Elminster's Daughter

A small, bright, and airy turret thrusts up from one corner of the Palace of the Purple Dragon in Suzail: a lone chamber whose four windows are open arches that breezes blow through at will but no bird nor raindrop enters.

The door that links that turret room to a corner of the top floor of the Palace stands open-and guarded by four veteran Purple Dragons-at all times. The turret had for some years been an abandoned dovecote before the coming of Caladnei but was now a place much used by the Mage Royal to think and pace and gaze out over courtyard and gardens, and think some more.

Caladnei of Cormyr (as she pointedly preferred to be spoken of) often teleported into and out of her turret room-but she'd never been known to do so in the company of anyone else before, and the guards were quite startled to suddenly hear the deep, hearty laugh of a fearless old man from behind them.

They whirled around, spearpoints glittering, and gaped at what they saw: the Mage Royal embracing a hawk-nosed, white-bearded old man in dirty robes. Caladnei was weeping softly, and the old wizard-whom more than one of the old warriors had seen before-cradled her shoulders with a protective arm, saying softly, "There, there, lass. 'Tis overwhelming, aye, but a sight all mages should see in their lives before they've too much time to do foolish things unmindful of the glory we all share."

"Uh . . . Lady Caladnei?" one of the guards asked uncertainly, lifting his spear to menace the old man.

"Lord Elminster!" the eldest of the guards said delightedly, clapping a hand to his breastplate in salute. The gesture was echoed by the guard beside him, as the other two Purple Dragons turned to gape at their fellows . . . then turned back in horrified slowness to gaze at the old man they were menacing.

Bright blue eyes gazed at them from under dark brows, and the Old Mage nodded, winked, and lifted a finger to his lips to request their silence ere gesturing down at the sobbing woman in his arms. The two guards who'd saluted him nodded and pushed aside the spears of their fellows, silently withdrawing a pace. Elminster gave them an approving nod.

"T-thank you, Lord Elm-"

"El, please, lass. Just 'El.' Or 'Old Mage' if ye want to scold me." He took hold of the Mage Royal's slender shoulders and stood her back a pace, to look gravely into her tear-bright face. "How do ye feel?"

Caladnei managed a smile, and then swiftly looked away . . . then, deliberately, back up at him.

"Sobered. Shaken. And, may I say, vastly more respectful of you and of Vangerdahast, too, damn him. I … thank you. That was . . . magnificent."

"Much to think upon, eh?" Elminster reached out two long fingers to touch her forehead. "This much I can do: make sure nothing fades of this. Ye'll remember everything we saw, vividly, whenever ye call it to mind. This shall be with ye always."

Caladnei shook her head wonderingly. "What a … a …"

Elminster chuckled. "Storm called it a 'whirlwind tour,' but I've shown ye but a handful of highlights from all this vast and wonderful world of ours. 'Twas time for ye. Ye needed it to set in perspective this fair land ye guard and to temper thy rage with Vangey. Know ye this: When I took him to see the same things, he wept even more than ye have, begged forgiveness for his rudenesses, and told me he was shamed."

"I-I feel I should do the same," Caladnei said with an unsteady laugh, ducking her head and looking up at him again.

Elminster recoiled. "What? And rob thyself of the chance to get in some really good rudenesses to me, first?"

The sorceress burst into startled laughter and clung to the old man's robes for support. He hugged her fondly then-the eyes of the watching Purple Dragons narrowed-reached down to his belt, fishing around in a pouch there for something.

Cormyrean hands clapped dagger-hilts, tightened, and . . . fell away unneeded, as Elminster's hand reappeared holding a length of fine chain. He held it out where the Mage Royal could see it, waited for her to notice it, and said gruffly, "Yours, lass. An anklet. Nothing valuable, but-wear it. Now and always. If ye feel the need, and say the word 'amulamystra' while wearing it, I will come."

Wondering, Caladnei closed her hand around the delicate chain. The Old Mage bent his head and bestowed a fatherly kiss on the top of hers.

