Mel Odom - Forgotten Realms - Lost Empires 01 - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

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The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

Book 1 of Lost Empires series

A Forgotten Realms novel

by Mel Odom

A Proofpack release

Proofed and formatted by Bw-SciFi

Ebook version 1.0

Release Date: January, 2nd, 2005

"I've kept this library safe for hundreds of years. How can you think I'd shirk my duties now?"

Without preamble, an earthquake tremor shivered through the room. Baylee braced himself, amazed at

how the books didn't fall from the shelves.

A cloud of smoke erupted from the top of the desk, taking the shape of a huge, naked humanoid. The

smoke kept coiling and climbing. In less than a moment, the desk was gone, reshaped into a stone golem

that stepped ponderously toward Baylee.

The golem stood nine and a half feet tall and was as broad as any two men. The stone flesh marbled,

turning white under the ranger's lantern light. It opened its mouth in a soundless scream.

"In moments, this library will shift to the astral plane," the lich said. "There's nothing you can do to stop

it. And once we get there, you won't escape this labyrinth alive."

Lost Empires

Book One

The Lost Library

of Cormanthyr

Mel Odom

Dear Matt Lane Odom,

Thanks for being part of my life, and bringing with it the understanding of what being a first born son is like

from a different perspective. I appreciate your conversations and candor, and the thought you put into

things as you seek understanding. I'll always remember that night in Ada when you were pitching a

near-no-hitter. And thanks for lunch!

Love,

Dad

THE LOST LIBRARY OF CORMANTHYR

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely

coincidental.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America Any reproduction or

unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written

permission of TSR, Inc.

Distributed to the book trade in the United States by Random House, Inc. and in Canada by Random House

of Canada, Ltd.

Distributed to the hobby, toy, and comic trade in the United States and Canada by regional distributors.

Distributed worldwide by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. and regional distributors.

FORGOTTEN REALMS and the TSR logo are registered trademarks owned by TSR, Inc.

All TSR characters, character names, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are trademarks owned by TSR,

Inc.

TSR, Inc., a subsidiary of Wizards of the Coast, Inc.

Made in the U.S.A

Cover art by Alan Pollack

First Printing: March 1998

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 96-60823

987654321

ISBN: 0-7869-0735-5

8579XXX1501

U.S., CANADA, EUROPEAN HEADQUARTERS

ASIA, PACIFIC, & LATIN AMERICA Wizards of the Coast, Belgium

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Visit our web site at http://www.tsr.com/

Prologue

North of Mintarn in the Trackless Sea 600 Years Ago

"May Lloth take your soul into her evil embrace, woman, as penance for killing us all!"

Her beautiful elven face drenched by the torrents pouring from the unbridled sea around them, Gyynyth

Skyreach turned to face the speaker. Dark moonlight spearing through the black clouds overhead sparked

fire from her pale green eyes. "On the contrary, Captain Rinnah, I ordered us into the only chance we had.

If we'd tried to sail around the storm front, we'd have been caught by the pirates that pursue us."

The captain held on to the ship's rigging as his body swayed instinctively with the rolling pitch and yaw

of his vessel. "Putting a dagger blade across the throat of every person on this ship would have been a

cleaner death than the one you've ordained," Rinnah roared back at her over the crash of thunder and the

hor-rendous splash of twenty-foot waves falling across the ship's deck.

"You should be directing your crew," Skyreach yelled.

"Those men hardly need any direction going to their deaths as they are!" Rinnah staggered as the ship

wallowed between waves, tossed like a child's toy. Gallons of brine splashed across the deck, gathering into

a force that swept men from their feet, bro-ken only by the railing and the masts. A harsh, ragged yell

started up somewhere behind the captain, then echoed down the side of the ship before it ended abruptly.

Skyreach steeled herself, pushing away the fear that threat-ened to consume her. The devotion to the

quest she'd been given by her great-grandfather would see her clear. She wore her cop-per colored hair

tied up and was dressed in a warrior's leathers. The metal breast plate she'd ordered readied before the sea

drank down the sun hours ago banged against the side of the ship, held by the braided leather thong she'd

used to tie it into place.

