The Dream Spheres

Thirteen

How long Danilo stayed by his sister's side, he could not say. Time slipped into a meaningless haze. He was vaguely aware of Arilyn's low, musical voice as she ex shy;plained matters to the half-ogre, who apparently had appointed himself Lilly's personal protector.

"I knew it," the tavern guard said, his voice suspi shy;ciously gruff. "Fine girl-too good to have sprung from this swamp. Too bad you took your time coming for her."

Danilo rose and faced the half-ogre's accusing glare. "I will not gainsay you, sir. Permit me to do for her what little service remains. If you have servants to spare, can you put them at my disposal? I intend to take her home," he said firmly, "but not like this."

The half-ogre nodded and then hollered for someone named Peg. A thin, dark-eyed girl crept into the room and began to tend to Lilly with a sister's care. Other ser shy;vants set off on errands, declining Danilo's offer of coin as they gathered their last gifts for their lost friend.

Arilyn took his arm and guided him down to the tavern. Danilo waved away the bottle that the half-ogre, who was apparently the owner of this establishment as well as the guard, sent to his table. It was effort enough to push away the dark haze of grief and regret when his wits were clear and whole.

Their host had no such reservations. The massive tavernkeeper slumped at a table littered with empty mugs, morosely staring into the dregs of his latest cup and looking like a man whose last light had gone dim.

Finally Peg came downstairs and bade them come. Lilly was lying at peace, clad in the simple white gown that one of the serving girls had given her.

"A scarf is needed," the girl said in a dull, dazed voice as she regarded the wounds on Lilly's throat, "or flowers, maybe." She nodded wordless thanks when Danilo placed several silver coins in her hand, and she walked on leaden feet from the room.

"Tren," Arilyn said softly, nodding toward the four slash marks. "The width and spacing of the claws tell that tale."

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air. Neither of them cared to give words to it or to contemplate what had kept the reptilian assassins from completing the task in their usual fashion.

"A nobly born mage, an elven rogue, a half-elven woman, and now Lilly," Danilo murmured. "Where is the pattern to it?"

Arilyn held up a small, glowing sphere. "I found this in Lilly's room. If it was Lilly who had the kiira, the money she got for it is long gone."

He quickly took the dream sphere from her and slipped it into his boot. "Better this not become common knowl shy;edge. I will find whoever did this, but the fox is more cau shy;tious when he knows the hound has found the trail. Was there anything else in the room that might help?"

The half-elf hesitated. "A bit of parchment. A note of some sort, I suppose, but it was too sodden to unfold, much less read. Lilly must have reached for it in her last moment and drowned it in her own blood."

"What secret did she protect?" Danilo murmured as he studied his sister's still face. "Who absorbed her last thoughts?"

The half-ogre came to the door. "All is ready," he said gruffly. He shook aside offers of help and carried Lilly himself to the waiting carriage.

The closed, flatbed carriage moved with somber pace to the Thann estate. Danilo and Arilyn saw that it was placed in the carriage house, then started for the villa. Word of this arrival had already reached the lord and lady. Cassandra met them at the door, her face white with fury.

"How dare you bring this tawdry matter to my door?" she demanded.

Danilo ignored her-probably the first time this slight had been offered the lady-and looked over her shoul shy;der to address his father. "My lord, Lilly was in danger. You must have known that, yet you represented this to me as a minor nuisance. Now the girl is dead. Your daughter, my sister. I am sorry for any pain this may cost you, my lady," he said to Cassandra, "but this matter should have come to light long ago."

Before she could respond, the family steward blew into the room like a storm-tossed scarecrow. Arilyn had never seen the servant in such dishabille. His shirt was untucked, the sash and emblem that proclaimed his position was askew, and the strands of his sparse sandy hair stood up like bits of straw. A slight puffiness of his upper lip lent his mustache an asymmetry that, on any other man, might have been mistaken for a wry and roguish grin.

"Lord Gundwynd to see you, Sir, Madame," he an shy;nounced with stiff dignity and slurred diction.

"Not now, Yartsworth," all those present said in rare and perfect unison.

"He is most insistent," the steward observed, gin shy;gerly touching his fingertip to his swollen lip.

Cassandra took note of this, and her indignation rose to another stage. "Show him in."

The small, gray man burst into the hall. Before he could sputter out a word, Lady Cassandra bore down on him like a prevailing wind.

"This is beyond the pale, Gundwynd! You might mis shy;treat your own servants and suffer no ill for it, but do not presume to abuse any person in my employ."