Then her arms were empty and she was staggering forward off-balance across a turret room that held no Elminster of Shad-owdale. Caladnei looked around wildly and beheld only the four guards, staring at her.

She gave them a rueful half-smile like a child caught doing something naughty, and the guards drew themselves to attention and saluted. The eldest said politely, "Lady Mage, we've been requested to inform you that the Lady Laspeera, the High-knight Rhauligan, and a captive await you in the Dragonwing Chamber."

Caladnei drew herself up, suddenly every inch the brisk Mage Royal they knew so well, and snapped, "I thank you." She smiled like a young lass again, bent over and drew off her right boot, and clasped the chain around her ankle.

"Looks good," a guard said gruffly-then turned as swift as any whiplash to face away from her, at stiff attention. His fellows sprang to join him in the maneuver, so when Caladnei straightened, she'd have no idea which one of them had spoken.

She grinned at all four armored backs, parted two of them with firm hands, and murmured, "Old lechers," as she strode between them and marched off down the hall.

The guards saluted her in silent unison and went back to guarding the open door.

* * * * *

Roablar of Lantan sat back and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses pinched-then rubbing the eyes behind them for good measure.

The everpresent hovering monk bent over the merchant. "Is there anything you're not finding, goodsir?"

"Ah," Thaerabho murmured, to the Keeper of that particular reading-room in Candlekeep. "It begins. Tis time for an unmasking."

Silent in his soft slippers, he started to move purposefully toward the seated Lantanna.

"You can see what I'm seeking," the disguised Lady Noumea Cardellith told her escort.

The tall, pockmarked monk ran a hand through his unruly, strawlike hair, bent closer, and replied in a low voice, "All you can about the Red Wizards of Thay, in particular recent writings. If you've come to Candlekeep in search of their spells, I fear you've wasted your journey. We keep those secure for very good reasons."

Without regarding them, Noumea was well aware that several monks were silently drawing in around her. She smiled thinly.

"No, Esmer. What would a merchant of Lantan want with spells? I live and die by trade, and 'tis this new policy of establishing Thayan trade enclaves and who in the Thayan hierarchy is behind it that I seek to learn all about."

"I realize this is overbold, and you must feel perfectly comfortable in refusing to answer," an unfamiliar monk murmured from her other side, "but why?"

Noumea looked up and gave him a smile.

"If we're being so blunt: I suspect this is but the first step in an elaborate plan to economically and then-covertly-politically dominate all realms of Faerun."

"Of course," two of the monks said together, and at least another three in the ring that had silently formed around her nodded.

"Wherefore my fascination with recent reports and writings," Noumea added, indicating the sheafs of parchment and stacked volumes on the slightly sloped reading-desk before her.

"I sense you're both well-traveled and worldly," a monk said from directly behind her. "Permit me, then, to mention something not to be found in these written records but only in the diaries we compile of the news and rumor that comes daily to our gates."

"Please do," Noumea said politely, shifting slightly and indicating the bench beside her. The monks smiled as if she'd passed some sort of test, and the monk who'd spoken from behind her stepped forward and sat down so close beside her that his robe almost brushed her hip. A white, puckered old sword-scar adorned one of his cheeks diagonally, and his hair was as gray as a sword in need of polishing.

"I'm Thaerabho," he said with a smile, "and my field is the doings of those who wield magic in Faerun outside temples and priesthoods. You've heard of the Chosen of Mystra?"

Noumea nodded eagerly, and Thaerabho's smile broadened.

"Then let me share this much: Some among them have been working against the Red Wizards in a lovely manner. With spells they 'twist' many of the portals established by the Thayans in their enclaves so those who use such translocations can have spells stolen from their minds en route, suggestions planted, memories and information 'read,' and so on."

"Sweet Mystra," Noumea whispered, genuinely awed.

