The Harper symbol.
* * * * *
The restless clouds parted, and in the fitful moonlight two figures edged along the side of the building. One moved confidently down the narrow ledge, the other clutched at the building and inched painfully behind.
"I take it you've done a lot of second-story work," Danilo murmured, clinging to the wall as he tried to keep up with the more agile half-elf.
"Some," Arilyn replied absently, intent on her goal.
"I just hope that this bard of yours left his window open," Danilo complained. "By the way, you can pick locks? Of course you can. Forget I asked. It's just that, well, if you have to pick open the window, you might just as well have done the door, which would have saved us the trouble of crawling across this wall like a couple of damned spiders-"
"Be still," Arilyn hissed, stifling a rising wave of anger. Once again she berated herself for being drawn to Danilo Thann. The man was endlessly frustrating. One moment he was a canny fighter, the next an understanding friend, the very next a worthless twit. The latter condition currently prevailed. If possible, Danilo was acting more scattered than usual, doubtlessly cowed by the attack upon his precious person. She should have left him behind to cower in that dismal room.
Arilyn edged around a gabled window, secure on her tiny foothold, but Danilo stumbled, arms windmilling as he teetered dangerously forward. The half-elf seized his cloak and pulled him back to safety.
"Careful," she snapped. "Are you sure Rhys Ravenwind will be in the end chamber?"
"Very," Danilo huffed, both hands clutching the wall as he peered down into the courtyard below. Although he strove for nonchalance, his voice was decidedly unsteady. "I asked the innkeeper for the King's Chamber-I usually stay there after partaking too freely, you see-and he informed me that the bard already had dibs. Imagine!"
They were nearing the end of the building. Arilyn gestured for silence and crept to the last window. It was open, and the half-elf dropped noiselessly into the room, sliding behind the heavy brocade drapes that flanked the window. There was no sound in the room, no sign of an intruder.
Holding her breath, Arilyn glided over to the bed and lay her fingers on the singer's neck. "Too late," she groaned softly. Danilo climbed unsteadily into the room and joined her.
"Dead?" he whispered. His face was unusually pale.
"Yes." She pointed to the brand on the bard's upturned palm. Rage poured through her veins like liquid fire. "I'm going to kill this monster," she vowed quietly.
"I don't doubt it, but not tonight," Danilo replied, taking her elbow. "We're getting out of here. Now."
Arilyn jerked away. "No! I'm too close."
"Exactly," Danilo said, his voice strained. "Too close for comfort, in my opinion. Look, maybe you're not afraid of this Harper Assassin, but I for one don't look good in blue." He held up his left palm so she could see the glowing blue brand. "Remember this?"
"You can leave any time," she replied.
Danilo ran his branded hand over his hair to pat the wind-tossed locks into place. The movement seemed to throw him off balance, for he grasped the bedpost to steady himself. "Leave? Nothing would make me happier than scampering off to safety," he retorted. "Did you ever pause to think that I might not be able to?"
Arilyn recoiled and looked him over sharply. "What are you talking about?"
"Me. I feel terrible."
"So do I. I knew Rhys Ravenwind from Suzail."
"No, that's not what I meant, although there's also that element. I feel terrible. Think," Danilo said, pointing to the dead bard. "What killed Rhys Ravenwind? Do you see blood? Signs of struggle?"
"Nothing," she admitted. "That's part of the problem. All die in sleep, unmarked but for-" Her eyes widened in realization. "Poison," she concluded in a grim whisper. "The brand is poisoned. The Harpers are not branded after their death, as we assumed. They're killed by a magic, poisoned brand."
"That would be my guess," Danilo agreed. "Neither you nor I are equipped to deal with a magic-wielding assassin, even if we should find him. Which I doubt we could."
Arilyn's eyes widened in comprehension. She grabbed Danilo's hand, staring down at it as if she could remove the brand by the sheer force of her will. "Oh gods, then you've been poisoned, too. Why are we standing here? Are you all right?"
He shrugged away her concern. "I think I'll live. You interrupted the assassin before I got much of the poison, but I'm starting to feel a little shaky."