Lord Gundwynd fell back a step, some of the wind knocked from his sails, but quickly recovered his pique. "Your choice of words is telling," he said coldly. "You have heard of my trouble, but then, who has not?"

"Thann had losses as well," she pointed out.

"If only the loss ended with the ambush!" he exploded. "All the elves in my employ have left. Do you know how difficult it is to find riders for aerial steeds? As if that weren't enough, there is the threat that all those of elven blood in the city-and beyond, for all I know-will refuse to use Gundwynd transport and will not buy or sell goods carried by my family. Elves are few enough, thank the gods, but this scandal could mean my ruin!"

"My sympathies," Danilo said in flat, ironic tones. Arilyn noted that he shifted a step closer to her, wordlessly-and perhaps without thought or design-declaring his allegiance.

The lord whirled on him. "You will be sorry soon enough! I would not be surprised to hear that this whole affair is somehow your doing, you and that elf you keep company with. This one too, for all I know," he added, looking wrathfully at Arilyn. "Well, the truth will come to light. I will bring suit against Thann and Ilzimmer and let the Lords sort the thing through!"

A long moment of silence followed this pronounce shy;ment. Lord Rhammas turned so pale that Danilo feared he might faint.

Cassandra took a step toward her husband, as if her near presence might serve to bolster him. "Idle threats, Gundwynd. You have too much to lose to take such action."

"My family faces ruin, disgrace! If it comes to that, do you think I care who falls with me? I will know how this came about, mark me."

Danilo saw a pattern emerging. According to Bron shy;wyn, the dream spheres had left Mizzen's shop the very day Gundwynd's caravan returned to Waterdeep. She had reported to him the malfunction of her bag of send shy;ing, and the small crystal orb that had remained in the magic bag. Lilly, who had sold a ruby stolen from the caravan, had had a dream sphere in her possession when she died. It seemed certain to him that the answer to his sister's death was entwined with this string of events. Without thinking of possible conse shy;quences, Danilo reached into the hiding place in his boot and took out the dream sphere Arilyn had found in Lilly's room.

"Were there any such items among the lost cargo?"

Lord Gundwynd's face turned a deep shade of puce, and his eyes slid guiltily toward the suddenly wary Cas shy;sandra. He puffed and hmmphed for a few moments, then admitted there had been.

"We had an agreement," the noblewoman said coldly. "None of us would support the sale of these toys!"

"Arrangements for this delivery were made well before that agreement," he argued. "This was between Mizzen Doar and Oth Eltorchul. Take it up with either of them." His eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded the ball in Danilo's hand. "Where did you get that?"

"In an alley behind the bazaar," Danilo lied smoothly. "The thieves must be an efficient lot-the goods have already reached the streets."

The merchant snorted in disbelief. "I knew it!" he exploded. "The Thann family are behind this-you lot, and the elf lord with you. So much for your agreement, my lady! I'll see you all ruined before this is through." He sliced the air with one hand in a gesture of finality-or possibly execution-spun on his heel, and stalked out.

Cassandra took a long, calming breath and turned to her son. "Danilo, I am going to ask the same question Lord Gundwynd posed. Where did you get that infernal thing?"

"It was in Lilly's possession," Danilo said bluntly. "In light of Oth's death, it is reasonable to assume that the dream spheres at least in part led to Lilly's fate."

The noblewoman turned white. "Have you any idea-any at all! — of what you have done?"

"I know that I had a sister, that she was in danger and in need of my aid. I know that I failed her. Now she is dead, and I intend to know why."

"Sentimental nonsense." Her angry blue eyes settled on the watchful half-elf. "Can you talk no sense into him?"

Arilyn merely shrugged.

Cassandra hissed a sigh. "Let me paint the picture. Many caravans are waylaid. Pirates, bandits-these are hazards of the trade. This theft was unusual, but we could have quietly worked the matter through to its con shy;clusion. For whatever reason, rumors are turning it into a parlor guessing game, in which all those involved are suspect. By presenting that. . thing . . while Gund shy;wynd was ranting about the ambush, you gave him fuel for his fire. What do you suppose he will conclude when he learns what you've brought to the family villa? Do you think the pieces will not be put together? By your actions, you made it appear that Rhammas's little bas shy;tard was involved in this theft!"

"That was hardly my intent," Danilo began.

"Intentions seldom matter. Impressions, on the other hand, matter a great deal. This may well put the Thann family in an untenable position. Once this new scandal comes to light-and it will, for you've made sure of it! — no one will believe that the girl acted without the complicity of the legitimate clan."