Thaerabho nodded. "If the Thayans ever grow too strong in a particular place, if I may speak cynically, the portal in that spot-or all of them, along with, of course, whoever's using them at the time-could explode. Or perhaps a suggestion planted in the heads of all mages who've ever used one of the Thayan portals could be awakened, all at once, all over Faerun … a suggestion, say, to rush to a particular Thayan city and attack Szass Tarn or some other zulkir there, before he accomplishes some dread goal that will sacrifice them."

Noumea shook her head and asked softly, "What if I am of Thay or of the Chosen and want no one in Faerun to suspect any of this?"

The monk whose nose was almost brushing her own replied, "No, Lady Noumea Cardellith, you are of neither-and are not a Harper, either. You're but a seeker after knowledge, and we arm all who come here with the weapons of fact and lore and reason-sorted rumor. What they do with such tools after they depart is not our affair. We but seek to arm those wise-or cunning- enough to come asking and looking."

"Who are you?" a shaken Noumea whispered.

The ring of monks smiled.

"Simple folk of Faerun who love old books, and learning, and reading the thoughts and hopes and records of beings now dust," Esmer replied.

Noumea looked around at them all and shook her head. "I think you're among the most powerful and dangerous forces on all Toril."

The monks stopped smiling.

"That, too," Thaerabho agreed lightly. "Knowing that, what will you do now, Lady Noumea Cardellith, sometime mage and unhappy wife?" More monks were in the reading-room now, drifting toward her from all sides.

Noumea stared at him for a long time, ignoring the silent assembly of monks and the rods some of them held ready then lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I … don't know."

The ring-wall of monks seemed to relax, and a few drifted away again. Thaerabho's smile returned.

"Ah, the truth. The right answer to give us, always."

Noumea stared into his hazel eyes for a long time then drew in a deep breath and asked, "What do you think I should do?"

"Ah," the sword-scarred monk responded eagerly, as several of the closest monks drew in around her again, reaching in under the great reading-desk to unclip folded wooden stools from its underside, and sitting down on them. "Now you've done the next right thing. We'll not tell you what to do next. We never do. We shall, however, tell you all we can to help you decide where to go from here in life."

Lady Noumea blinked at him. "Why didn't I come here years ago?"

"Why indeed?"

* * * * *

As the guards swung the great doors open for her, the Mage Royal of Cormyr looked in and up at the carved stone dragons frozen forever in the act of erupting from the ceiling of the room ahead of her. The scene was as magnificent as always, all scales, surging strength, and great sweeping curves of wings, catlike and serpentine both at once.

She found herself on the verge of tears again, and almost fondly muttered, "Damn you, Old Mage," as she entered the Dragonwing Chamber alone.

Three people stood in the center of its vast, empty polished floor awaiting her: Laspeera, Rhauligan, and the thief who'd fled from the cellars, captured at last. Narna Shalace.

Rhauligan was shrugging himself back into his vest, his belt still unbuckled at his waist. Caladnei smiled thinly. She must have led him a merry chase. The spell-thrall holding her now would be Speera's work.

She gave Laspeera and Rhauligan nods of thanks and approached their paralyzed but unbound captive, banishing Laspeera's magic as she came. "So we meet again, Narnra of Waterdeep," she began pleasantly.

The thief, who'd bent over to busily rub hands and ankles, shaking out her limbs as if her body felt unfamiliar to her, did not reply.

"Narnra," Caladnei continued, "you stand in the Palace of the Purple Dragon in Suzail, in the realm of Cormyr. As such, you're utterly within my power. Should not mere prudence lead you to some measure of polite cooperation, whatever your personal feelings toward us?"

The thief straightened up to give Caladnei a cold, considering look then glanced over at Laspeera and Rhauligan. They gazed patiently back at her, faces impassive.

Narnra tossed her head and glared at Caladnei. "You have an audience for your grand speeches," she said, nodding at the man who'd captured her and the woman whose spell had paralyzed her. "What d'you want of me?"

"Answers. A few civil, honest, and generous-with-what-you-know answers," the Mage Royal replied.