"The roof," she said, remembering Danilo's near fall.
"That's when I figured it out," he admitted with a weak grin. "I've been in and out of windows often enough to have developed excellent balance. I might be a tad rusty, but not that bad. My little stumble made the pieces fit." His voice suddenly hardened. "But that's neither here nor there. You got me into this, you nearly got me killed-again, I might add-and you're going to take me somewhere safe. Now."
Arilyn nodded curtly, frustrated by the assassin's nearness but equally worried about Danilo. Despite his protestations, the young noble did look rather pale. At the rate he was going, he'd never get out of the inn on his own.
"Come on," she said, then added dryly, "Under the circumstances, perhaps we should take the door."
"Oh," he said, turning back from the window. "Good thinking."
Arilyn glanced at the magic sack that hung from Danilo's belt and remembered the spellbook he carried. She didn't like using magic, but she saw no other recourse. "By any chance, do you know the spell for invisibility?"
"No, but if you'll hum a few bars I'll try to fake it," Danilo responded in a slightly dazed tone.
Startled, Arilyn stared at him with open concern. "You must have gotten more poison than we thought. That jest was ancient in the days of Myth Drannor."
The dandy responded with a weak grin. He held up the spell components and motioned Arilyn to his side. "At the moment, I don't feel so young myself. Let's get out of here."
* * * * *
Within minutes, an invisible Arilyn and Danilo were quietly headed northwest toward the Castle Ward, to the home of the adventurer Loene. It was the safest place Arilyn could think of. Loene's townhome on Waterdeep Way was a veritable fortress, within sight's distance of the guards stationed at Waterdeep Castle. Still, remembering the trail of death that lay behind her, Arilyn hated involving the woman. She did not wish to lead the assassin to Loene's door.
The half-elf felt she had little choice. Danilo's energy had been sorely tasked by casting the spell of invisibility over them and again over their horses, and he seemed to be growing weaker by the moment. She feared that if he lost consciousness, she would never be able to rouse him. Perhaps if she kept him talking? How difficult could that be?
"Are you sure that the innkeeper will not suspect us of the bard's death?" she asked in a whisper.
Danilo nodded his head, an effort that almost tipped him from his horse.
"Why's that?" Arilyn prompted, reaching out and pushing the noble upright in his saddle.
"I left a magical illusion in our room," he muttered. "Before we left to check on the bard. Just in case, you know."
"Oh?"
The shadow of a smirk crossed the dandy's face. "The maid will see a large empty zzar bottle on the table, and two sleeping figures entwined on the cot," he said in a faint voice. "Sated and snoring."
Arilyn's head slumped in resignation. "Bearing a remarkable resemblance to you and me, I suppose."
"Naturally. The illusion will hold until mid-morning. The bard's body will be found before then."
Arilyn had to admire his solution, however twisted. "No wonder you stumbled on the ledge. Casting such a spell must have taken a great deal of energy."
"Yes, but it was fun," he muttered, again slumping dangerously to one side. Arilyn's arm shot out to steady him.
"Hang on just a little longer," she urged. "Loene's house is around the corner. See that huge elm up ahead? It's in the courtyard behind her house."
"Good. I don't
feel so well."
Loene's mansion resembled a miniature castle, complete with towers and turrets. It was surrounded by an ornate iron fence as decorative as it was impenetrable. We'll be safe here, Arilyn thought. She quickly dismounted at the gate, helped Danilo from his horse, and draped one of his arms over her shoulders. He leaned heavily on her as she tied the reins of their invisible mounts to the iron fence, then worked the lock free with a small knife.
"Break and enter often?" the dandy mumbled as he watched her deft movements. "What now? Do they fireball us or call the watch?"
"Neither. No problem. Loene knows me. We'll be fine," Arilyn assured him, speaking with more confidence than she felt.
She and Danilo were still invisible, and that could prove a problem. It was hard to convince someone of your integrity if he couldn't look you in the eye, and she wasn't about to let Danilo squander his waning strength to dispel the magic.