"How can any reasonable person draw that conclu shy;sion?" protested Lord Rhammas. "I did not even know the girl existed until after the attack! From our scant acquaintance, I would venture to say that she could not possibly have had a hand in that sordid affair."

"Oh, and I'm sure all Waterdeep will accept your word as if Ao Himself had finally spoken," the noblewoman retorted. Her angry gaze traveled from her husband to her son. "You are a pair of children, blinded to the larger issues by a worthless trollop!"

"That is remarkably callous, even for you," Danilo said with equal heat.

"Think what you like, but obey me in this. The matter dies with the girl. You and Arilyn have already stirred up more trouble than the pair of you can possibly charm, buy, fight, or spellcast your way free of."

Danilo studied his mother for a long moment. "For shy;give me, my lady, but I must observe that your words could be construed as a threat."

"Could they now?" Her thin smile was as sharp as a dagger. "I am gratified to hear you say so. Evidence at last that you are not such a fool as today's events would suggest!"

"But-"

"Enough," she said in cold command. She suddenly changed tactics. "Would you be content if we acknowledged the girl as family and buried her in the Thann tomb?"

This concession startled Danilo, and his anger soft shy;ened somewhat. "Thank you, but in all honesty, that will not end the matter."

"Possibly not," murmured Cassandra, "but we will do what we can."

* * * * *

Arilyn rode out directly from the Thann villa, leaving Danilo to battle Lady Cassandra over the details of Lilly's final arrangements. She tracked Isabeau to the orchard farm and confirmed from the farmers the tale that Hector had passed to Danilo.

Isabeau had left soon after her rescuers deposited her in the safe house-but not before she had managed to insult the farmers who risked their home and their safety for the Harpers' charge. As Arilyn picked up the trail of Isabeau's horse, she wondered where the woman was bound and what sort of reception she expected to get.

It would seem that Lady Isabeau's ambitions were lifting faster than a courtesan's skirts. Just a few moons past, when they'd found her on the road north of Baldur's Gate, she was happy enough to have left the remote gnome settlement that had given her shelter all her life. Waterdeep delighted her, as did the modest wealth that had awaited her there-most of it the legacy of her mother, who had been forced to leave the city without gathering her possessions. Now it seemed Isabeau was no longer content with her transformation from serving wench to lady of station and substance. She had pro shy;gressed from thief to murderer.

This Arilyn firmly believed, regardless of the facts of Oth's death. Whether or not Isabeau was responsible for the Eltorchul mage's fate, she had left Lilly to hers. To Arilyn's way of thinking, that made Isabeau as guilty as if she herself had cut the girl's throat.

Nor was the woman any more merciful to the ani shy;mals under her control. Isabeau had pushed her bor shy;rowed horse at a high pace, with callous disregard for the creature's safety. The moon had been full the night before, and each of the seven gleaming shards that fol shy;lowed the silver orb through the sky had been as bright as will o'wisps, but no amount of light, not even the brightness of highsun, could justify running a horse full-out on such rough terrain.

As Arilyn followed the trail, the road widened, and the forest gave way to fields. She rode past a few tidy cottages, through an orchard dense with late fruit, to the gates of an imposing country estate.

Whose lands these were, Arilyn could not say. Many of the merchant lords of Waterdeep had farms or stables or country manors in the northlands. One thing was certain: The owner possessed a rather dark streak of whimsy.

The manor and the wall around it had been fash shy;ioned from gray stone, a ghostly color that seemed to merge with the mist of coming twilight. Gargoyles, most of them winged cats with vampiric sneers, stood guard on the ramparts and towers. Arilyn did not bother to stop by the gatehouse to seek admission, even though the guards seemed more interested in their dice game than in their post. When a group of peasants came to the gate pulling a cart laden with late-summer produce, Arilyn left her horse in the shadows of the orchards and took a long, thin rope from her saddle.

She slipped around to the rear wall and tossed her rope. The first try fell short. With the second she snared one of the gargoyles. She gave the rope a tug to ensure it would hold, then quickly climbed the wall. Using a spreading elm for cover, she draped the rope down the inside of the wall and slid to the ground.

While the estate's cooks were haggling with the peas shy;ants over the price of carrots and cabbage and the guards' attention was absorbed by the cooks, Arilyn crept into the building through the kitchen entrance to await the coming of night. It proved to be a good choice, for the heavy tapestries and drapes intended to keep out the chill also provided ample places to hide.