Narnra sighed. "I can't think what precious things I might know that could possibly be of any use to you. You're not planning to become the terror of purses in Trades Ward, are you?"

"No," Caladnei replied in a dry voice. "There! You see? An answer, and so easily and swiftly given, too. Try it for a short time, do well at it-and you'll be free to go."

"Go where?" Narnra snarled. "Out into the streets of your city, to starve? Or be pounced on by the next of your soldiers who doesn't like the look of me? 'Oh, sir, I'm just a thief from Water-deep-that's right, a thief-and I've just been talking with your Mage Royal, and she'-oh, aye, I'm sure they'll believe me!"

"Do you love Waterdeep so much?"

"What? Is this one of your questions? Could you not have found a traveling merchant, and ask-"

"Do you love Waterdeep so much?"

Narnra flung up her hands. "I know Waterdeep," she snarled. " 'Tis my home, the only place I know, where I know how to get something to eat, where . . ."

She fell silent, eyes narrowing.

Caladnei was smiling. "You see? Honest answers are not so hard, once you begin. Do it twice or thrice, and you'll have found the habit."

Narnra gave her a dark look and hugged herself as if she were cold. "Wizards are so clever," she muttered. "I sometimes wonder how better off we'd all be without them."

That earned her wry smiles from all three Cormyreans, and Caladnei's voice was almost gentle as she asked, "Have you many friends in Waterdeep, with whom you talk? Share gossip with?"

Narnra hunched her head down and said nothing.

The Mage Royal frowned. "Enough of this," she murmured. '"Time-and past time-for enforced truth." She muttered an incantation and traced a pattern with her fingertips.

There was a sudden flash of blue-white fire, and she drew her head back as if burned. "She's protected," Caladnei murmured, and cast a glance at Laspeera.

Who shrugged and asked softly, "Elminster?" as she raised her own hands and worked the same spell.

Seven blue-white stars flashed and spun very briefly around the young Waterdhavian, who seemed in a trance.

"Mystra," the Mage Royal whispered and looked at Laspeera again, almost helplessly this time.

The older War Wizard gave her another shrug. "So try the hard way, Gala. We can only try spells as they seem necessary . . . and see."

Caladnei nodded unhappily, drew in a deep breath, glanced at Rhauligan-who smiled grimly and gave her a nod of approval, and asked, "Narnra? How do you hear the news merchants bring, when they come to Waterdeep in their caravans? Do local wits cry news aloud in taverns in return for coins?"

Silence.

"Narnra?"

The thief's reply was to burst into a sudden sprint toward Caladnei, dodging twice. The Mage Royal flung up a hand to signal Rhauligan-who was already moving-to keep clear and worked a swift, muttered spell.

One blue-white star, whirling away . . . and winking out.

Narnra plucked for a dagger to hurl and ruin the casting but found her sheath empty and instead tried to duck around Caladnei-who politely stepped aside.

"The door," the sorceress told the hard-running thief firmly, "is not an option."

Narnra put her head down, growled, and ran. Invisible fingers were already plucking at her, and she knew that with two wizards of Cormyr in the room, her attempt at escape was doomed, yet. . . yet what else could she do?

She was running in midair, now, treading hard on nothing at all, as she floated backward toward where she'd been. She knew how comical she must look yet kept on running. Spells were mind-tiring-everyone knew that-and this Caladnei would have to set her back down sooner or later. If she was already moving fast and got a little lucky, she could-just mayhap-manage t-

"Narnra, answer me: How do you hear news and gossip in Waterdeep?"

Narnra spat out a wordless snarl of rising frustration and kept right on running.

"Narnra?"

"Drown you, mage! Blast and burn and rot you! I don't care about your questions or your nasty little plots or the oh-so-fair kingdom of Cormyr! Just let me go!"

"To steal in our streets," Caladnei said softly. "I think not."

