The God Catcher

TEN

You have the advantage of me, I'm afraid," Tennora said calmly, as if the man were a guest at one of her aunt and uncle's even-feasts. Her nerves had been stretched taut too many times in the last two days, but if she imagined him sitting in a comer, if that velvet jerkin were a doublet and half-cloak, she might manage. "And I do believe my door was locked. Did someone let you in?"

"A well-bred girl," the man said with a smile that twisted the comer of his mouth. He raised the cane off his lap, and Tennora felt the spell he cast slam the door behind her. "I approve of your manners," he said, laying the cane across his knees once again. "You may call me Dareun."

He remained sitting, his hands resting on the cane. The crystal in the handle glittered with an iridescence that was not wholly natural. Tennora peered at it and saw the telltale signs of traces of magic organizing themselves around the crystal.

Not just a cane. As Tennora's staff had let her focus her energy and will, so did Dareun's cane improve its holder's grasp of magic. She held her expression as steady as she could, but she let her eyes dart to her staff resting in the corner beside the door.

"Very well, Dareun," she said. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

He made no move to stand. "That isn't how this is going to work, my dear girl."

"Oh?" she said lightly. He wasn't one of Master Halnian's students, to be sure, nor had she seen him before at the House of Wonder. "You are quite demanding, saer, for someone who has broken into my home."

He smiled. His teeth were very white. "It is only fair," he said.

Oh Hells, she thought-the antiquary must have sent him. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Then you will likely also be surprised to hear that I'd like you to hand over my mask."

"I beg your pardon?" Tennora said, though her heart was racing. It is not his to sell, Aundra had said. The mask in the drawer seemed to be sending out signals like a lighthouse. I'm here! I'm here! She fought not to look at it. "Your mask? Perhaps you're looking for someone else."

"I know you took it." He stood and leaned on the walking stick rather heavily as he stepped closer to Tennora. His smell tickled its way through her nose and down her throat-brisk, bitter, and medicinal. "You and your… friend," he said. "It's a fortunate thing that my friend Ferremo remembered your name and knew the right person to ask about you. You might have evaded me otherwise."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Tennora said-what was that smell? Some sort of ointment? "I do not associate with criminals. I'm very sorry you're missing property"-A cheap scent? — "but I'm going to have to ask you to… leave." With a sinking sensation, she realized what it was.

Chlorine.

That was the smell. Blurred by some other scent he wore, but that sharp, unpleasant odor was unavoidably chlorine.

Tennora closed her eyes. Pages of books flipped by her mind's eye, illustrated with graceful drawings of dragons: blue, gold, white, black, red, green. Coiled around a tree, in the illustration. Marked by its distinctive crest and horn, the text said, and Breathes poisonous gas.

A green dragon. Dareun was a dragon too.

No. Nestrix is not a dragon, Tennora reminded herself. She had just managed to know somehow that the shop owner would be a dragon…

She opened her eyes. Dareun was watching her with an amused smile.

"Are you contacting her?" he said. "Tell her what I want. Tell her I'm going to take it and guarantee she never makes another play if she insists on being difficult."

The shop bells tinkled again. The seamstress held her gaze on the measuring tape at Nestrix's ankle.

"Well met," she called. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"It's quite all right," a man's voice said. "Take what time you need."

Nestrix froze and looked into the mirror. Over the shoulder of her reflection she saw a man with sleek blond hair standing at the counter's table. The assassin from the antiquary's. The lovac.

He saw her watching him, and his eyebrows rose. A slow grin spread across his face. The seamstress finished her measurement, greeted the man, and slipped into the back to collect his garments.

"Well met, Mistress Blue," he said once the seamstress had gone. "Come around here often? Or did you notice my breeches the other night? Goodwoman Darvien is quite handy with a bolt of velvet."

Nestrix didn't move. The past still ached in her chest, and she was in no mood to suffer the little worm's insults. If she ignored him, she might not care.

"Or is it just to celebrate a good murder? Spend your victims' coin?"

"It's my coin," she said hotly.

He clucked his tongue. "Not even a protestation of innocence for form's sake?"

"Your men attacked me. What did you expect would happen?"

"I expected you would have known better," he said. "You've chosen the wrong people to antagonize. You must be mad to walk into our hands like that."

She turned at that. "I am not mad!" she growled.

His copper-capped teeth glinted in the light of the lamps. "Ah-ah! I find it's true that only the mad make such protestations. The sanity of the sane defends itself."

"Spoken like a swollen-headed buffoon," she replied. "Tell me, what platitudes do you speak to convince yourself that being the lovac of a wyrmling taaldarax is worth your precious time?"