When all was dark and silent, Arilyn slipped into the halls. Her passage went unchallenged, for the servants demonstrated the lax concern for their responsibilities that often marked those who labored under an absent tyrant's rule. She checked each bedchamber for occu shy;pants. Most were empty-the noble family was not in residence.

Most of the chamber doors were open. At the end of a long hall, near a balcony overlooking the garden, one door was firmly shut. Arilyn tried the door and found it locked. She took a bit of thin paper from her pack and slid it under the door handle to catch the key, then inserted a pick into the lock. To her chagrin, the key had been removed from the lock. Picking it would take several minutes more. The task felt familiar to her fingers, and she overcame the lock in short order. Carefully she eased open the door.

Moonlight poured in through the round window placed high on one wall, lingering on the sleeping woman and the abundant dark locks strewn about the pillow. It was without doubt Isabeau Thione. Before confronting the woman, Arilyn took a few moments to take stock of her surroundings.

The chamber was luxurious, but macabre. The bed was enormous, and it was covered with a heavy coverlet of blood-red velvet. Drapes of similar fabric shrouded the tall bed frame and the windows. A statue of a man with the head of a cat stood vigil in the corner, and winged cat gargoyles leered down at her from their perches on pil shy;lars and shelves scattered about the room. Other than the sleeping Isabeau, the only sign of life in the room was the gray tabby curled up at the foot of the bed. The cat raised his head and regarded Arilyn with a somno shy;lent stare, then yawned hugely and went back to sleep.

Arilyn quickly scanned the room for hidden doors and found none. She parted one of the velvet curtains and discovered another balcony beyond. She affixed a length of rope to the railing in case a quick exit was in order, then turned to her quarry.

The half-elf pounced onto the bed and seized Isabeau's wrists, pinning them up over her head. The tabby cat yowled and disappeared under the bed, and the woman came awake with a startled, inelegant snort.

"Call out, and I'll break your fingers," Arilyn said softly.

It was a potent threat, for hands were a thief's most valuable tools. A dancer would sooner lose the use of her legs or an artist his eyes.

Isabeau went very still. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you that." Arilyn cast a quick glance around the room. "What is this place? It's got more cats than Cormyr."

"This is the Eltorchul estate," the woman said haughtily. "I am here by invitation."

"Who did the inviting?"

"Lord Oth, of course. He and I are. . dear friends."

Arilyn considered the possible layers of deception that formed this boast. Oth obviously had not invited her, but was this claim meant to cloak a darker deed? She decided to go on attack, for people often stumbled over themselves in an effort to explain and justify their claims. "You're a liar," she accused.

Isabeau didn't take the bait. "You will have to be more specific."

"All right, how's this: Lord Oth is dead," Arilyn said plainly.

Panic jolted into the woman's eyes. "Let me up, and I'll tell you what I know," she said in a subdued voice.

Arilyn eased away. She rose to her feet and stood by the bed, arms folded. The former barmaid sat, pushing aside the heavy mass of her hair from a face that had suddenly grown pale.

"You are certain he is dead? Who killed him?"

Interesting, Arilyn thought, that she would immedi shy;ately come to this conclusion. "How do you know his death wasn't illness, or accident?"

The woman scoffed, dismissing that notion with a small, spitting sound. "From what I knew of him, I'd say it's a marvel he lived so long."

"Yet you seemed upset to learn of his death."

"Naturally! Lord Oth was a wealthy man, a powerful man. He could have been useful. See this?" Isabeau brandished one hand, her fingers spread to show the pink and gold ring on her middle finger. "He gave me this as a token and bade me present it when I wanted use of the estates."

"You picked an interesting time to use it," Arilyn said coldly. "The woman whose place you took is dead."

Isabeau didn't so much as blink her heavy lashes. "What of it? The Dock Ward is a dangerous place."

"Especially when there are tren lurking about."

"Tren?" The woman shifted one silk-clad shoulder. "That word means nothing to me."

The half-elf tamped down her temper. "All right then, what is your connection to Lilly?"

"Who?"

Her bored, derisive tone did not match the defiant chal shy;lenge in her eyes. Arilyn saw that she had two choices: she could play this woman's game by rules Isabeau under shy;stood, or allow herself to be played like a cheap fiddle.

She backhanded the woman across her lovely, sneer shy;ing face, then hauled her up by her hair. "Let's try that again," she suggested in a cold, dangerous voice.

A measure of respect crept into Isabeau's eyes, and she eased Arilyn's hands from her hair. "You are speak shy;ing of the red-haired serving wench. Yes, I took her place. I overheard a man and woman talking about seeing a young woman to safety out of the city. Why should that be her and not me? I seized the chance, as a drowning man might take hold of a rope. Would you begrudge that man his rescue, demanding that he die while he consid shy;ers whether someone else might be more worthy of it?"

