'Thank ye. So, Thauvas, ye came all the way to damp Marsem-ber-not the nearest port of call from Thayan shores-merely to enjoy a revel with some strangers in a cellar, is that it?'
'Y-y-yes-uh-ah-I mean no!'
'Thy mind wavers and is troubled; bad traits for one who seeks to master wizardry.' Elminster shook his head. 'The day of thy becoming any sort of zulkir seems distant indeed. Ye came to join or at least scout this Rightful Conspiracy, did ye not? Or is Thay already behind it, and ye were but carrying out an assigned mission?'
Zlorn's face rippled and contorted as he fought against the horribly strong prying that stabbed into his memories and thoughts like a cook jabbing a skewer into a quace-fruit. Unwillingly, his lips moved at the bidding of a second inexorable magic to blurt out the truth. 'Y-y-yes.'
'Yes which, most eloquent Thauvas? Speak loudly, for all to hear!'
Narnra froze at the old wizard's words-then spun around to look at Caladnei. The Mage Royal's face was as wryly astonished as her own.
'Yes,' the Red Wizard gasped hastily, 'I was assigned this task . . . many rising Red Wizards involved … a test for each of us … Sembians sponsoring this conspiracy . .. begun by exiled malcontents of Cormyr, of course … we of Thay are keeping hidden, as much as possible, thus far . . .'
As Elminster's fiercely tightening will penetrated thought after memory after precious secret, peeling the Thayan's mind as some folk strip an onion, layer by layer, Thauvas Zlorn began to sob forth phrases more and more freely.
'And your jovial mention of using the Stalwart Adventurers?
This is part of the plot? Under way or a future effort?'
'I-I-I-'twas my own idea . . . Velmaerass very pleased . . . praised me . . .'
'I'm most warmed to hear that,' Elminster said in dry tones. 'He might even give ye a tharch or two, if ye're still alive by then.'
Thauvas was already weeping in fear, bright lines of tears streaming down his cheeks. His teeth now began to chatter, and the Old Mage sighed, waved a hand, and said scornfully, 'Sleep then-for now-and keep thy wits, such as they are. All this fainting and gabbling . . . when will these puppies learn that being a mage means facing the possible consequences beforehand, and weighing them, and acting mindful of their weight? Or is thinking before one goes merrily blasting off into red war left only to wise old fools, these days?'
He spun around suddenly, and an unseen, irresistable force took hold of Narnra's throat and wrists and plucked her off her feet, torch and all, before she could so much as gasp.
'And ye, little Masked One? How much did ye think, before ye plunged through that gate on my heels, hmm? Or are ye so young that adventure dazzles ye into plunging after it?'
Narna Shalace found herself hanging in the throbbing air, faint white mists of sheer power roiling around her, looking down at the wryly smiling, bearded face of the old wizard.
She gasped for breath, finding herself suddenly sweating all over. Was that creeping numbness around her neck and ears his magic sliding into her mind? Was she going to end up sobbing and helpless, teeth chattering, tongue not her own? Would he slay her or leave her a half-wit, ruined by his magic?'
'I-I-I-'
'Are far too upset, Lady of the Night. I've no particular desire to work spell-murder right in front of the Mage Royal of Cormyr, who would then feel a duty to do something that could only get her hurt. All I want is something that should please us all: a sharing of the truth.'
Blue-gray eyes gleamed up at hers. 'The truth, lass, is a precious thing. Sharp, yes, all too rare in daily use, aye . . . and therefore all too precious. Are ye willing to deal in it?'
Narnra swallowed helplessly, stared down at him, and struggled to reply.
The Old Mage gazed back up at her and asked softly, 'Or is it death ye'd prefer?'
Four
Nothing wounds so deeply as unwanted, unblunted truth.
'That's not much of a choice to hand me-or anyone-is it?' Narnra snapped bitterly, anger rising in her to roll back the fear … a little. 'Do as I say, or I'll blast you to ashes or leave you forever drooling. How can you trust any 'truth' handed you under such menace?'
The old wizard shrugged. ' 'Tis the same cruel choice most folk of power in this world hand to everyone else. Ye seem a bit too old, lass-especially considering the nature of thy nightly trade-to yet believe Faerun is a fair place. If ye truly do, ye're already a drooling idiot, whether ye admit it or not. I simply make choices blunter and clearer than many when I'm not in the mood for wasting overmuch time on tongue-fencing or frivolity. I'm not in the mood right now. I like Cormyr and have seen so many of these idiot rebellions in the making: the 'making' always seems to involve the deaths of many good and even some innocent folk. As to how I can trust thy truths, my magic will tell me when ye lie and when ye speak true.'
'And that's supposed to make me willing and obedient?' Narnra snarled.
'Nay, but a hope to survive this night should. 'Prudence,' I believe 'tis still called. Ye came back down here seeking my gate and a way home out of all this, did ye not? I'm the only way through it ye know, am I not? I'll be a trifle more willing to be helpful to someone who tried to rob and slay me in a dead-end alley not so long ago if she now tries to deal with me in at least a civil manner, will I not?'
The Waterdhavian lass drew in a deep, defeated breath. Despairing yet still furious, she sighed, took another shuddering gulp of air, and growled, 'So ask your questions. I'll try to keep to the truth.'
'Prudent,' the wizard agreed calmly. 'If, that is, ye wish to keep me to truth-reading and not mind-forcing ye, as I started to do to Thauvas, there. He learned wisdom quickly.'
Narnra tossed her head. 'Ask,' she repeated quietly, hanging helpless in midair.
The mists around her glowed with sudden light, a flash of radiance that died away as abruptly as it had come.
Her captor turned his head quickly to look out into the darkness. 'Caladnei, please just watch and listen and pretend ye're not here for a bit, eh? Vangerdahast will be most annoyed with me if I destroy his replacement without good cause-and ye may as well know now that thy reckless testing of my shield-spells is doomed to fail.'
From the darkness came only silence, but after a long, motionless time the old bearded mage added quietly, 'Thank ye.'
He turned his head to look up at Narnra and asked, 'Thy full, proper name, lass, is-?'
Gods, his nose is an even sharper hawk-beak than mine. Narnra looked down into those bright blue eyes- more blue than gray now, as his magic surged around them-and said steadily, 'Narnra Shalace. My mother was Maerjanthra Shalace, a jeweler of Waterdeep. My father I never knew.'
Bushy brows arched. 'Maerjanthra, eh? I knew a Maerjanthra Shalace of Waterdeep, years back-a sorceress for hire, not a jeweler.' He regarded his floating captive thoughtfully. ' 'Tis not a common name. Describe her, as she is today.'
Narnra let him see her fury as she spat, 'A few bones, some dust, and probably a tangle of what's left of her hair-in a bonepit outside the walls of Waterdeep. She's dead, wizard.'
The old wizard's face was unreadable. 'I see. Yet in life, she had dark hair and eyes like thine?'
'Yes,' Narnra said flatly, volunteering nothing more.
'How did she die?'
