appears connected to a set of bellows within.”
“Is the creature newly fashioned?”
The two women exchanged glances, and then Emthrara said, “We think not. In places where no royal blades penetrated, we believe, the metal is bright from wear and use. Some plates and pieces seem newer than others, as if replacements have been made.”
“And can you put it back to how you found it?”
There was some hesitation in Laspeera’s voice as she said, “We think so… if you hold that such a reassembly would be wise, lord.”
Vangerdahast waved one hand. “I was inquiring as to your abilities and the condition of the components, not ordering that such a process be undertaken.” He hummed absently for a moment or two, lost in thought, and then asked, “What powers the magic that gives this beast life? Can you tell?”
Laspeera shrugged. “I cannot be sure, but I am almost certain that life-force must be drained from a beast or a man to make this construct move.”
“And would this be an unwilling sacrifice or an unaware victim? A summoning, perhaps? And does it function according to its own will, or is it directed from afar?”
Laspeera spread her hands in mute demonstration of her ignorance. Emthrara followed suit, but added, “There are devices in the South that use a victim’s life-force for power. These sometimes require a victim of particular ability or appearance to make them function. In such cases, the life-force is sucked from the body as a great green flame. This may or may not be related.”
The Royal Magician sighed and turned back to the door. “Answers, as usual, are all too few and speculations all too many. Nonetheless, both of you have done well. My thanks.” He laid a hand on the door, then turned once more and asked, “So who, in your opinion, might be able to direct such a thing against Cormyr?”
Laspeera spread her hands again, but the Harper dancer smiled thinly and said, “Ah, now, lord wizard, you ask us to venture forth upon the seas of pure speculation.”
Vangerdahast gestured for her to do so.
She shrugged. “Leaving aside the always present but slim possibility that arcane magic has been sent to beset us by liches, lone mad mages, or cabals of ambitious powers from the world below who want our land as their surface playground-illithids, the Phaerimm, and others we know too little of to even list-leaving all these aside, we can easily name the Zhentarim, the Red Wizards of Thay, perhaps even the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan, or individual archwizards of Calimshan or Halruaa. Such folk have the necessary mastery of the arcane. As to why, we must open a far greater sphere of speculation. The folk who might hire such fell magic could be descendants of the Tuigan Khahan seeking revenge, elements of Sembia, the Zhentarim, or even Archendale seeking to weaken the realm-or even a rival noble house here at home, desiring to exterminate the Obarskyr line.”
The Royal Magician lifted an eyebrow, but the Harper added softly, “That is where I would look first, lord. Outlanders rarely manage to strike with swords or beasts at a specific person, in the heart of the realm, without knowing the ground… and their target… fairly well.”
Vangerdahast nodded slowly. “I have had similar thoughts. If this crisis passes, we must talk again, Lady Emthrara.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I am no lady.”
“Then you’ll not find a flagon of fine wine too much of an effrontery,” the wizard returned, “will you?”
She laughed. “Later, then-and be sure that it’s good wine.”
“The best,” Vangerdahast promised.
Laspeera rolled her eyes as the Lord High Wizard opened the door, then asked Emthrara loudly, “Do you know how many times he promises that?”
The Royal Magician of the Realm, Court Wizard of Cormyr, Chairman Emeritus of the College of War Wizards, Lord High Wizard of Suzail, Scepter of the Stonelands, and Master of the Council of Mages paused at the doorway and turned, his eyebrows arched in mock surprise. Both ladies laughed merrily and waved farewell.
Vangerdahast pointed at the abraxus on the table and growled, “Leave that not unguarded!” as the door swung closed. Turning from it, he found himself grinning and shook his head. He must be overtired.
“So tell me,” Emthrara said calmly as the door closed on the mage, “now that the free entertainment is gone, just how does one guard such a thing?”
Laspeera winked at her. “First, be aware that he loves to listen at doors. Our Royal Magician is seldom truly gone when you’re in the palace. Secondly, I don’t know. I’m going to raise a shell of antimagic around it, and then surround that with several spherical force barriers of various sorts.”
The Harper eyed her steadily. “And will all that work?”
Laspeera spread her hands. “With magicas always-who knows?”
Vangerdahast managed six steps along the quiet hall toward the back stair that led down to, among other things, the kitchens, where there might be some still-warm sage-and-pheasant soup in a pot somewhere, before a breathless palace page whirled around a corner and gasped, “Lord wizard! Lord wizard! The Sage Lord Alaphondar sends me to tell you that the priests have done their work-and adequate work, he terms it-and have pronounced Aunadar Bleth free from hurt or contagion!”
Vangerdahast nodded and smiled. “And-?”
“He and Sir Wizard Halansalim have Lord Bleth in their care now, in the Redpetal Room, and await your earliest pleasure there.”
“Well,” the Royal Magician demanded, “what are you waiting for?” And he plucked up his robes at the knees like a servingmaid and ran. The winded page could barely keep up.
“Untouched, all the high holy men agree. Untouched when the three you were riding with lie stricken, one dead… and yet you,” Vangerdahast said, spacing his words with menacing gentleness, “are… entirely.. untouched by the beast’s breath. I find that most curious. Would you not find that curious, Aunadar Bleth, if a man under your command came back unscathed from a fray with a poison-breathing beast that laid all of his companions low?”
“What are you saying?” the young noble snapped coldly, his face red with anger. He had been poked, prodded, and enspelled for the past several hours, and the strain and irritation shone on his face.
Alaphondar and the gaunt old war wizard across the room regarded him impassively. There were wands in both of their hands, and when Aunadar’s hand moved unconsciously toward the hilt of his sword, the tips of both wands lifted, to catch his eye, and twitched warningly.
The young man’s lips thinned as he set his mouth in a hard line, but his hand fell back to his side.
“What am I saying?” Vangerdahast’s voice was bitingly mild as he strolled back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. Aunadar’s eyes followed his progress. “I have, so far, said nothing. I merely ask. I ask you for your opinion, knowing my own already. But then, fat old men in robes never seem to have a high regard for the bravery and sword skills of swaggering youths, do they?”
Aunadar turned to face the wizard and snarled, “Enough of your insults, old man! I am a Bleth, not a lowborn dotard who happens to have a few wands and a title at court! I may not have taught the king everything he knows, but my father and his forebears have walked this land as long as the Obarskyrs! Few throughout all those long years ever dared to impugn their bravery!”
Aunadar’s blustering was met with only silence cold silence. When he, too, fell silent, his last shouted words fell like stones into an abyss, past eyes that were very gray with age this night, but as calm as if they belonged to a painting.
They belonged, in fact, to the Royal Magician of the realm, who said mildly, “As I recall, the Bleths have always been strong on old history and bearing grudges until full-fledged feuds are born. Since you mention longevity, let me inform you that I, lowborn commoner that I am, am descended from someone your tutors just may have acquainted you with: Baerauble Etharr. That means my ancestors have been treading the dirt of Cormyr longer than the noble sod has known the weight of either Obarskyr feet… or Bleth boots. Longevity, it seems, grants no special status.”
His tone changed from sadness to something with a little more thunder as he added, “Nor, as seems increasingly clear, does it have anything to do with loyalty.”
“Just what are you saying?” the young noble demanded, his rising voice making the challenge almost a plea.
The old wizard spread his hands. “I need to know-the crown needs to know-your loyalties in this affair.”
Their eyes locked in silence, and Vangerdahast added, “I need to know if I can trust the man who may be our
