from under startlingly dark brows. 'So . . . have you a name of your own, Hooded One?'
A tingling of magic washed over Narnra before Caladnei was even finished speaking, and without thinking the thief from Wa-terdeep crouched tensely, as if facing battle.
'I am the Mage Royal of Cormyr,' the woman behind the Harper said gently, 'and that was a truth-reading spell-nothing more. My word here is law-'tis a crime to evade or deny me. Please answer fully.'
Narnra trembled, eyeing the Harper's steady blade and the purposeful look in Caladnei's eyes. The Mage Royal stepped to one side, gesturing to Narnra to keep looking at her-and forcing her to take her eyes off the Harper menacing her.
Narnra sighed, drew herself up, and turned smartly to do as she was bidden. The Mage Royal wore boots and a warrior's leathers, and her long black hair was gathered behind her shoulders with a ribbon. Her belt was crowded with pouches interspersed with daggers, and she wore no proud insignia or touches of wealth.
'Look at me.' That gentle voice came again, and Narnra knew what was meant. She lifted her gaze to meet Caladnei's eyes directly and found herself caught and held, staring into two dark flames.
There was a high scream, a thunder of hard-running booted feet, and another splash, but none of the trio standing at this end of the pier paid the slightest attention.
'I asked you a question. Surrender to me your full name.'
'I … I am called Narnra. Narnra Shalace, of Waterdeep.'
'Are you conspiring against the Crown of Cormyr?'
'Lady, I don't even know who the Crown of Cormyr is-and until you just said that to me, wasn't even certain I was in Cormyr. I-I've never been in your land before tonight.'
'So how came you to be on this island?'
Narnra sighed. 'Well, there was a wizard . . .' She hesitated, not knowing how best to say things. In Waterdeep, to openly admit one was a thief was to be punished regardless of what one might or might not have done.
That was when the Harper standing beside her made a queer sort of grunt-and was suddenly slamming into a distant pillar, his body aflame. Caladnei staggered and clutched at her head as if someone had shrieked in her ears, and the dock-stones under Narnra's boots rippled as if some gigantic bulk was swimming past in the solid stone, close beneath her feet. She saw stones heaving and falling all over the dock and spun around and was running hard away from her interrogators even before the ceiling above her cracked, a pillar toppled far ahead and the bridge of shouting, shoving men that linked the dock and the next island broke in a dozen places . . . and slumped into the harbor with a crash that sent walls of reeking water crashing across the dock. Narnra dived to a pillar and clung to it to keep from being washed away.
The waters were still roiling around her when blinding-bright lightning cracked through the mists, heralding many screams. Someone blew what sounded like a war-horn, and from here and there crossbow quarrels started to hum out of the night, snarling across the docks like hunting hornets.
Cursing, Narnra ran away-she knew not where, just away.
Small armed bands of Harpers and War Wizards were everywhere, and many of the pillars along the dock were festooned with slumped, sleeping folk in torn and now drenched finery, who'd been tied to the pillar and each other at the wrists, ankles, and throats-presumably by the Harpers who stood watchfully by.
One such challenged Narnra with a shout, gliding to intercept her with his blade held ready, but she snarled, 'Caladnei sent me! Out of my way!' and he put up his steel to let her run past.
There was little dock left to her, and several Harpers watching. She had to enter one of the darkened archways. These must lead into cargo-rooms, and what urgent business could she have there? No, it must be back to the cellars she headed. Not only did she not like the look of the stinking harbor-water at all, but with so many crossbows and hurlers-of-lightning about, that way would be almost sure death. That stair to the cellars was directly in line with the bridge that was no more, so despite the fact that no water seemed to have splashed hereabouts, this archway would be the right one. . . .
'Hah! Another rat scurrying back to the bolt-hole!'
More than a dozen men were crowded around the stair-head, conferring-and two of them already had blades almost into her.
Narnra spun aside rather than slowing. 'Caladnei's orders!' she snapped, trying for her Waterdhavian matriarch's voice. 'Out of my way!'
'Armeld?' one of the men moving smoothly to bar her path called, over his shoulder.
'She was talking with the Mage Royal. Let her past, and go with her-just you two. See where she goes, what she does.' Armeld turned back to the men who'd been reporting to him, and as she hurried down the stairs with her unwelcome escort hard on her heels, their voices resumed. 'Dozens of nasty little stabbings and drownings-scores settled, I'd judge-a lot of sex and drunkenness, the usual cliques . . .'
'Any more wizards now that Lightning-Dolt's dead?'
'There should be, but. . .'
Someone cursed in the darkness below-lamps were noticeably fewer, now-and the rushing Narnra was out of earshot of the stair-head by the time those oaths-and the skirl of steel and choked-off groan that swiftly followed- had died away.
'-got clean away!' someone said suddenly, almost in Narnra's ear, as she skidded around a corner and raced toward the next flight of descending steps. 'Ho!'
'Stop her!' another voice snapped. There was a heavy crash as someone stepped into the path of the two Harpers racing after her. Men bounced and rolled down the steps in a heavily thudding, cursing, and ultimately groaning bundle in her wake. Narnra dared not look to see what had befallen, but as she turned at the next landing she got a momentary glimpse of what looked like the lamplit silhouette of a man leaping over tumbling bodies on the stairs to keep after her.
She slipped in something sticky-probably blood-and almost went into a tumble herself. Slamming into the wall instead with force enough to drive away her breath, she skidded painfully along it to a gasping halt and felt for the stone rail she could not see. All was in darkness, here, though she could see the glimmer of torches bobbing somewhere far below.
'Well,' a man's voice came nastily out of the nearby darkness just below her, 'if they got aboard that skiff, they're at the bottom of one of Marsember's fabled fetid canals right now. That was the one-'
'Hold!' another man snapped. 'I thought that was a corpse rolling down the stairs, but someone's panting-and so, yet lives.'
'Touch left,' the first voice muttered, and-as she crouched low, mastering her balance for a desperate spring-Narnra heard stealthy movements.
Light flared, below her: a soft blue magical glow arising from the pommel of a dagger held out over the center of the steps at full arm's-length by someone in dark leathers who was crowded against the wall to Narnra's left. Someone else was crouched right ahead of her against the right wall.
'A lass!' the one on the left said, sounding startled.
'In a mask' the other responded, in tones that made it sound like mask-wearing was the most dire crime possible in Cormyr.
'We're on the same side,' Narnra snapped, sounding very much like an irritated Waterdhavian noble matriarch. 'I was hurrying down here on Caladnei's orders when I slipped on these damned stairs.'
'Why the mask?'
'My face is no longer very attractive, sir,' she said, making her voice sound bitter. 'One price of my loyal service.'
'Oh. I see. Ah . . . sorry. Have you no lamp?'
'None, nor permission to use it. My orders are otherwise.'
'Armeld, that'd be,' the other man said disgustedly. 'Always fancies himself battle-lord riding into doom- glory.' He moved aside. 'Pass, lady-but use the rail; it runs right through the next landing, at least. Damned luxurious warehouses these Marsemban nobles built themselves, I must say. Makes you wonder what sort of goods they stored here, eh?'
'Yes, it does. My thanks, sirs,' the Silken Shadow replied cautiously and hastened past, using the rail.
* * * * *
