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Authors: Troy Denning

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BOOK: The Summoning
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“Phaerimm?” gasped Malik. The little man backed out from beneath the tree. “Perhaps it is not so far around the mountains after all.”

 

Melegaunt grabbed the newcomer’s cloak. “There aren’t any phaerimm here, and I can sneak us past the beholders.”

He started to back out from beneath the tree, and Vala said, “You’re just going to abandon the stone giants?”

Melegaunt did not stop. “They’re dead or gone.”

“Not all of them.”

Vala pointed near the cliff top, where a distant pair of gray legs extended down out of the clouds to balance on the stone wing of a sculpted eagle. As the companions watched, one foot moved up the cliff in search of a foothold, but found none and reluctantly returned to its former place.

“That complicates things.” Melegaunt pushed himself out from beneath the tree. “Well have to hurry, if we are to save him.”

“I beg a thousand pardons, but you have clearly lost your mind.” Malik crawled after the wizard. “Dead men save no lives!”

“You’re free to try another way, of course.” Melegaunt stood and started around the shoulder of a small hill. “But there’s nothing to worry about. You and the others will go through as I planned. Ill just take a small detour and help the giant off the mountain.”

Galaeron found himself racing both Malik and Vala as he scrambled after the wizard into a sheltered draw where they had left their gear and Malik’s horse.

“You can’t do that,” Galaeron said.

Melegaunt faced him frowning. “I’ll not abandon anyone to become a beholder’s plaything, not when it’s within my power to prevent it.”

“Granted, but you’re the only one who knows where we’re going and who we’re looking for,” said Vala, all but taking the words out of Galaeron’s mouth. “If something should go wrong….”

Melegaunt looked insulted. “We’re only talking about a few beholders.”

“I can’t let you take that chance, not when the fate of’

 

Evereska hangs in the balance,” said Galaeron. Despite the objection, Melegaunt’s determination to rescue the giant quelled many of the doubts the elf had been having about the wizard. “Ill rescue the giant, unless you’d rather tell me how to find whoever it is we’re looking for.”

The wizard’s expression turned darker than usual. “Be careful what you wish for, young elf.” He looked from Galaeron to Vala, then back to Galaeron again. “Very well, we’ll do it your way, provided you can still use the other magic I showed you.”

Malik’s ears perked up at this. “What do you mean, ‘other magic?’”

“It doesn’t concern you.” Melegaunt turned his back on the little man. “And even if it did, there’s no time to explain now.”

“I understand completely.” Malik slipped around to place himself directly between Galaeron and Melegaunt “Only, I have always been given to believe that the Weave is the only source of magic.”

Melegaunt scowled at him. “Why should this interest you? Are you a wizard?”

. “I am a man of many interests,” said Malik. “And magic is among them, for my master—”

“We’ll talk later,” interrupted Melegaunt.

He glanced in Vala’s direction. She grabbed Malik by the collar and, even as he tried to explain his interest, dragged him away. Her treatment was rough enough to draw a low whinny of warning from the sad-eyed horse.

Melegaunt turned back to Galaeron. “About the other magic—”

“Still available to me,” said Galaeron, deciding to keep to himself for the moment just how available. “Here’s what I was thinking.”

Galaeron outlined his plan.

When he finished, Malik called, “You can cast the same spells twice?” He asked this from near his horse, where Vala

 

had dragged him. “How did you know to study those spells more than once? Or can you do this because of the ‘other’ magic?”

“Quiet!” Melegaunt hissed.

He turned to glower, but Vala was already locking an arm around Malik’s neck. She slapped her other hand over the newcomer’s mouth and deftly put him between herself and his horse when the beast turned to nip at her.

“Are you trying to give us away?” she asked.

Malik’s face paled, and he shook his head.

Melegaunt returned to Galaeron. “Remember, the beholders are less able to detect your shadow magic than the phaerimm, but they can still dispel it. If they notice your presence, stay clear of the rays from their central eyes.”

“That lesson I learned from the first one we fought,” said Galaeron.

“Good.” Melegaunt reached into his sleeve and produced a small wisp of what looked like black fog. “This is shadow silk, the primary element of much shadow-shaping magic. Let me show you a spell that may prove useful, and we’ll be on our way.”