Barely half the captain's size even though he was Tel'Quessir as well, she'd be washed over the side in

a heartbeat if one of the treacherous waves caught her in the open. One of her leather gloved hands was

twined in the ship's rigging. She held her long sword bared in the other, the runes etched dark in the metal.

She was not used to having her decisions questioned, much less chal-lenged. Her temperament would not

allow it, nor would the station her great-grandfather had bequeathed her.

"I was told you were a brave man, Captain Rinnan," she said in acidic accusation. The tips of her

pointed ears and parts of her face had gone numb from the cold that had descended with the storm over

Chalice of the Crowns. Yet, still her anger burned hot within her.

Men scattered in all directions around them. The ship's crew tried to handle the lines of rigging. The sails

had been dropped when the worst of the storm swept over them, but so many of the booms had broken

loose the ship itself had become a danger.

The warriors that she'd led sought to maintain their positions along the railing, staying ready for the battle

that she expected might yet come. Before the storm had arrived so quickly in all its gale and fury, one of

the trio of pirate ships that had pursued them from the Sword Coast for the last few days had been closing

in rapidly, finally cutting down on their lead.

"I am a brave man," Rinnah yelled. "But I have to admit, I am far, far too greedy. I should never have

taken on this fool's quest no matter how much gold was involved. If we had jettisoned the cargo as I

suggested—"

"That would never have been allowed," Skyreach promised.

The captain took advantage of a roll of the waves, managing a couple steps down the deck toward her.

"You purchase my ser-vices, woman, you don't own me," he said.

Skyreach lifted her long sword in an eye blink, her arm bringing the weapon into line as natural as

breathing. Her great-grandfather had seen to her tutelage himself, graced her with his motivations, and

turned her relentless in the pursuit of his goal. She knew she'd kill the captain for his impudence alone, not

even allowing the man the offense of laying his hands on her. But, perhaps, she still had need of his skill.

That was the only thing that stayed her hand.

The long sword's point stopped bare inches from the man's face. She froze the ship's captain into place

with the steel of her blade and the iron in her gaze. "Another step, Captain, and we'll both get a look at

whatever guts you profess to have."

Rinnah started to say something, but he was interrupted by a squall from one of his mates.

"Caaaaptaaain!"

Skyreach kept her weapon ready.

Rinnah swiveled his head around. Big and burly, his hair a twist of wet knots and his finery all undone by

hours spent in the inclement weather trying to find safe passage through the storm, he looked to be a

ferocious opponent. A brace of throwing knives went around his waist on a weathered belt made of lizard

skin. The scarred and worn handles of the knives showed much use and a certain... familiarity. He stared

up at the crow's nest.

Skyreach looked as well, her arm aching with the strain of hang-ing on to the rigging. She peered

through the sheets of needle-sharp rain whipped by the frenzy of the storm. She barely made out the

crewman's pointing arm.

Aft of Chalice of the Crowns, a ship with full sails burst through the storm's darkness and gained

rapidly. Its spinnaker was out before it, dancing wildly in the ripping winds. A trident of living lightning

seared across the bruised sky, running almost horizon-tally at what seemed only a hand's span above the

writhing black water. In the afterglow of the lightning, Skyreach spotted the flag snapping out from the main

mast. The skull and crossbones looked stark, white on a field of black.

"Pirates!" someone screamed.

The cry echoed along the deck of Chalice of the Crowns, picked up by sailors and the men Skyreach

led. She eyed her enemy grimly. She didn't know who had pursued them with such tenac-ity. The horde of

darkness that had gathered to tear Cormanthyr down had drawn forces from everywhere. She did not

know if the City of Songs still stood, and that uncertainty had weighed so heavily in her heart these days

that she had been gone from it.

Skyreach lifted her voice, bellowing above the swell of the waves and the thunder to the knot of men

along the rail. "Scaif!"