Arilyn folded her arms. "Drowning, were you? In what cesspool?"

She tossed her dark head. "I fled the elf. You know the one. He was pursuing me."

The half-elf carefully kept her face neutral as she con shy;sidered this revelation. She had to admit that Isabeau's story was plausible. Elaith had promised Danilo months ago that he would let Isabeau live. Perhaps the elven rogue thought that he'd kept the promise long enough. If indeed he had followed Isabeau, he was most likely behind Lilly's death. With all the weapons at his command, it would not be difficult to imitate the cutting patterns of tren claws. Certainly Elaith had some knowledge of tren.

Another, darker thought occurred to her. Perhaps the tren assassins she had come across in the Thann villa were there not for an ambush but for an arranged meet shy;ing. Errya Eltorchul had said that her brother had done business with Elaith. Perhaps their dealings had gone sour, and the elf had intended to arrange for Oth's death. Once Elaith was discovered with the tren, it was not inconceivable that he would kill a few of the creatures to maintain his cover.

Even as the thought formed, Arilyn acknowledged this was an extreme measure. For one thing, it courted tren vendetta. For another, Elaith and five tren could have easily overcome her, and there would have been no one left to tell the tale. However, as Arilyn had told Lady Cassandra, she had never heard that Elaith had slain another elf.

She turned her attention fully upon the watchful Isa shy;beau. There was room for truth in the woman's words, yet Arilyn did not trust her and did not believe her claim that she "just happened" to wander into Lilly's tavern. Arilyn knew what would have led Elaith to Lilly's door, and she could easily imagine Isabeau having a part in its acquisition.

"As you say, the Dock Ward is a dangerous place," Arilyn said, as if she conceded the woman's argument. "Lilly recently sold a large ruby to a fence and probably had ready coin."

Isabeau's eyes went dark with rage, and she pounded on the bed with both fists. "The little cheat!"

Immediately she recognized the error of her words, realized that she had been tricked into admitting more than she had intended to. The vindictive, malevolent rage that twisted her face robbed her of beauty and stole Arilyn's breath.

Arilyn fought away the instinct to take a step back. The last time she had retreated from anything was a chance confrontation with a wounded panther, and that was a tactical move rather than one motivated by fear. Nonetheless, she recognized this was a truly dangerous woman.

Even as the thought formed, Isabeau sprang, cat shy;like, from the bed. She lunged not at Arilyn, but at the statue with the feline head. This she shoved with all her strength, sending it toppling toward the pursuing half-elf.

Instinctively Arilyn ducked, but the statue never quite fell. One stone hand flashed up to catch its bal shy;ance against the wall. The painted eyes took on depth, then a luminous glow.

It was clear that Isabeau had not been expecting this. She scrambled back up onto the bed, her back against the headboard and her eyes enormous.

The cat man leaped at Arilyn, fangs the color of ala shy;baster bared in a deadly smile. She dove straight toward it, rolling under the spring and rolling again to put dis shy;tance between herself and the magical guard.

She rose to her feet and drew her sword, although she was not sure how much good it would do her. The cat, for all its light-footed speed, was fashioned of stone.

A paw lashed out. Arilyn parried, and sparks lit the room as steel struck stone. The cat's other hand closed around the steel blade, and it wrenched the sword from Arilyn's hand. It threw the sword across the room and batted at the half-elf with its other paw.

Arilyn could not dodge the blow in time, but she rolled with it to minimize its force. She came up aching and bruised, but not badly hurt. The stone cat had kept its claws velveted. The statue was playing with her. Once it unsheathed those alabaster claws, Arilyn was done.

On impulse, she dove at Isabeau and tore the signet ring off her hand. Brandishing it at the cat, she com shy;manded the creature to stop.

A heart-stopping moment passed as the magical guard studied her with its inscrutable feline gaze. It was an enormous gamble, Arilyn acknowledged, and if it didn't work, she would be dead.

The cat turned and returned to its post. It assumed a regal pose, and the light faded from its eyes. Arilyn's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Don't think this is over," Isabeau said, her dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

The half-elf heard the voices and hurrying footsteps of servants in the hall. They began pounding on the door.

Apparently this was yet another trigger for attack. The winged gargoyles began to stir. Arilyn dove for her sword, and came up in a battle-ready crouch. Unlike her first adversary, true gargoyles only looked like stone. These were living creatures, and what lived could also die.

