Элейн Каннингем - Elfshadow

“Well?”

“I met Arilyn Moonblade this evening. She is staying in Waterdeep, at the House of Good Spirits,” Elaith began. “She is very beautiful and strangely familiar.”

“What?” The gold elf’s face was livid. “I told you to keep away from her.”

“It was a chance meeting,” Elaith said smoothly. “Under the circumstances, I could hardly avoid her.”

“I won’t have her associated with such as you!” Kymil spat out. “I won’t have her reputation tainted.”

“Oh, come now,” Elaith chided him. “Tainted? Gifted she may be, beautiful she certainly is, but there is no denying that Arilyn Moonblade is thought by many to be an assassin.”

“She was an assassin.”

“Have it your way. Oh, yes. She has a companion, a particularly foolish whelp of one of the Waterdhavian noblemen. Danilo Thann. Why she travels with him is not clear. To all appearances, he’s something of a pet.”

“Yes, yes,” Kymil Nimesin said impatiently. “I know all this already.”

Elaith continued, undisturbed by the interruption. “But appearances, as we both know so well, can be deceiving. The etriel’s companion, I’m convinced, is something more than the fool he appears to be. Were you aware that Danilo Thann is related to Khelben Arunsun? A nephew, I believe.”

“Blackstaff’s nephew?” For the first time, Kymil’s face showed a flicker of interest. Just as quickly, the interest was gone. “What of it?”

“Perhaps nothing,” Elaith allowed. “But Arilyn Moonblade is reputed to be skilled at concealing her identity and purpose. Is it inconceivable that her companion is similarly gifted?”

The face in the globe twisted in annoyance. “Your effrontery is inconceivable. You forget, gray elf, that I can observe Arilyn Moonblade myself. The conversation at your table tonight was noted. The Thann twit challenged you to a battle of words—notice that I did not say wits—and the match was a draw.”

“But he is Blackstaff’s nephew.”

“So you’ve said. I see no significance.”

“He is well placed and more clever than he pretends to be,” Elaith said. “Given her background, surely the Harpers suspect Arilyn of the recent spate of murders. Perhaps this Thann boy is a spy, sent to ascertain her guilt or innocence.”

“Ha!” Kymil broke in scornfully. “Danilo Thann is no more a Harper than you or I.”

“Perhaps not, but if he were, wouldn’t it be amusing if he were to fall victim to the Harper Assassin?”

“You have a peculiar sense of humor.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told,” Elaith agreed. “Now, what about Danilo Thann?”

“If you want the fool dead, see to it. One human more or less is of no consequence to me.”

The face in the globe began to fade into mist. “I also saw Bran Skorlsun,” said Elaith casually.

Instantly the image snapped into sharp focus. “Yes, I thought that might get your attention,” Elaith murmured, a malicious glint lighting his amber eyes. “Imagine my surprise to see our mutual friend again after all these years. Of course, I did not recognize him at first. Humans can age appallingly in—what has it been? Almost forty years?”

Kymil brushed aside the question. “Bran Skorlsun was there? At the House of Good Spirits?”

“Fascinating coincidence, wouldn’t you say?” Elaith said casually.

Lost in thought, Kymil again failed to comment. After a pause, he said, “You did well to contact me. I will send you your usual fee.”

Elaith had contacted Kymil Nimesin merely to annoy him, but now the moon elf’s curiosity was piqued. Any plot involving Bran Skorlsun smelled of adventure, and where there was adventure there was potential profit. He decided to ignore the gold elf’s patronizing attitude for now and press for details. Retribution for tonight’s insults would come later.

“Is there something further with which I can help you?” Elaith offered.

“Nothing,” Kymil said curtly. “Wait. Yes, there is.”

“At your service,” Elaith replied.

“You can stay away from Arilyn Moonblade.”

“Of course. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

Kymil’s tone held the ring of finality. Elaith was not impressed. He was accustomed to having the last word himself, in his own time and in his own fashion. “As you wish. There is, however, the little matter of my fee,” the moon elf pointed out. “The terms have changed. I prefer payment in, shall we say, a less direct form of currency.”

“Yes? Well?”

“Danilo Thann,” Elaith said flatly.

“Done,” snapped Kymil Nimesin. “As I said, it matters not to me whether he lives or dies. Considering the gold you’re giving up, your pride has a high price.”

As you will learn, Elaith Craulnobur thought, my pride has a very high price indeed.

“We could share it,” ventured Danilo.

“Hardly,” Arilyn returned, looking pointedly at the narrow cot that was the chamber’s only bed. “A pair of newlywed halflings would find it too crowded. I’ll take the floor.”

Danilo watched as she settled down on a pallet by the fireside and jerked a blanket over her head. “I should be a gentleman and insist that you take the bed, but I’m too tired to argue,” he said.

“Good,” came the muffled response.

With a sigh, Danilo sank down on the bed. So what if this was the humblest chamber in a second-rate inn? They were lucky to find a place to sleep. And after the rigors of travel, anyplace would do. Yet it was some time before sleep came to Danilo. Long after Arilyn’s faint, measured breathing assured him that his companion had fallen asleep, he lay wakeful on his lumpy mattress.

The encounter with the rogue moon elf troubled Danilo. Back in Evereska, the nobleman had recognized Perendra’s sigil on the gold snuffbox. The one-eared thug had acquired the box from an elf in Waterdeep. It was not unreasonable to assume that this elf might be a key to the mystery of the Harper Assassin. In Danilo’s mind, the Craulnobur rogue was certainly an elf to consider in their search.

Danilo had discovered long ago that when people were put on edge, they tended to reveal more than they’d intended. He had done his best to disconcert Elaith Craulnobur. The elf’s dark reputation lent risk to Danilo’s strategy, but a fool such as he could usually get away with many things.

Danilo smiled ruefully into the darkness. It had been one of his better performances, yet Elaith Craulnobur had been remarkably unaffected by it. The only thing that Danilo had accomplished that evening was further alienating Arilyn. That bothered him more than he liked to admit. The young nobleman cast a quick glance at the sleeping half-elf.

Half-elf. That was something else to think about. Danilo laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the cracks in the ceiling. Since he’d first seen Arilyn’s portrait, he’d thought of her as a human woman. That perception had lingered long after he’d learned her true heritage, and he’d come to consider her one of the most intriguing women he’d ever met, although certainly a stubborn and somewhat mysterious member of that group. Tonight for the first time he’d been forced to see another side of Arilyn Moonblade. He realized with a jolt of surprise that she considered herself more elf than human; no one could watch her face during the Elverquisst ritual and doubt that. Arilyn’s character had been shaped by the elven culture that had raised her and, Danilo suspected, rejected her.

The nobleman trusted his instincts about people; they had rarely led him astray. Many times on the ride to Waterdeep he had seen in Arilyn flashes of a bitterness too deep for him to fathom. He remembered the night they’d spent in the traveler’s hut and how Arilyn’s face had looked as she spoke of the gold elf who had taunted her about her heritage. For the first time Danilo wondered what it meant to be a half-elf, never truly a part of either world.