A tall elven warrior turned to face her. He wore simple leather, but Scaif had been one of the most

trusted men in her great-grand-father's courts. "Aye, milady."

"Get Verys to my side," Skyreach commanded.

"At once, milady." Scaif saluted, then tapped one of the warriors at his side on the shoulder. The warrior

took off immediately but was overtaken by a roil of dark seawater. Miraculously, the man grabbed the

railing around the central hold as he was washed across the deck, saving himself. He staggered to his feet

as Chal-ice of the Crowns twisted again, then seemed to drop into a bot-tomless pit.

"Captain Rinnah." Skyreach made her voice unforgiving, pulling much of her great-grandfather's wrath

into it.

The captain spun toward her.

When the ship bottomed out against the sea again, Skyreach thought for a moment that her legs weren't

going to be strong enough to hold her. The railing abraded her palm even inside the leather glove, promising

blisters on the morrow. She ignored the pain. She had never failed her great-grandfather while he was alive,

nor would she allow herself to fail Faimcir Glitterwing's memory. She pointed her long sword at the

approaching vessel and said, "Would you see your ship taken as a pirate's prize?"

The captain bared his teeth in a grimace of disgust. "Haven't you been listening to me, woman? We're

all dead. The men in that ship are only fooling themselves to even pretend to think other-wise."

"We're not dead until I say we're dead," Skyreach yelled back in a harsh voice. Lightning cascaded

across the dark heavens again, underscoring the terrible possibilities of her words. No one knew the

capability she had—or was prepared to use. "Now, do you cap-tain this ship, or do I give your first mate a

field promotion?"

Chalice of the Crowns bucked again, surging up the next swell of the Trackless Sea. Water crashed

onto the decks, spilling over the prow this time. Then she was clear again for the moment, plung-ing deep

into another valley of waves.

Rinnah cast a hate-filled glance in Skyreach's direction, then turned and stalked off. He bellowed orders

between his cupped hands, managing the water-slick deck with effort. In response to his orders, sailors

clambered the rigging like monkeys. Sails were run up and let down. Cloth filled the rigging in broad

expanses of sheet, eclipsing the dark sky. The fabric cracked in the irresolute grip of the storm winds.

Skyreach braced herself as the sails took hold. The ship surged into the wind. Before, Chalice of the

Crowns had been a piece of flotsam trying to wait out the fury of the storm until calm returned. With the

sails filled out, the vessel was a live thing fighting to free itself from the trap it was in, running mad as it was

driven before the storm.

Rinnah scrambled up the stairs leading to the helm. He took the large wheel himself. Almost

immediately, Skyreach could feel the difference the man's hand made upon the tiller. Chalice of the

Crowns came about slowly, fighting the sea as it cut through the waves and gained speed. Gradually, her

prow came around, putting the wind behind her sails. The ship suddenly dropped again as the sea slipped

out from beneath her.

A wave, fully as tall as any sea giant Skyreach had ever heard of in any tale, whipped across the deck.

The elven warrior lost her footing for a moment. Only her tight grip on the rigging kept her from being

swept overboard.

Her hand burning like she was holding live coals, Skyreach pulled herself back to her feet. Out across

the sea, the pirate ship drew even with them. White foam broke across the vessel's prow. Lightning split the

sky, igniting the metallic scale and cut glass encrusted visage of the Eye of the Deep that had been worked

into the prow. The beholder-kin lived only at great depths in the sea. The artist who had rendered the

reproduction had worked masterfully, making the obscene round body as large as a man, including the ten

eye-stalks, the great, staring, central eye above a slash filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Then the terrible sight was extinguished as the quick burst of illumination from the lightning disappeared.

Skyreach tightened the grip on her long sword. Squinting against the drumming rain that came as hard as

barbed darts, the elven warrior estimated the distance separating the two ships to be less than twenty

paces.

The pirate vessel closed, coming up alongside Chalice of the Crowns.

"Milady, I am here." Verys came to an uncertain stop at the railing beside Skyreach. Thin and nervous,

the old man looked bedraggled in his sopping clothes. Still, he carried his signal flags at his side.

