The Silver Spell by Anjali Banerjee

Author:Anjali Banerjee [Banerjee, Anjali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-3750-9
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2005-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Dawn lit the sky as Kellach, Moyra, and Driskoll raced through the Phoenix Quarter toward the center of the city. They passed men, elves, and half-orcs wandering in a zombielike haze. Many merchants in Main Square had fallen asleep while setting up their booths. Young thieves dashed through the crowd, snatching oranges, beads, knives, and any other items they could grab.

“Where is the watch?” Moyra asked, glancing around in desperation.

“Most of them are wandering.” Kellach pointed. A member of the watch strolled along, eyes glazed, his sword dangling uselessly at his side. He was oblivious to the shouting and commotion.

“The kids aren’t affected,” Moyra said, running after Kellach. “The adults are all in a stupor.”

“What can we do?” Driskoll asked.

“Nothing right now,” Kellach said. “We have to get to Zendric’s tower. It’s somewhat protected.”

Kellach searched in vain for the curly-haired woman with freckles. She could be, anywhere. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, and the air turned cold.

“Maybe we should summon Zendric,” Moyra said. “The city is falling apart.”

“We’ll try to fix Locky and send him,” Kellach said.

Driskoll fell back, his feet dragging. Kellach slowed, grabbed his arm, and forced him to run faster.

They reached Zendric’s tower, slipped through the gate, and took the tower stairs two at a time to Zendric’s study. Kellach shut the door and latched it, then took a deep breath. They were safe inside, for the moment. The room smelled faintly of wax, books, and chemicals. Lining the walls were shelves filled with ancient tomes. Vellum scrolls were stacked on tables, parchments and carpets on the walls, and sculptures and statues crowded the corners. Ever-burning torches sent long fingers of light across the room.

Lochinvar whirred to life and floated forward, still grinding and grating, then dived and crashed into a chair. Kellach hid the invisible cloak and spellbook behind a row of books on a shelf, then rushed to the dragonet. “Locky! Are you all right?” He gathered Lochinvar in his arms.

“Kel-lach,” Lochinvar said in a tinny voice. “Sense of—direction—a bit—confused.”

“Your landing was way off-kilter.” Kellach put the dragonet on his shoulder. Metallic claws curled gently around the fabric of Kellach’s robes. “Loch-in-var is okay,” the dragonet said.

“Just stay here for now, okay?”

Lochinvar nodded, extending his silver neck. The scales gleamed in the torchlight.

Moyra strode to the shelves and began checking through the books.

Driskoll sat in Zendric’s great armchair and put his feet up on the desk. His face was pale, his eyes dim. “Why don’t we just give the spellbook to Mom? Then maybe all this commotion will stop.”

“I hardly think so,” Moyra said. “If we give her the book, the city is doomed.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Driskoll waved an arm. “It’s just a spellbook.”

“Just?” Kellach shouted. Locky shifted on his shoulder. “It was her most precious possession. It contains all her early spells, in her own handwriting. She went to great pains to make sure only I would discover her spellbook, and nobody else. Don’t you remember how I found it? When I was twelve, I was practicing an enlarge spell on a ceramic dragon statue.

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