"Then let's hope they have the sense to get out of the way," the elf returned. He leaned forward, shaking the reins over the horses' hacks to urge them on. Something of his grim determination transmitted itself to the team. The pampered carriage horses turned back their ears, lowered their heads, and charged.
At the last moment the Watchmen leaped aside. The carriage thundered through, veering off to the right with a screech of wheels and a wild chorus of snorts and whinnies-an equine cry that would not have disgraced a paladin's battlehorse.
"At least someone's enjoying this," Danilo commented. He sent a worried glance over his shoulder, then sighed with relief as all four men rose to their feet.
A shadow flashed over them, tracing a circle on the road below. "Griffin rider," Danilo supplied.
Elaith swore and pulled back on the reins, but the horses were too lost in their wild, newfound freedom to respond in time.
Wind buffeted them as enormous wings backbeat the air. A huge, leonine body pivoted in the air and dropped to the ground in a ready crouch. The creature's
eaglelike beak snapped in percussive counterpoint to the menacing, feline growl that rumbled from its feathered throat.
The horses shied, rearing up to paw the air and whinnying in terror. The carriage tilted, spilling its occupants to the ground. Elaith was on his feet at once, alert for the attack, but he did not draw a weapon. From his position on the cobblestone, Danilo applauded the elf's good sense. At least twenty Watchmen and a dozen guards surrounded them with drawn swords.
Elaith cast a baleful look at Danilo. "Are you dead?" he demanded tartly.
Danilo hauled himself painfully to his feet, giving the matter careful consideration. "Not quite."
"Good," the elf growled as the men closed in. "I should hate to miss the opportunity to kill you myself"
* * *
The door to the prison cell clanked shut. Elaith turned to glower at his companion. Danilo had been uncharacteristically silent all the way to the Castle. He slumped now onto the narrow cot. The elf noticed he cradled one elbow in his hand. "Your arm has come free of the shoulder?"
"I think so," Danilo admitted. "Hard to tell, though. Everything hurts, and it's difficult to sort one thing from another."
"There is one sure way of finding out." Elaith seized the man's wrist and gave it a sharp, vicious tug.
Danilo let out a startled oath, then rolled his shoulder experimentally. "That worked," he said, surprised. "There isn't a better way?"
"Of course there is, but I'm of no mind to use it," the elf returned. "That cut on your arm needs attention. I can stitch it if you wish."
"With what? A fishhook?" Danilo retorted. "Thank you,
but I will await the healer." He paused. "You followed me. Why?"
Elaith considered what to say. The Dreamspheres were on the streets, sold to those who were likely to have knowledge that would aid the elf's chosen vendetta. He had picked up the dreams of one of these men, a hired sword who harbored a twisted desire to inflict pain on one of the city's privileged, wealthy men. Elaith had seen the man's mental image of his victim. Despite all that he had done, all that he was currently doing, Elaith could not allow a man he'd named Elf-friend to suffer this fate.
No, this was hardly the sort of explanation he could afford to give.
"Why were you following me?" persisted Danilo. "Morbid curiosity?" the elf suggested.
"Very amusing," Danilo said dryly. "How did you know where to find me?"
"Not a difficult thing. I assumed you would go to confront Regnet Amcathra, considering that you two are longtime friends."
The man sighed and slumped lower onto the cot. "Of that, I am not so certain. The attack outside his house, so soon after I challenged him about his involvement in Lilly's death? I do not want to think ill of Regnet, but I no longer know whom to trust."
Elaith was silent for a long moment. "I saw Myrna Cassalanter leave. She looked angry. She is not without resources."
"She did threaten Regnet and me," Danilo admitted. "I suppose it is possible that she sent those thugs, although to date Myrna has limited herself to assassinating character."
"It is possible she took aim at your character, but missed so small a target," Elaith suggested pleasantly.
Danilo sent him a wry look. "Is that any way to address an Elf-friend?"
Elaith thought of the Mhaorkiira Hadryad. He could almost feel the heat of it, even though the stone was hidden. He could feel the compelling, twisting magic of the thing, and he answered from the heart. "I am doing the best I can."
