Элейн Каннингем - Elfsong

“It must have gained something in the translation,” Dan murmured.

Evindal smiled. “Such modesty in a bard is refreshing.” He rose from the table. “I’m afraid my duties call me back to the temple, but please stay as long as you will. Call on me any time, for the People owe you a great debt.”

Danilo lifted his goblet “At the price of elverquisst, we should be even before the night is over.”

The priest chuckled as he walked out of the tavern. Danilo watched him go, a puzzled frown on his face.

“What are you doing here, besides marinating in elven spirits?”

Danilo jumped. He looked up into the stern face of Khelben Arunsun. As usual, the archmage was clad in simple, dark clothing, and wrapped in a fur-lined coat against the sea breezes that chilled Waterdeep’s nights, even now, in the midst of summer. Khelben’s silver-streaked black hair was uncharacteristically rumpled, and his bearded visage looked a shade grimmer than usual. Danilo was one of the few persons in Waterdeep not cowed by the powerful wizard, and he gestured cheerfully with his full goblet

“Sit down, Uncle. I’d ask you to join me in a glass—”

“But you doubt that we’d both fit.” The archmage completed the jest in a sour tone. “Save the nonsense, Dan. We’ve more important matters to discuss.”

“Indeed.” The Harper spoke softly and met Khelben’s glare with a measured gaze of his own. “Let’s start with the most important matter. Where is Arilyn?”

The archmage was silent for a moment, then he nodded toward the decanter of elverquisst. “A mage of your potential has no business drinking anything so powerful. Magic demands keen wits and a clear mind. Or have you forgotten what happened last time you imbibed too freely? I hear that the butler at the Stalwarts’ Club still resembles something from the Abyss.”

Danilo’s eyes narrowed. “I am in full possession of my senses—such as they are—and I was that evening in Cormyr, also. I regret changing the butler’s appearance so drastically, but might I remind you that the episode occurred during the Time of Troubles? Mine was not the only spell to go awry in those days!”

“Defending your art.” Khelben leaned back in his seat and nodded approvingly. “That’s a good sign. May I infer that you’re taking your magical studies more seriously, or would that be hoping for too much?”

The young mage’s jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his thick blond hair. “While in Tethyr, I memorized the spells in the book you lent me, as well as several more from a tome of southern magic I purchased there. Beyond my Harper duties, I have acquired over twenty new spells and researched several of my own. Just because I study in secret does not mean I lack purpose,” he concluded in a terse, quiet voice. “Likewise, although I play the fool, I am not so easily distracted as you seem to think. I left my partner alone and in danger, and I demand to know where she is and how she fares.”

“Fair enough,” Khelben conceded, a touch of apology in his voice. “Arilyn is safe, and on her way to her new task.”

“Where is she? And why must she go alone?”

“The task requires someone who can pass as an elf. Where she’s going, you would be too conspicuous. I can tell you no more.”

Danilo received this news in silence. Although he was relieved to learn that Arilyn was safe, he feared that this mysterious assignment would take her far beyond his reach. Always more elven than human, Arilyn would be less likely to consider a human lover when she returned from her time among the elves.

“And I’m human,” Danilo concluded aloud.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” his uncle said tartly. “Fortunately the dragon in question doesn’t know you as I do.”

Suddenly Khelben had Danilo’s full attention. “Dragon, you say?”

Again the archmage paused, and he studied the wall opposite him. “You were trained in music, if I’m not mistaken. Well trained.”

“Many years ago,” Dan said absently, puzzled by the abrupt turn the discussion had taken. “Why?”

“The Harpers require the services of a bard. At present, not one seems to be available.”

“I don’t like where this is leading. I’m supposed to pass myself off as a bard, is that it? On the strength of what?”

Khelben nodded to the elven singer. “That, for example.”

Danilo marshaled his befuddled senses and focused on the ballad. It had a lovely, vaguely familiar melody. He knew just enough Elvish to make out something about Khelben’s lady, the mage Laeral, and the healing power of love.

“That’s very nice. Whose is it?”

The archmage looked at him keenly. “You’re sure you don’t recognize it?” When Danilo shook his head, Khelben gave a grim smile. “Well, that settles that question. The ballad is yours. Very popular tune these days, I’m sorry to say.”

“But—”

“Yes, I know. You didn’t write it that way. There’s a great deal of that going around.”

Danilo listened to the singer for a few moments. “By Oghma, I’m not bad!”

Khelben’s face darkened at the young man’s flippant oath to the patron of letters. “This is serious, boy! Your songs are not the only ones that have been changed.”

The Harper put a solicitous hand on Khelben’s arm. “You may not have noticed this, Uncle, but there’s usually ample room for improvement. Whatever do you wish me to do: change them back?”

“Precisely,” the archmage said, tossing some coins onto the table and rising to his feet “You start tomorrow at sunrise, and there’s much to do. You’ll need travel supplies, an instrument or two—what is it you play, zither?”

“Lute,” Danilo replied absently. He had little choice but to follow his uncle out of the tavern. It finally occurred to him what Yaereene had asked him to do; it was common practice for a bard to play at any tavern or inn he visited. On the way out Danilo bowed to the proprietress, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness as he indicated the glowering archmage. Yaereene forgave him with a gracious nod, and Danilo hurried to match Khelben’s long stride.

“The first order of business is meeting your partner,” Khelben paused and raised one salt-and-pepper brow, “and your apprentice.”

“I have an apprentice?” he said in a dazed tone.

“So she thinks, and I see no merit in convincing her otherwise. You would do well to have a skilled fighter at your side. Whatever her limitations as a bard might be, her credentials as a warrior are most impressive.”

Danilo thrust his fingers into his hair and rubbed his scalp briskly, on the dim chance that he might be able to shake loose the mental cobwebs that kept him from understanding what was apparently crystalline to the archmage. “For argument’s sake, let’s say I’m a bard, apprentice, zither, and all. Who am I supposed to entertain?”

“Grimnoshtadrano,” Khelben replied as he strode toward Blackstaff Tower.

“But isn’t he—”

“A green dragon? Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Danilo realized that he was gaping like a beached carp. He closed his mouth and gave himself a brisk shake. “You mentioned something about a dragon earlier, but I’d assumed you were jesting.” He cast a sidelong glance at his uncle’s severe expression, then he sighed heavily. “I suppose I should have known better.”

“This mission requires someone with a knowledge of both magic and music,” Khelben continued. “First thing tomorrow morning, you will set out for the High Forest, challenge the dragon, convince him you’re the bard he’s been waiting for, and get from him by whatever means necessary a scroll that is now in his possession.”

The Harper flashed a rueful smile at the archmage. “If you say so, Uncle Khelben. Now tell me, what would you like me to do after breakfast?”