The Dream Spheres by Elaine Cunningham Read Free Book Online Page A

completely turned around in the maze of rooms and halls.
    “Wouldn’t Bran be proud?” she muttered, naming the famous human ranger who had sired her. Once Danilo got wind of this misadventure, she would never hear the end of it. Determined to keep her embarrassment to herself, she kept going, merely nodding to the occasional servant or guest she passed.
    Her mood darkened with each false turn. Finally she gave in to the inevitable, and decided to ask directions from the next person she encountered.
    She heard the sounds of conversation coming from a room at the end of the hall and set off toward it at a brisk pace, silent as a shadow in her borrowed elven boots. She slowed as she neared the door, and listened to the conversation with a mind toward finding an acceptable place to interrupt.
    “It is my considered opinion that there is already far too much magic in Waterdeep.”
    This statement, emphatically spoken by a familiar, faintly accented male voice, halted Arilyn in midstride. It was not the sort of thing one expected to hear from Khelben Arunsun, the most powerful wizard in the city and Danilo’s longtime mentor.
    Arilyn grimaced at her misfortune. If she inquired directions from this assembly, Danilo was certain to hear of her plight.
    “You present an interesting proposal, Oth Eltorchul, but a dangerous one,” stated a thin, querulous male voice.
    That would be Maskar Wands, Arilyn supposed. Danilo had often described the elderly wizard as being as nervous as a brooding hen.
    “Dangerous? How so? The Dreamspheres have been thoroughly tested. The subjects were willing, even eager, and though none of them were persons of much consequence, I am pleased to claim that no ill effects were suffered. To the contrary, the Dreamspheres gave them a few moments’ respite from their dreary little lives.”
    The man’s voice held the well-trained, almost musical tones of an accomplished mage, but the genteel sneer in it set Arilyn’s teeth on edge. That was undoubtedly Oth Eltorchul, a member of a wizardly family who engaged in magical training and experimentation. She knew Oth by sight only. He was a tall man with the flame-colored hair common to his clan and ale-colored eyes that brought to mind the fixed stare of a hunting owl. Danilo had studied several years ago with Lord Eltorchul, Oth’s father, but he had no use at all for Oth. At the moment, Arilyn was inclined to applaud Danilo’s judgment.
    “Where do these dreams come from?” asked an unfamiliar voice.
    A brief silence followed, broken by Oth’s scornful laugh. Arilyn thought it was a reasonable question. All dreams came from somewhere.
    “They are magical illusions, Lord Gundwynd, nothing more. A created incident that the dreamer experiences as if it were real. Entirely harmless.”
    “Magic is never entirely harmless,” Khelben pointed out. “Every wise man, mage or not, knows this to be true.”
    There was an angry scraping as a chair was pushed back. “Do you call me a fool, Lord Arunsun?”
    “And insult those assembled here?” the archmage returned, his tone edged with exasperation. “Why point out that the sky is blue, when they have eyes to see this for themselves?”
    “Now see here!”
    Arilyn decided that no good opportunity for interruption would present itself any time soon. She took two steps before another familiar voice halted her.
    “Sit down, Oth,” Lady Cassandra said firmly, “and listen to the advice you sought. I will speak plainly. No one will sell these Dreamspheres of yours, for the city’s wizards will oppose them. Any attempt to peddle magical illusions from a stall in the bazaar is a foolish challenge to their power and their right to ply their trade. I will have nothing to do with it, or anyone who does.”
    A murmur of agreement followed her words. “The Dreamspheres could become vastly popular,” Oth insisted. “There is much profit to be made.”
    “There is profit to be made in the sale of slaves,