He smirked. "My master may be young, but he's powerful indeed."

"I never thought I'd find a white who played xorvintaal," she said with her own smirk. "But I suppose it's unavoidably true, given his choice of agent. Did he choose you for your shiny hair?" The man's expression didn't change.

In fact, if possible, the lovac' s expression had grown even smugger.

Something made him think he had the upper hand.

"Tennora," she whispered.

Still wearing the pinned stormcloak, Nestrix slapped the payment down on the table. The lovac grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close.

"What's your rush?" he said. "We were just starting to get along."

In answer, Nestrix balled her other fist and punched him squarely across the jaw.

He fell, and she stepped over him, wrapping the cloak around her as she ran, down Market Street and back to the God Catcher, clutching her knuckles and wishing once more for wings.

Ferremo stood uneasily and watched her bolt from the shop.

"Here we are," Goodwoman Darvien said, coming back into the front room. "I've-Good gods above! Goodman Magli, are you bleeding?"

Ferremo touched his rapidly swelling lip. His fingers came away red. "It appears I am. Never ask a woman her age, I suppose?" He pulled a square of silk from his pocket and held it to his lower lip. "It seems I'm needed back at the shop. Hold those for me for another hour, would you?"

The bells tinkled as he stepped outside, but the blue dragon was already lost in the crowds. Ferremo muttered a curse. He shouldn't have laid it on so heavily. Now she would interrupt his master, and Ferremo would catch the brunt of it.

"Coins bright, boss?" Ferremo spun around to see Alina leaning against the face of the seamstress's shop. "Ouch," she said, seeing his face. "That's quite a-"

"Enough," he snapped. "Things are getting out of hand." He pulled out a thick gold coin, a favor token, from his pouch. The magic in it would carry them back to the lair his master had chosen to favor-in this case, the antiquary's shop at the edge of the dragonward's power.

"Did he call?"

Ferremo narrowed his eyes. "No. This is… preemptive."

"And so is this," Alina said. She reached into her vest and pulled out a slip of parchment. Ferremo took it from her, reading the lines of sepia ink.

Crimes: Murder of Ardusk Nagaenil.

The bold face of the blue dragon-woman in heavy lines.

Spellscarred. Do not approach alone.

"What is this?" he said.

"A handbill. There was a fellow, it seems, handing them out at the docks and gates. Apparently he's looking for her too." Alina leaned in close. "Only he says she's no dragon. Just some plague-addled goodwife."

"How would he know?" Ferremo said with a sneer.

"'Tis a fair question," Alina said. "But whatever proofs he's found, her lovac seemed very interested and-dare I say-troubled by them. They went a-walking for almost half an hour."

Ferremo frowned. That was interesting. But how could the lovac not know something so fundamentally wrong about her mistress? When he had been drawn, many years before, into Andareunarthex's schemes, his master had made a point of showing the young assassin the extent of his powers and what having connections to those powers could mean for Ferremo. Was the woman just stupid, or was there still more the two were hiding? If the bounty hunter had drawn Tennora into his plans, perhaps it was the blue dragon who was doing the hiding.

Ferremo considered the handbill. "Have you told the master this?"

Alina shook her head. "Not yet. One way or another, I think he wants her. Doesn't seem to matter much if she's a dragon pretending to be a woman or a woman pretending to be a dragon. Though with the ward, the latter seems more likely."

Ferremo agreed and rethought his plans. "She's headed to him now," he said. With the dragonward sapping his master's strength, even if the blue dragon was only a spellscarred woman, he stood a chance of being hurt. Hells, even with only the lovac fighting back, Andareunarthex might be hurt. Ferremo worried one copper tooth with the tip of his tongue. Infiltrating Waterdeep still seemed like a poor plan, considering the power of the dragonward, even if his master insisted it was a trifling annoyance. If another player struck, they might be finished. He handed Alina the handbill.

"Has he called you?" Alina asked again.

"He will," Ferremo said, starting toward the address he had given the green dragon earlier that morning. "Come on."

"I think there's been a mistake," Tennora said. "I'm not who you think I am."

"No?" Dareun said. "Because right now I think you're the one who's going to lead me to the player that stormed into my hoard and stole my things. And I'd hate to be disappointed. Where is your taaldarax?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He sneered. "The dragon. Are you hers, or did the eladrin broker your skills?"

"Neither. I have no master."

"Do not lie to me," Dareun said. "The eladrin claimed you."

Tennora swallowed. "He's confused. I'm no longer Master Halnian's student."

"Then where is the dragon? And before you say you don't know who I mean," Dareun interrupted with a raised finger, "think carefully."

