Mark Russum

Spellfire is the most powerful magic in the land. It’s a dangerous weapon in anyone’s hands. In the wrong hands, it can destroy the world. Shandril Shessair wanted a taste of adventure. She got spellfire, and now she's fleeing for her life across Faern, searching for somewhere to hide. More evil wizards, warriors, and priests than she can count are trying to get it from her, and they'll kill or enslave her without hesitation. Her last, desperate hope is to take refuge in the sheltered city of Silverymoon. If she makes it that far.

It can lay low a dragon or heal a wounded warrior. It is the most sought-after magical power in all Faern. And it is in the reluctant hands of Shandril of Highmoon, a young, orphaned kitchen-lass. Now she's on the run from half of the evil sorcerers in the land, not to mention their relentless minions. But with the help of a handsome young wizard, some rough-and-tumble Knights of Myth Drannor, and a certain old mage of Shadowdale, she just might manage to stay alive. At least until tomorrow.

All her life, Narnra of Waterdeep wondered who her father is. Amid the squalor of the streets, through the danger she faces daily as a thief in the City of Splendors, she speculates on whom the mysterious wizard might be who left her mother to raise a fatherless child. Now she's discovered that it's no less a person than Elminster of Shadowdale, mightiest mage in all Faerian. And her anger is as boundless as his power.

On the world of his birth he's all but a god, but when an ancient evil banishes him to the depths of the Nine Hells, he's just another lost soul. Elminster, Sage of Shadowdale, Chosen of Mystra, faces his most desperate struggle - to survive, to escape, to cling to his very sanity - and all the forces of the inferno are rallied against him.