The Sorcerer

CHAPTER THREE

12 Flamerule, the Year of Wild Magic

Mount Untriwin's east wall stood a mile away, a looming face of rock and ice hidden behind a curtain of milk-white steam, its form discernible only as a dim gray wedge against a bright gray sky. A blurry fleck of darkness could be seen in front of the mountain, flying a lazy oval about a third of the way up. When the speck reached the end of its loop and banked around to go in the other direction, it assumed a vaguely cross like shape with a long, thin body and swept-back wings. Even without the clear-seeing spell she had cast, Arr would have recognized the figure as one of the Shadovar's worm-bat mounts, a veserab.

So we are seen, Tuuh whistled beside her. They were standing on the High Ice, staring at the sentry across the sunken vastness of a Shadovar shadow blanket We will not have long to wait.

Arr turned to Tuuh. With a receding hairline, black beard, and dark eyes, he was an exact double of the famous-and very troublesome-Khelben Arunsun.

"Use your mouth and speak Common," Arr instructed. "The scout may have ears as well as eyes."

If that is so, you are more likely to betray us with your words, Tuuh replied, continuing to speak in Winds, using magic to stir the icy air into the whistling language of the phaerimm. Even if he is listening, humans have trouble recognizing our voices.

"The Shadovar are not human."

They are close enough.

"Perhaps, but this is my plan-one endorsed by the entire WarGather. If it fails, do you really wish to give them an excuse to blame you?"

The WarGather does not frighten me. Despite the boast, Tuuh said in Common, "And, if something does go wrong, you are the only one they will blame. I'll see to that."

Tuuh turned, and remembering to use his legs as would a human, he stormed off across the ice. Though she was burning inside to demand a gift of contrition-or at least remind him that the WarGather had placed her in charge-Arr had no choice but to let him go. This was the great shortcoming of the phaerimm, their inability to work toward a common cause.

They all knew it, of course-were they not all geniuses, the wisest race ever to inhabit Toril? — but that did not mean they could overcome their one weakness. Beings of such intelligence were too impatient with the folly of others and too easily bored by any company but their own. Sooner or later, every phaerimm compact was doomed to disintegrate in a tempest of clashing winds and bitter magic. That was the nature of her people, and it was only their fear and hatred of the Shadovar that had kept them working together at all through the dark months of their imprisonment in the Shaeradim.

But if Arr's plan worked, if she could trick the Shadovar and the other two-leg realms into making war on each other, then maybe-just maybe-she could keep her people united long enough to capture Evereska. Once they had claimed its magic-nourishing mythal for their own and the phaerimm saw what they could accomplish together, who knew how long their patience might be extended? Perhaps Arr could find even greater goals to unite them. If she planned carefully and always kept the meat dangled before the teeth of her fellows, it would not surprise her to see them take their natural place as the masters of the world-and she would be the master of masters. Why not? Was she not the wisest and most cunning of the phaerimm?

"Arr!" This from Beze, who had assumed the silver-haired form of Khelben Arunsun's paramour, Laeral Silverhand- right down to the tiny limb sprouting from the stump of the arm Laeral had lost in the Shaeradim. "Your feet!"

Arr looked down to find her feet dangling beneath her, the toes not quite touching the glacier. She felt something warm rush to the cheeks of her human face, then lowered herself through a conscious act of will and started to walk to her place in line.

"Watch your tone, sister," Arr said. Save that she stood a little taller than Beze and wore her silver hair somewhat longer, her appearance was much the same. She and Beze had assumed the shape of the Silverhand sisters, Storm and Laeral. "Remember who is leading this mission."

"How could I forget?" Beze nodded in both directions along the steep bank that led down to the shadow blanket and said, "Your humble followers await"

Arr glared just long enough to make it clear that the sarcasm would not be forgotten, then glanced in both directions Beze had indicated. The shadow blanket had melted a deep basin into the ice, and the rest of their number were carefully spacing themselves along its rim, each about a thousand feet apart

Like Tuuh, Beze, and Arr herself, the last two phaerimm had assumed the likenesses of Mystra's Chosen: Alustriel Silverhand and Dove Falconhand. Arr would have liked to have a larger force, but given that Sylune was a ghost who never left Shadowdale, Qilue Veladorn seldom involved herself in the affairs of humans, and Elminster was still missing with the Simbul, five was largest number of Chosen they could reasonably impersonate.

