Erin Evans - The God Catcher

"You might have died," Veron said, worry in his voice.

"No," Nestrix said. "This one is luckier than that."

She looked at Tennora and felt a stirring within her, the memories of Lyra-not yet gone, but more settled than they'd ever been. Tennora was not Lyra. She was not Wenda. She was no ulharkosj, no wyrmling born of the summer storms-and no clutchmate, no sister-rival. But both the dragon and the thief were proud of Tennora's assured stance, of the way she bore her bruises.

"We are friends, aren't we?" Nestrix said, smiling. Tennora gave her a puzzled look. "Perhaps. There is still the matter of the ritual."

"What ritual?"

"The one you promised," she said. "I know it doesn't exist."

"Of course it exists," Nestrix said. "But I didn't get my form back, so our deal's not done."

"Nestrix," Tennora said, "Aundra told me. There's no such ritual."

"Blacklock? How in the Hells would she know?" Nestrix said, getting annoyed.

Tennora folded her arms. "She's an accomplished sorceress."

"And? Did she stand there while I performed it for Tantlevgithus? Was she around a hundred years ago? No. Give me some parchment. I'll write it down if it matters so much to you."

Tennora started to speak. Then her expression softened, and she said, "Never mind. I don't want it. I have no need to chase after what I haven't earned. 'If I hurl spells but think not of consequences, I am nothing.'"

"Laeral Silverhand," Nestrix said, though whether she knew it or Lyra did she no longer could tell. "What will you do then?"

Tennora shrugged. "I have options. What of you? The both of you," she added, looking to Veron.

Nestrix looked up, her mouth grim. "I'm leaving."

"What?" Tennora said. "Where?"

"Cormyr," she said. "I am not a dragon, not any longer. They want to try me, I have to tell them what happened."

Tennora turned on Veron. "You're really going to do this? After everything? After she saved you?"

"I'm not taking her to Cormyr," Veron said. "I'm not taking anyone to Cormyr."

Nestrix sighed. "Dokaal-"

"The truth is," he said, raising his voice, "I don't make a very good bounty hunter. The search, the capture-that's all fine. But I can't see things in black and white the way they ask. You might have killed the wizard," he added, looking up at Nestrix, "but I won't let you hang for protecting yourself."

Nestrix held that golden gaze. "I might be lying."

"I don't think you are," he said.

"Veron," Tennora said thoughtfully, "have you ever thought of seeking your fortune adventuring? I have a friend who'd give you a few tips." A look of concern flitted over her features. "After he finished yelling at you for letting me into danger."

There came another knock at the door, and this time Nazra Mrays entered, followed by Agnea and a much battered-looking Jorik.

Nazra was holding a staff with a bluish crystal at its tip. The wooden shaft had been carved with dragons. The magic there teased at Nestrix.

"Clytemorrenestrix of the Calim," Nazra said. She laid the head of the staff in Nestrix's lap. "Take hold of it."

As Nestrix did so, a spark jumped between her palm and the crystal. "Ouch!" She glowered at Nazra. "Is this a trick?"

"Hush, and put your hand back there," Nazra said, and her mouth curved into a smile. "For your acts in defense of the city of Waterdeep, your assistance of her Watch and her lords, and your protection of one of her young citizens, you are hereby welcome in the City of Splendors, regardless of form. So long as you continue to uphold these virtues."

The air around Nestrix twitched and shimmered for a breath as the blessing of the staff took hold. Something inside her seemed to bloom and spread outward. Whether it was the remnants of the dragonward sliding from her or some other effect of the ancient staff, none knew and none speculated. A sigh escaped her lips, unbidden.

For better or worse, Waterdeep had accepted Clytemorrenestrix. Once of the Calim, now of the City of Splendors.

Winter brought a chill to the streets of Waterdeep even though the snows were late that year. A wind blew down the Sword Coast, stirring dead leaves and the hems of cloaks as it raced through the city's streets. Tennora pulled her own cloak a little closer, as she stood opposite number thirteen Dust Alley, and the light turned rosy with the setting sun.

She wore the heavy ring from her mother's chest on a chain, and she rubbed her fingers across the crest as she waited and watched the door. She was due at another party in an hour and needed to get back to the Sea Ward to change into something suitable and get Nazra's information on the other guests-something she would have dreaded a few months earlier. But under the Masked Lord's tutelage, dull conversations were suddenly spangled with gems of information.

And when the hosts weren't watching, she slipped into their private rooms and left the treasures stolen by the Shadow Wind. Though it felt, in some small corner of her heart, like giving up a piece of her mother, the jewels were never Liferna's. She'd enjoyed them as the Shadow Wind and had been ashamed of them as Lady Hedare. And now she was done with them, and it was time to say good-bye.

The ring remained a mystery. The crest was no one in Waterdeep's. Whether it was stolen or a relic from the mysterious family to the east or something else, there was no way to know. Just as there was no way to know who her mother had really been, why she had changed, or whether she regretted becoming Lady Hedare. In both cases, Tennora allowed herself the pleasure of what she had-the knowledge that her mother had a complex life and the weight of the ring on the chain.

The door opened, and a young man with scars and dark hair came out, twirling a ring of keys around one finger. He spotted Tennora and froze.

"Well met," she said.

"Well met," he said, "and a good evening, duchess. Sorry, but my shop's closed."

"I'm not here to peruse your wares," she said. "Nor to let you peruse mine again."

"For the record," Sovann said, "those carvestars cost far more than what was in your purse."

"I believe it," Tennora said. "I was a bit short on coin that day. You should have worked out from the weight that those were mostly nibs instead of presuming."

He squinted at the sunset behind her. "So? Why are you here, duchess? Break your lockpicks?"

"I need a teacher again," she said. "I've got a patron who wants me to learn about disarming warding spells. I know how a wizard would do it." She looked at him through her lashes. "How would you do it?"

He turned and locked the door. "Your patron wouldn't go by the name Master Watch, would he now?"

Tennora smiled and flipped her braid over her shoulder. "Certainly not. Anyway there's not a thing illicit about knowing how to break a ward. This is purely research."

Sovann clucked his tongue. "Canny as an archdevil, you." She fell into step beside him. "How'd your last… research turn out then?"

"Well," she said. "Well as can be expected, anyway."

He nodded sagely. "It's a rough business."

"Your lessons certainly made the difference a few times," she said. "And the carvestars."

"Glad to be of service," he said with a florid bow. She caught his hand as it darted near her coin purse again and held it out with a disappointed expression.

He shrugged and smiled crookedly. "Just trying to recoup my losses," he said. "You can't blame a jack for trying."

"Can't I?" Tennora said. "You want to recoup your losses, come find me at this address." She held out a slip of paper and tucked it into the pocket of his jerkin. "I'll make sure you're paid handsomely." She let her hand linger on his chest a moment and stood close enough that the heat of their bodies banished the winter chill.