Songs & Swords 1 (30 page)

“The man over there is a friend of mine and quite harmless,” she assured the newcomer. “Can you send a request through the Relay? I need some information from Evermeet, by morning if possible.”

“Anything for the elf who saved the life of my mate.”

Arilyn smiled her thanks. “I seek information about a moonblade. It belonged to an elf named Amnestria, who left Evermeet about forty years ago. I’m afraid that’s all I have.”

“It should be enough. I’ll see to this immediately and send word in the morning. Since I cannot transform to human shape again so soon, please expect Black Pearl.”

“Seeing her again will be a pleasure. Thank you, Gestar.” The adventurers embraced unselfconsciously, and the selkie man turned and dove into the sea.

Danilo could contain himself no longer. “That was a selkie!”

Arilyn turned to face him. “An old friend. We’ll wait here until morning for the information. If you’re cold, make a fire.”

The nobleman nodded his agreement. Although he was full to the brim with questions, the night was chill. He began to collect driftwood, aware that Arilyn watched him with an amused smile.

“Go ahead and ask,” she said. “I can see the toll your silence is taking upon you.”

Danilo cast her a grin. “What is the Relay? And how can it send a message to Evermeet and back in the span of a single night? Is it magic?”

“No, it’s not magic. The Relay is a network of selkies, sea elves, and sentient sea creatures that look very much like small whales. All can move at impressive speeds, and sound itself travels three times as fast in water as it does in air. Underwater messages travel swiftly.”

“But to Evermeet and back?”

“It may be that my inquiry need not go so far. Those who serve in the Relay are bound to secrecy concerning specific messages, but as you can imagine there is a wealth of accumulated information in its members.”

“Oh. Who is this Black Pearl?”

“A sea half-elf.”

“That’s possible? I doubt I could hold my breath long enough to accomplish such a feat,” Danilo marveled.

Arilyn let out a burst of surprised laughter. “Sea elves do not always stay under water.”

“Interesting name, Black Pearl.”

“You’ll understand when you see her. Black Pearl’s human mother came from a land far to the southeast. Her ship sank off the coast of Calimport and she was rescued by sea elves. There are few half sea-elves, and Black Pearl spends much time with the selkies.”

“I imagine selkies could understand her dual nature better than most other creatures,” Danilo mused.

His perceptive remarks startled Arilyn, who had herself always felt uniquely comfortable with selkies. “That’s true,” she said, and immediately changed the subject. “Any other questions?”

“Yes. You said that the sword belonged to an elf named Amnestria. Who’s that?”

Arilyn paused for a long moment. “My mother,” she said, her voice without expression.

“Didn’t Elaith speak of someone called Z’beryl? I thought that was your mother’s name.”

“So did I.”

“Oh.”

Silence hung between them. “Listen, why don’t you get some sleep?” Arilyn asked after a time.

Her question caught Danilo in the middle of a yawn. “Good idea.” The shuttered expression in Arilyn’s eyes, combined with his own weariness, convinced him of her suggestion’s merits.

Danilo awoke when the sky was still silver with the promise of sunrise, to find Arilyn deep in conversation with Black Pearl. At first glance Danilo knew that it could be no other. The sea half-elf’s far-eastern heritage showed in the slope of her dark eyes and in the hair that fell to her hips like a length of wet black satin. Her pointed ears were somewhat more rounded than Arilyn’s. Although her hands and feet were webbed, her white skin was very different from the mottled green or blue color that distinguished most sea elves. In the early morning light her naked body shone with the pure translucent sheen of a rare pearl.

“After King Zaor’s death,” said Black Pearl, “Queen Amlaruil became sole ruler of Evermeet. Their daughter Amnestria was sent into secret exile because of some private disgrace.”

“That would be me, I suppose,” Arilyn said in a low voice. In a louder tone she asked, “Exactly when did Zaor die?”

“At the end of the four hundred thirty-second year of his reign. The event made an great impact in the sea elf community, and I remember it well, young though I was. It was springtime, during the High Tide Festival.” The sea half-elf bit her lip and calculated. “That would be the year 1321, as humans reckon time in the Dalelands. I remember the day, as well; the second day of Ches.”

“Was the murderer caught?”

“No. Amnestria’s human lover shot and wounded the assassin, who nevertheless managed to disappear without a trace.”

