Shandril looked around the cavern in awe. It was vast, and dark, and littered with rubble. Elminster saw her eyes moving about, and said, “An accident, long ago. Be ye ready, little one?”
“Aye,” Shandril answered dryly. “What now?”
Elminster looked grave. “A few more tests. Things better learned before thy life depends upon it.” He walked a few paces away from her. “My art shields this chamber against prying magic,” he added. “First-hold thy hand up, like so… now the other/’
Shandril looked at him, a little afraid. “Do you want me to turn my spellfire upon myself?”
Elminster nodded slowly. “We must know,” he said, “but mind ye do it very gently. Stop at once if it affects thee.”
Shandril nodded in her turn, and bent her will to the task. The thought of burning herself made her feel sick. She set her teeth, looked up at the mage, and then stared at the hand which would receive the flames. Spellfire blossomed from her other hand, and writhed out in a small, delicate tongue to lick at her unprotected hand.
No pain, but a tingling in her limbs that built in intensity as she continued to envelop her hand in flames. She withdrew it from the raging, blistering heat, found it unmarked, and plunged it in once more. The flames roared; her uncontrollable shuddering grew.
Abruptly she felt something grasp her hand and draw it from the flames. Another hand took its place, and almost immediately she heard Elminster grunt, “Urrrgh,” and draw away. He touched her shoulder, and then, slowly and deliberately, her bare cheek. No flame erupted from that contact. He patted her on the shoulder. “Enough.”
The flames died. Elminster stood facing her, working the fingers of one blackened hand with a frown of mingled interest and pain. “Well, then. It does not burn thee, but the force may harm thine innards, circling back in. It does burn another, regardless of defences of art. When ye are not so full of energy that it burns in thine eyes, it harms only where ye intend it, and not at any touch. Narm will last longer than I had feared.”
Shandril giggled at his tone. “You will want to watch the two of us, then, to further your investigations?”
Elminster looked up past his brows at her disapprovingly, as he waggled his fingers. “It may not surprise ye to learn,” he said gravely, “that in over five hundred-odd winters, I have seen such things a time or two before.” He grinned. “I’d have seen far more, too, if I’d had the courage to keep my eyes open at a younger age than I did.”
He turned, in a swirl of robes. “But enough of such unsuitable topics for an old man to be discussing with a young lady when they are alone in the dark. Turn thy spellfire here, upon this wall-nowhere else, mind; this cavern may not be entirely stable! Let us see what befalls.”
Again Shandril set her will, and spellfire flamed out from her hand. It struck the wall with a hollow roaring and burst in all directions, sparks and tendrils of flame leaping among the rocks. The cavern wall held, despite Shandril’s fierce efforts to hurl all the heat and flame she could at it. When Elminster patted her on the shoulder again to desist, the cavern wall was red-hot and sooty black.
“How does it feel to hold such power in thine hands?” Elminster asked softly.
“Eerie, indeed” Shandril answered truthfully. “Exciting and fearsome. I-I never seem to be able to relax anymore.”
“Could ye at the inn?”
“Well, yes. Short moments by myself, now and then. But it’s not just the adventure… nor the spellfire…”
“It’s Narm,” Elminster said dryly. “Would ye try something else for me?”
“Yes… what is your will?”
“See if ye can hurl spellfire from thy knee, or forehead, or foot, or behind… or your eyes, again. See if ye can hurl it in a spray, or curve the flames around sharp bends, or hurl small balls or streamers of flame. Knowing the accuracy of thy aim would also be useful.”
“How long do you-never mind. How shall we proceed?” Shandril mopped her sweating forehead with one hand; her fire had made it hot in the cave. Elminster held out his pipe wordlessly. She pointed one finger and pushed, just a little, with her will, and a tiny spurt of flame shot out. The mage sucked on the pipe and turned its bowl adroitly all at once to catch the flame, puffed contentedly, then nodded to her.
“Aye… we’ll start so…”
It was quiet in the hall that night, despite the gathered band of knights. They sat at the trestle table that stretched at least thirty paces down the center of the room. It was warm and smoky, and the remains of a good feast were still upon the table. The guards who usually lined the walls and the servants always scurrying between table and kitchen were absent, barred from the chamber by Mourngrym.
Mourngrym and Shaerl sat at the head of the table. At the foot sat Elminster. Down one side of the long board, from the head, sat Storm Silverhand, Shandril, and Narm. The knights lined the other side. All other places were empty.
Jhessail was on her feet, addressing the assembled company. “My lords and ladies,” she concluded, “Narm Tamaraith has advanced his art considerably since first he came among us. He lacked not aptitude or dedication, but merely suffered from poor and insufficient prior training.” She smiled, and to Narm’s intense surprise continued, “He was a joy to train. Illistyl and I have no hesitation in presenting Narm before this company as an accomplished conjurer. It is my understanding that Elminster wishes to examine and train Narm yet, to further him for the special task of art required in supporting the unique power of his betrothed. I yield to my master.”
Elminster rose, even as she sat smoothly, and said, “Aye. I will talk to Narm of that before long. But I am here tonight in answer to Mourngrym’s request”-His subtle emphasis on the last word brought a smile to the edges of the Lord of Shadowdale’s mouth. “I will report to ye on what I have learned of the powers of Shandril Shessair, specifically that unique ability we call ‘spellfire.’ The power to wield spellfire has been known in the Realms in the past-”
“It is my duty this time, I fear?’ Florin interrupted, standing with a polite bow to Mourngrym and to the old sage. “Elminster-the short version, please. No disrespect intended, but we have not your interest nor patience.”
Elminster eyed him sourly. “Patience seems in short supply these days. It is a lamentable state of affairs when things happen at such a pace that folk can scarce talk things over and grumble before the face of the land is changed again. Woeful days, indeed-” Here he forestalled several knights who had opened their mouths to speak. “But I digress. To the matter directly at hand: the Lady Shandril, betrothed to Lord Narm Tamaraith, both of whom sit among us.
“Shandril can now, without the presence of the balhiir that apparently began her use of spellfire, draw in spell energy without much personal harm-although some harm appears to be involved with some magic-and store it, for an unknown length of time and without apparent ill effects. She can subsequently send it forth, upon command and with some precise control, as a fire that burns despite most magical defenses, and affects all things and beings I have been able to observe it against thus far.
“Shandril has a finite capacity for such absorbed spell energy, but we are presently not entirely certain what it is. We know neither the precise effects of the spellfire upon Shandril, nor the limitations of the spellfire she wields.
“I can tell you what spellfire is: the raw energy that all workings of art are really composed of, broken down by Shandril’s body in some unknown manner from a given magical effect-of spell or item-into the force necessary to create and enact such an effect.
“As The Simbul, distinguished ruler of Aglarond, pointed out at the testing, such a power is dangerous-dangerous to Shandril personally, and to those nearby. When Shandril’s body holds so much energy that her eyes flash spellfire, her very touch can harm those around her with an unintentional discharge. She is also a threat to those who work magic everywhere in this world. Those who see this last threat will act to destroy Shandril, or to possess her to use her power against others.