Arr waited until Beze and Ryry signaled that everyone was in position-the fog was too thick for her to see Tuuh and Xayn at the far ends-then raised her arms and began to chant The others joined in at once, gesturing and intoning odd-sounding syllables in a carefully choreographed imitation of a human casting. The process was, of course, absurdly slow and primitive-at least compared to how the phaerimm cast magic-but it seemed a necessary step for humans. Arr and her fellows wasted most of the next minute on this nonsense, then lowered their arms and simply thought the spell.

A long, crescent-shaped blade of magic light appeared before them, the lower lip teetering on the rim of the steep slope at their feet. Arr glanced through the steam bank and saw the dark fleck of the sentry still holding his position in front of Mount Untriwin. She raised her arm and pointed forward, and as one the five "Chosen" pushed their creation over the bank.

The blanket peeler slid fifty feet to the bottom of the basin, where its lower lip slipped under the shadow blanket's edge and quietly rolled it one yard back.

That was all the sentry needed to see. When Arr next looked, the veserab was vanishing southward through the steam. She allowed herself a moment to savor the genius of her plan, then waved to the others and slid down the icy bank to the shadow blanket.

At the bottom of the pit, they found themselves standing in six inches of icy water. The discomfort was not something phaerimm were accustomed to, but it was a simple matter to fix with a little resistance magic. They soon started to push, and the magic peeler worked just as Arr had planned, cutting the blanket free of the ice and rolling it back on itself. The more material there was, the tighter the tool rolled it

The only problem came when they encountered stones hidden beneath the ice, a surprisingly frequent occurrence since rocks often fell from the mountain, then were carried forward by the glacier and slowly buried by more snow. Still, the phaerimm quickly learned to push these obstacles out of the way with simple telekinesis magic. Two hours later, they had made so much progress that Mount Untriwin blocked their entire view of the western horizon, and they could hear the faint ringing that gave the peak its name-in the native tongue, untriwin meant "singing rock."

Arr was beginning to fear that her plan had failed when a jagged line of shadows began to appear in the steam ahead. She continued forward until the line resolved itself into a rank of Shadovar warriors, all fully armored and carrying their deadly black swords. Arr's companions were instantly at her back, arriving by teleport magic even as the enemy began to advance.

Instead of breaking into a charge as Arr had anticipated, the Shadovar line stopped thirty paces from the rolled shadow blanket. A huge warrior with braided hair tails and bright coppery eyes stepped forward and raised his dark blade in salute. He was the one they called Escanor.

"With the phaerimm loose in the world again, I should think the Chosen of Mystra would have better things to do than rob Shade Enclave of its water."

"If Shade kept its water to itself, we would," Arr replied.

She had not expected the Shadovar to be more interested in talking than fighting, but she had to respond in kind. While phaerimm never hesitated to use force, she and her fellows had to behave as the Chosen would, and the Chosen were reluctant to start a fight until they knew they had no other choice.

"Your shadow blankets are flooding half of Faer?n," she continued, "and robbing the rest of rain. Since you refuse to remove them, we will do it for you."

Escanor took one step forward and said, "Faer?n's suffering is the price for restoring Shade to its birthright."

Then let Shade pay the price," Arr said, trying to put herself in Storm's place. "Your birthright is no concern of Faer?n's."

"It is. You abandoned us to the Plane of Shadow for seventeen centuries. You cannot imagine how we suffered."

"We abandoned no one." Arr wondered if she had conversed enough to seem like one of the Chosen, then decided probably not They talked a lot "Leaving was your city's choice."

"Choice?" Escanor scoffed. "It was leave or die."

"Then it is a pity Shade did not choose the latter," she said. The Shadovar's talkativeness puzzled Arr. Surely, he knew as well as Arr did that there was going to be a fight-so why was he stalling? "It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."

"Rude, as well as ungrateful." Escanor looked from Arr to Ryry and said, "You are known to be the reasonable sister, Lady Alustriel. Surely, you can see that opposing us will only lead to more Tilvertons. Wouldn't your energies be better spent helping Faer?n's people adjust to the new climate than adding to their troubles by starting a war you cannot hope to win?"

"No one ever wins a war, Prince Escanor," Ryry said, sounding like Alustriel in voice as well as meaning. "They only lose less than the enemy. Given what Shade lost at Tilverton, I should think you would understand that."