She spun away from a diving attack and delivered a backhanded slash. Her sword sliced through the batlike wing. The creature plummeted into the bed, sundering the ticking and sending feathers flying into the air.

Isabeau edged toward the window, obviously intend shy;ing to take Arilyn's escape route. "Not this time," the half-elf muttered. She lunged at Isabeau and caught her by the nightdress. She sent her spinning back into the room and took a stand in front of the window to block the woman's escape.

By now the manor's servants were at full alert. They had improvised some sort of ram and were pounding at the door with it. The wooden planks bulged inward with each resounding thump.

Arilyn paused at the window and sent a warning look at Isabeau. "We're not through."

"Oh, but I think we are." The woman gestured toward the door. The bar was beginning to splinter.

The half-elf swung herself over the balcony rail and slid down the rope. Though it galled her to do so, she had little choice but to retreat. Isabeau was in no posi shy;tion to bring a formal accusation against Arilyn, but if the Eltorchul servants found her on the estate, Isabeau would not have to speak out. The penalties for unwanted intrusion in a lord's home could be stiff.

She ran through the garden and to the rope she had left hidden behind the elm. Quickly she climbed the wall, and then made her way back to the orchard. Her mare awaited her, and she cantered toward her mistress.

Arilyn caught the saddle's pommel and swung her shy;self up. She leaned low over the horse's neck and urged her on to Waterdeep. Isabeau would have to be dealt with, but the half-elf herself was in no position to do so.

An old question, one that she had not asked herself in years, floated to the surface of her mind: Who would take the word of a known assassin?

* * * * *

The door splintered and flew inward, sending a half dozen servants stumbling into the room. Isabeau gath shy;ered up the neckline of her gown in one hand and drew back, as if this intrusion were not so much a rescue as an affront to her modesty.

One of the maids snatched up a coverlet and draped it around Isabeau's shoulders. "What happened, my lady? Are you hurt?"

Isabeau sent her audience a tremulous smile. "No, thanks to your quick response. A man came in through the balcony. I think he just meant to rob me, but the statues came awake, and they fought. It was terrible, terrible!"

The maid clicked her tongue soothingly. "Rest, lady. As you've seen, the master's magic will keep you safe."

"I cannot stay here after this!" Isabeau exclaimed in astonishment. "Saddle my horse at once."

"But dawn is hours away," one of the men protested. He wavered before Isabeau's steady gaze and conceded, "We could send a guard with you."

"I would be most grateful. Perhaps you could see to the arrangements, while I dress?" she hinted.

The servants retreated, leaving Isabeau alone and furious. She threw open the doors of the wardrobe and began to toss rich garments onto the bed as she consid shy;ered what her next step should be. Without Oth as a protector, she was in a delicate position. That wretched half-elf had surprised a reaction from her that might tie her to the theft of the air caravan.

Much good had that done her! The treasure was lost. The goods had been moved to Skullport, but they had been stolen before Diloontier could claim them for her. Or so he said. Isabeau would not be at all surprised to learn that the perfume merchant had double-crossed her.

So now what? She had no treasure, very little money, and a pair of diligent hounds on her trail. Isabeau had witnessed how relentless Arilyn and her handsome com shy;panion could be in pursuit of one of their little crusades. She muttered curses as she dragged a small traveling chest out from under the bed and began to hurl her new, stolen wardrobe into it.

"You are quick to take what is not yours," observed a cold, male voice behind her.

Isabeau gasped and whirled, one hand at her throat. A tall, slender figure stood in the shadows, smiling with icy amusement.

Her heart leaped painfully, then picked up the rhythm at a shallow, frantic pace. A strange giddiness overtook her, and the floor tilted as if it were an enchanted carpet on the verge of taking flight. She seized the bed curtain for support.

"You!" she gasped on a short, sharp breath. "It was you who pursued me!"

"Clearly, this is more of a surprise to you that it should be," the intruder said.

"What are you going to do with me?" she said in a tremulous voice.

His laugh was equally resonant of music and scorn. "Please. The role of delicate maiden does not suit you. I am not going to kill you."

"Then what?"

"This is a warning, nothing more. Do not pursue the dream spheres. I will brook no more interference."

Isabeau seized what seemed a likely distraction. "You will suffer interference regardless of what I do. Two meddlers are already on the trail. You know them well. Arilyn the half-elf, and Lord Thann."

This news was received in silence. He lifted one hand, displaying a small glowing sphere. "If they cross me, they will die-but not before I learn what death they fear most."

