The Dream Spheres

Sixteen

Danilo hauled himself to his feet. Through eyes swimming with stars, he made out three dark shapes dropping from the elm tree: three, in addition to the man who had already hit him.

He reached for his singing sword, for its magic served to galvanize the wielder and those who fought beside him, while disheartening those who fought against. Against four men, he would need that edge.

He pulled the blade free. At once it broke into melody, but not the ringing, comic ballads that Dan had magi shy;cally "taught" it. The sword intoned a dismal little dirge in the nasal tones of the Turmish language.

The sword's magic had no power over the fighters. They fell into place around him. The man who faced him swept his sword in a taunting circle, then tossed it from left hand to right and back. It was a show meant to intimidate.

"And it succeeds," Danilo murmured under his breath.

He reached for his spell bag and called to hand the components for a slow-movement spell. To his dismay, the casting had no effect on the men circling him, but the falling leaves suddenly defied the brisk wind, drip shy;ping slowly through the sky like honey from a spoon.

The singing sword gave a ghastly croak and fell silent. Magic had, to all purposes, deserted him.

The man facing him sneered. "I seen rusty swords before. First time I ever heard one!" He lunged forward, his sword coming in high.

Danilo blocked. His sword groaned with the parry, a dismal sound that seemed to leech away his resolve. When the mercenary punched out, he could not move away in time. The heavy blow caught him below the ribs and knocked the wind from him, bending him nearly double.

From the corner of his eye, he saw another thug lunging in for his sword arm. He turned painfully, blocked, and riposted. All the while his sword whined, moaning and complaining.

A fiery streak flared across the surface of his mind like crimson lightning. His vision danced, and a heart shy;beat passed before he connected the flash of pain with the long rip in his left sleeve, the welling redness stain shy;ing the emerald silk.

The man behind him kicked hard, catching him in the small of his back. He could not turn to defend him shy;self. Nor would he, for another man was coming in, sword leveled for a lunging thrust.

Danilo blocked. He feinted low, then shifted his weight and lunged in high. His blade slid just wide of his opponent's parry, scoring a stinging cut on the man's cheek. Danilo felt a surge of satisfaction. The outcome of this seemed assured, but at least he would make some account of himself.

The next cut came from behind-a shallow, stinging jab to this shoulder. Dan whirled and thrust. His sword glanced off the man's belt buckle and sank in deep. He wrenched his blade free, shifted to his back foot, and parried an attack from another foe. At the same time, he kicked back and caught the third man on the side of the knee. The thug's leg buckled, and he stumbled, nearly falling.

The man caught himself and came in, his face a mask of fury. He leaped, his sword aimed for Danilo's heart. The first man, though, the one who had jeered at Danilo's sword, slashed out and knocked his comrade's blade aside.

"Not that," he snarled. He glanced at Dan and added, "Not yet."

Danilo suspected the last words were meant to cover a misstep. This attack was most likely not intended to be an execution but a warning. Still, he couldn't be sure.

He lifted his sword in guard position and faced down the three remaining men. The leader began to advance, and then froze in midstep. His eyes shifted down to his hand, and his puzzled gaze shifted from the sword that would no longer obey him to the broad, shining dagger tip that protruded from his beard.

Suddenly the dagger jerked to one side, and a crim shy;son fountain exploded from the man's throat. He fell slowly, revealing the cold, amber gaze of the elf stand shy;ing behind him. The man's comrades threw down their swords and ran.

Without pausing for thought, Danilo took off after them. Elaith swore and kicked into a run. "You are in no condition for this," he pointed out as he trotted along beside.

"Have to stop them," Dan gritted from between clenched teeth. "Have to know who ordered this."

The sound of fleeing hoofbeats resounded down the back streets, but Danilo did not slow. The elf hissed in exasperation. "You are depriving some village of an idiot, you know."

The rumble of a carriage caught the elf's attention. He glanced up as the conveyance ambled by and noted that it bore the guild sign and was driven by a halfling. Good. That made things easier.

Elaith leaped onto the running board. He reached up and pulled the driver from the box, sending him sprawl shy;ing into the streets with a quick, careless toss. With the horses he showed a bit more care-he caught the near shy;est bridle and coaxed the team to a stop. He flung open the door and tumbled the shrieking passengers out, then shouldered Dan into the carriage. Slamming the door, he leaped onto the driver's box.

He shook the reins over the horses' backs. The fright shy;ened animals took off at a tearing run.

Danilo crawled through the window onto the box. "Don't think that I am devoid of appreciation," he began, "but-"

"Not another a word," the elf snarled as he guided the team around a sharp turn. "You wanted to catch those men. This is the only way you'll do so without bleeding yourself dry."

Danilo considered, then gave a curt nod. That was all he had time for, because another careening turn tipped the carriage onto two wheels. He seized the edge of the seat and braced his boots against the footrest to keep from sliding off onto the cobblestones.

"Hang on," Elaith said, belatedly.

They tore through the streets, tilting wildly first to one side then the other as they thundered along. The elf kept the hindmost rider in sight-no easy task, despite the fact that the man's precipitous flight emptied the streets.

Elaith followed him down a narrow alley, one that curved and twisted like a snake. The carriage tilted but did not fall. Sparks flew as the wheel rubbed against the narrow walls and showered down on them from where the upper edge grazed the opposite wall.

They burst out into the chaos of a crowded courtyard. A trio of barrels rolled toward them. One shattered beneath the horses' hooves. The scent of mead honeyed the air. Chickens fled, squawking in stupid indignation. A few merchants stood their ground, shouting impreca shy;tions and pelting the carriage with spilled and ruined produce.

Instinctively Elaith reached for a retaliatory knife. Danilo caught his arm as he was getting ready to throw.

"Listen," he said grimly.

The distinctive rise and fall of the Watch horn sounded over the noise of the street. Elaith swore and jerked the reins to the left, sending the horses careen shy;ing down a side street. Four men in black and green scale armor formed ranks at the end of the street. "The Watch," Danilo said. "The penalty for attacking them is high!"

"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' backs 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 com shy;mented. 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. "Griffon 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 feath shy;ered 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.

Dan 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 shoul shy;der 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?" Dan retorted. "Thank you, but I will await the healer." He paused. "You followed me. Why?"

Elaith considered what to say. The dream spheres 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 con shy;front 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, al shy;though to date Myrna has limited herself to assassinat shy;ing 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 dream spheres. How, Arilyn was not certain. By her own ad shy;mission, 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 fran shy;tic servant followed close on her heels, imploring her to see reason.

"That will do, Orwell," said a cold, female voice. "I will handle this."

The servant 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 pro shy;vide proof of that!"

Arilyn ignored the insult. "Yet your brother did busi shy;ness 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 real shy;ization 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 atten shy;tion 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 fran shy;tically, no sound emerged.

Arilyn strode forward, reaching in her bag for the small vial she carried for just such occasions. She un shy;corked 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 grat shy;itude.

"Trying to clean up after your friend?" she croaked at Dan.

He and Arilyn exchanged a puzzled glance. "I don't understand," he said.

"Elaith poisoned me. I'm sure of it! I have had deal shy;ings with him of late," Myrna admitted, her voice grow shy;ing 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," Dan 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 pro shy;tected. 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. "Nonethe shy;less, 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 Craul shy;nober 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 per shy;fectly good antidote."

The noblewoman's face turned livid. "Mark me, you will not escape this. Do you think that the families are pleased with Dan's relationship with Khelben Arun shy;sun? 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."