Элейн Каннингем - Elfshadow

“Well, well. Arilyn Moonblade. Since when did you start resorting to invisibility spells?” Loene asked, descending the stairs with catlike grace. She lay down her jeweled weapons on a marble-topped table at the foot of the stairs.

“It wasn’t my first choice.”

“I’ll bet.” Loene agreed dryly. The woman twisted the magic ring on her hand, murmuring the command that would dispel Danilo’s enchantment. As she did, two outlines appeared on the expensive carpet, gradually filling in until they took the form of a large, prone man and a half-elven adventurer. Loene’s lovely, curious eyes met Arilyn’s. “Ah. There you are. You look terrible, by the way.”

She came forward and crouched at Arilyn’s side, touching henna-tipped fingers to the fallen man’s pulse. “It’s strong and regular. His color is good, his breathing regular. What happened to him? Poison, you said?”

“It’s a long story,” Arilyn said tersely, her anxious gaze fixed on her companion.

“Hmmm. I can’t wait to hear it. Oh, thank you, Graves,” Loene said, accepting a box from the servant. “Just who is your friend?”

“Danilo Thann.”

“Dan—” Loene’s incredulous echo broke off into derisive laughter. “Girl, you picked a strange time to start trusting magic-users. His drawing room tricks misfire more often than Shou rockets. Oof. And he’s heavy. Give me a hand here.”

The two adventurers managed to roll the young nobleman over. Loene gently lifted one eyelid, then the other. After a moment’s speculation, she selected a small blue vial from the box of potions and handed it to Arilyn. “An antidote,” Loene said. “Very rare. Works amazingly fest.”

The half-elf quickly uncorked the vial, raised Danilo’s head, and held the potion to his lips. His eyes flickered open.

“Pretend it’s rivengut,” Arilyn advised him with a touch of grim humor.

The mention of his favorite libation rallied Danilo sufficiently to sip some of the potion. Somewhat revived, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked around the hall.

“I feel better,” he announced, sounding surprised.

“You’re sure?” Arilyn pressed.

“Almost as good as new,” he promised, surreptitiously showing her his palm. The brand had faded noticeably. Arilyn’s shoulders sagged in relief.

Loene sat back on her heels, a speculative smile playing about her lips as she watched the scene before her. She’d known Arilyn for years, and never had she seen the half-elf so rattled. No potion or antidote worked so quickly—Arilyn should have known that—and her usually sharp elven senses should have caught the scent of the apricot brandy that was the vial’s only ingredient.

Ah, but there’s a story here, Loene thought. If she were to admit to a weakness, it would be her inordinate fondness for interesting and unusual tales. An unexpected bounty had been delivered to her door this night. “I suppose explanations must wait for morning,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “Graves, would you see our guests to their beds?”

“One bed,” Arilyn corrected.

“I say. That might be expecting a bit much from the healing potion,” Danilo warned her.

Arilyn shot him a look that would have frozen a wiser man, then turned away. “With your permission, Loene, I’ll leave Danilo in your care. I must attend to urgent business.”

Loene stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Forget it, elf. Of course I’ll keep your friend until he can travel,” she huffed, “but just you try to leave without telling me what’s going on and I’ll nail your blue hide to the wall.”

Arilyn rose with a sigh of resignation. “All right. At this point, I don’t suppose a short delay can hurt too much. You’d better break out the sherry and plan to sit for a while.”

“I keep a full bottle on hand, just in case you decide to make one of these impromptu visits,” Loene purred, smiling with satisfaction. “See to our other guest, won’t you, Graves?”

“As you wish, madame.”

The woman and the half-elf linked arms and headed into Loene’s study to exchange tales of adventure.

Danilo sat crosslegged on the carpet, watching them go. He noted with a purely personal satisfaction that Arilyn shot a final, concerned look back at him before she left the room. A pointedly cleared throat captured his attention, and he looked up at the servant. The mace still hung at the man’s belt, a jarring note amid the elegant furnishings of the entrance hall.

“If you think you can walk, sir, I’ll see you to your room,” the servant said. When Danilo nodded, Graves bent down and plucked the nobleman from the carpet, none too gently.

Danilo took the servant’s arm, making a show of leaning on him as they walked slowly up the stairs. A pair of giant black mastiffs followed them, eyeing Danilo with wary interest. The nobleman fleetingly hoped that the dogs were well fed. He noted that the wiry servant was surprisingly strong, and that the man’s raspy, whiskey-drenched voice and eyes the color of cold steel seemed more suited to the battlefield than the Castle Ward. It was a reassuring observation, and Danilo suddenly felt a little better about what he had to do. If he had to leave Arilyn for a time, at least she would be well protected.

The dandy let Graves lead him into a richly appointed guest room and lower him into a chair. “Is there anything else that sir requires?” the servant asked coolly.

“Sleep should do it,” Danilo assured him. “That was a dandy potion, really.”

“Very good, sir.” The servant closed the door firmly behind him.

Danilo listened until the servant’s footsteps died away. When all was silent, he rose, reaching into the magic bag at his waist. He took from it his spellbook and a length of rope. He quickly studied the runes on one of the pages, memorizing the complex spell he had to cast. Finally satisfied, he slipped the spellbook back into this bag.

Not a trace of his lethargy remained. The effects of the assassin’s poison had faded long before they’d reached Loene’s house, although Danilo had maintained a facade of weakness in order to get Arilyn out of the inn and away from an assassin who could disappear from a locked room.

He threw open a window, secured the rope to a bedpost, and lowered himself to the courtyard. After his experience on the ledge of the inn, he was not about to attempt a levitation spell from a second-story window, antidote or not. By the way, Danilo mused, I must find out what was in that concoction. It was quite tasty.

He reached into his sack for the spell components and went through the complex patterns of gestures and chants. After rising into the night and over the wall, he floated down, featherlike, to the street beyond. At last, quietly, he strode to the front of the house and dispelled the enchantment that made his horse invisible.

The edge of the night sky was just beginning to fade to silver when Danilo started west on Waterdeep Way. Just down the street, a few contented patrons were leaving Mother Tathlorn’s House of Pleasure and Healing, a combination festhall and spa that was very plush and very popular. That was a sure sign that morning was near.

Danilo Thann gave his horse’s reins a sharp shake, and he rode quickly toward nearby Blackstaff Tower.

As he rode, Danilo pondered all that had transpired during the night. He would have given much to have heard Arilyn’s version of their story. He did not imagine that he fared well in the telling.

Danilo was accustomed to being thought a fool. Even within his own family, he bore his father’s stern disapproval and the scorn of his older brothers. This he accepted as part of his role, but when he saw a foppish Waterdhavian dandy reflected back to him from the mirror of Arilyn’s elven eyes, he found that he had little stomach for the charade.