The wizard started to run through the gestures, then noticed Malik watching. He turned his back to the little man, confiding to Galaeron, “There’s something about him I just don’t trust.”

“Yes, mysterious humans do have a way of raising suspicions,” said Galaeron, resisting the temptation to comment on his own uneasiness with the wizard. “You were showing me a variation on a web spell?”

Melegaunt cocked his brow. “I hadn’t really thought of it as a web, but yes, I suppose that’s the heart of the matter.”

The wizard finished his demonstration. Galaeron repeated the words and gestures to make certain he understood them correctly.

“Amazing.” Melegaunt could only shake his head. “Magic shouldn’t be that easy for anyone.”

 

“It isn’t, really,” Galaeron confided. “1 must practice like anyone else to learn something new. But when it’s basically a spell I already know, it’s no big trouble to understand a few changes and what they do.”

“A few changes?” Melegaunt shook his head incredulously. “No big trouble indeed!”

He went over to Malik and Vala, then circled his hand over the ground, creating a floating shadow disk similar to the one they had used to transport the wounded elves. Malik watched with interest, then undid the girth strap and placed the saddle in the center of the floating circle.

When the little man removed the bit from her mouth, Melegaunt said, “It’s not necessary to leave your horse behind. If we cover her eyes, shell never know we’re moving.”

“You misunderstand. Kelda needs no blinders,” Malik grabbed the mare by the soft halter and had no trouble convincing her to jump onto the disk. “But she has always been a faithful horse, and if you madmen are determined to see us all dead on account of one cowardly giant lacking the courage to die with the rest of his tribe, then I will not have her starving in these mountains because I was too stupid to remove her saddle and bit.”

The little man clambered onto the disk and kissed his horse full on the snout Galaeron looked to the other humans and saw by their expressions that they found this behavior as puzzling as he did. Melegaunt and Vala climbed up with Malik, and the wizard cast another spell, turning the platform and everything on it invisible. There was a startled whinny, followed by a whispered request from Malik to please be silent and not get them all killed. A puff of wind stirred the blowing snow into a white eddy, which started down the draw toward the trail and vanished into the general blizzard.

“Well see you on the other side, Galaeron,” called Vala. “And be careful.”

‘You may count on it,” said Galaeron. “But if something happens—”

 

“You’ll be on your own,” said Melegaunt. “Don’t worry.”

“And that is the most sensible thing any of you have said since I saved you with my fire,” added Malik.

Galaeron allowed them another minute to drift safely ahead, then cast two spells on himself. To his surprise, he discovered that the cold magic did not rush into him as it had during the bugbear attack. To make it come, he had to think of his shadow self—to embrace it, really—and open himself to the cold magic’s presence. Whether this sluggishness was due to the lack of shadows in the blizzard or because he was not presently overcome by the heat of battle, he did not know. He was just happy to discover he retained more control over his magic than he had thought

Galaeron launched himself over the spruce tree with a gentle leap, then swung toward Thousand Faces well above the heads of the two stone giant guard statues. To avert the possibility of colliding with each other, they had agreed that Galaeron would fly higher than a giant and Melegaunt would stay lower. This put the wizard and the others more directly in the area watched by the beholders, but there was no avoiding it The platform would float no more than a dozen feet off the ground.

Galaeron paused at the canyon entrance and used a spell to search for magic wards. He could see a dozen beholders lurking in the grotto’s shadowy portals, the reflections of their eyes flitting about like swarms of golden fireflies. With so many eyes turned in his direction, Galaeron was nervous enough that the cold magic came to him very easily. Though the presence of two sculpted guardians would suggest defensive wards in most elf communities, not so with stone giants. The statues were just that, decorative artworks designed to greet—or perhaps intimidate—anyone entering the canyon.

Galaeron flew on, climbing toward the rim of the gorge. The giant’s legs were completely hidden behind a low cloud sliding along the cliff tops, but the elf could still see the stony eagle his feet stood upon. Twenty paces from the great bird.

 

Galaeron was astonished to see a swarm of eyes peering out from a window hidden beneath the bird’s great wing. Perhaps the little human had been right, after all. By Tomb Guard doctrine, at least, Galaeron should not even try to rescue the giant. The saving of one life simply did not justify the risking of four.

It was good thing no one followed that particular precept.