* *
In Arilyn's opinion, she had spent far more time in the company of Waterdeep's merchant nobility than any sane person should have to endure. Yet here she was, standing at the magic-blackened gate to the Eltorchul manor.
Isabeau was connected with the theft of the Dreamspheres. How, Arilyn was not certain. By her own admission, the woman had been involved with Oth. Errya Eltorchul had let slip that her brother had been doing business with Elaith Craulnober. Perhaps she would let slip something else that would enable Arilyn to start piecing together an answer.
However, Lady Errya was not receiving visitors. The servant made a point of sniffing at Arilyn's lack of a calling card, then slowly scanned the guest registry, glancing up from time to time as if to underscore the fact that the half-elf was not listed among those the family expected or wanted to receive.
After a few minutes of this, Arilyn lost patience. She shouldered past the servant and stalked through the halls in search of the noblewoman. The suddenly frantic servant followed close on her heels, imploring her to see reason.
That will do, Orwell," said a cold, female voice. "I will handle this."
Orwell then bowed deeply and hurried-off, clearly
glad to have shed himself of this responsibility.
For a long moment the two women faced each other in silence. "What do you want?" Errya Eltorchul demanded.
"Information," the half-elf replied.
The noblewoman gave a scornful little sniff. "Have you no sense of propriety at all, to come storming in, making demands of a family in grief?"
"That leads nicely to my first question," Arilyn said. "Why does no one know of Oth's death?"
"That is no business of yours," the woman retorted.
"The creatures that killed Oth have followed and attacked me. That makes this very much my business." She remembered Errya's words about the death of the first Lady Dezlentyr, and added, "Nor am I the only person of elven blood who has been attacked."
A sly, cold smile edged on the woman's beautiful face. "I find it hard to weep over this."
"Why's that?"
"Nothing good comes of mixing with elves. You provide proof of that!"
Arilyn ignored the insult. "Yet your brother did business with Elaith Craulnober."
The woman's gaze shifted to one side. "Did he?" she said vaguely.
"That's what you said when we brought word of your brother's fate. I'd like to know more."
Errya tossed her head, sending her flame-colored ringlets dancing with indignation. "Go ask him yourself. The elf, not Oth," she added hurriedly.
This struck Arilyn as an odd statement. "Maybe I'll do that."
The woman's strange, sly smile returned. "If you hurry, you should be able to find him in the Castle. Danilo as well, for that matter."
"The Castle?" Arilyn repeated, not understanding where this was going. The Castle of Waterdeep was an enormous structure that housed the city guard, the headquarters and barracks of the Watch, the armory, offices for city administrators, and a host of other practical functions, including ...
"The prisons," she concluded aloud, understanding the malicious delight dancing in Errya's green eyes. Anger and frustration washed through her at the realization that Danilo had ignored the warnings to stay away from the treacherous elf. "Both Elaith and Danilo? Since you seem to know so much, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"Didn't I
make myself clear?" the woman said with false sweetness. "That's what comes of associating with the wrong people. Now if you'll excuse me, you've been here rather too long. I have no interest in courting Beshaba's fancy," she said, naming the goddess of bad luck.
Arilyn noted the woman's animosity, but her attention was more on the contents of her own purse. As she left the Eltorchul manor, she mentally counted her coin and tallied whether or not she had enough to pay damage fees for both of the offenders. If not, she was not entirely certain which of the pair she would leave to languish in his cell!
* * * * *
As it turned out, Arilyn was not forced to make that choice. Elaith had left the Castle within the hour, but despite Danilo's arguing and bargaining, he had refused to carry word of Danilo's predicament to his steward. "You are safer where you are," was all that the elf would say.
Judging from the grim set of Arilyn's face, Danilo was inclined to agree with Elaith. She strode along at a pace Danilo was hard pressed to match.
"Consider it a new experience," he suggested. "How many times have you had to sign pledge for a prisoner in the castle?"