"Perhaps worse than that," Rhauligan put in, holding up a handful of Narnra's daggers. At the sight of them the Waterdhavian shrieked in rage and darted a hand down the front of her breeches, to pluck forth a tiny knife from a sheath over her most private of places, and hurl it furiously at him.

Rhauligan sprang sideways, for her throw had been well-aimed-and Caladnei's mouth drew into a hard line.

The next thing Narnra knew, she was greeting the far wall of the chamber, hard enough to slam the breath out of her. She struggled, sobbing for air, and found herself pinned firmly against the dark paneling by nothing she could see at all.

Another blue-white star, winking and dying . . .

"How do you hear news and gossip in Waterdeep?" the Mage Royal asked again. Her magic relaxed just enough to let Narnra breathe, and the thief gulped in great shuddering lungfuls of air.

"Narnra?"

"Wizard, can't you tell I don't care about any of this? Go mount a dragon somewhere, and leave me be!"

"Narnra-"

"Caladnei," the Waterdhavian mimicked, in exactly the same tone the Mage Royal had used, "go stuff yourself. If you please."

The Mage Royal's magic thrust Narna back against the wall again, pressing so hard on her that she couldn't lift her ribs to draw breath. She fought silently, twisting and writhing on the paneling, until all too soon the world started to go dim, and drift___

The force eased, letting her gasp for air again. Narnra stared over the heads of her tormentors and panted, drawing in precious air.

In chill shadow, a blue-white star goes out. . . .

"Sweet wind," she murmured, quoting a Waterdhavian harbor song.

"What's that?" Caladnei asked sharply.

"Sweet wind, come again," Narnra recited the line between gasps, eyes meeting those of the Mage Royal. "Blow me away, far beyond pain."

The Mage Royal took a step closer, and Narnra noticed with surprise that she'd been crying. Recently. "Narna, please tell me this," she said softly. "How do you get to know rumors and what happens, all over Waterdeep and in Faerun all around?"

"Caladnei," Narnra replied, just as softly, "I keep my mouth shut and my ears open. Even when tyrant mages slam me about with their spells."

In the sudden thunder of unseen force that plucked her from the wall then slammed her back against it again hard enough to rattle her bones and her back teeth, Narnra thought she heard Rhauligan make the briefest of chuckles.

Forlorn and drifting, another star flickers. . . and goes out.. . .

"Even then?" Caladnei asked softly. "How stubborn, thief, are you?"

Her magic snatched Narnra from the wall and slammed her back against it again, hard enough to make a wood panel groan in protest. Narnra's limbs bounced helplessly against the wood. She whined like a dog for breath, fighting against the building pressure.

Silently, a fifth blue-white star flares-and is gone. . . .

Harder and harder the magic pressed her-only to relax when she was once more on the shuddering edge of sinking into insensibility and let her cough and choke and groan for breath.

"How, when in Waterdeep, do you get to hear gossip and news from afar?" Caladnei asked calmly.

Narnra shook her head. The Mage Royal repeated the question, and the Silken Shadow snapped, "Away, mage! Go and batter-bruise someone else! Kick a guard, slap a child, whatever pleases you!"

The magic slammed her against the chamber wall and pinned her once more, twice more, a third time.

Another star fading . . . leaving but one a-twinkle.

Caladnei repeated her last question in the same precise words every time she let Narnra breathe.

The last star wavers, trembles in the darkness . . . and winks out. . . .

At Caladnei's fourth patient repetition, Narnra replied sullenly, "I listen at windows and to folk muttering in alleys. I lie on rooftops hearing merchants plot and scheme-how else can I learn where they'll be, and their precious money?"

"Taverns, too?"

"When I'm thirsty and make it to South Ward or the docks, never my home streets."

"Nobles' windows?"

"Never. Too dangerous. Why walk there when I can hear more idling beside a street-seller unloading food after the highsun rush? Nobles are all high wind and preening, anyway, every third word a lie to impress or manipulate."