She laughed scornfully, a bit of bravado that went a long way toward restoring her spirits. "So much for the vaunted concept of honor among peers."

With the speed of a striking snake, his open hand shot toward her. Isabeau turned with the blow so that it barely grazed her cheek. The intruder reined in his anger with visible effort.

"Do not press me," he said in a low voice quivering with rage. "Heed well my words. I do not wish to see you again, but I might yet have use for you. The tides in the southlands have turned, and you will be welcomed in your homeland. Find your way there as soon as possible."

There was a puff of acrid smoke, then a soft hissing sound as air rushed to fill the void left by the shadowy figure's disappearance. The sudden wind swirled Isabeau's hair and nightdress around her and then was gone.

Isabeau brushed aside one of her dark locks and real shy;ized that her knees were trembling like aspens. She sank down on the bed and considered this new development.

Tethyr, the land of her ancestors. The suggestion had merit, and it fit well with her new and loftier ambitions. However, it was one thing to decide upon a trip to the distant south; it was quite another to manage it. She had no patron, little money, and slim prospects of get shy;ting more before the winter snows set in. The only solu shy;tion she could devise was to return to Waterdeep and recover the lost treasure. When she had accomplished that, she could return to her homeland in style.

Yes, that was what she would do. Isabeau rose, her mind made up, and continued stuffing the garments owned by some Eltorchul woman into the traveling chest. She would have the dream spheres, and she knew just how to get them.

Let the half-elf and her courtier chase down the mag shy;ical toys. She would follow them, as the desert jackal slinks after a pride of hunting lions. Jackals ate well, as a rule.

It did not concern her that many had died because of these spheres-some of them at her hand. She would not meet that fate. Arilyn and Danilo were powerful buffers. When they fell, Isabeau would know to retreat.

She began to hum as she finished her packing. The servants who carried her things to the stables and handed her up onto her horse commented with admira shy;tion on her courage and resilience.

"I will be fine," she assured them. "I will do very well indeed."

* * * * *

Danilo knew he was dreaming, but he took little com shy;fort from that knowledge. Images, disjointed and surreal, chased each other through his shallow, restless slumber.

A small white kitten playing in a courtyard. The sudden descent of night, and the approach of an owl. He tried to intervene but found he could neither speak nor move. A child chasing a ball into the street, unaware of the carriage bearing down upon her. Again and again-grim variations on the theme.

A cool hand smoothed over his forehead. Still caught up in the tumble of dream images, Danilo responded to this new threat. He seized the thin wrist and tugged. It was a great relief to be able to act at last. On instinct, he twisted and pinned the intruder beneath him.

A familiar voice said his name. He emerged fully from the nightmare and looked down into Arilyn's face. She regarded him calmly, which made him feel all the more nonplussed at being caught so much out of coun shy;tenance.

"Are my wards and locks so poor that you could easily overcome them?" he asked.

"Probably," she said mildly, "but Monroe let me in."

"Ah." Dan moved aside and let her rise. "Well, that's reassuring. I suppose." He rose and placed his hands to the small of his back as he tried to ease out the stiffness of his restless sleep. "Where have you been?"

"I went after Isabeau."

He froze in mid stretch. "She's dead, I suppose."

"No."

"You're unusually tolerant. In this case, I'm not sure I approve."

"She will get her due," the half-elf said with cer shy;tainty. "Soon, I'm guessing."

He eyed her sharply. "Meaning?"

"Isabeau claims she took Lilly's place to save her own life. She says she was pursued by Elaith Craulnober. Dan, before you deny the possibility, remember that Elaith probably has the Mhaorkiira. Remember that Lilly might have sold it."

Danilo turned to the window. Dawn was near, but dark clouds blinded the setting moon. "Elaith went after Isabeau once, and it is conceivable that he might do so again, but I do not want to believe that Elaith killed Lilly."

"It is a possibility."

"I know," Dan admitted with a sigh. He rubbed both hands briskly over his face, as if to clear his vision. "Damnation. I've grown rather fond of the rogue, and I truly believed he would honor his pledge. Of late, though, I have discovered reason to doubt my judgment of those around me. I do not know what to make of Lilly's death, but I feel as if I am standing on shifting sands with my family."

"And with me," Arilyn added softly.

"No. You only do what you must," he protested.

"The end is the same. Promises made and not kept. You need to know where things stand and whom you can trust." She fell silent. For a long time she looked troubled, as if she were fighting some invisible battle.

"You must speak with her," she said abruptly. "Lilly. Get a cleric, summon her spirit. Find out who killed her, and put your mind at ease. Whether it was Elaith or not, you will know, and you can move on."