"Is your group in place?" Skyreach asked.

"Yes, milady." Verys had marched as a boy with her great--grandfather, quickly rising to captain of one

of Faimcir Glitterwing's signal corps.

Skyreach didn't insult the man by looking around for his group. If Verys said they were there, then they

were there. She watched the pirate ship cutting through the crashing waves of the sea. The prow of the

other vessel cleared the water and hung for a moment, like it had suddenly taken wing from the gusting

winds. Then it slapped back down, almost burying the prow under the sea. Chalice of the Crowns behaved

in the same man-ner.

More men yelled in fear and anger. A man tumbled from the rigging above Skyreach. The sailor

slammed against the main deck with a sickening thud and remained still. His neck was at an unnatural

angle. The corpse stayed there only the space of a drawn breath, then the hungry waves came slavering

across the deck. When the foamy sea water recessed as Chalice of the Crowns crested the next wave,

the body had disappeared.

Skyreach murmured a quick prayer to Rillifane Rallathil, god of the wilderness that she found herself so

far from now. Corman-thyr had been the only home she'd ever known. Evermeet was only a place her

great-grandfather had bade her visit a few times, not home at all. And it lay days in her future. Provided

she had a future. She swallowed hard and remembered her great-grandfa-ther's words and the importance

of the duty she was doing.

"Ready the mages," she told the signalman.

"Yes, milady." Verys chose his flags, one scarlet and one white, then waved them in prescribed patterns.

"They are ready."

Peering across the roiling waves, Skyreach saw the humans lin-ing the side of the pirate ship. Lightning

flickered, burning reflec-tions from the burnished pieces of the crew's armor and their bared weapons. She

knew none of them, but she had no doubt that they knew her. Faimcir Glitterwing had acquired a number of

enemies over his long life span. Her great-grandfather's stand against allowing humans into Cormanthyr

despite Elminster's arguments that had swayed Coronal Eltargrim and the Elven Court had never wavered.

She didn't hate the humans. At least, she didn't hate all of them. There were many who'd been brave,

and had died defending Cor-manthyr against the Army of Darkness that had gathered to bring the city

down. But there'd also been many who'd tried to ransack the city and the homes of the inhabitants on their

way out of town. Some of those had died on her sword. What Chalice of the Crowns carried was only a

fraction of what remained to be taken out of the doomed city. It represented her great-grandfather's legacy.

She would not let it be taken.

The rustle and snap of fabric as well as the sudden movement to her right drew Skyreach's attention

forward to the prow. The ship's spinnaker shot into the air, catching the rush of air as it blossomed from its

storage area. The circle of cloth reached out like a giant fist and gripped the wind. Chalice of the Crowns

pulled free of the sea, suddenly more sprightly.

"We're outrunning them!" Verys crowed.

"Not for long," Skyreach said. Though the woods were her home of choice, her great-grandfather had

seen to her education even in boating. Sailcraft had been one of the old man's loves, an interest he'd carried

with him since childhood. If they'd lived nearer the ocean, had more business there, Skyreach had no doubt

that they would have owned a ship instead of her having to lease one for this voyage. "If the captain of that

vessel has come this far, through storm and all to pursue us, I think he has a trick or two up his sleeve as

well."

Captain Rinnah fought the wheel, his voice belaboring his men in hoarse shouts. They moved the sails,

making the most of the wind.

Skyreach moved toward the knot of her warriors. Naked steel gleamed in their hands, desperation

lighting dark fires in their hollowed faces.

"Milady," Scaif greeted. "The archers want to launch a few shafts at the enemy."

"Wait," Skyreach said. "The waves and the wind will only make their shafts too uncertain. Exposure to

this rain will loosen the strings in short order, then they'll be worthless. We'll have need of them later."

Scaif nodded. "As you wish."

Abruptly, the pirate vessel dropped back as Chalice of the Crowns jerked forward with renewed

speed. A ragged cheer started up among the ship's crew. Skyreach's men took up the cry, banging the flats

of their swords against the railing. The elven warrior didn't give in to the emotion of the moment. Even if

they managed to escape the pirates, the storm remained to threaten them.

