Wyn and Morgalla rode side by side, as was becoming their custom. It was clear to Danilo that the dwarf had found in Wyn the musical mentor she craved, but, as much as he hated to disturb their camaraderie, he needed time to convince Wyn to share elfsong magic. So soon after his conversation with Vartain, broaching this subject made Danilo feel as if he were a juggler trying to keep a few too many balls in the air.
“Ride with me a while,” he requested of the elf. Morgalla took the hint and reined her stout pony over to Balindar’s side. The mercenary looked a bit sheepish when the dwarf approached, but she made some comment that got him laughing and seemed to ease his conscience.
Danilo reached into the magic bag at his belt and withdrew the spellbook Khelben had prepared for him. “This is the spell I used on Grimnosh. Be careful not to look at the runes—that can be dangerous to the untrained. It’s a charm spell, very like the one you cast in the marshlands. It suggests that wizard magic and elven spellsong are compatible.”
“After what occurred in the High Forest, I cannot deny that,” the elf said with obvious reluctance. “Morgalla told me all that happened. She sang me the melody you used, and it is identical to a powerful elven charm spell. This is what you were trying to tell me last night an elven spellsong had been written in arcane notation.”
“Actually, no. I had no idea it was an elfsong spell. I’d never seen anything like this, and I had no idea what it was or even, for that matter, whether it would work. Khelben gave me this spellbook, but I’ve never heard him cast such magic.” Danilo paused, and his brow furrowed. “Come to think of it, I can see why. Uncle Khelben has a voice reminiscent of an amorous cat on an alley fence.
“But I’m wandering from the point,” he continued, giving himself a little shake. “As the good archmage often admonishes me, I ought not to let my mind wander, as it’s too small to go off by itself.”
“You were saying?” Wyn prodded politely.
“Indeed I was. The point is, I’m not an elf, yet I was able to cast magic through music. Consider the possibilities!” Danilo waited for the elf to reply, but Wyn kept his eyes on the path ahead. “Don’t you see what this could mean for the Harpers? After the Time of Trouble passed and the gods returned to their own planes, magic was changed in many important ways. Bardic magic was stolen from humans. If some bards could learn the magic of elfsong, think what we could become!”
“I have considered that”
“And?”
The elven minstrel rode in silence for several moments before he turned to the Harper. “Please listen to my explanation before you pass judgment. Keep in mind that I mean no offense, and that my hesitation does not reflect upon you personally.”
“I think I’ve heard this speech before, from at least a dozen Waterdhavian maidens,” Danilo said warily.
Wyn’s answering smile was faint “Elfsong, as you have so aptly named the spellsong magic, is a power that when learned is easily accessed. But consider this: power is more easily acquired than wisdom. The elven people live for many human lifetimes, and this gives us a different perspective and a patience that humans tend to lack. We are guided by rich and ancient traditions, and we are prone to consider many solutions before resorting to the use of magic. If humans could resolve their difficulties by the singing of a song, the temptation to abuse—or at least overuse—this power would surely be too great to bear.”
“That argument can be made for any kind of magic,” Danilo countered. “Yet many humans wield magic with honor.”
“And there are many who do not. At least with wizard magic, one must take the time to study and memorize a spell before each casting. That guarantees time for deliberation and reflection, and surely keeps many mages from acting in haste. Elfsong lacks any such safeguard; once a spellsong is learned, it can be cast at will.” Wyn shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have spent many years among human musicians, and there are none I would entrust with such a power. Your ways and elven ways are simply too different.”
“I have the next two stanzas!” announced Vartain.
The riddlemaster’s words forestalled the protest Danilo had ready. “Can we discuss this at a later time?” he asked the elf.
“It would do no good,” Wyn said with quiet finality.
Although he was deeply disappointed, Danilo saw no option but to accept the elf’s decision. He inclined his head in a small, formal bow and rode to Vartain’s side.
“You were correct,” the riddlemaster said, and his voice was less patronizing than usual. “The third and fourth sites were also barding colleges. The riddles name Doss in Berdusk, and Canaith, located near Zazesspur in the land of Tethyr.”
“I have recently come from Tethyr,” Danilo said thoughtfully, remembering the ballad that had driven him north. He’d tried to put that night from his mind, but he quickly reviewed the event now in search of something that might yield a clue. He wished he had asked Arilyn for more details about the bard who had spread this ballad. Perhaps such information would help them now.
“What powers did the caster gain?” Danilo asked, returning to the matter at hand.
“In Berdusk, the ability to call up or control monsters who use music as a weapon. That would perhaps explain the frog pipers we met in the marshlands near the High Forest It is interesting to note that there has recently been a marked increase of monster attacks on travelers and farmers to the south of Waterdeep. In many cases, the victims were slain before they could raise weapons in their own defense. These incidents seem to fall along a path between Berdusk and Waterdeep.” The riddlemaster paused and considered. “For that matter, the failure of crops around Waterdeep has been profound this year, and unmatched elsewhere in the Northlands but for that one area in the Moonshaes.”
“Marvelous,” Danilo muttered. “And what happened at Canaith?”
“The caster regained the power to influence crowds through song. Once a common type of bardic magic, it fell dormant during the Time of Trouble.”
Danilo fell silent, moving the pieces of this puzzle around in his mind and trying to fit them into a pattern. After a moment he abandoned the exercise. “What’s going to happen in Sundabar? The old college Anstruth was there.”
“I’ve haven’t gotten that far.”
The Harper scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It is possible that the sorcerer hasn’t, either. Our foe can obviously travel fast, but we might yet precede him.”
Danilo kicked his horse into a trot and rode to the front of the group. The moon elf was riding point guard, as usual, and his silvery hair gleamed in the bright morning light “You’ll have to live without me for a short time,” the Harper announced. “I’m leaving for Sundabar at once. Upon my honor, I will return at daybreak.”
“Upon the dwarf’s life, I believe you,” Elaith said pointedly, then he smiled at the Harper. “I shall strive to withhold my tears during your absence. What benevolent god should I thank for this turn of events?”
“Khelben Arunsun, but don’t refer to him as such. As deities go, he isn’t much for ceremony. Now, all jesting aside. The archmage gave me a ring of teleportation that can transport up to three persons to a site of my choice. I’m going to Sundabar, for there may be a chance of catching up with our spellcaster there.”
“Then let us be off at once,” Elaith said.
“Us? As in, you and me?”
“Of course.” The elf smiled pleasantly and produced a plain silver ring from a pouch at his belt “Your magic ring, I believe.”
Danilo’s jaw dropped. He glanced down at his hands. Sure enough, one of his rings was missing. “How?”