'Mystra took me there,' Sharantyr told him, wonder in her eyes, 'and gave the sword to me. A weapon against the Malaugrym, she called it, and charged me to use it against them. Are you with me?'
'Shar,' Itharr said gently, 'we've been with you since we met in a ruined castle by the desert, and watched a crazy old mage kissing a rotten old archlich. We're still with you.' He tilted his head to regard her coolly. 'But are you sure your wits are steady?'
Sharantyr held up the blade. In response to her rising exultation, it blazed bright blue fire around her. 'You think I'm imagining this?'
'Well,' Belkram told the nearest wall brightly, 'it's certainly nice to share the same delusions as one's closest friends…'
Sylune chuckled. 'She's telling the truth, Harpers, and she's not crazed. Excited, yes, but meeting Mystra does that to one… as you should both remember.'
'I believe,' Belkram said, getting up and folding his blanket.
'We believe,' Itharr corrected, going back to retrieve his own bedding. 'So what now? You want us to follow that bright blade of yours through a gate into the castle of the Malaugrym and start dicing them up for morn- ingfeast?'
'Yes,' Shar said sweetly. Belkram rolled his eyes and groaned loudly, waking the horses.
'Look… we're a mite leery of swords that appear in the night-even with you holding them-and strange tales that go with them, so tell us plainly what you intend.'
Itharr grunted. 'And then we'll tell you plainly 'no.' Or at least, not until morning.'
Sharantyr and Sylune laughed together, making the horses snort and stamp. 'Well said,' Belkram told Itharr,
'Thank you,' the other Harper said, sketching a courtly bow.
Shar drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, 'My apologies, friends,' she said softly, 'for rousing you. Mystra did tell me to wait until morning. There's a gate to the Castle of Shadows down by the bridge, where you felt so uneasy, Itharr. When it's drawn, this sword shows me any magical gates nearby, and works them if I reach them and will it to. Mystra told me, 'Take your companions and go and slay Malaugrym for me.' So here I am.'
'Now that I can believe,' Belkram said with a shake of his head and a smile, 'because it sounds so unbelievable that it must be what Mystra did.'
Itharr nodded, a rueful smile on his face, and said, 'I'm forced to agree.' He sighed. 'They didn't tell me there'd be nights like this, back in Twilight Hall.'
They didn't tell me there'd be nights like this,' Sylune told him, 'back in Elminster's kitchen.'
'Elminster's kitchen? Didn't the man have enough class even to show you his bedchamber?' Belkram demanded.
'Harper boy,' Sylune told him severely, 'I was referring to when I was a babe, and a different kitchen than the one you've seen. And spare me your jokes about Elminster and young babes, too.'
'I'm beginning to realize,' Sharantyr said carefully, 'just why so few Harpers live long. They get angry swords right through their clever tongues.'
Belkram and Itharr both looked hurt. 'Critics,' Itharr said, 'everywhere we go in Faerun, we find ourselves surrounded by critics…'
'Get some sleep,' Sylune told him kindly. 'We've a castle to conquer in the morning.'
Another forgotten ruin in the Savage Frontier, with a side trip to the Flame Void, then the sky somewhere over Thay, Kythorn 18
'Nothing is worse than promises that are not meant and deeds that are not accomplished,' Midnight said quietly. 'I need folk who stand behind what they say and do. Such as Azuth-if he survives-and you.'
They clasped hands then, the man and the goddess. Both were white, drenched with sweat, and shaking. Long they had lain side by side, hands clasped, while Elminster's memories-his long road with Mystra, and what of her secrets and power he held-poured into Midnight, and she grew old and wise in a day and most of a night.
They walked out of the tomb together, an old, long-plundered tomb of Netheril whose stone biers had served the living as couches. If anyone saw them emerge, they did not tarry to offer a challenge.
Midnight wiped her mouth as if she'd eaten something foul. 'I… I've swallowed overmuch,' she murmured. 'I must go apart and think.'
'Seek Evereska, here,' Elminster suggested, 'or Ever-meet, over the water. The elves will let ye alone. When ye've thought, return and tell me your will. Until then, I'll spend my days as I've always done, darting here and there about Faerun, saying this and meddling with that, slaying here and building there… less grand than some godly servants, perhaps, but the tasks get done.' He faced her, eye to eye, and said gently, 'It may be, when ye return, that yell want me to lay down life and service together, and make room for your own style, and your own messengers.'
'No,' Midnight said softly, and then again, more firmly, 'No. I shall need your counsel in the ways of Faerun- and in plain common sense-to guide me for ages to come, or I shall be a worse wildheart than Talos, Lolth, Loviatar, and Malar have ever been, ruling by whim and wrecking all I touch, ending twisted and bitter, no doubt, or sinking down into madness and despair.'
Elminster bent his head. 'Then I shall be here, Lady, for as long as ye need and want me. I and all the Chosen, some of them gentler and grander and better than I.'
Midnight smiled and laid a hand on his arm. Blue fire swirled briefly around them both. 'Truly, I doubt that. You have walked the hard road, been the old gnarly rock, faced the worst moments. You did the work Mystra set you, and did it well. And in all Faerun, there's none of us, god or mortal, can do grander deeds than our duty.'
Elminster coughed. 'Ye'll be turning my head, next, las-er, Mystra. Go, and do thy thinking, and I'll try to set thy temples in order so ye'll find a good gaggle of priests to chant ritual profanit-er, litanies yer way.'
Midnight giggled at him and then growled in mock severity, 'By me ever-thunderin' vitals! Away with you, mortal! How canst I maintain my godly dignity when you mock me so?'
Elminster grinned and scratched his head. 'I've always wondered that, myself, lass, and-'
He stopped, looked thoughtful, and said, 'I'd not thought of this before, but ye could go to my Safehold. It's well away from the reach of any of these avatars and such, and has all the spells and potions and items ye're likely to want to play with. Two of its doors: the one into the wood with leaves tinged blue-that's Evermeet-and the one into the stone passage that leads into a cellar of my tower in Shadowdale, steps away from a flowshaft that'll take ye up to… ah, my bedchamber…'
Midnight giggled again. 'None of that. I'm Mystra now, remember?'
Elminster rolled his eyes. 'My reputation, I fear, has been somewhat enhanced by wagging tongues down the passing years.'
'Not from what I saw in your memories, it hasn't,' the goddess told him tartly. 'Take me to this Safehold, then. It sounds ideal.'
Elminster nodded, stroked his white beard for a moment, and then extended his hand. 'I have but to cast this spell, and-'
Abruptly they were somewhere else, but not the cozy room Elminster had been seeking. They were tumbling together in a void, a darkness lit by drifting stars. Midnight was curled up as a small child sleeps, eyes closed and mouth gaping open, face blank and hair streaming like night shadows around her. Elminster laid a comforting hand on her, but she did not stir. Magic that he could not break held her in thrall. The same titanic Art, presumably, that had twisted or broken his evasion spell to bring them here. 'To the Flame Void,' the Old Mage mused, 'but how-?'
'By my will, mortal mage,' said a voice from close by. Elminster turned and saw a man whose hair and beard were whiter than his own, whose face was unremarkable, but whose eyes and robes were both a dark swirl of stars, so that he seemed to be the heart of the Flame Void.
Elminster sighed. 'And who, sir, are ye?' he asked mildly.
'Some men call me the Overgod… others, the Hidden One.' 'Ao,' Elminster named him, leaning forward with interest. 'I've much to ask ye-'
The Overgod frowned. 'I am not here to give ye answers, presumptuous mortal. Ye have tried to hasten the elevation to full powers of my choice for Mystra's replacement, and take her from Faerun!'