“Of what race was the assassin?”

The sea half-elf dropped her eyes as if ashamed. “He was elven,” she admitted.

“Yes, but what race?” Arilyn persisted.

“Oh. A gold elf. Is that important?”

“It might be,” Arilyn murmured in a distracted tone. She looked up suddenly. “What did you learn about the moonblade?”

“Little is known of its powers, I’m afraid. It seems that Amnestria inherited the sword shortly before her exile, from a great-aunt whose family spent most of their time away from Evermeet. You would do better to seek the sword’s history from sages here on the mainland.” The exotic half-elf paused, then added, “I’m sorry I could not bring you the answers you needed.”

“You’ve answered many questions.” Arilyn extended her hand, palm up. “Thank you for your help, Black Pearl.” The other half-elf smiled and covered the offered palm with her own webbed hand, then she disappeared into the sea with a faint splash.

Arilyn stood looking absently out to sea. When she turned, she seemed faintly startled to see that Danilo was awake. “I suppose you heard.”

“Yes.”

“We might as well get your questions out of the way now.”

“You’re catching on,” the nobleman said approvingly. He rose and stretched. “First and foremost, don’t any of the sea people wear clothing?”

Arilyn raised her eyebrows. “From all that was said, you gained that single insight?”

“Black Pearl was rather hard to overlook, Princess Arilyn,” Danilo said with a grin. “By the way, Your Highness, should I genuflect before you or will a simple bow suffice?”

“The royal elves were Amnestria’s family, not mine,” she said curtly. “I don’t claim to be a princess.” The half-elf abruptly turned away. “Please see to your breakfast and wardrobe as quickly as possible. We return to Waterdeep this morning.”

“Oh, splendid.” Immediately Danilo began removing garments from his magic sack and considering the merits of each. “Are we going anywhere in particular?”

“Yes.”

Danilo looked up from the silken pile with a pained expression and a patient sigh. “Perhaps you could be a trifle more specific? I do so hate to be inappropriately dressed.”

“Blackstaff Tower.” At her words, Danilo’s face took on an odd expression. Arilyn had a vision of him pulling a wizard’s robe out of his bag. With a touch of grim humor, she added, “Dress like a mage and you won’t live to cast your next spell.”

Hastily Danilo snatched up a shirt of pale yellow silk from the pile of discarded garments. “This will do splendidly, really.” Within minutes he was ready to go. Sunrise colors stained the sky as they made their way back down the rocky coast.

“Why Blackstaff Tower?” Danilo asked, trotting easily beside Arilyn’s long-legged stride as they headed back to their campsite.

“I need to find out what there is to know about this sword. I suppose a learned mage is the best place to start.”

“Yes, but there are other mages in Waterdeep, ones with fewer demands on their time.”

“I don’t know any of them. I do know Khelben.”

“Really, now. Khelben Arunsun? He can be most unpleasant,” Danilo said.

“Yes, I know,” Arilyn agreed, “but if I must entrust my sword to a spellcaster, I suppose it might as well be him. At least he knows which end of a weapon is which.”

Danilo smirked. “I wonder how the great wizard would like to hear himself named a ‘spellcaster.’” He smiled and held out his hand. “Listen! I’ve got a marvelous idea. There’s no need for both of us to go to Blackstaff Tower. I’ll go alone.”

Arilyn stopped so quickly that Danilo, trying to follow suit, tripped on a rock. She studied him as he bent and rubbed his bruised shin. “Why should you do that?” she asked.

“Chivalry,” he stated, still attending to his injury. “After all you’ve been through of late, I thought I might spare you an encounter with the old coot.”

“Your concern is touching.”

“Of course it is,” Danilo said, beaming. He straightened and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You wait in town. Take a rest and get your hair done for the festival. Whatever. I’ll be in and out of Blackstaff Tower before you know it.”

Arilyn threw off his hand, exasperated. “Khelben Arunsun knows me. What makes you think he’d see you?” Danilo paused a bit too long. “Well?” she demanded.

“He’s my uncle. My mother’s brother, to be precise. Believe me, Mother would have Uncle Blackstaff the archmage drawn, dressed, and roasted if he slighted her baby boy. Formidable woman.” Danilo smiled winningly at Arilyn. “Come to think of it, I believe you’d like my mother.”