Arilyn half-dragged Danilo up the walk. Raising the knocker, she tapped it briskly, using the code taught her by Nain Keenwhistler, a member of the adventuring party known as the Company of Crazed Venturers. The code would certainly be recognized in this household: Loene had been rescued from slavery by Nain, and for many years she had run with the Crazed Venturers.
The door cracked open. "Yes?"
The raspy tones identified the speaker as Elliot Graves, Loene's servant. No other voice could sound both so pompous and so whisky-soaked. "It's me, Graves. Arilyn Moonblade."
"Where?" The door opened wider, and a thin, wary face peered past into the courtyard. Arilyn didn't doubt that Graves had his mace handy. He was as skilled a fighter as he was a chef, and he didn't look at all pleased that anyone had breached the walled court.
"I'm right here, Graves, only invisible. I've got a friend with me, and he's badly wounded. Please let us in."
The urgency in her voice convinced the servant. "One at a time," he said, opening the door just wide enough for one person to edge through.
Arilyn pushed Danilo before her. He fell face down onto the ornate Calimshite carpet. "That's one," the prone noble observed in a drunken tone.
The half-elf brushed past Graves and knelt by the fallen man. Sensing Arilyn pass, the servant slammed and bolted the door behind her.
"What's all this?" an imperious voice demanded.
Arilyn looked up. Loene was poised on the stairway, wrapped in night robes of pale gold silk and holding a jeweled dagger in each hand. The woman's dark blond hair hung free in a wild mop about her shoulders, and her large hazel eyes darted about the empty hall. Once enslaved as a "pleasure girl" for her exquisite face and form, Loene had become a skilled fighter and adventurer. In middle life, the woman was still both beautiful and deadly. She had the tawny grace of a desert cat, and at the moment she looked every bit as dangerous.
The words tumbled out. "It's Arilyn Moonblade. I've got a friend with me. He's been poisoned."
"Get my potion case," Loene instructed the servant, not taking her eyes from the hall carpet. Graves melted away, still holding his mace at the ready.
"Well, well. Arilyn Moonblade. Since when did you start resorting to invisibility spells?" Loene asked, descending the stairs with catlike grace. She lay down her jeweled weapons on a marble-topped table at the foot of the stairs.
"It wasn't my first choice."
"I'll bet." Loene agreed dryly. The woman twisted the magic ring on her hand, murmuring the command that would dispel Danilo's enchantment. As she did, two outlines appeared on the expensive carpet, gradually filling in until they took the form of a large, prone man and a half-elven adventurer. Loene's lovely, curious eyes met Arilyn's. "Ah. There you are. You look terrible, by the way."
She came forward and crouched at Arilyn's side, touching henna-tipped fingers to the fallen man's pulse. "It's strong and regular. His color is good, his breathing regular. What happened to him? Poison, you said?"
"It's a long story," Arilyn said tersely, her anxious gaze fixed on her companion.
"Hmmm. I can't wait to hear it. Oh, thank you, Graves," Loene said, accepting a box from the servant. "Just who is your friend?"
"Danilo Thann."
"Dan-" Loene's incredulous echo broke off into derisive laughter. "Girl, you picked a strange time to start trusting magic-users. His drawing room tricks misfire more often than Shou rockets. Oof. And he's heavy. Give me a hand here."
The two adventurers managed to roll the young nobleman over. Loene gently lifted one eyelid, then the other. After a moment's speculation, she selected a small blue vial from the box of potions and handed it to Arilyn. "An antidote," Loene said. "Very rare. Works amazingly fast."
The half-elf quickly uncorked the vial, raised Danilo's head, and held the potion to his lips. His eyes flickered open.
"Pretend it's rivengut," Arilyn advised him with a touch of grim humor.
The mention of his favorite libation rallied Danilo sufficiently to sip some of the potion. Somewhat revived, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked around the hall.
"I feel better," he announced, sounding surprised.
"You're sure?" Arilyn pressed.
"Almost as good as new," he promised, surreptitiously showing her his palm. The brand had faded noticeably. Arilyn's shoulders sagged in relief.
