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Still wearing its cruel smile, the face closed its eyes and shrank back into the column of flame, fading as it did so. In a few moments the flames fell back into the rune, and it winked out, becoming mere dark and lifeless grooves in the stone floor.
"Did that curse afflict ye?" Elminster demanded, striding around to where he could see Saeraede.
She lifted the edge of her beautiful mouth in a wry smile. "Never . .. nor has it touched anyone, for 'tis all a bluff. Believe me, I've seen it many times down the years, whenever I grew overly lonely for the sight and sound of another human. 'Tis an empty warning, no more."
El nodded, almost trembling in his eagerness, and asked, "How can one see the scenes held by the other runes...and just what is in each?"
Saeraede pointed. "In this next rune lie two of the most destructive spells devised by Karsus...magics none else have attained since...as well as a defensive shielding of surpassing strength and a healing magic, he placed them thus in case his new self should have urgent need to do battle."
Her pointing finger moved. "The rune beyond holds another four magics, as powerful as the battle-spells but of more mundane usage. One creates a floating 'worldlet' to serve as a stronghold for the mage who uses magic to modify it further, one can stop and hold the waters of a river while digging out a new course for its bed, one can shield an area permanently against specific spells or schools of spells with precision...so that one can allow a lightning bolt but deny chain lightning, say, and the last can coddle and keep from harm a living human while permanently altering one limb or organ...Karsus most often used that to move heart or brain to an unexpected place, or graft beast claws where hands had been or extra eyeballs from others ... he also gave some men gills to work under the sea for him, as I recall."
Saeraede waved her hand at the curving row of runes. "The others hold lesser magics, four in each...and Karsus himself demonstrates all castings, noting drawbacks, details, and effective strategies."
She watched the hunger in Elminster's face and suppressed a smile. She had seen this so many times before ... even Chosen, it seemed, were like eager children when offered new toys. She waited for the question she knew would come.
Elminster licked lips that were suddenly dry, before he could swallow and say quietly, "I asked how one can awaken these runes, lady, to view what waits within … and ye've not answered that. Is there some secret here, some hazard or caution?"
Saeraede gave him a warm and welcoming smile. 'Nay, sir. As you're not Karsus and able to work the magics that respond only to his blood, there's but a matter of time...and your patience."
El raised a questioning eyebrow, and her smile broadened and slid into sadness.
"Only I can activate the runes," the woman on the throne added softly, "and I can call forth the power of only one in a month, by means of a nameless spell bound into me by Karsus. 'Tis a spell I know not how to cast, nor can I teach it to another. I can only call on it when the time is right...and I have no doubt 'tis the sole reason I still exist."
Elminster opened his mouth to say something, his eyes alight with eager fire, but Saeraede held up a hand to stay his speech, and added, "You asked of a hazard? There is one, and 'tis thus: long years must have passed since I was bound here, for my powers have faded indeed. I can awaken one rune, and no more. To open another will destroy me...and all of the magic stored here will drain away and be lost, it ca
"So there is no way to see the spells Karsus stored here...or at least, more than one foursome of them?"
"There is a way," Saeraede said softly, her eyes on his. "If you use that last spell I spoke of, not to give me gills or a tail, but to pass magical strength into me ... the magic of another spell that heals, or imparts vitality, or places the vital, flowing power of Art in items, to recharge them. All of these should work."
Elminster frowned in thought. "And we must bide here a month, to see the rune that holds that spell?"
Saeraede spread her hands. "You freed me and woke the first rune. I am yet able to awaken a rune, now... and I owe you my very life. Would you like to see the rune I spoke of, which holds the spell that will let me live to unlock the others for you?"
"I would," El said eagerly, striding forward.
Saeraede rose from the throne and held up her hands in warning.
"Remember," she said gravely, "you'll see Karsus instructing himself how to cast those spells, and the rune will then be dead forever, its spells...spells neither you nor any living mage may now be able to cast...lost with it."
She took two slow steps away from Elminster, then turned back to face him, pointing down at the rune. "If you want to preserve its power and be able to view it again hereafter, there is a way ... but it will call greatly on your trust."
Elminster's brows rose again, but he said merely, "Say on."
Saeraede spread empty hands in the age-old gesture traders use to show they are unarmed, and said gently, "You can cha
The eyes of the last prince of Athalantar narrowed. "Mystra forfend," he murmured, raising a reluctant hand.
"Elminster," Saeraede said beseechingly, "I owe you my life. I mean you no harm. Take whatever precautions you see fit...a blindfold, bindings, a gag." She extended her arms to him, wrists crossed over each other in a gesture of submission. "You have nothing to fear from me."
Slowly, Elminster stepped forward and took her cold hand in his.
Nineteen: More Blood Than Thunder
The thunder of a king's tongue can always spill more blood than his own weight in gold before dawn the next morning.
Mintiper Moonsilver, Bard
from the ballad Great Changes Aborning
first performed circa The Year of the Sword and Stars
Saeraede's touch was cold...colder than icy rivers he'd plunged into, colder even than the bite of blue glacial ice that had once seared his naked skin.
Gods! Elminster struggled to catch his breath, too shocked even to moan. The face so close to his held no hint of triumph, only anxious concern. El stared into those beautiful eyes and roared out his pain in a wordless shout that echoed around the cavern.
It was answered a moment later by a greater roar, a rumbling that shook the cavern and split its gloom with a flash of light...a flash that made all of the runes briefly catch fire, and sent a slim, stealthy figure shrinking back hastily into its crevice, unregarded.
One of her best spells, shattered like a glass goblet hurled to stones...and it could not be any doing of this helpless, shuddering mage in her hands. Oh, dark luck rule: were there spells on a Chosen that called for aid by themselves?
Saeraede straightened, eyes blazing, and snarled, 'Who-?'
The light that stabbed down the shaft this time was no flash of destruction but a golden column of more lasting sorcery. Four figures rode its magic smoothly down into the cavern of the throne, boots first.
Three of the men in that column of light were old and stout and amazed. Caladaster, Beldrune, and Tabarast were all staring in awe at their companion. The quiet Harper had just broken a spell that had shaken the very trees around in its passing, and swept away a thick stone floor in the doing with a casual wave of his hand. He'd taken a few steps forward, smiled reassuringly at them, and another gesture had swept them up into waiting radiance and borne them down the shaft together in its glowing heart.