Red Magic

"And then?"

Maligor winked at her and poured himself another glass of liqueur. "We won't stop there, of course. Growth is good for the soul and necessary for surviving in Thay."

He strode to the divan and eased himself back on the supple leather cushions, balancing his glass on his chest. "I need to relax," he said, yawning for effect. "Attend to your forces, and we will talk more tomorrow night."

She bent to kiss his forehead, carefully placed her glass on the floor near the stack of pillows, and slithered from the room.

When Maligor heard the door close behind her, he laughed, a soft maniacal chortle that made the guards stationed at the entrance shiver.

Beautiful fool, he thought as he sipped the liqueur. Fortunate for me that she is so blind. My true plans lie elsewhere, Asp, and are grander then you could ever imagine. My true plans would make even you pale.

Maligor's scheme included the naga and dictated she have a significant role, but it would not be a role she would fashion for herself. She would not direct an army, or even a single gnoll, he mused. I will pull her strings, and she will help me achieve wealth beyond her own imagining and power to put me beyond the other wizards' grasps. He finished the liqueur and let the glass fall to the floor, shattering.

Although the drink was having some effect on him, Maligor was actually becoming drunk on dreams of power. The Red Wizard's plans had taken him far in his life, through the ranks of the School of Alteration and eventually to its head as zulkir, where he had a hand in Thayvian politics and therefore a say in the very direction of the evil country. His forces were many and challenged that of the lich Szass Tam, whose legions of undead were legend. But he was certain his ambition surpassed the lich's.

Maligor could accomplish his goals without the aid of the snake-woman, he knew, but her presence would make certain things easier. His mind once again focused on the red-haired sorceress encountered by his darkenbeast.

Maligor stood, avoiding the slivers of glass, and steadied himself. He padded toward a sunken marble tub filled to the brim with water now grown tepid. Crouching unsteadily at its edge, the Red Wizard reached into a pocket of his robe and groped with his bony fingers. Rewarded, he withdrew a small clump of dried flower petals. Crushing them between his fingers, he dropped them into the water and concentrated, trying to remember every detail of the woman's face, every curl that cascaded over her forehead.

Ripples formed on the surface of the water, pushing the flower petals toward the edges of the tub. Then the water calmed, and in the center of the water's surface, the woman's visage appeared. Maligor strained his senses to hear her.

"Wynter," Bre

"We'll eat first, then start toward Thay," replied a deep voice. The Red Wizard could not identify the speaker. "Don't worry. We'll be inside that evil country soon enough."

Thay. Maligor's mind raced. Then the woman really could be a Red Wizard, an ambassador, perhaps, stationed in a neighboring land. Red Wizards were known to let their hair grow long when they mingled with others outside of Thay. It helped them fit in with many cultures and disguised their true heritage.

"I could use something to eat, too," the woman replied.

Maligor watched her slender hand rub her stomach through the cloth of an expensive dress. The woman's hand was bedecked with rings, marking her as a person of some wealth. The Red Wizard strained to see past her to get a hint of her surroundings, but the grayness of the day kept him from seeing very far. All Maligor could make out were the legs of a massive black war-horse behind her and tall grass everywhere. At least he knew the woman was outdoors, sitting on the ground probably, and not likely within the confines of a city. But he couldn't determine any real hint of her location.

"I'll help you pack up the tent," the deep voice continued.

"Thanks, Wynter," she replied in her melodic voice. Then her lips pursed and her delicate brows furrowed. The sorceress scratched at the back of her neck and then glanced about.

High in his tower, Maligor wondered what had caught the woman's attention. In another moment, he knew. The woman's eyes snapped open and she stared straight ahead. The Red Wizard saw her face plainly in the surface of the water. Her lips flew apart in a warning.

"Wynter, we're being watched! Someone's scrying on us!"

"Scrying?" the deep voice queried, obviously unaware of what the sorceress was talking about.

"I'll explain later," she said, her melodic voice becoming harsh and commanding.

Maligor watched as her intense eyes squeezed shut and she threw her hands over her ears. The Red Wizard heard her mumble something-magical words, he knew, but he was unfamiliar with them. An instant later, the water in the tub began to bubble, wiping out the image of the u

"Damn!" he swore, rising shakily to his feet. Maligor paced about the tub, still intent on the woman. "I must find her," he whispered. "I must know what she's up to."

"What is scrying?" Wynter persisted. "I don't understand."

"It's a form of magic," Bre

Wynter still looked puzzled.

"You can't see who's watching you, but sometimes you can tell you're being watched." Bre

"How did you know just now?" the centaur asked uncertainly.

Bre

"And now?"

"The presence is gone," Bre

"Good," Wynter said, feeling more relaxed.

"Only good to a point," the sorceress countered. "Whoever or whatever was watching us probably knows we're going to Thay."

The centaur scowled and trotted toward Galvin.

The Red Wizard continued his circuit of the tub, convinced now that the woman was a power to be reckoned with. Maligor was furious; he had little time to devote to the mysterious enchantress. He had his own goals-and his own personal army-to contend with.

Maligor knew he couldn't attempt to scry on her again, at least not for a while. He'd have to wait several hours until he regained enough magical energies. Needing to take his mind off the red-haired woman, he decided to check on his forces-forces that only he knew about.

Even Asp remained oblivious to Maligor's secret army. Although the spirit naga was the only being in whom he placed any semblance of trust, he nevertheless limited her knowledge. He would tell her of this other army only when the timing was right.

It is time to check on my soldiers, he reflected, pleased with himself about what awaited in the basement. He sauntered from the chamber as erect as his aged back and the liqueur allowed and motioned the guards not to follow.

"Instruct the slaves to put out the candles and clean the room," he ordered as he passed. "I am finished here for the evening." The guards moved immediately to comply.