"Too many," she muttered. "But you may get a chance to return the favor. Myrna Cassalanter doesn't inspire
my better nature. I'm half hoping she'll come at me with a poker."
Danilo chuckled and slipped an arm around her waist, keeping it there until they reached Myrna's manor.
The maid ushered them into Myrna's presence and dropped her tray with a shriek. Her mistress was on her knees on the floor, both hands clutching at her throat. Her face was blue, and though her mouth worked frantically, no sound emerged.
Arilyn strode forward, reaching in her bag for the small vial she carried for just such occasions. She uncorked it with her teeth and spat out the cork, then seized the woman's chin and tilted her head back. She poured the liquid into the woman's mouth and held her head back until it ran down her throat.
Myrna slowly began to breathe normally. Her face turned a sickly green, and she rushed for the washstand.
She retched until she was as dry as the Anauroch, then wiped the tears from her streaming eyes. The look she cast upon her rescuers held more enmity than gratitude.
"Trying to clean up after your friend?" she croaked at Danilo.
He and Arilyn exchanged a puzzled glance. "I don't understand," he said.
"Elaith poisoned me. I'm sure of it! I have had dealings with him of late," Myrna admitted, her voice growing stronger. "Some openly, some hidden. Payment for some of the information came in the form of elven coin," she said defensively.
"What reason would he have to do such a thing?" Danilo demanded.
The woman sniffed. "You are a fool," she said. "Do you know nothing of what goes on around you?"
Arilyn's face clouded and she seemed about to speak, but Danilo made a subtle gesture warning her to silence.
The gossipmonger's words were too close to his own thoughts for comfort. What she had to say, he needed to hear. He took a small purse of gold from his bag and set it on the table.
"Go on," he said evenly.
For once the sight of gain had no effect on Myrna. She caught up the bag and threw it back at him. "This I will do gladly," she said vindictively. "Lady Cassandra did well to keep you from the family business—you, who dance attendance to the archmage and play about with Harpers! What would you do, Harper, if you knew that the days of the Thann family's presence in illegal trade were far from over? Your duty?" she mocked him.
"Be careful what rumors you repeat," Arilyn said softly.
"Rumors?" The woman laughed scornfully. "Half the bards in Waterdeep speak of him as a Harper. As to his family, he believes me. I see it in his face!"
"Not just Thann," Danilo said slowly. "There is much trade between Waterdeep and Skullport. It stands to reason that someone oversees that trade, someone who has the resources and the power to impose order on what would otherwise be lawless chaos."
"Huzzah!" Myrna applauded him mockingly. "He realized that his clan is not all powerful! Of course it's not just Thann. There are seven families, each with interests that are clearly defined and viciously protected. I will not name them, but surely you could come up with at least two of them."
"Eltorchul," Arilyn guessed, seeing Oth's death in this new light.
"Those potion-mixers and tinkers? Hardly!" Myrna cocked her bright head as she considered this. "Nonetheless, I would not rule out the possibility. The current struggle might make room for new faces-provided, of course, that those faces are not surmounted by pointed ears!" she added viciously.
Danilo began to follow her reasoning. "Elaith Craulnober has many concerns in this city, both above and below the streets."
"Huzzah again!" the woman said. "He is getting too ambitious, too powerful. The families have agreed to oust the elf lord."
"Yet you have had dealings with him," Arilyn pointed out.
Myrna smiled coyly. "Who is to say that I might not be behind some of these attempts?"
For a long moment no one answered. Arilyn stooped and picked up the empty vial. "To think I wasted a perfectly good antidote."
The noblewoman's face turned livid. "Mark me, you will not escape this. Do you think that the families are pleased with Danilo's relationship with Khelben Arunsun? With the Harpers? With a half-elf?"
She stopped and made a visible effort to calm herself. "I have said too much, and I will no doubt pay for it. But every word of it is truth. If you ask my opinion-and many people in this city do—you're both in deep and wild water, and neither of you will swim to shore."
