Blackstaff Read Online Free PDF

floating square blue-wax candle burning from each corner, and a clockwork cat whose buff rag tongue lent a shine to its mechanical paw as it cleaned itself with only the mildest of ticking sounds. She turned to her other side and started scanning those niches for objects she had never seen before, spotting a miniature throne with a small wax figure seated on it, a round book with a ring binding and solid silver covers, its runes identifying it as
The Annals Adamarus
, and a goblet made of glacial ice and set with rubies, its contents steaming hot.
    “Choose one, Tsarra.”
    Tsarra started, and shook her head in frustration. Despite her better-than-average hearing, the half-elf had not heard the mage come down the stairs behind her. Hestepped from the gloom of the upper stairs, reminding Tsarra why so many feared her master. He stood only a bit more than six feet in height, and his build was strong, but hardly threatening. His robes proclaimed him a wizard, and he carried his trademark staff of blackened wood at his side. His hair fell just past his shoulders, its jet blackness interrupted only by a silver-white wedge on the chin of his full beard. While normal and fully human in many ways, the Blackstaff cultivated an aura of power and mystery. There were very few he couldn’t intimidate with a simple stare. For the moment, that stare was leveled at her.
    He said, “I haven’t got all—what is it, love?”
    The look on his face changed instantly, and his eyes focused on something past her. Tsarra smiled as she tried to ignore Khelben’s conversation with what appeared to be the wall. The Blackstaff and his wife Laeral shared a bond and could hear each other’s words when they spoke the other’s name. Khelben seemed distracted, but his voice never rose above a whisper.
    Tsarra returned her attentions to the niches and their magical items. As the items before her shimmered away and others materialized in their places, she spotted a fascinating object—a golden belt of chain mail loops made of either gold or some amalgam. Ornate golden scales shaped like swords, shields, and oak leaves covered the surface of the belt. Set atop the shield scales, small, sea-green, opaque gems glittered, sixteen in all. The buckle was breathtaking in its workmanship—it was an ice eagle’s head in profile, a larger sea-green gem as its eye. Tsarra had never been a great student of magic items, but the belt absorbed her attention. She reached for it, whispering the command word to release it … and failed.
    As a senior apprentice, Tsarra was privy to many of the command words to access certain places and things within Blackstaff Tower, so she said the command again, louder, only to have a force field remain around the belt and niche.
    She sighed loudly and said, “Sorry to interrupt you, LordArunsun, but I cannot get the niche to release its burden to me for this test.”
    Khelben did not even turn toward her as he began vaulting the steps.
    “Adkarlom.”
The niches all briefly flashed and Tsarra’s hand closed around the cold metal belt. Khelben dashed upstairs and spoke as he spun from sight. “Wait for me in the lower library. I’ll be there … soon.”
    Tsarra was stunned. In sixteen years at the tower, she had never seen Khelben run for any reason. While she’d heard the rare snort or chuckle, she’d also never heard Khelben laugh, which he seemed to be doing from up the stairs.
    “Something weird is going on, Danthra,” Tsarra said as she entered the library. “Did you hear that? Khelben laughing!”
    Danthra blanched, her porcelain skin paling even more than normal. Tsarra placed the belt on the table, and put her arm around her friend in support. Danthra hugged her fiercely, almost squeezing the air from her. After a few moments, she relaxed, and Tsarra held her shoulders as she asked, “Gods … What’s the matter, Dreamer? You can’t be
that
nervous about this spell.”
    “It’s not that … it’s that