***
Azuth.
In the drifting darkness of a space that was not a plane, formed by the magics of all the enchantments of Candlekeep, the Lord of Spells glided like a bright serpent from one rune to another. They stood like sculptures in a void. He restored the fire of this one, and subtly reshaped that one, shifting its powers and meaning slightly to safeguard the fabric of Toril and to guide mages in slightly new directions, thus…
The voice in his blood, as he drifted as a thing of fire and risen magic, was so soft that it might have been an imagined thing.
High One, I have need of you. This time the mind-voice was dear and strong. Mystra, near at hand, sought him.
"Great Lady, I hear. How may I serve?"
The void suddenly blazed with silver fire. A blue-white glow rolled to the horizon like a wave seeking a far shore. Two eyes, as dark and star-shot as a warm summer night, regarded him from a spot within easy reach of his hand.
Azuth restrained his sudden desire to embrace the goddess and taste of her love; it was a feeling that washed over him at their every meeting, the call of her power to his.
"Great guide," she said softly, "our most mighty Chosen is fallen into Avernus, and Hell is risen against me. We must take him back. How?"
Startled, Azuth shaped himself into a tall, young mage with robes of shimmering white and eyes both large and dark. "You're sure-but of course." There was a flash as Mystra shared with him what had befallen her, her mind-touch with Elminster… and how feeble the mightiest of her Chosen had been. The Lord of Spells frowned.
"Well?"
Azuth winced. "Great Lady," he murmured, "with Hell roused, force is not the way. Stealth, too, is doomed for a time. If he survives, a small, swift rescue might succeed- but know, and forget not, that whomever we send, we shall be throwing away. Even those who escape Hell physically are often driven mad."
***
So your mystra has missed you and wants her little lapdog returned. Yet even goddesses find hell too warm in its welcome and flee empty-handed, she'll never have you now.
You're mine, little chained wizard.
Mine, while your sniveling ruin of a mind still Totters along, vainly trying to hide things from me. There's not much of you left to resist me, is there?
Let's see if we can uncover your memories of control over magic by seeing you teach novices, hmmm?
Glass burst into the room in a thousand sparkling shards. Sighing, Elminster put one hand over his teacup.
"Die, cursed mageling!" The mage in the window thrust her hands forward in claws, and lightning burst from her long fingers.
They snarled across the room amid the customary blinding flashes and spitting sparks, and struck something unseen a foot or so shy of the Old Mage's nose. He calmly watched them rebound and waved cheerily to the Red Wizardess as her own spell smashed into her and drove her-shrieking-back out of the room.
"Lhaeo," Elminster announced calmly, "the window. Again. An ambitious Thayan, as usual."
"I know," a sour voice floated in from the gardens outside. "My roses-why must they always land in my roses? Half an acre of lilies and wort to lie and smolder in, but oh, no, into my roses it is, enthusiastic plunge and all the thrashing…"
"It's thy turn for the casting," El reminded him sweetly. He stuck a thumb into his teacup to do some serious stirring.
"I don't have to do this, you know," Lhaeo muttered. "I could be earning a whole copper piece a month digging graves in Voonlar."
"Ye could be ruling a kingdom somewhere not so far away, lad," Elminster told the ceiling.
"Don't tempt me," Lhaeo grunted. "Glass everywhere, roses shredded and smoking, and several dozen young Sernbian ladies coming to tea! Couldn't you just slay me : now and get it over with?"
"And what would I be doing for fun tomoirow, eh? Ye princelings-always thinking only of thyselves, sparing not a thought for the welfare of feeble old wizards, worn out from saving the world for a few thousand years…."
"Oh, belt up! The only thing worse than a gushing gossip is a puffed-up wizard! You've already eaten half the sandwiches, and they're not even here yet!"
" Twas the least I could do, lad," Elminster replied in hurt tones, "after ye went to all that trouble, trimming off j the crusts."
Lhaeo's head rose into view through the glass-toothed window frame. "And that's another thing! Off you go to another of these 'other worlds,' and pick up another utterly crazed idea! Cutting my perfectly good egg-glazed crust off bread sliced so thin I can spit through it! What idiotic sort of folk do that? I-"
"Could spit through it, as a mere supposition, I hope," Elminster said reprovingly, one eyebrow lifting.
"Could and did," Lhaeo told him. "I had to try it, once I thought of it."
Elminster emitted a sort of incredulous "eep," and looked down at the neat piles of crustless sandwiches on the plates before him.
Lhaeo gave him a disgusted look. "You don't mess about much in kitchens, do you?"
At that moment a fat-bellied copper frog statuette on a nearby shelf opened one eye and its mouth, cleared its throat, and said in flat tones. — "Bong."
Lhaeo groaned. "They're here." He waved a hand wildly, murmured something-and all the glass in the room rose back into place in a smooth, glittering swirl.
Elminster raised a sardonic brow. "Getting a little show}' now, for the ladies?"
The window made a very rude sound in reply.
Elminster ignored it. Lifting two fingers in a swift little gesture, he said to the empty air. "Pray enter and be welcome, ladies fair. Let my humble home be a refuge to thee, however unworthy its accoutrements. As ye walk about my home, I bid ye remember only this: If ye don't touch it, it can't hurt ye. Tea is served in the room whose door is now glowing blue."
Blue mists roiled for a moment at the far end of the chamber. The door there swung wide.
Something large and lace-trimmed and seemingly triple-bosomed sailed in through the mists before Elminster could finish putting a kindly smile on his face. "Oh, so YOU are the GREAT Elmin-STAH! SUCH an honor, SUCH a rare joy to meet you! My friends back in Selgaunt will be SO jealous! A REAL live archWIZARD, sitting in his own parlor with all his books and funny hats and skulls and JARS of frogs and… oh, well, yes, it's SO exciting! ISN'T it, girls?"
There was an obedient chorus of "Yes, great lady" from the doorway, but Great Lady Calabrista wasn't waiting to hear it.
"I want you to know, sirrah, that we have come SUCH a long way just to see YOU, and that I've chosen only the FINEST of my young ladies! I'd not DREAM of wasting your time on anything but the BEST! Oh, yes, I think you'll be HIGHLY satisfied at the sort of young lady my little school produces-if I DO say so, myself! Girls? GIRLS! Dally not at the doorway, but come in, come in, so the GREAT Elminster can see you!"
The teacup in front of Elminster muttered, "Sounds like a slaver I once heard in Tharsult." The voice sounded suspiciously like a tiny, tinny replica of Lhaeo's.
Elminster smiled and said, "GREAT Lady Calabrista, ye must be SO hungry after such a LONG, ARDUOUS journey!"
The teacup sputtered, but Elminster ignored it. "PRAY enter in and sit in my BEST chair, and partake of these SUCCULENT sandwiches and a little light berry cordial…. Thy young ladies, too, I'm sure, would not take such fare amiss…."