"This is much easier, Narnra. Thank you. I'll see that you get plenty to eat and drink when we're done. Now tell me: In all this daily chatter, do you ever hear talk of Cormyr?"

"No. I think I heard the name of your land a few times when merchants were talking hopeful prices. Sembia-mainly they talk about Sembians buying all the lace and jewels and scent-oils. . . ."

"More coins in Sembia," the Mage Royal agreed, almost soothingly.

There was other magic at work, now, across the room. Laspeera was casting something long and exacting. Narnra sighed and looked away from the woman, discovered she didn't want to look at Rhauligan's faintly smiling face just now, and brought her gaze back to Caladnei, who was just beginning another question.

"Wait," Narnra interrupted swiftly, "why don't you tell me one? What spell's she putting on me?" From the wall where she was still-lightly-held, she nodded toward Laspeera.

"One that will read the truth-or lack of it-in your words. It does no harm."

Narnra's dark eyes flamed for a moment. "And when you're done squeezing all the truth out of me? Will I be allowed to go on breathing then?"

"Narnra Shalace, know this: 'Tis not my habit to murder out-landers in the Royal Palace of Cormyr-or anywhere else, for that matter. Those who manage to refrain from hurling daggers at me or my fellow loyal Cormyreans, at least. So you tell me now, d'you belong to any guilds, brotherhoods, secret societies, trading costers, temple agent orders, nobles' 'fellowships' … or any other organization I've forgotten to list?"

"No. And I was never part of that conspiracy in the cellars."

"Have you any living kin? Friends? Particular foes?"

"No. Thrice no."

"Have you any outstanding debts, or agreements that bind you?"

"Nay."

"Are you under any threat at this time, facing reprisals if you do or don't do a certain thing?"

"No. Present company excepted."

"Fair enough. Why're you here in Cormyr?"

"Mischance and magic-and being too curious. I followed a wizard who spared my life. I knew not where 'here' was until after I arrived."

"What d'you lack most in life, beyond fame, high birth, and enough coins to do just as you please?"

"My freedom," Narnra snapped. "What answer did you expect?"

"If you were free and we'd never seen you and you were wandering Marsember unnoticed right now . . . what would matter most to you, if I met you, showed you I could slay you with magic on a whim, and asked you how you wanted to spend the rest of your life?"

Narnra smiled bitterly. "Getting away alive would matter most."

Caladnei sighed. "Could we move past fencing with tongues, Narnra? I've better things to do than hold you against the wall all day."

The Waterdhavian drew in a deep breath, eyed her captor, and said, "Mage Royal, I just want to get rich without working-unusual that, hey?-and to spend my days being free to do and go as I will-stealing what I can and doing just as I please."

"Sounds like several noble ladies of Sembia I've met," Laspeera muttered, an offering that earned her a silent 'Later' look from Caladnei.

The Mage Royal turned back to Narnra, relaxing her spell to let the thief down off the wall onto her feet again. "Let's end this all the sooner, if you're willing. Narnra, I think I know enough about who you are now. Now, I'd like very much to learn all you know, suspect, or have overheard as rumors in Waterdeep of any campaign to overthrow the Obarskyrs."

"The who? Oh … the ruling family here, hey?" Narnra looked at Laspeera then pointed to her own forehead. "Vouch for me in this, yes?" She turned and met Caladnei's eyes, and the moment she was staring into them said slowly and firmly, "Not… a … thing. I've heard nothing at all about anything political in Cormyr. Nothing until I got here, and all that Rightful Conspiracy gabble in the cellars-and I'm still not sure exactly what it was about. Discontent with the Crown, yes, but-" She shrugged.

"Keep to Waterdeep, Narnra. Purchases of swords, or the hire of warriors? Backed by merchants or nobles of Waterdeep? War-horses? Hedge-wizards being hired for trips overland? The places might not be in Cormyr; they could be Westgate, or Saerloon and Selgaunt in Sembia, or Athkatla … or Iriaebor."