Sixteen

The half-elf’s eyes flamed with anger at Danilo’s casual revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Khelben’s nephew?”

He shrugged. “It didn’t occur to me. You never told me you were related to elven royalty, either,” he pointed out. “Family trees never came up in conversation.”

With a hiss of exasperation, Arilyn lapsed into silence. They climbed the rocky incline to their camp and found their horses calmly cropping grass. Without a word the half-elf set about saddling her horse. Danilo did likewise and once they mounted he reached toward her. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to teleport us to Blackstaff Tower. It’ll save time.

“No!”

It was Danilo’s turn to be exasperated. “By the gods, woman, be reasonable for once.” He leaned over and snatched her hand.

Immediately they were surrounded by white, milky light. There was no sensation of movement, no sense of anything solid around or beneath them. It seemed to Arilyn that they were suspended in nothingness, a state of being that was outside of her understanding or control. Before the half-elf had time to feel the panic and sickness she expected, the light faded and the dark granite walls of Blackstaff lower came into focus before them.

“There now, was that so bad?” Danilo asked.

“No, it wasn’t,” Arilyn said with a touch of surprise. “That’s odd. Dimensional travel has always made me very ill, ever since I first tried it with Kymil… .” Her voice drifted off.

Danilo did not seem to notice her distraction. He knocked on the gate and was promptly answered by the disembodied voice of a servant. “Arilyn Moonblade to see the Blackstaff,” Danilo announced.

Within moments the gate opened and Khelben Arunsun himself came to greet them. “Come in, Arilyn. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” The mage’s gaze fell on her companion. “Oh, it’s you, Danilo.”

“Hello, Uncle Khel,” Danilo replied. “Arilyn needed a spellcaster, so I brought her here.”

Khelben Arunsun’s brow knit as he turned to Arilyn. “And you listened to my frivolous nephew? I hope this is important.”

“It could be.” Arilyn unbuckled her swordbelt and handed the sheathed moonblade to Khelben. “I give you my permission to touch it,” she said, her voice taking on a hint of ritual. “Just make sure you don’t try to take it from the scabbard.”

The archmage accepted the ancient sword and examined it with interest. “Fascinating weapon. What’s all this about?”

“I need to learn everything I can about this sword and its history. Can you help me?”

“I’m no sage, but a legend lore spell might yield some answers,” Khelben said, tucking the moonblade under his arm. “Please follow me.”

The archmage led them into the courtyard. When they reached the tower he motioned for them to follow and disappeared into the wall. When Arilyn hesitated, Danilo unceremoniously pushed her through the hidden door. She glared over her shoulder at him. “I have done this before, you know.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Hmmph.” The half-elf squared her shoulders and stalked into the reception area of Blackstaff Tower.

“Come upstairs,” Khelben said. “We’ll have a better look at your sword up in my spellcasting chamber.”

Arilyn and Danilo followed the archmage up the steep spiral stairway that wound up the center of the tower. When they came to the third and top floor, they stepped into a large, book-lined study. Khelben ushered them through it and opened an oaken door into another, smaller room. A table stood under the chamber’s only window, and in the center of the room a scrying crystal rested on a marble pedestal. There was nothing else in the chamber that could distract the wizard from the process of casting spells.

“Wait here,” Khelben said. He put the moonblade on the table and disappeared through a door.

“Spell components,” Danilo explained to Arilyn. “He keeps his magical supplies in the next room Very organized, our archmage.”

Khelben reappeared carrying several small items. “Stay over on the far side of the chamber,” he instructed his visitors, “and for the love of Mystra, Danilo, try to hold your tongue. This spell requires a degree of concentration.”

The archmage moved to the table where the moonblade lay and arranged the spell components. Arilyn caught a glimpse of a small white vial that bore Khelben’s sigil.

She bit her lip, suddenly chagrined by the boldness of her request. She’d heard that some spells required the sacrifice of an item of value. For the first time it seemed odd to her that an archmage of Khelben’s stature would cast such a spell for a mere acquaintance, at such cost to himself.

The wizard moved through the words and gestures of the incantation, his hands sure and his voice filled with the resonance of power. At length Khelben unstoppered a second vial, and the dark aroma of incense filled the chamber. The archmage tipped the bottle and spilled its contents over the moonblade. Instantly the spell components disappeared in a flash of light.