"I love this," Vangerdahast said softly. "I could watch it for hours. Think you it shows us Evermeet?"
Laspeera shrugged, and daintily cut herself a rondelle of nutcheese. "Who can say?" She gave him an impish look. "Unless, of course, you craft a spell that'll let you step into it, and go see for yourself."
Vangerdahast made a rude sound. "Things have been quiet lately, but not that quiet." He sighed. "I take it the likelihood of any more powerful magic or mages being uncovered in the realm is decidedly slim now?"
Laspeera raised her shapely shoulders in another elegant shrug. "The noble houses, of course, have any number of magical toys hidden away that they don't want anyone to know about. Some of them were clever enough to reveal a few to me in hopes that I'd not think they had others. I can say that powerful spell-wielders found in Cormyr in the years to come will either develop under our noses-or come in from outside. . and I trust our vigilance is such that only a handful of the mightiest archmages are good enough to do that and remain undetected for long."
"Sarmyn did say he had Storm Silverhand on his hands up in Firefall Vale a few days back," Vangerdahast said idly.
Laspeera showed him the impish grin that wizards who were not her master or her husband were never allowed to see. "And did he enjoy it?"
"He hasn't yet said."
"Then he's not enjoying it," Laspeera concluded, watching a pair of stags leap frantically across the tapestry. A few moments later the expected hunt appeared in the distance, waving lances that glimmered from butt to tip with lazy runs of lightning. The wizards watched it rush pass, and raised their glasses to their lips in unison.
Lightning crackled hungrily around her, but Storm ignored it. Bolts and chain lightning were among the things she was immune to, by Mystra's grace; she kept her attention on the falling things dislodged by the laughing, glowing-eyed foe flitting above her. So far, nothing had crashed down on her head, but he was still trying.
A bolt veered away from her, toward the distant, startled face of Broglan Sarmyn.
"No!" Storm exclaimed in angry surprise. She raised her hand to slash the bolt with silver fire-but Shayna Summerstar rose up behind the mage, a chair-leg in her hand, and brought it viciously down.
The wizard fell out of sight. The young heiress capered in triumph; the bolt that might have struck her veered away of its own accord.
Sick at heart, Storm turned her attention back to the tentacled foe. "You'll pay for this. I swear it."
Their eyes met. The foe laughed maniacally before ducking out of sight onto the floor above. Storm sent a jet of silver fire into the ceiling above her-and as it punched through the stone, she was rewarded with his startled cry of rage and pain.
Furiously, the foe struck back, hurling the pieces of a shattered statue down at her.
Neither of them noticed a dust-covered figure rise from the rubble on the floor below Storm, and lurch toward the nearest ascending stair. The Hungry Man had forgotten some of its orders, but it knew to receive more, it had to be where strong magic raged.
Some overclever Sembians were stirring up trouble in Marsember again. The war wizard briefings and strategy sessions had been long and wearisome. As they walked together to the doors of Lionsrest Hall, Laspeera saw Vangerdahast put a hand to his mouth to conceal a yawn.
"Come in," she said gently, an offer that made his head turn quickly in surprise. "Aundable will be pleased to see you."
"He will? Having to kiss his wife in front of the royal magician of all the realm, and pretend the old gruff-nose isn't there? Strange man," Vangerdahast commented.
Laspeera wrinkled her nose, took him firmly by the elbow, and steered him into the parlor she shared with her husband, Aundable Inthre.
The seldom-seen subject of so much speculation among the magelings Laspeera tutored was bent over a tiny model of the fortress of High Horn. He frowned and glanced up at an image that hung in the air above it-a floating magical view of the castle. As they watched, he gestured with a fingertip, and one hillock shifted its position along the mountainside a trifle. Laspeera's husband nodded in apparent satisfaction, looked up, and broke into a broad smile.
Laspeera swept around the table and into her husband's arms.
"Lord Vangerdahast! A pleasure! What can I do to set you at ease?"
"Stop calling me 'Lord Vangerdahast' and try 'Vangey,' for a start," the old mage growled.
Aundable indicated that he'd heard Vangey's request by a wink, and was then rather busy with an affectionate, wordless greeting for the next four breaths or so. Vangerdahast hid a smile by taking up a decanter of amberfire wine and strolling over to glance at the miniature castle Aundable had crafted, on his way to the glasses.
"Ah, yes-please, make yourself at home," Aundable said when he could speak again. "Like it?"
"I do indeed," Vangerdahast admitted, peering at the tiny windows and doors, and extending a cautious finger. Did they actually open? Say, th-
"If you'll excuse me," Aundable said, "I was just going to do my usual scry of the border lands, and then retire to bed."
Vangerdahast gave him a grave nod, and said, "And you shall not do so alone; I won't keep Laspeera more than a few breaths before wandering off in search of my own bed. Soon enough I'll be wandering the kingdom again, and sleeping out on wet, rocky ground under the stars. Aye, lass?"
Laspeera sighed. "Only you, in this entire palace, could get away with calling me 'lass'!"
"Oh, lass?" Aundable teased. "What's that you say?"
She reached out and playfully tweaked his nose.
"Urrgh!" he replied, intelligently and happily. He sat down at his scrying crystal. Few in the kingdom knew that a peerless master of strategy and foresight lurked in this back room of the palace, keeping watch over the realm-but Vangerdahast, for one, was glad he did.
Aundable waved away a proffered glass of amberfire wine, glanced at a map of eastern Cormyr, and ran a finger along the trails north and east of the Wyvernwater. There was the hold of Hawkhar, seat of House Indesm; Galdyn's Gorge, home of the Yellanders; and Firefall Vale, home to the Summerstars….
The face of Shayna Summerstar swam into his mind. Aundable frowned and glanced at his wife. If he'd been one for the shining younglings, he could do worse, far worse, than the beautiful Shayna Summerstar.
His frown deepened as he bent his will to use that vividly remembered face as a focal point to target his scrying attempt. Wasn't Firefall where the Sevensash band had been sent, to see to some sort of minor trouble? Aundable leaned forward, peering into the depths of his scrying crystal, where small lights swam and wandered….
It had been a long day. The sun set on Firefall Vale, and the shadows inside the riven keep grew truly dark. Storm wearily clenched her teeth and, with desperate speed, wove a web of silver fire, seeking to enclose the foe once more. Her barrier around the keep had gone long ago, sacrificed to save her own skin from the shapeshifter's vicious attacks.
Now he was teasing her, flying out from the battlements again and again, forcing her to snare him and drag him back. Each time she brought him back, he lashed her with spells that darted into her mind and sought to steal secrets and pry loose lore. This defense was grueling work. Storm was sweating and exhausted as she snared him for the fourteenth time.
This time he laughed and flew right at her, extending a finger that glittered.
Storm's heart sank. She knew what spell he must be using. Somewhere in the keep, there was an enchanted sword; if his extended digit struck her, the powers of that blade would injure her as if he wielded it directly.
"Bastard," she whispered, spinning three tongues of silver fire-two to fend off any tentacles he might decide to grow when he got close enough.