02 Swords of Dragonfire by Ed Greenwood

Author:Ed Greenwood [Greenwood, Ed]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Whirling around, he sralked back across the room to his spellbooks, viciously backhanding The Shadowsil out of the way as she came hurrying through a side-door, worry on her face and a wand ready in her hand.

Snarling, Manshoon jerked down one heavy tome, and then another. They thundered down onto his polished desk, he flung them open—and stepped back in horror as a body appeared out of nowhere, sprawled faceup atop them.

Though it had the semblance of an intact corpse, The Shadowsil's gasp told Manshoon he wasn't imagining what he'd just noticed. The dead man's head, torso, arms, and legs were all neatly arranged, in their proper places, but were in fact severed, separate pieces, all slowly oozing dark gore all over his most precious grimoires. He'd already recognized the face. Himself.

As Manshoon stared down at his clone, its lips moved and Elmin-ster's voice issued from them, saying, "Aye. Entertainment."

+ + -4- + *

The air was thick with dust, and the coughing, choking Knights, Laspeera, and a tattered and dusty Dauntless all lay in a heap, entangled with each other. The ceiling no longer groaned and shivered into shards—but it now hung just above them, nowhere more than waist-high, held up on the points of nine floating, glowing swords.

Pennae eyed the Dragonfire swords longingly. They were so close that she could easily have stroked the golden sheen of three of those blades from where she lay. Yet it was obvious that trying to take even one might well cause a collapse, and death for everyone.

She sighed. "Now what?"

Half-pinned beneath her, Florin lifted a long arm to point down their low-ceilinged prison at one of the doorways that had been outlined in sparks by the awakening of the Dragonfire magic. It was the only portal not now walled away by rubble, and it continued to twinkle, wavering slightly as they stared at it.

"We take the only way out," the ranger-Knight said, "and hope for the best."

Jhessail shuddered. "And if it leads into somewhere alive with snarling beasts? Or wizards hurling spells at us?"

Florin shrugged. "I haven't avenged Narantha yet," he said softly. "So I cannot die. Wherefore, if you keep behind me, you should be safe."

Jhessail stared at his eyes and shivered.

Florin looked up and down the tangle of Knights and Crown folk, and pointed again at the portal. "I say again: we chance the portal. Now."

"And we don't even touch any of those swords," Islif added, looking at Pennae. "Not one, and not even for an instant. So shift your selves carefully. Let's move."

"Our holynoses?"

"Drag them. Gently."

Semoor groaned theatrically. "Oh, yes. 'Drag me. Gently.' Wonderful."

"Upon second thinking," Islif said, "bring Doust and leave the noisy one behind to guard these valuable magic swords. We should be able to return in a year or so. He won't lack for entertainment, nor starve; he can chew on his own words."

"Drag me please," Semoor pleaded, quickly.

"Aye, I'll drag you," Dauntless growled. "Lady Mage?"

Laspeera had seemed senseless, but her eyelids fluttered as he shook her gently.

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