Dave Gross: Mistress of the Night

Among the devastation on the bench lay the remains. of not one of the jars Keph had treated with the magesbane, but four. Of the two vessels he had treated, there was no sign. He could only guess that they had given birth to the shards of glass that littered the laboratory floor and pierced his brother's flesh.

Beshaba's ivory arms, he cursed silently, what have you gotten me into, Jarull?

Strasus was turning around in the midst of the chaos, examining everything but especially the ruined workbench. Keph's mouth was dry. He scarcely dared to breathe. His father was sure to find something; nothing escaped his sharp-eyed gaze. And if he detected the magesbane

But Strasus only grunted and stood up straight, stroking his gray beard as he turned away from the workbench. Keph's stomach twisted. He licked his lips, forcing moisture into his mouth again.

"What happened?" he asked, cautious.

The old wizard grimaced. "An accident," he said. "Roderio must have made some kind of mistake in his brewing."

He held out his staff and murmured a spell. With a sound like the edges of a hundred knives drawn across slate, the broken glass and crockery that had been scattered across the laboratory scraped itself together into neat piles. He wiped his free hand through the air and the smoking puddles and droplets of acid hissed and vanished. Strasus lowered his staff slowly to the ground and paced out of the room with a sigh.

Keph only barely managed to hold in a sigh of his own as his father stepped past him. An accident?

Out in the hall, Strasus knelt beside Roderio. "How is he?" he asked.

"Unconscious," said Dagnalla, "but I don't think he's getting any worse. A priest should arrive soon. We'll know better then."

Her voice was thick with tension. Strasus reached out and patted her on the shoulder, then helped her to her feet.

"It would be better if he were in his bed rather than lying on the floor," he said. "Malia?"

"I'll see to it, father." She spread her hand speaking the words of a spell. Roderio's battered, unconscious body shuddered slightly, then rose up off the floor to about waist height. Malia gestured and Roderio glided down the hall toward the south wing. The watching servants parted before him. Strasus, Dagnalla, and Malia followed in his wake. Keph could hear his niece Adrey down the corridor, crying and asking what had happened to her uncle.

"Tymora's own luck," he breathed.

Keph wasn't quite sure how or why Strasus could come to conclude that what had happened was nothing more than an accident, but Keph wasn't going to question his good fortune! As his family followed Roderio's floating form and the crowd of servants dispersed, Keph ducked into the laboratory. His brother's familiar hissed at him.

"Quiet, you!" he hissed back, and darted to the rack of jars, hastily grabbing those that remained of the ones he had dusted with the magesbane. Tucking them carefully into the crook of his arm, he darted back to the door and peered along the hall.

The servants were gone, his parents and sister all apparently in Roderio's bedchamber keeping watch over his brother. The hall was empty except for Adrey's disembodied wailing. Keph trotted down the hall to his own bedchamber and closed the door softly behind himself.

"Kephi Hey, Keph!"

Keph halted his brisk pace and swung toward the sound of Jarull's voice so quickly he almost fell over. The big man was leaning back in the shadows of a stone wall, well out of the heat of the afternoon sun. He gestured for Keph to join him, but the friendly smile he offered faded after one look at the glower on Keph's face.

"Dark, Keph, what's wrong with you?"

Keph stalked over to him. "That damn magesbane almost killed my brother!" he spat quietly. Like Jarull, many Yhauntans were seeking shelter from the heat, but there were still some people out and about. As much as he felt like shouting at his friend, he didn't dare. He shook the satchel that he carried over one shoulder. "I'm getting rid of what's left!"

"Killed him?" Jarull's eyes went wide. "Keph, what did you do with it?"

Biting off each word in anger, Keph told him. When he was finished, Jarull stared at him for a momentthen started laughing.

"It isn't funny!" Keph snarled.

He threw a punch at the big man. Jarull's hand snapped up and caught his fist. The laughter vanished from his voice.

"It is funny, Keph," he said softly.

"Oh, really?" Keph tugged his fist free of Jarull's grip. "What was the magesbane supposed to do?"

Jarull shrugged. "Explode." A strangled sound found its way out of Keph's throat, and Jarull added hastily, "A little bit, Keph. Only a little bit!"

"You said it wouldn't do anything permanent!"

"In a house with five powerful wizards, how much is there that's really permanent?" He spread his hands and raised his eyebrows. "Besides, how much do you have to hate someone to do what you did, just to make sure they got a little punishment?"

Keph blinked. "What?"

"How much of the magesbane did you say you used, Keph? Half a bottle? Without really knowing what would happen?" Jarull's voice dropped even lower and he leaned forward. "Tell me you regret it."

Keph stared at his friend. By daylight, Jarull looked even paler than he had the night before, his eyes even brighter. Something was wrong with him, Keph realized. Something more had happened in Ravens Bluff than Jarull was saying.

"Jarull…" he said, starting to take a step back.

Jarull caught his arm. "Answer me, Keph. Do you regret what you did to Roderio? What was your first reaction when your father said he thought it was all just an accident?"

"I…" Keph opened his mouththen shut it again. What had been his first reaction? Really?

Relief, he realized. Not regret for what he had done, nor dismay at what had happened to Roderio, but relief that he hadn't been caught. And more than that.

A sick feeling of elation had warmed him. He had knocked Roderio off his pedestal, not just physically, but in his father's eyes as well. The sigh that had escaped Strasus as he walked out of the laboratoryRoderio's apparent accident had disappointed Strasus. Disappointed him deeply.

It felt wonderful.

Keph sank down beside Jarull, the magesbane-contaminated jars in his satchel clanking together roughly. He turned his head to stare at his friend.

"You were never in Ravens Bluff at all, were you?" he asked. Jarull shook his head. Keph leaned back against the cool of the wall. "What's going on, Jarull?"

"I met a woman," murmured Jarull. He held up his hand and unfolded his fingers to reveal a symbol. Keph stared at it. A simple disk, painted black with a rim of deep purple.

The symbol of Shar, the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of Loss.

Fear shivered through Keph's guts. "Jarull…"

The big man clenched his fist around the disk, hiding it once more.

"I'm not taking it anymore, Keph," he said. "I've had it with my mother trying to control everything I do. I've had it with people looking down on me. I'm going to take what's mine." He glanced down at Keph. "You're sick of having your family and people like Lyraene walk all over you, aren't you, Keph? I know you are. We can do something about that."

He paused and cocked his head just a little bit. Keph looked away from his friend's too-bright eyes. Jarull was silent for a moment, then added, "I'll help you get rid of the last of that magesbane and I'll introduce you to some of my new friends. What do you think?"

He held out his fist, the one with the black and purple symbol wrapped inside. Keph stared at it. Shar…

But it had felt so good to bring down Roderio, at least a little bit.

He reached out and bashed his fist against Jarull's.

Coolie Shoondeep, the chubby high priest of Tymora in Yhaunn, droned on and on about the great shame that came when temple competed with temple. Would it be a great shame, Feena wondered, if she were to stuff an apple from the nearby fruit bowl into his gaping mouth to shut him up? Glancing around the table, she was fairly certain that the leaders of Yhaunn's other major temples would support her. Their eyes were beginning to glaze over as well. He's dull, thought Feena, he's methodicalMoonmaiden's grace, has there ever been a more unlikely priest, of the bold goddess of good fortune?