Loene sat back on her heels, a speculative smile playing about her lips as she watched the scene before her. She'd known Arilyn for years, and never had she seen the half-elf so rattled. No potion or antidote worked so quickly-Arilyn should have known that-and her usually sharp elven senses should have caught the scent of the apricot brandy that was the vial's only ingredient.
Ah, but there's a story here, Loene thought. If she were to admit to a weakness, it would be her inordinate fondness for interesting and unusual tales. An unexpected bounty had been delivered to her door this night. "I suppose explanations must wait for morning," she said, her voice tinged with regret. "Graves, would you see our guests to their beds?"
"One bed," Arilyn corrected.
"I say. That might be expecting a bit much from the healing potion," Danilo warned her.
Arilyn shot him a look that would have frozen a wiser man, then turned away. "With your permission, Loene, I'll leave Danilo in your care. I must attend to urgent business."
Loene stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Forget it, elf. Of course I'll keep your friend until he can travel," she huffed, "but just you try to leave without telling me what's going on and I'll nail your blue hide to the wall."
Arilyn rose with a sigh of resignation. "All right. At this point, I don't suppose a short delay can hurt too much. You'd better break out the sherry and plan to sit for a while."
"I keep a full bottle on hand, just in case you decide to make one of these impromptu visits," Loene purred, smiling with satisfaction. "See to our other guest, won't you, Graves?"
"As you wish, madame."
The woman and the half-elf linked arms and headed into Loene's study to exchange tales of adventure.
Danilo sat crosslegged on the carpet, watching them go. He noted with a purely personal satisfaction that Arilyn shot a final, concerned look back at him before she left the room. A pointedly cleared throat captured his attention, and he looked up at the servant. The mace still hung at the man's belt, a jarring note amid the elegant furnishings of the entrance hall.
"If you think you can walk, sir, I'll see you to your room," the servant said. When Danilo nodded, Graves bent down and plucked the nobleman from the carpet, none too gently.
Danilo took the servant's arm, making a show of leaning on him as they walked slowly up the stairs. A pair of giant black mastiffs followed them, eyeing Danilo with wary interest. The nobleman fleetingly hoped that the dogs were well fed. He noted that the wiry servant was surprisingly strong, and that the man's raspy, whiskey-drenched voice and eyes the color of cold steel seemed more suited to the battlefield than the Castle Ward. It was a reassuring observation, and Danilo suddenly felt a little better about what he h
ad to do. If he had to leave Arilyn for a time, at least she would be well protected.
The dandy let Graves lead him into a richly appointed guest room and lower him into a chair. "Is there anything else that sir requires?" the servant asked coolly.
"Sleep should do it," Danilo assured him. "That was a dandy potion, really."
"Very good, sir." The servant closed the door firmly behind him.
Danilo listened until the servant's footsteps died away. When all was silent, he rose, reaching into the magic bag at his waist. He took from it his spellbook and a length of rope. He quickly studied the runes on one of the pages, memorizing the complex spell he had to cast. Finally satisfied, he slipped the spellbook back into this bag.
Not a trace of his lethargy remained. The effects of the assassin's poison had faded long before they'd reached Loene's house, although Danilo had maintained a facade of weakness in order to get Arilyn out of the inn and away from an assassin who could disappear from a locked room.
He threw open a window, secured the rope to a bedpost, and lowered himself to the courtyard. After his experience on the ledge of the inn, he was not about to attempt a levitation spell from a second-story window, antidote or not. By the way, Danilo mused, I must find out what was in that concoction. It was quite tasty.
He reached into his sack for the spell components and went through the complex patterns of gestures and chants. After rising into the night and over the wall, he floated down, featherlike, to the street beyond. At last, quietly, he strode to the front of the house and dispelled the enchantment that made his horse invisible.
The edge of the night sky was just beginning to fade to silver when Danilo started west on Waterdeep Way. Just down the street, a few contented patrons were leaving Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure and Healing, a combination festhall and spa that was very plush and very popular. That was a sure sign that morning was near.
Danilo Thann gave his horse's reins a sharp shake, and he rode quickly toward nearby Blackstaff Tower.
Ten
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