She glanced forward, seeing Chalice of the Crowns's own spin-naker suddenly exploding forward as it

continued the seize the wind. The cloth hollowed and filled, becoming an alabaster full moon against the

dark sky.

Rinnah squalled orders to his men amid curses at them and promises to his god. In that moment, seeing

the man at the wheel, Skyreach knew he was right about her. She had led them to their doom.

She hardened her heart and her thinking. There had been no other choice, no other way. And the cargo

the ship carried was much too precious to let fall into the hands of humans. So much of Faimcir

Glitterwing's life's work was wrapped up in that cargo. Yet so little of it had they been able to carry. The

other journeys that would be required to claim the rest of her great-grandfather's legacy would require even

more cunning to complete. Only cer-tain knowledge that his legacy would be well guarded until her return

had given her the strength to leave it.

The humans deserved whatever hells they wrought for themselves. And if there was a way, Skyreach

would send Coronal Eltargrim there among them.

"Verys," she called.

"Aye, milady."

"Signal the warriors to assemble properly. I want them in dia-mond formation if we have to close with

the other ship." Skyreach scanned the other ship through the darkness, her eyes burning with the effort and

the blowing brine picked up in the gale.

Verys gave his signal.

Chalice of the Crowns bucked through the waves again, twisting before it came down into the water

again. The ship tilted sicken-ingly hard to port, and Skyreach was suddenly facing a wall of writhing water

that seemed about to suck her into it. Then the ship straightened itself again, cresting another wave.

A ragged cheer started along the ship's crew and Skyreach's own men. It was quickly extinguished

when they spotted the pirate vessel cutting through the brine less than ten paces off the starboard. lined up

along the port side of Chalice of the Crowns, Skyreach's men were out of place to defend the ship.

"Order them to the other side," Skyreach snapped.

Verys hurriedly did as she bade, his flags snapping code in short arcs.

Skyreach released her hold on the rigging and plunged across the deck. The wooden deck raged across

the wallows of the cruel sea, making footing treacherous. The slick scum left by the lap-ping brine

contributed to the danger.

Even as trained as they were, Skyreach saw a handful of her men go down in twisting heaps as they lost

their footing across the deck. The careful formations they'd arranged themselves into were suddenly

confused and broken.

The elven warrior stumbled across more than ran across the deck. She fell, caught herself on her hands,

and forced herself back to her feet. A curling wave caught her, rising almost to her knees, and the spitting

spume splashed across her, drenching her even more. She felt clothed in liquid, only the harsh bite of the

leather breaking that illusion. Verys struggled at her side. She reached out and helped the man to his feet.

"Thank you, milady."

Reaching the other side of the deck, Skyreach saw the grap-pling hooks launched from the pirate vessel

claw for Chalice of the Crowns.

"Cut the ropes!" she yelled. Lifting the long sword, she brought the keen edge down against a grappling

hook's trailing rope. The hemp was tightly wound, and it took two more blows to com-pletely sever it. The

grappling hook, a trident of curved metal, dropped at Skyreach's feet. She kicked it away, then it vanished in

a new coil of waves that slapped across the deck.

A long, feathered shaft embedded in the railing before her. The barbed head sank through the decorative

gingerbread of the rail-ing, stopping only inches from Skyreach's abdomen. More arrows from the pirate

ship suddenly thudded into Chalice of the Crowns. A jagged lightning bolt seared through the dark sky.

The illu-mination temporarily washed away the shadows clinging to the pirate ship. Humans were there, but

among their ranks Skyreach also noted dwarves and kobolds. She did not doubt that the crew knew exactly

what they were after. Faimcir Glitterwing's legacy would draw many hunters.

"Signal the archers," Skyreach ordered Verys.

The man flagged rapidly.

Skyreach moved along the railing as her men regrouped them-selves. The archers drew their bows and

strung them with diffi-culty.