Narnra shook her head. "No, Mage Royal, I swear to you, nothing like that. A few horses and wagons between one merchant and another, yes, but nothing that could mean war-and no huge chests full of coins setting off anywhere, either. Not that anyone in Waterdeep would be fool enough to let word get around about something like that, anyway."

"Truth, Gala," Laspeera said softly. "Utter truth."

The Mage Royal smiled and nodded. "Well enough. We had to be sure." She took another step closer and asked quietly, "Do you know any magic, Narnra? How to cast spells?"

"No. If I did, would I be . . ." Narnra let her voice trail off instead of asking something bitter.

"I'm sorry, Narnra. Is the body we can see now your true shape?"

"Yes," Narnra replied, taken aback. "How could it not be?"

"How indeed." Caladnei did not take her eyes off Narnra as she asked over her shoulder, "Speera, has every answer given me by Narnra been completely true?"

"No, Mage Royal. There's one thing she wanted to be true, but stood in some doubt over."

"And that was?"

"Living kin. Until recently she was sure she had none . . . but now knows better. The knowledge does not please her."

In the silence that followed, Caladnei eyed Narnra thoughtfully, and then asked, "Are you going to tell me, Narnra, without greeting the wall again?"

The Waterdhavian clenched her teeth, looked at the floor, and burst out, "You've no right to do this. I don't want to spend the rest of my days being hunted by every gods-cursed wizard in Faerun! Can't I keep this one secret? It's nothing to do with Cormyr!"

"I must be the judge of that," the Mage Royal replied softly. "Come, Narnra, what harm can saying a name or two do you? If 'tis nothing to do with Cormyr, as you say, then it can't be a lineage exiled from here, and so . . ."

Glarasteer Rhauligan cleared his throat loudly, and Caladnei looked over at him, stepping smoothly back from Narnra to do so.

"You thought your parents were dead, right?" the Harper asked Narnra.

She looked into his eyes and said, "Yes."

"You've never had siblings, aye?"

"Yes."

"So you've just learned your mother-or your father-was alive, hey?"

"Yes," Narnra said, shrinking back from him as if he was going to hurl something at her.

"You followed a wizard here, didn't you?"

Narnra glared at him and kept silence. Four people stared at each other in the vast and otherwise empty room before Laspeera asked, "You're the daughter of Elminster of Shadowdale, aren't you?"

Narnra shot her a look that had daggers in it and-reluctantly- nodded. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper: "I… fear so."

She looked up swiftly. Rhauligan was eyeing her with bright interest, while Laspeera's eyes had a strange expression that held several things, pity foremost among them. Caladnei was frowning.

"In the cellars of Marsember, Elminster certainly didn't seem to be treating you as his daughter," she observed, stepping closer again.

Narnra drew in a deep breath and told the floor tonelessly, "I don't think Elminster knows he sired me."

The Mage Royal turned to Laspeera. "Does this seem likely to you?"

"The fathering? Very. The not knowing all of his offspring and their doings does surprise me, yes. I thought the Old Mage knew damned near every time any wizard in all Faerun scratched himself."

Caladnei nodded and turned back to Narnra. "You realize the danger if word of your parentage spreads." Her words were not a question.

The thief from Waterdeep nodded and said bitterly, "All too well." She shrugged. "But as I seem doomed to spend whatever short remainder of life is left to me as a helpless captive, tossed from one ruthless wizard to another-present company very much included-it hardly seems to matter."

Caladnei's eyes were thoughtful. "What will you do if I release you?"

Narnra shrugged again. "Steal all I can, probably, until I've coins enough to buy caravan-passage back to Waterdeep . . . unless, while thieving here in Cormyr, I like what I see enough to stick around."

Caladnei smiled sourly. "As Mage Royal, I've a better idea: You can serve yourself best if you stay alive and serve Cormyr at the same time."

"Serve how?"

"As a paid spy while you thieve-with occasional offers of additional monies for more daring tasks of plundering or 'placing' items to be found … as Rhauligan, here, does for us."

