City of the Dead

FIVE

Sophraea was still mulling over the previous evening's events when her mother Reye thrust a shopping basket into her hands. "With that midnight supper last night," said Reye, "we have nothing left in the house for tonight. See what you can find in the market. Take Leaplow if you need some help."

"I'd rather go by myself," said Sophraea, thinking she might cut down to Coffinmarch and call on Egetha. The woman wasn't the right type of wizard, at least according to Volponia, but she must know other magic-users in Waterdeep.

Reye started to protest, then shook her head. "I keep forgetting how old you are. You're right. It would probably be easier shopping without Leaplow. But keep…"

"My money hidden and don't talk to strangers!" Sophraea grinned at her mother.

"Go on, go on." Reye flapped her hands at her only daughter. "I obviously can't teach you anything."

Sophraea just laughed, pulling her second best cloak off the peg by the door. Outside a low dark sky threatened an eventual downpour. However, even though the chimney tops were lost in the clouds, the rain held off as Sophraea walked quickly to the market.

Once there, she found barrel after barrel filled with slightly s°ggy root vegetables. Winter storms kept the more distant traders away and the selection coming from nearby farms was the usual boring winter fare.

While bargaining with one vendor who at least had some greens that were supposed to be green, Sophraea heard a familiar voice behind her.

"I haven't the full price yet," said the lilting accents of Gustin Bone. "But give me just a little time and I can pay for the room all winter."

Peeking around a pile of dried fruits, Sophraea saw Gustin deep in conversation with the neighborhood silversmith.

"I get a good price for that room most seasons," said the man who was as round and heavy as one of his bowls. "Seeing as it opens onto the alley and there are no stairs."

"Certainly, you should charge more for such, a prize," agreed Gustin, smoothing back his well-trimmed beard. "And I will be happy to pay once I get my little exhibition open."

"A spell-petrified hero," said the silversmith. "Can't say that I have ever heard of such a thing."

"Shh, shh." Gustin laid his finger to his lips with exaggerated caution. "Don't want the citizenry of Waterdeep to hear too much before we are ready."

"We?"

"Well, I'm thinking a small portion of the viewing fee should belong to you by rights; it being your room and all. Of course, in return, you might agree to a smaller deposit on the room. A little less now, as it were, for much more later."

The silversmith smiled that smile so often seen upon the streets of Waterdeep, the one that says "I know you're trying to get the best of me, but I'm sure that I can get the best of you."

Gustin returned the silversmith's smile with one equally as bland.

"Well, it's hard to rent a room in winter," said the silversmith finally. "And people will pay to see the oddest things, just for entertainment."

' "I tell you, the ladies will weep with sympathy for such a brave paladin turned to stone in his prime," Gustin said. "And the gentlemen will pay to let them in to take a look. Especially when the gentlemen can comfort them afterward."

"Very well, I'll take what you have now and a portion of the fee later."

"Quite the best business decision that you've ever made."

In perfect accord, the two men nodded at each other, spat into their hands (at which Sophraea rolled her eyes in disgust), and shook upon the bargain.

His business successfully concluded, the satisfied Gustin went whistling past the outraged Sophraea. She swung her basket in front of him, knocking him hard in the stomach.

"Oof!" Gustin stopped abruptly. "Sophraea Carver. I didn't see you there. Do you need help carrying that basket home?"

His voice was still as cheerful as ever, but his face fell when Sophraea began to scold.

"You're a cheat!" she said to him. "My father is carving you that stone man. It was never any living hero. Spell-petrified paladin, I don't think so!"

Gustin dragged the sputtering Sophraea into a nearby alley.

"Hush," he said. "You don't understand."

"I understand very well," returned Sophraea. "You're just another adventurer trying to cheat a little coin out of our pockets. The ladies will weep… Well, they should if they waste their money on your foolishness."

"My foolishness is very harmless entertainment," retorted Gustin. "And they will come, especially after my hero walks through the market here, seeking to return to his family home."

"It's the silversmith's spare room!"

"I'll say that his family lived there many generations ago and he has spent all these long years seeking his way home, one last tiny spark of a living soul trapped inside the stone, driving him to his final resting place."

"Oh, that's terrible! Who is going to believe that?"

"Well, the citizens of Marsember, Arabel, and Daerlun, for a start," huffed Gustin. "It's how I make my living. Displaying the rare artifacts of a more magical time, before the Spellplague swept through the world. A tragic petrified hero always packs them in, especially after I get the chapbook printed telling about his great deeds and battles. A simple piece that can be bought on the way in or the way out."

"But my father is carving the statue now. How can you have done this in Marsember and those other places?"

"Different statue, obviously," said Gustin with exaggerated patience. "But the wagon tipped over on the way here, the statue broke, and pieces were never as interesting as a whole body. I have to say, what your father is doing is much more lifelike than my last hero."

"I still think it's a terrible cheat-. And why would anyone pay to see such a thing?"

"It's the marching through the streets that usually does it, I tell you. I know you have more of a history here of walking statues, but in Cormyr, most folks are impressed with that kind of magic." He grinned at her, his humor obviously restored. His green eyes twinkled, inviting her to share the joke with him.

Flabbergasted by his unrepentant attitude, Sophraea just fumed for a moment. Then she spun on her heel. "I'm going to tell my father," she said as she started out of the alley.

"No, wait." Gustin grabbed at her arm and pulled her back.

"Hey, let her go!" Binn, the one-eyed butcher's boy, skidded into the alley, aiming a wild punch at Gustin. The young man ducked. Binn threw his delivery aside to go after him.

Sophraea screeched as a greasy, bloody package splattered against her. She shoved the disgusting thing away, yelling at Binn, "Don't. I can take care of myself."

The butcher s boy was too caught up in his heroics to pay any attention to the maiden that he thought he was rescuing. He swung another punch at Gustin, who being a good head and shoulders taller than the lad, just leaned out of the way.

Sophraea pinched Binn's arm, hard, to make him listen.

"Ouch!" The boy rubbed the bruise on his upper arm. "That hurt, Sophraea."

"Serves you right for not listening to the lady." Gustin had retreated strategically behind Sophraea only to let out his own yelp when her elbow poked back into him.

"Both of you just stop it," she stated firmly. "Binn, it was very nice of you to defend me. But I need to talk to this man. Alone."

"You're sure you don't want me to fetch some of your brothers?" asked Binn, staring with malice at Gustin.

"No!" said Gustin and Sophraea together.

Binn picked up his package of meat, dusted it off with one casual slap against his leg, and left.

"I'm not sure that I'd eat anything that came from that butcher," mused Gustin.

"We don't," said Sophraea. "We get our meat two streets over."

"That's a relief."

"Not that you'll be eating any of it," said Sophraea firmly. "I'm not invited to supper?" Gustin grinned at her. "Even after I defended you from that homicidal butcher's boy?" "You didn't defend me. I defended you." "Well, I was just getting ready to…"

"And I'm still going to tell my father about the trick that you're planning with that statue. He's a very honest man and I'm sure that he won't approve."

"Please don't do that." Gustin looked quite crestfallen. "He might stop working on it."

"But you can't expect us to help you trick people out of their money," said Sophraea stepping out of the alley and back into the bustle of the market.

"It's not easy being a wizard these days," Gustin pleaded as he followed her out of the market. "There's just not as much money in magic as there used to be! I need that statue."

Sophraea paused in her angry march down the street. She gave Gustin a straight stare, ignoring the people pushing around them. "Are you a good wizard?" she asked.

"Better than some, worse than others." Gustin paused, a suspicious look dampening his grin. "Why do you ask?"

"I could use a wizard," answered Sophraea with a rather nasty smile.