"Our city is still here."

"And so are a hundred of ours," Arr countered. "Who do you think can stand to lose more?"

Escanor's eyes flashed orange.

"The question is not how many cities you can lose, Lady Storm." His voice was sharp and seething, yet he seemed as content as before to stand there talking instead of fighting. "The question is how many you can destroy. We have already proven what we can do."

"And if you lose an army with each city, we will not have to destroy your city at all," Arr said. As she spoke, Arr was running her gaze down the Shadovar line, searching for the other princes. "By the third or fourth city, it will be ours for the claiming."

"We have learned from our mistake." Escanor glanced at the shadow blanket rolled up between them and said, "You, apparently, have not. You will remove your tool and allow us to replace the shadow blanket I will ask this only once."

Arr completed her search of the Shadovar line and finding no more princes placed a hand on her hip in the stubborn way Storm often did.

"And if we refuse?"

"The battle will not be fought here," Escanor said. "It will be Faer?n's cities that pay-"

"Liar."

Nothing would have made Arr happier than to think the prince was telling the truth, but the Shadovar were too cunning to announce their plan in advance. She raised her arm and with a thought unleashed the spell she had spent most of her imprisonment in the Shaeradim developing. A steady stream of silver-white flame boiled out of her fingertips toward the prince. His spell-guard flashed black as the fire struck. The shadow magic in this defense triggered a secondary spell, sending an antimagic beam shooting from the head of the flame stream.

A gapping hole appeared in Escanor's spell-guard, allowing the white stream behind to pour through. The effect was a reasonable imitation of the silver fire of the Chosen, and Escanor fell, screaming and engulfed in flames.

Arr started to whistle a command to her fellows, then caught herself and yelled, "Watch our backs! The other princes-"

She was interrupted by the hissing crash of a dark bolt striking home behind her. Beze went tumbling over the rolled shadow blanket and landed a dozen yards away, wisps of shadow rising from a gaping hole in her chest. She began to thrash about and whistle in pain, then rose into the air, too weak and dazed to hold herself on the ground.

"Laeral, no!" Arr yelled. "Get down and be-"

The word "quiet" was lost to a horrific roar as battle magic-both phaerimm and Shadovar-started to crack and sizzle behind her. Escanor's company answered with a thunderous war cry, then lifted their arms and began to gesture. Arr countered by raising a wall of scintillating color in front of them-Shadovar hated prismatic magic- then she realized she had forgotten herself and neglected to gesture and incant. She covered by waving her arm and booming out a dozen syllables of mystic nonsense, then toppled the wall over on the enemy.

A cacophony of crackling magic and anguished screaming filled the basin for a single instant then came echoing back off Untriwin's stony face and faded to an low murmur. It was a sound Arr loved well, the sound of astonished survivors struggling to gather their wits and reorganize.

She glanced back to find her companions standing behind their spell-guards hurling magic at half a dozen retreating princes. The bars of a half-completed shadow cage lay at their feet, slowly melting into the slushy water as its unbound energies dispersed.

The sound of sharp commands drew Arr's attention forward again, where the Shadovar survivors had already regrouped. Half a dozen were gathered around their burning prince, attempting to smother Arr's silver flames with their own bodies. The rest, perhaps two dozen in all, were following a tall warrior forward, their swords drawn and their gem-colored eyes glowing with rage.

This time remembering to cast the spell as a human would, Arr called up a wall of flame.

By the time she finished the necessary gesturing and chanting, the Shadovar were almost even with Beze's writhing form. Arr would not normally have hesitated to engulf one of her own in the conflagration, but Beze's defenses had obviously been overpowered by the enemy attack. If the flames killed her, she would revert to true form and reveal the truth about who the Shadovar were fighting.

Arr raised the wall behind the charging warriors, then reached behind her and grabbed Tuuh by the collar.

"Come along, Khelben," she said.

She clambered across the rolled shadow blanket, Tuuh half-stumbling and half-floating over it as she pulled him along. When he turned and saw two dozen angry Shadovar only ten paces away, he forget himself and raised a barrier of thrashing blades without remembering to gesture.

"Allak thur doog." Arr called, improvising.

The incantation was lost to the wet thud of the barrier's blades chopping through Shadovar armor.

Pulling Tuuh after her, Arr started around the far end, shouting, "Remember yourself, Khelben."

