through the door, rod and all. The mists melted fingerbones, robes, and the feet off the lich as it struggled.
Then the mists slammed the door and roiled in front of it, sealing it off.
'That much,' the Royal Magician turned and told the Knights a little sadly, 'I can still do.' He seemed on the verge of saying more, then hesitated before adding, 'I quite understand and respect your need to take some time over deciding to aid me or not. I have waited decades for certain things to befall Cormyr, worked for years to bring many of those things about. I have mastered waiting. I shall withdraw yonder'-he pointed down the passage, a little way beyond the door where his spell was raging-'and let you debate without my interference.'
Pennae nodded and held up a hand to silence the rest of the Knights as they watched Vangerdahast walk away. 'Doust,' she said softly, 'watch him as if you're a hungry hawk. Speak if you see him do anything that might be spellcasting.'
'Understood,' Doust said.
'We're lost here, and these liches seem real enough to me,' Islif said without waiting for anyone else to speak. 'Which means we'll die, sooner or later, if one comes blundering up to us like the one we just saw-whether he staged that or not. We may need him as much as he needs us.'
Florin nodded. 'Yet before we plunge into talking tactics-'
'Arguing tactics,' Pennae interrupted with a grin, never turning her head from watching Vangerdahast.
'Arguing tactics,' Florin granted, 'I think we must decide how far we can trust Vangerdahast. Is he speaking truth to us now?'
Doust shrugged and pointed at Semoor. 'If I pray-if either or both of us priests prays properly-we can be granted the power to know falsehoods when uttered. We can do this and put specific questions to Vangey-questions vIe should frame carefully. The spells have strict limits, but we will know if this tale of Unbinding and an impostor and our ennoblement is truth.'
'Let's do that,' Islif said.
'Agreed,' Pennae said, 'but remember this: Vangey will be standing listening to everything we say. Let's decide some things, quickly, while we have this much privacy.'
Manshoon had half-turned away from the Knights, feigning what he fancied might be the dignity-or perhaps pomposity would be a better word-of Vangerdahast. They were walking slowly toward him now, all of them, so he turned back to face them.
Florin walked at their fore, face stern. 'Very well, Lord Vangerdahast,' he said formally, stopping a few paces away. 'We'll do it. And may the curses of all the gods of Faerun drown and dismember you if you've deceived us.'
'You probably got it all,' Dauntless said. 'One can't tell from the smoke. That's apt to go on for some time. Yet I'm not expecting the forest to flare up around us.' He shrugged. 'We'll have Dragon patrols here, regardless. The smoke'll do that much.'
'I didn't want to use any magic,' Tsantress said grimly, 'but…' She shook her head in exasperation and went back to staring through the thicket in which they were crouching at the roofless ruin that half the population of eastern Cormyr seemed to have vanished inside, now.
Watching Gods Above, it can't be that big inside. If they weren't falling down some pit or other, they must be heaped up like… like…
'Oh, gods,' she whispered, 'are they all dead, d'you think?'
'Now, lady wizard, thinking always gets us Purple Dragons in trouble-as the Royal Magician is all too fond of reminding us,' Dauntless said. 'If you're asking me if I'm anxious to draw sword and step in there, the answer is no. Not at this time.'
Tsantress grinned at his mimicry of one of Alaphondar's favorite Court phrases. She stiffened and tapped a warning finger across her lips. When Dauntless stared a silent question at her, she used that same finger to point through the brush in another direction. She crouched down even lower.
Another man had come into view, walking warily and holding a wand out before him as if it were a sword. He seemed unfamiliar with the terrain and almost to be feeling-no, sensing-his way forward.
'What's Lorbryn doing here?' Tsantress breathed, more to herself than Dauntless. 'What's going on? Is Vangerdahast sending watchers to watch his watchers?'
Chapter 14
Into Our Laps Forward, my bold, brave Dragons Swords out, all, and check the maps A plenitude of beauties and flagons Seek, all to end up in our laps!
Growling to himself, the Royal Magician of Cormyr casr the scrying spell a second time, then sat back to gaze upon the glossy black marble tabletop and wait. Again, nothing.
He shook his head. With all of these augmentations and a perfect casting, the magic should have yielded some indications. Even if Deltalon was on another plane or dead, the Weave echo should have come back to Vangerdahast to tell him the magic had sought but failed.
Yet it became clear that no echo was coming. Nothing. As if the spell were racing away across infinite distances, seeking, forever seeking, and not finding…
Vangerdahast grunted. This looked darker and darker.
He heaved himself to his feet and started to stride from the room, then stopped, settled down in his chair again, and cast a much simpler magic.
Not seeking Deltalon, this time, but on impulse, checking on Taltar Dahauntul through the ornrion's belt and boots. He murmured the added incantation that would also let him see through the Dragon's eyes. That would give Dauntless a raging headache, but, hah, to quote words he'd used far too often down the years, we must all make these little sacrifices in the service of Cormyr.
The air over the table whirled silently, then coalesced into a scene.
He was now seeing what Dauntless was gazing at… and he was peering through a thick tangle of saplings, clinging vines, and forest brush at-Lorbryn Deltalon!
Vangerdahast blinked, drew breath to swear, and abruptly the view over the table changed as the distant Dauntless turned his head. He was now looking at Wizard of War Tsantress Ironchylde, who was evidently crouching in a foresr thicket somewhere, right beside the ornrion.
Dauntless turned his head again to watch Deltalon stalk cautiously across a clearing of sorts, wand in hand, up to the missing door ofVangerdahast stood bolt upright, upending his stool with a clatter, and roared the most furious curses he knew at the ceiling.
The scene above the table calmly continued to unfold, no matter how hard and often the Royal Magician glared at it.
'All gods stlarn it all!'
He ran out of verbal filth to spew and shook his head, aghast at where the two war wizards and that pain-in- the-sitter ornrion were: the only open way into the Lost Palace.
Vangerdahast called on the power of his rings and bellowed, 'Laspeera!'
Through a surging red mist of pain and a gasp, both supplied by his most trusted Wizard of War half the Palace away, he saw the astonished faces of the novice war wizards she'd been instructing.
She was wincing and clutching at her head, but Vangey wasted no time on apologies or niceties. Brutally ramming what he was seeing over the table into her mind, he snarled, 'Do you know anything about this?'
'No, Van-Lord Vangerdahast,' Laspeera groaned, fingers clawing at her temples and face pinched in pain. 'I don't. At all.'
The students staring at her clearly heard the Royal Magician's answering roar, spilling out of her ears. 'To me! Right now! Hurry! The safety of the realm hangs on this!'
