Crown of Fire

"I'm sorry about your window," Shandril said as the Lord of Eveningstar sucked her burned fingertips, "But there's nothing to keep me here longer, now, I'd like to strike at this Fzoul right away."

Tessaril sat up and looked at her gravely, "Shan, you're not ready yet?"

Shandril nodded, smiled softly, and inclined her head toward the ruined window, "Neither," she said quietly, "is he."

Sixteen

BLOOD, BLADES, AND BITTER WORDS

Some kings sit upon more bloody thrones than this one, mind, When they talk business, 'tis all blood, blades, and bitter words

Mirt the Moneylender Wanderings With Quill and Sword Year of Rising Mist

"Ill-prepared Fzoul may or may not be," the Lord of Eveningstar said quietly. "but if you rush in without plans and swords at your side, you will certainly be ill-prepared-and doomed."

"I think not," Shandril replied, eyes flashing. "Forgive me, Tess. but that's where you-and Storm, and everyone else except maybe Elminster makes a mistake. You think of going up against Zhentil Keep with an army, That sort of thing the Zhents know well, They've had much practice smashing down such attacks. I'll do much better if I go alone."

She strode to the bedroom closet and took out her battered pack, The few clothes she had left hung forlornly above it, With a determined air, she started to take them down.

"Alone? It'll mean your death, Shan." Tessaril shook her head. "Aren't you even going to take Narm and Mirt with you?"

"No," Shandril said quietly, "You and Storm just gave him back to me-I'm never going to lose him again if I can help it, I'm certainly not going to drag him to his certain death," She turned, a patched and dirt-stained gown in her hands, and added with the ghost of a smile, "And I can't sneak anywhere or do anything agile without a lot of noise if I'm saddled with the Old Wolf."

An involuntary smile came and went across Tessaril's features, "I'm not sure he'd be pleased to hear that," she said slyly, "Shall I go tell him?"

"No!" Shandril whirled and took the Lord of Eveningstar by the shoulders, flames leaping in her eyes. "Don't tell any of them, or I'll never be able to go."

Her hands fell away, and she stepped back, drew a deep breath, and then looked up at the lord.

"Forgive me, Tess-after all you've done for me, I hate to do this. But I must go, now, while I still have nerve enough. Before Fzoul's arranged things just as he wants them and I'm doomed to die in the thirtieth trap he set for me, or the sixty-fifth ambush, or the-"

"Shandril," Tessaril said, looking into her eyes, "calm down, and think-is this wise? Well, is it?"

Spellfire blazed in the depths of Shandril's eyes, which were so close to her that Tessaril gasped, shuddered and drew back, face pinched in pain.

Shandril gulped, She let go of her and turned her head way, "I'm sorry, Tess-I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm as dangerous to you as to my foes," Tears shone in her eyes as she turned back to the white-faced Lord of Eveningstar. Impulsively, Shandril threw her arms around Tessaril and kissed her, "You must realize, Tess-wisdom is something for priests, and sages, and wizards, and-normal folk. It's no good to me."

"Are you that lonely, Shan?" Tessaril whispered, holding her.

Shandril angrily shook tears away and said, "No, Not anymore. You-and Mirt, and Elminster, and Storm, and the knights-and most of all, Narm – have given me friends along my road, That's why I must go up against the Zhentarim now. If I run and hide again, they'll come after you and all my other friends, to draw me out into battle… like they did to those poor soldiers at Thundarlun."

She stuffed the gown into her pack in a wadded, wrinkled mass and said angrily, "I have all this power and I can't do anything with it but fend off wizards who toy with me, attacking whenever they feel especially cruel. What good is spellfire if I can't strike at them when I want to?"

"Shandril," the Lord of Eveningstar whispered. "Be careful, Very careful. The last time I heard words like that, they came from the lips of the sorceress who trapped you in Myth Dra

"The Shadowsil?"

Tessaril nodded, "Whom you slew."

Shandril shook her head angrily. "I am not like her, Never, She enjoyed killing."

"Do you?"

Shandril stared at her, white-lipped. Then she bent forward, eyes blazing again. "Get me to that citadel!" she snapped, -Now!"

"Or?" Tessaril stared sadly into her eyes, "Will you use spellfire on me?" she asked quietly, sitting motionless. "Here I am," she added, gesturing at her breast, "Strike me down." Unshed tears glimmered in her eyes as she added softly, "like the lich lord did."

Shandril snarled in frustration, Flames chased briefly around one of her hands as she clenched it into a fist. "No," she said, turning away, "I will not-and you know it." She drew breath, let it out in a shuddering sigh, and then asked quietly, "Must I beg you to help me, Tess?"

"No," Tessaril said quietly, "I just don't want to lose a friend so quickly… I'll be sending you to your doom." "Please," Shandril hissed, "Just do it!"

"Why?"

Shandril swallowed, "For the first time in my life," she said, in a voice that trembled, "I want to be free! Spellfire has ruled me-and I'll never learn to master it unless I use it as and when I want to… just once." She glared at the Lord of Eveningstar and shouted, "Weren't you ever young? Didn't you ever want to do as you pleased?"

Tessaril shook her head, "That's no good reason," she said with quiet scorn, "Every child wants to have her own way."

"I've another reason. Shandril said coldly, bringing her chin up, "The Zhents killed Delg. My last companion from the Company of the Bright Spear, a Harper who laid down his life for me, I swore to avenge him. And my unborn child. And by the gods, l will!"

Her shout echoed in the small room, She stared at the Lord of Eveningstar, eyes blazing, panting with emotion, her backpack twisted and forgotten in her hands.

Tessaril nodded slowly, her eyes grave, "All right," she whispered, voice unsteady. "Stand back, I'll aid you," "You will?"

Sorrow stole like a shadow across the Lord of Eveningstar's face, "I know what it is like to be ruled by the need for revenge, Shan. You must be set free-as I was, long ago."

"You were?"

Tessaril looked at her, face a white mask, and said in a voice of iron, "I will not say more. We all have our limits," Shandril looked at the lord in sympathy, and then her eyes slowly hardened, "Help me, then-and no more tricks, like your wine."

The Lord of Eveningstar lifted her chin, and said, "I'll not betray you, Shan. Ever." She took a deep, trembling breath, managed a little smile, and went on, "I dare not teleport you into so small and crowded a room as the one Fzoul was in-and Wizards' Watch Tower has magical traps built into it to prevent teleportation in or out. I'll send you to the nearest courtyard, Spell Court,"

She waved a hand, and an image of a tall, many-spired city appeared in midair across the room, In the foreground was a large, flagstone paved open area.

"Spell Court?"

Tessaril nodded, "Yes, The entire citadel is linked fortresses and courtyards, Strike quickly, save your fire for Zhents and not their buildings-and when you need to hide, get up into the highest spires you can rind and look for wizards spell-casting chambers, Many have powerful warding spells against magical scrying and also hold stores of healing potions; Zhentarim who've been too bold and gotten hurt run to them when they must."

Shandril stared at the scene and said slowly, her voice almost a whisper, "I want to slay at least five wizards and see fear on Fzoul's face-Delg's life must be worth at least that much. Is the large tower Wizards Watch?"