"So it's agree or you'll kill me?"

"Oh, no," Caladnei said softly. "I need information about Cormyr's foes. It'll be much more useful to simply spread the news around Suzail that you're Elminster's daughter, and watch the wolves come out of hiding to get at you."

"I'll still die!"

The Mage Royal shrugged. "We all do, sooner or later-and you'll be free to die in your own way, just as you believe all of us overbearing sorts are." She waited. "Well?"

Narnra slid down the wall until she was sitting, sighed loudly, then told the carved dragon ceiling, "I'm furious at being at the mercy of any wizard." She turned her head to glare at Caladnei and added, "I think I'll tell you so."

Rhauligan's amused snort was echoed-in far more ladylike manners-by the two Cormyrean women.

"Moreover, before I agree to anything, I need to know not just the 'or else,' but also the 'what else' and the 'what about after,' too."

Caladnei was almost smiling. "And those things would be?"

"The bad things you're not yet telling me about this . . . and what happens to me when the Mage Royal of Cormyr deems me expendable."

Caladnei's smile appeared, wry but full. "Prudence at last. A bit late, but making an appearance nonetheless."

She knelt close to where Narnra was sitting and said, "To save Cormyr, we are all expendable. However, 'tis my hope that you'll become so useful to us all that you serve loyally for years to come-whereupon you might be rewarded with a 'way out.' A title, a nice mansion to live out your wrinkled years … a better 'after' than many can hope for. As for the 'what else,' I need to know your trustworthiness and so would begin by mind-reaming you directly."

"Turning me into some sort of brainless slug?"

"No. I'll never deal pain, mind-to-mind, as Elminster did. No, if you were found wanting, I'd put you through a portal back to Waterdeep."

Narnra almost sprang up from the wall. "You can do that?"

"Oh, yes. I must warn you that the portal I know will deliver you into a very public room of state in Peirgeiron's Palace. Have you a swift story ready?"

"Being the daughter of Elminster ought to do," Rhauligan murmured-earning him three glares at once.

Narnra bit her lip. "And … I'd just go back to Trades Ward? No one following me?"

Caladnei shrugged. "Not from Cormyr."

Narnra looked at her. "This mind-ream: What will it do to me?"

"Show me your thoughts and memories as I rummage. If you'd like to reassure yourself as to your fate at my hands, I can easily make the mind-ream a two-way affair so you can judge me while I do the same to you."

Narnra stared at the Mage Royal, awed and strangely excited- and suddenly angry again. She scrambled up, took a few stumbling steps away from Caladnei, waving at the Cormyreans to stay back from her, and leaned her head against the wall. "I … let me think."

"Of course," Laspeera said softly.

Breathing heavily, Narnra stared at the toes of her boots and thought hard. How did she feel?

Did she trust these folk? Laspeera seemed motherly, Rhauligan was-Rhauligan, dedicated to his task … and Caladnei had beaten her like a backstreet bully with magic-but not killed her when the slaying would have been easy and Narnra had been stupid enough to goad her. Repeatedly.

So how did she feel? Truth, now . . .

I'm more terrified than eager. And I'm angry. Angry at myself for being afraid, angrier still at Caladnei and Rhauligan for bringing me by force into this choice. I'm burn-the-gods furious with Elminster for siring me, just walking away, and luring me here from the streets I know.

"Truth," Laspeera said gently from behind Narnra. "Every word utter truth."

Gods, yes, she's been reading my every thought. . .

Narnra spun around with a frightened snarl, expecting to find all three Cormyreans closing in around her-but everyone was just where they'd been before, Caladnei still kneeling.

"If I agree to this . . . this madness," Narnra asked in a voice that was far from calm and steady, "when will this mind-ream take place?"

The Mage Royal of Cormyr rose slowly to her feet, smiling a little wryly. "In such matters, there's never any better time for boldly reckless action than . . . right now."