"A split second of warning might help next time," Tuuh answered. "Where are we going."

'To help Bez-er, Laeral."

"To help her?" Tuuh stopped. "What for?"

"Because she's supposed to be your mate!" Arr hissed. "And because my plan will be ruined if she dies and they see her revert"

They reached the end of the barrier. Arr peered around the corner to find that Beze had fallen unconscious and now lay floating in the air, her arms stretched over her head and her legs twined together in a distinctly tail-like braid. The eight Shadovar-all that had escaped Tuuh's spell-remained trapped between the blade barrier and Arr’s wall of fire.

The tall Shadovar saw her looking and raised his hand to cast a spell. Arr pulled back in time to avoid the dark bolt that came streaking past the end of the barrier, then dropped to a knee and sent a fork of lightning crackling back in her attacker's direction. It caught him in the chest and knocked him off his feet, then dissipated harmlessly against his spell-guard. The warrior pointed at Beze and sent his followers rushing in her direction.

A stream of silver-white flame streaked over Arr's head, blasting through the Shadovar's spell-guard and engulfing him in flame. The sight made Arr wince inside. The spell was one of her finest, and though she had willingly shared it for the sake of her plan, it still pained her to see another phaerimm using it.

Arr glanced up and behind her at Tuuh's bearded face and said, "I hope that*s the first time you've used my spell here." Because the Chosen could unleash the real silver fire just once every hour, she had instructed her companions to use her spell only one time. "My plan won't work if they realize-"

"It is the first time these Shadovar have seen me use it" Tuuh said. "That is all that counts."

He raised a hand and uttering a single syllable, wagged his fingers. Beze rose above the heads of the Shadovar and started to float in their direction. Several warriors cocked their arms to hurl their swords. Throwing up her hands and crying out something that might have sounded vaguely spell-like, Arr brought a swarm of fiery stars crashing into existence and sent it sweeping across the shadow blanket.

It roared into the Shadovar before they could turn their heads to see what was making the sound. Those who had no spell-guards simply vanished in an eruption of smoke and flame. The others were hurled across the shadow blanket, back through the wall of fire Arr had raised earlier. Judging by the screams and the greasy smoke rising from the other side, it seemed unlikely their protection magic had withstood the trip.

"A little quick for a human, don't you think?" Tuuh brought Beze to their side. "But you saved Beze."

"Well, send her somewhere," Arr ordered, "before she dies and ruins my plan."

Behind them Ryry, speaking in Winds, said, The fate of your plan has already been decided. The Shadovar are gone.

Arr turned to find Ryry and Yao standing behind the rolled blanket, staring out across the empty melt basin. In the frigid cold of the High Ice, the cloud of rising steam had already turned to ice and dropped back to the ground, and the slushy water through which they had been wading just a few minutes earlier had frozen into a jagged blue plain. The only sign of the Shadovar princes who had attempted to surprise them from the rear where the soot-smeared craters where they had been hurled into the basin walls by phaerimm spells.

"I am a genius," Arr said. "When we work together, none can challenge us!"

"That will be a great comfort to Beze's ghost," Tuuh said.

Arr looked back and found Beze reverted to true form. She was sinking to the ground, her tail and four arms hanging limp, her mouth open and pouring blood.

'Tuuh, did I not tell you to send her somewhere?" Arr asked. "There still may be spies."

Tuuh touched Beze, and a small tear opened in the air and sucked the corpse out of sight. Judging by the drone of insects and the stench of offal that lingered behind, Arr guessed that he had sent the body to the second or third of the Nine Hells.

Once the portal closed, Arr dismissed the magic walls she had created and was pleased to see the shadow blanket littered with dead Shadovar. There was no sign of Escanor, or of those who had used their own bodies to put out the flames engulfing him.

"I see no wounded," Ryry sounded disappointed. "Where are the wounded?"

"hi Shade, by now," Arr said. "The Shadovar took them, I'm sure."

"Truly?" Ryry looked at Arr as though she had hidden the wounded and was keeping them all for herself. "Why?"

Tuuh shrugged and said, "What does it matter? Many two-legs do it, when they can."

Ryry studied him doubtfully, then finally seemed to accept what she was seeing.

"If you say so." She turned back to Arr and asked, "What now?"

"Finish the job," Arr said as she returned to the blanket roll and clambered over it That is what the Chosen would do."