"I don't know where she is," Tennora said. "She left. She was angry I said I wouldn't help her any longer."

Dareun leaned on his cane. "I believe I told you not to lie to me. If you'd angered your taaldarax, you wouldn't be standing before me. You'd best convince her to return my mask to me," he said, leaning closer, "else I'll have to take you in her stead."

His threat fell apart into a fit of coughing that had Dareun bent nearly double for a span of breaths. He pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, and Tennora saw it was stained with spots of blood. His hand shook where it leaned on the cane, and for a brief moment it seemed he might be overwhelmed by the fit.

The dragonward-it was working. Fighting the effects of the mythal was slowly killing him. He might be weak enough for Tennora to stop him here and now.

She pulled the dagger from her belt.

He hadn't expected her to fight-Tennora could tell by the way his hands went to push her away without a spell or weapon in either. She slashed at his chest, cutting through the fine silk and scoring the skin beneath.

Dareun recovered enough to grab her arm and twist it roughly. She dropped the dagger and moved with the twist, pulling her arm up. She shoved her other elbow into his gut and stomped hard on his insole, just as Mardin had shown her. He shouted in surprise and let go of her long enough for Tennora to slip out of his grasp. She dashed to the door and pulled hard on the knob.

He raised his hand and the door slammed shut again.

Frantic, Tennora snatched her staff up from where she'd left it beside the door. Dareun was on her before she could bring a spell to mind. He reached for her throat.

She swung the staff, bashing his head, and ran for the window. The tip of her staff broke the shutters open ahead of her. "Help!" she shouted. "Help! Intruder!"

Potent, smothering dragonfear washed over her and buckled her knees. Her cries died in her throat. But whether it was exposure to Nestrix's rages or the effects of the blessed, blessed dragonward or the sharp pain in her knee as she fell, she pushed it off before it could settle in her heart. She had enough sense to fall aside as another spell stirred the air.

A bloom of dark energy burst into being. Its edge caught her, and a bone-chilling cold seized her arm and leg.

Tennora kicked the table over in time to deflect another dark and nasty spell. Her carvestars were in the kitchen drawer, her staff only a crutch for magic she fought to call to mind-unless he came closer. She whispered the words to a spell and popped her head over the edge of the table, long enough to let loose a few feeble darts of acid toward him.

One hit. The other two destroyed her shelf of chapbooks. Tennora shrieked.

So did Dareun-he was clutching his right arm where the blast had hit.

"Dokaal bitch," he shouted. Another blast of darkness took the comer of the table. Tennora seized the dangling table leg and wrenched it off.

She hurled it at him and struck his bad arm once more, then ducked behind the table, panting and clutching her staff and trying to ready a spell. She rubbed her aching knee.

Her neighbors had to be hearing this, she thought, her heart racing. Any minute now someone would burst in. Cassian was two floors away, she realized. He could be here in a second, wand blazing. Mardin might have heard her scream. Or maybe the smith down the hall. Or the tough old fishwife downstairs.

It was the middle of the day, she realized. Most of them were away.

Veron-Tennora reached into the apron pocket and fished out the token he'd given her.

She hurled it against the wall, and it shattered in a rain of fine sparks.

She popped her head over the table again to throw a gout of fire and sacrifice more of her beloved library, but found Dareun standing directly in front of her. He grabbed her by both wrists until she dropped the staff.

"I'm very sorry you made this decision," he said.

Tennora released the fire.

It was bigger than it should have been, and not as hot. The blowsy flames burst toward the ceiling, streaking past both their heads. Tennora pulled away, expecting the flames, and the worst of them singed Dareun's face. He screamed and released her, and she grabbed her staff and scrambled back toward the window.

"No!" Dareun barked. Tennora felt a chill in the air and he was suddenly behind her. Cold so deep it seared her skin emanated from the hands that clutched her shoulders. It seeped into her lungs and they ached.

"Where is your mistress?" he hissed.

Tennora jerked her staff toward her and cracked him hard on the side of the face, but he wouldn't let go. She hit him over and over, unable to draw up the focus for another spell, so long as that deep, black cold was pouring into her. Her knuckles ached as the chill filled her bones. Any moment… she would drop.

"Tell me!" he shouted, shaking her.

The door banged open. Dareun turned to face the intruder, taking Tennora with him.

Nestrix's eyes were wild and glowing under the hood of a blue stormcloak. Her fingers curved into claws. She glanced at Tennora, at Dareun.

"Step away from that one, wyrmling," she snarled, pacing into the room. "She's not for you."