A number of grappling hooks had found the side of the elven ship. Axemen from among Skyreach's

warriors brought their weapons thudding down against the ropes. But they were left open to counter-attack.

Arrows from the pirate ship cut down the number of axemen, as well as the other elven warriors.

The sea floor dropped away unexpectedly. Skyreach grabbed for the railing, maintaining her precarious

balance. Water rushed in over and through the railing, drenching her. Salt stung her eyes and she blinked

them clear.

The pirates gathered along the railing. Knots of men hauled on the grappling ropes, securing them

around spars. Sections of the railing splintered and pulled free, but others held. The pirate ship created a

staggering amount of drag on Chalice of the Crowns, but the other ship suffered as well. Much as it tried,

it couldn't hold against the elven cargo vessel's heavier weight. Skyreach had seen to it that the holds were

a full as they could be.

Chalice of the Crowns jerked like a fish at the end of a line as it fought with the water and tugged at

the grappling lines. Chunks of railing floated on the sea, riding out rolling waves. Those loose timbers

became dangerous weapons as well when the ocean shoved them back aboard the ship.

The elven warriors struggled to hold their formation, but the combined elements of the storm, sea, and

pirates kept them off balance. At home in the woods around Cormanthyr, their foes would never have stood

a chance.

"Signal the archers," Skyreach ordered, "to fire at will."

Verys complied.

Even over the rolling thunder of the storm and the protests of the lines and masts aboard Chalice of the

Crowns Skyreach heard the thrum of the elven longbows. The shafts pierced the flesh of their enemies at

once, breaking the spine of the first attack as men fell back and cursed their shield mates to stand forward.

Skyreach couldn't count the dozens of foes spread across the other ship's railing, but their sheer numbers

told her that she had been betrayed. Someone within her great-grandfather's courts had told the raiders

what the prize aboard Chalice of the Crowns was. Or someone had paid dearly for the ship's capture.

She didn't try to fathom who the traitor might have been. There were many in Faimcir Glitterwing's

House who felt she should not have received custodial responsibility for the wealth he had amassed. She

had even agreed. But it had been her great--grandfather's bequest, announced by the law-reader after his

death.

The problem was, there was no one she trusted more then her-self.

The archers fired freely, and the shafts vied with the falling rain to fill the air. Human, dwarf, and kobold

fell backward or over the side of the pitching railing as the arrows took them. But more men stepped

forward. In the next few heartbeats, more and more of the elven arrows shattered against the leather and

iron shields held up in defense.

Chalice of the Crowns squirmed at the end of the lines binding her to the pirate ship. Then the pirates

began to take up slack, hauling irresolutely on the ropes, gaining speed and strength in their endeavors with

each handhold of success.

"They're going to close with us, milady," Verys announced. His flags dripped water, but their bold colors

stood out in the storm's lightning bursts.

Skyreach knew it was true. She swung her long sword and hacked at another grappling line. "Signal the

mages."

Verys popped his flags at his team.

Almost immediately, Skyreach could feel the mystic forces that sparked around her. She was very

sensitive to any actions con-ducted through the Arts, even had some of the talent herself and had a modest

list of spells she could perform. Besides the sword, she'd been schooled in spellcraft as well, learning of it

even if not possessing the means.

She swung her sword once more and saw the reinforced rope's last remaining strands part. The

grappling hook spilled into the churning sea.

"Verys, signal the axemen to follow me," she said as she started forward toward the prow of the ship.

Nearly a dozen axemen trailed after her before she'd gone ten paces. They looked ques-tioningly at her as

she turned to face them.

"Free the prow," she ordered, pointing at the grappling hooks holding fast the ship's nose. "Free the prow

and maybe we can yank away from the pirates."

The axemen fell to at once, hacking with enthusiasm inspired by desperation.

Skyreach looked back at the cargo ship's bow. Captain Rinnah stood at the great wheel, his shoulders

hunkered against it to show the strain he was physically under while manhandling his vessel. "Verys, send a

runner back to the captain. Let him know we're trying to free the prow."

