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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 137 из 216Where else could such magic be studied and counteracted but in Halruaa? If the artifacts are what you think they are, their reappearance in the hands of the Moonshae queen's rivals, their magic depleted, might prove a rallying point to mount a serious challenge to the throne."
"Therein lies the problem. Halruaa can have no part in such games. Our magic is too widely feared. If the ruse were discovered, it wouldn't matter to the world if the Halruaan wizard who altered the artifacts knew nothing of their intended use. The Moonshae Islands have powerful allies. Most certainly there would be harsh reprisals."
Procopio nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Matteo with genuine regret. "You have counseled me well. I will seek a private audience with Zalathorm, and we will get to the heart of this. You, however, must present yourself to the queen's court."
He gave Matteo a small parchment card etched with sapphire ink. "Give this to the seneschal. He will endeavor to get you an introduction."
The wizard hesitated, then clapped Matteo on the shoulder. "May Mystra smile upon you."
Matteo heard the dismissal in the words and nodded his response. With a sigh, he turned toward the corridor that separated Zalathorm from his queen.
As he walked, the sound of music and conversation faded slowly away. The tap of his footsteps echoed along the marble floor, and the corridor became increasingly chill. Paradoxically, bursts of steam jetted out into the hall at intervals of increasing frequency.
He carefully came closer to investigate. A sudden, sharp hiss drew his gaze to his left, and immediate he reached for his daggers. Crouched in an alcove, looking like a giant, ice-white cat ready to spring, was a white dragon.
The beast was still a juvenile, judging from its size, but deadly just the same. The dragon's maw was wide and curved upward in a wicked smile, parted slightly to reveal rows of lethal ivory fangs. Two horns curled back off the beast's forehead, and a third, shorter one in the center jutted forward, swirled like a long, slender seashell. It looked very like a unicorn's horn, but for the barbed tip and the taint of long-dried blood. The dragon's talons were equally stained, and each was nearly as long as Matteo's hand. Its ice blue eyes regarded Matteo steadily and glittered like malevolent jewels.
A moment passed before Matteo realized his mistake. In his surprise, he looked directly into the dragon's eyes. And in looking, he felt nothing-none of the fear that turned bones to water and made strong men forget their resolve. This had nothing to do with his resistance to magic, but with the dragon itself. It was no true beast, but an elaborate clockwork device.
"Therein lies the problem. Halruaa can have no part in such games. Our magic is too widely feared. If the ruse were discovered, it wouldn't matter to the world if the Halruaan wizard who altered the artifacts knew nothing of their intended use. The Moonshae Islands have powerful allies. Most certainly there would be harsh reprisals."
Procopio nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Matteo with genuine regret. "You have counseled me well. I will seek a private audience with Zalathorm, and we will get to the heart of this. You, however, must present yourself to the queen's court."
He gave Matteo a small parchment card etched with sapphire ink. "Give this to the seneschal. He will endeavor to get you an introduction."
The wizard hesitated, then clapped Matteo on the shoulder. "May Mystra smile upon you."
Matteo heard the dismissal in the words and nodded his response. With a sigh, he turned toward the corridor that separated Zalathorm from his queen.
As he walked, the sound of music and conversation faded slowly away. The tap of his footsteps echoed along the marble floor, and the corridor became increasingly chill. Paradoxically, bursts of steam jetted out into the hall at intervals of increasing frequency.
He carefully came closer to investigate. A sudden, sharp hiss drew his gaze to his left, and immediate he reached for his daggers. Crouched in an alcove, looking like a giant, ice-white cat ready to spring, was a white dragon.
The beast was still a juvenile, judging from its size, but deadly just the same. The dragon's maw was wide and curved upward in a wicked smile, parted slightly to reveal rows of lethal ivory fangs. Two horns curled back off the beast's forehead, and a third, shorter one in the center jutted forward, swirled like a long, slender seashell. It looked very like a unicorn's horn, but for the barbed tip and the taint of long-dried blood. The dragon's talons were equally stained, and each was nearly as long as Matteo's hand. Its ice blue eyes regarded Matteo steadily and glittered like malevolent jewels.
A moment passed before Matteo realized his mistake. In his surprise, he looked directly into the dragon's eyes. And in looking, he felt nothing-none of the fear that turned bones to water and made strong men forget their resolve. This had nothing to do with his resistance to magic, but with the dragon itself. It was no true beast, but an elaborate clockwork device.