Galaeron reached the wall and ascended into the clouds, running a hand along the cliff to orient himself in the gray haze. He felt the eagle’s wing pass beneath his fingertips, then rose past the blurry silhouette of a foot as long as his forearm. How the enormous toes could cling to such a small ledge he could not imagine, but the huge ankle was trembling with fatigue. Galaeron ascended alongside the giant leg to a giant waist, where he had to swing around a tool belt hung with steel hammers of various sizes, then continued up the giant’s flank. He circled away from a cavernous armpit, looped over gnarled biceps, passed a neck as thick as a pillar, and found himself staring into a pair of eyes as big as dinner plates.

Galaeron took a piece of copper filament from his pocket and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. The shadow magic flooded into him, then he pointed at the giant’s head and began to whisper.

“Don’t cry out, giant. You have nothing to fear.”

The giant flinched, lost a toe hold, and groaned. Galaeron cursed the big fellow’s lack of self-discipline, then slipped a few arm lengths across the cliff and grabbed the shadow silk Melegaunt had given him. A glimmer of hope appeared in the grant’s face, and his big eyes roved about in search of his savior.

“Be careful!” Though the giant’s whisper seemed as loud as rushing wind, Galaeron did not worry about it being overheard. The spell he had cast would prevent that. “Where are you?”

Before Galaeron could answer, a beholder floated up between him and the giant. The thing was close enough to

 

kick, with several of the small eyestalks waving in the elf’s direction, but the creature did not seem to notice Galaeron’s invisible presence.

A cone of blue light shot from its huge central eye and began to sweep over the stone giant’s body. Galaeron raised his hands to cast the spell Melegaunt had taught him, but stopped when the giant continued to cling to the cliff and showed no more fear than previously. Clearly, neither the giant nor the eye tyrant were surprised to see each other, and Galaeron realized their foes knew Melegaunt better than the wizard thought

The beholder shifted its beam to the cliff and swept it back and forth at random. Keeping a careful watch on the creature’s many eyes, Galaeron floated around behind it. By all rights, he should have left instantly, for he knew better than to think he could escape any trap designed to capture Melegaunt. But it was too late. He had already seen the hope in the giant’s eyes.

The beholder finished its scan of the cliff face and spun around, flashing its beam back and forth through the cloud. Galaeron tucked in the other side of the giant’s torso.

Finally, the beholder gave up and turned to the grant. “What was that groan for?”

“1 slipped,” the giant said.

“You wouldn’t lie to poor Kanabar would you?” As the beholder spoke, one of its smaller eyes swung toward the giant. “Not when Kanabar told the others he had a use for you? You wouldn’t lie to Kanabar when he saved your life, would you?”

“No, 1 wouldn’t lie.”

The giant’s body tensed as he tried to resist the eye tyrant’s charm magic, and Galaeron began to worry. Vala’s beholder had slain one of his best scouts with nine eyes cloaked. What hope did he have against one able to use all eleven?

The giant spoke again, this time in a higher, almost

 

singsong voice. “Aris would never lie to his friend Kanabar.”

Galaeron pushed away from the cliff, then looked across the giant’s broad back in time to see a crooked smile come to the beholder’s toothy mouth.

“That’s right,” the beholder said. “So, why did Aris groan?”

The giant’s body trembled visibly “B-b-because his foot slipped.”

“And why did his foot slip?” asked the beholder. ‘Tell your friend Kanabar.”

As the eye tyrant said this, Galaeron flung a strand of shadow silk in its direction and spoke the incantation Melegaunt had taught him. The beholder’s eyes swung toward the sound of his voice, but the spell was a quick one, and in an instant, Kanabar was cloaked in a gummy mass of shadow.

“Hey!” Aris thundered. He turned his head and looked directly at Galaeron, who had turned visible the instant he attacked. “What’d you do to my friend, you stupid elf?”

“He’s not your friend,” Galaeron said, trying to figure out how he would rescue a becharmed giant. “I am.”

Galaeron started to reach for his sword, then had a better idea when he saw the beholder’s magic-destroying ray burn through the gummy shadow over its central eye. He rattled off a series of vaguely mystic syllables and tucked in behind the giant’s body Desperate to interrupt Galaeron’s spell, the beholder swung toward him and ran its blue beam across the giant’s back.

BOOK: The Summoning
8.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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