"Gladly." He let go of Tennora and she fell onto the windowsill. "She's not the one I want."

"I'm not your rival," Nestrix said. "Not yet. But you tempt me sorely, wyrmling."

Dareun's vicious smile grew, and he matched Nestrix's pace to keep the room between them. "Oh, the time for that has passed. You're in my territory, myrnixae. "

She snarled something in Draconic and licked a canine as if testing its sharpness. "Your last chance to flee. I warn you."

Dareun raised his cane again, a spell taking shape.

Tennora lunged at him, trying to grab hold of his sleeve, to pull his arm away and disrupt the casting. Nestrix had no spells to cast, no weapons, she was helpless as Nestrix planted her feet, opened her mouth wide, and screamed.

A veritable storm, a swarm of lightning exploded out of Nestrix's throat. It raced across the room, crackling over Dareun's body. His screech of pain was drowned out by the thunder rippling behind it so loud that Tennora clapped her hands over her ears, just as the force of it threw her across the room and everything went black.

Ears ringing, Tennora opened her eyes and stood. Her home lay in ruins-her furniture shattered, her books torn and burned. Both Dareun and Nestrix lay crumpled on the floor. Dareun's fine clothes were turned to ash in many places, the skin angry red and even black at points. Nestrix's mouth was burned as well, blistering cruelly, and her cheeks were streaked with char. Both seemed as dazed as Tennora.

But Dareun was in better shape despite all that-there was a second man, the man from the antiquary's shop, pouring a healing draught into his master's mouth. A man and a half-elf woman-both strangers-came in the door.

"That one," the man from the shop said, nodding at Nestrix.

"No!" Tennora shouted, though it came out like a wheeze. The three ignored her, and the half-elf held a rag to Nestrix's face. She thrashed against it, but only for a moment, and then went slack.

Tennora tried to clamber over the remains of her furniture, but her knee buckled and the blood on her hand made her grip slippery. They scooped Nestrix up by the ankles and shoulders and hauled her closer to Dareun and his lieutenant.

Tennora lurched to her feet and threw herself into the kitchen. Her carvestars-they were in the drawer with the mask. She had to "Tennora?" a voice called from the hallway. "Is everything all right?"

"Cassian!" she shouted back. "Hurry! Help!" The man from the antiquary's stood and drew his knife But he was too slow. Cassian burst through the door with a blaze of flames. The man with the knife threw up a ringed hand instead. An invisible barrier spread out to meet the fire, to throw it aside.

Another group of books went up in flames.

Tennora pulled the drawer right out of its frame, scattering papers and the mask in its case and all four of her carvestars. She plucked one up and hurled it at the intruders. The flying blade pierced the half-elf woman's thigh. She cried out and stumbled.

Tennora pointed a finger and sent a burst of silver energy after it. A second followed, but collapsed onto the floor, scorching the wood.

Tennora cursed. She gathered up the carvestars.

Cassian waved his hands and sent a curtain of fire over the cluster of intruders. The half-elf dropped to the ground, but the man and the antiquary both cried out as the fire singed them.

So close, Tennora thought. She threw the carvestar and once again caught the antiquary. This time, though, the blade sank into his chest. He grunted, but managed to pull it free and fling it aside. Blood seeped across the silk of his shirt, and he pressed his hand to it.

Veron burst through the door behind Cassian, crossbow taut and loaded. He scanned the room, spotting Nestrix prone on the floor and then looking up at Tennora.

"Shoot him!" she shouted, pointing at the man with the knives.

"Lay down your arms!" Veron cried, raising the crossbow to his eye.

The man from the antiquary's shop spun another knife out of its sheath and hurled it at Veron. The bounty hunter threw up his crossbow and knocked the blade aside. He let fly a bolt, which struck the shoulder of the antiquary, who yelled a string of foul curses and clutched the bolt's shaft.

"Alina!" he shouted. "The favor! For the love of the gods, use the favor!"

The half-elf woman, still favoring her wounded knee, pulled out a coin a little larger than a platinum sun.

"No!" Tennora shouted, and threw herself at the half-elf woman. The coin flew from the woman's outstretched hand as she fell beneath Tennora. It spun lazily away.

The antiquary reached up and plucked it from the air. He gave Tennora and the half-elf a wicked grin. "Sorry ladies," he said. He spread his fingers and the token fell.

It clinked as it hit the floor, and before the sound had faded, Dareun, his servants, and Nestrix were gone.

All except the half-elf.

Veron strode across the room and pointed his crossbow down at her throat. "In accordance of the laws of Waterdeep, consider yourself under arrest and in my custody until the Watch arrive. I don't suggest you move."