He regarded her with astonishment. "Elves do not believe in this. You fought me over Oth's possible resur shy;rection."

"I do not like it, but it's a matter of elven tradition, not principle. Right now, it's something you need."

He was deeply moved that she would set aside her elven scruples, putting his concerns paramount. Gently he touched her cheek. "Thank you."

She twisted away and stalked toward the door. "Let's get it over with."

Danilo swallowed a grin. "Let's. If we linger any longer, we are in danger of finding ourselves in a senti shy;mental moment."

The half-elf sent him a suspicious look over her shoulder, as if she half expected him to be laughing at her. "Later," she said shortly, "and that's a promise I intend to keep."

"In that case," Danilo said, trying to wrest what light shy;ness he could from the situation, "I think I can promise this will be a very short conversation."

They rode to the City of the Dead, the vast walled garden where slept many, many generations of Waterdeep's folk, from the poorest commoner to the most fabled heroes of distant times. High walls surrounded the City, and guards stood watch at the fanciful iron gates. This protection went two ways: it kept treasure hunters from despoiling the graves, and it kept the inhabitants contained. In Waterdeep, the dead did not always rest quietly.

For a moment Danilo regretted the course he was about to take. Peace and rest-surely Lilly deserved that much.

"She deserves justice," Arilyn said firmly.

He sent her a quizzical look. "Since when did you start reading my mind?"

"Just your face. Let's do what we've come for."

They rode in silence to the gate and tied their horses to the rail provided. The guards admitted them, and they walked through the park-like grounds, past enor shy;mous statues and small, serene marble buildings. Here and there stood a building that was little more than a shallow facade, for the door led not into an edifice but into a dimensional gate.

Danilo paused before a statue of a white horse with a raven poised for flight on its shoulder. Never had he found the Thann family symbol so appropriate. Both creatures were part of the journey-the horse as a trav shy;eling partner in life, and, if legend had any basis in truth, the raven to guide the spirit into the lands beyond.

"Lilly will be in here," Danilo said, nodding toward the small, low building just beyond the family emblem.

Arilyn tried the door. "It's locked. Want me to pick it?"

"No need." Danilo placed his hand on the raven's marble head. Magic guarded the tomb, and none but family members could pass. The door rolled back silently, revealing an empty room.

He took a torch from the holder beside the door frame and lit it, then peered into the chamber. The doors that lined the room were marked with the names of those who slept beyond. No new engraving marked Lilly's rightful place among her kin.

"This is not what we agreed," he muttered. "She was to rest here in the main chamber until her permanent place was prepared. Perhaps the Lady Cassandra had Lilly moved to the commoner's grounds, or even an unmarked plot. If so, she will answer for it!"

They sought out the groundskeeper, a rather stringy-looking dwarf who was relaxing on the grass beside a site marked by an eternal flame. The small fire cast a pleasant warmth into the crisp air, and the dwarf was taking full advantage of it. He lay on his back, with his hands behind his head and his boots propped up on a headstone.

When Arilyn cleared her throat, the dwarf scrambled to his feet and dusted off one hand on the seat of his breeches. This he thrust toward Danilo.

"Sorry for yer loss."

Frequent repetition had drained the words of any empathy they might once have conveyed. Danilo grasped the offered hand briefly.

"Loss is the word, in more ways than one. I can't find my sister's body. It was supposed to be in the family tomb."

"Hmmph. What family might that be?"

Dan told him. The dwarf scratched at his beard and ruminated. "Seems to me yer too late, boy. That family's quick to get rid of servants and such like, ain't they? The ceremony was finished yesterday."

Dan and Arilyn exchanged a puzzled look. "That was not to have occurred until tomorrow. Where was she interred?"

"Not buried. Burned." The dwarf spat into the eternal fire and admired the resultant sizzle as if it illustrated his remark.

"Who was responsible for this mistake?" Arilyn demanded, clearly outraged.

"No mistake. We had our orders."

"Really," Danilo said coldly. "Who has the authority in this place to issue such orders?"

"She ain't from this place, and I'll be lighting a candle to almighty Clangeddin over that!" the dwarf said fer shy;vently. He placed a stubby finger on his nose and lifted it to a haughty angle in imitation of his recent nemesis.

Danilo began to get an extremely bad feeling about this. "You're not speaking of the Lady Cassandra Thann, are you?"

"You know her, I take it."

Without intending to do so, he shook his head. "No," he said in a wondering tone, and realized that he spoke truth. "No, I don't think I know her at all."