By unspoken agreement, Danilo and Arilyn sought out the beauty and solitude of his elven garden. They did not speak until they stood at the edge of the serene pool, and for a long time they stared into the water as if it were a scrying bowl that could show them their next Course.
Danilo was of no mind for conversation. He still reeled from this revelation, which explained much, if not all, of the mystery surrounding recent events.
"Myrna Cassalanter is a spiteful woman," Arilyn said at last.
"I will not argue with that, but I daresay there is as much truth in her words as spite," he said. "Don't you agree?"
"Not completely. I doubt Elaith is responsible for poisoning Myrna."
Danilo looked at her in surprise. "Really."
"Elves seldom use poison. Elaith's methods, though twisted, are still elven."
"Twisted?" he prompted.
She told him her suspicions that Elaith killed the
broker down in Skullport in order to acquire the missing Dreamspheres. "The mark of an elven sword was unmistakable. One of the men had been dissolved into mist. Elaith is competent in magic, and he has a vast collection of magical weapons. It is the sort of thing he would do."
"But Myrna said she received payment in elven coin."
"What of it? That, more than anything, leads me to believe that Elaith is being set up. He isn't that stupid,"
"No, he isn't," Danilo agreed, "but that makes him all the more dangerous. He will not take kindly to this treatment. It's possible that some of the recent events are his vengeance against the noble families."
They considered this in silence. A courtesan was dead, and Simon Ilzimmer had been blamed. The death count did not end there: Belinda Gundwynd and her elven love. Oth Eltorchul.
Lilly.
"And this is the elf I am pledged to defend," Danilo said softly. "Once, he asked me to prove his innocence. I have to find the truth of this, no matter where it leads. I owe him that much, for the honor he once did me."
Arilyn nodded and started for the gate. "We might as well get on with it.
* * * * *
Isabeau waited until Arilyn and Danilo were well out of sight, then sailed up to the door of Myrna Cassalanter's mansion as if she were a regular visitor.
She found Myrna pale, but unusually calm. The reason for this, the woman explained, was her new diversion. She showed Isabeau a wooden box fill
ed with small crystal spheres.
Isabeau knew all about them-knew more than this silly woman could begin to suspect—but she listened with quiet contempt as Myrna spoke glowingly of using
purchased magic to live a fantasy.
She, Isabeau, was determined to carve out her own.
The Dreamspheres were not the way. She saw that now If they had already found their way into the homes of Waterdeep's wealthy and powerful, she had little hope of retrieving enough of them to turn a profit.
There was another way. Risky, certainly, but Isabeau saw in it her only chance.
She selected the largest, brightest globe from the box and took note of the greedy, territorial expression that leaped into Myrna's eye.
"I would like to try one of these wonders," Isabeau said. "Will you choose one for me?"
Myrna all but leaped for the powerful, expensive globe in her visitor's hands. "That one is for my own use. Any of these others you may have."
"We could perhaps share," Isabeau suggested. "You to your dream, and I mine? A pleasant respite to break up the day"
Her hostess nodded avidly. Once her guest was settled with a lesser magical dream, she took the powerful Dreamsphere for herself.
Isabeau waited until the woman was deep into the magical trance. She rose quietly to her feet and tipped the box of Dreamspheres into her pocket, Then she carefully unclasped the necklace from the entranced woman's neck and added it to her loot.
The larger and brighter the sphere, the longer and more powerful the dream. Isabeau had learned that much, but she took no chances. Moving as silently and swiftly as a dervish's ghost, she picked the chamber clean of any valuables and fled while the woman was still deep in her dream.
Isabeau had had no idea that gossipmongering paid so well—with the coins and jewels she had taken from this single theft, she could easily buy and bribe her way into distant Tethyr.
Elated at her success, she all but ran from the mansion and climbed into the waiting carriage. If the driver was surprised to hear that she wished to go directly to the South Gate, he did not state his opinion. An extra gold coin went a long way toward ensuring discretion. If she were careful, and lucky, she might yet make it safely to the southern lands.
The Dream Spheres Page 31