“Something… bad,” Dove said softly. “Oh, Mystra.”
The knights burst into the study, a frantic Florin at their head, and ran right over the war wizard in their way.
Narantha Crownsilver was impaled on a sword, dying. “Highly overrated,” she gasped, not seeming to see them, and her face twisted as she tried to laugh… and found she couldn’t.
As Florin flung himself across the room, clawing at his belt for a potion, Narantha spat blood and turned to look at him, her face still twisted in agony. “It’s in my head, ” she sobbed. “Don’t heal me, or it’ll get out!”
“What, Nantha?” Florin cried, flinging his sword down and reaching for her.
Narantha drooled blood all over his hands as she shuddered, and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. “This,” she whispered. “ This is what it means to love Cormyr.”
“What’ve you done?” he cried. “Why-why?”
The Lady Narantha Crownsilver peered up at him pleadingly through her mask of blood and tears to gasp, “Oh, Florin, I had to do it. You see that, don’t you?”
And then she died.
Here ends Book 1 of the tales of the Knights of Myth Drannor.
Their adventures are continued in Swords of Dragonfire.