Verys signaled quickly.

Skyreach didn't check to see the effect. Gazing across the harsh spume of the sea trapped between the

two ships, she saw a group of pirates reacting to her own attempt to hack the forward grappling lines free.

Archers fell into position, covered by shield carriers. Arrows descended like carrion birds, ripping into the

unprotected flesh of the axemen.

One of the axemen went down at Skyreach's side, a cloth yard shaft through his neck. The elven

warrior didn't hesitate, sheath-ing her sword and taking up the double-headed axe from the man drowning in

his own blood. She stepped forward, dropping the weapon over her shoulder, then swinging it over her head

and down. The blade cleaved cleanly through the grappling line, thunking solidly into the wooden railing. She

ripped the axe free and moved toward the next grappling line. When she'd sheared it as well, only two

remained. They were both cut before she freed the axe again.

"Milady!"

Skyreach started to turn, but Verys collided into her, knocking her to the side. She reached for the man,

believing he had only lost his balance. Then she heard the meaty smack of flesh being struck. The barbed

point of an arrow sliced into the elven war-rior's shoulder.

But it came through her signalman to reach her. He'd sacri-ficed himself to save her.

"Verys!" Skyreach held the old man to her, knowing the arrow's barb offered her no real threat and only

a small discomfort. At the same time, it was taking Verys's life.

"Milady," the old man gasped, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, "it was the least I could do.

Your great-grandfather was my fr—" His eyes rolled up into his head as his body relaxed.

Two other arrows sank deep into the old man's corpse before Skyreach could take them to safety.

Reluctantly, she laid Verys beside the railing. Water sluiced around him. She forced herself to her feet and

looked back into the bow. "Rinnah!" she screamed, though she knew it was futile. The captain would never

hear her over the thunder of the storm, the yelling of the men, and the sound of the dying.

Still, across the distance, the captain's eyes met hers, his gaze dark and seething despite the frenzy of

cold rain between them. Rinnah bawled orders to his crew. The lines of sail changed. The big man hauled

hard on the wheel, controlling the tiller.

Chalice of the Crowns came about slowly, fighting time and tide and ties to the pirate ship, thrashing

amid the crashing waves. With the grappling hooks on her prow cut asunder, though, she began to turn

away from her tormentor.

Skyreach fisted her sword, letting go the axe. It was too late to cut any more. The pirates were closing

even more quickly than before. Their only hope lay in the other grappling hooks not being strong enough to

hold the elven cargo freighter.

Chalice of the Crowns's spinnaker had emptied when she found herself crossways in the wind. Under

Rinnan's skillful hand, the ship came about to port. In the next gale, the spinnaker filled once more, cracking

loud enough to be heard over the storm.

A renewed cheer came from the throats of her men and the cargo ship's crew.

Glancing back, Skyreach saw sections of the railing come loose and drop into the sea. Scaif tossed her a

salute, his proud face creased in a smile despite the blood streaming down from his forehead. His axemen

had been busy as well, chopping away the supports that held the railing.

For a moment, Skyreach made herself believe they would make it if the storm did not take them.

Then her sensitivity to magic spells tingled again, becoming an almost painful itch. The smell of ozone

pervaded the air. A sudden crash dimmed the noise of the thunder. Fire clouds suddenly wreathed the elven

ship's sails. Timbers split from the horrendous impacts of the spell that reduced the ship's rigging to char.

The impact knocked Skyreach from her feet.

The elven warrior scrambled at once, her hands struggling to find a grip anywhere on the slick timbers

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TheLostLibraryofCormanthyrBook1ofLostEmpiresseriesAForgottenRealmsnovelbyMelOdomAProofpackreleaseProofedandformattedbyBw-SciFiEbookversion1.0ReleaseDate:January,2nd,2005"I'vekeptthislibrarysafeforhundredsofyears.HowcanyouthinkI'dshirkmydutiesnow?"Withoutpreamble,anearthquaketremorshiveredthroughther...

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Mel Odom - Forgotten Realms - Lost Empires 01 - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

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