of five apprentice gemcutters-and your name remains a mystery to me. So what is it?'
'Elminster Aumar, though most folk know me better as 'Elmin-ster of Shadowdale.' I'm also called the Old Mage, the Old Sage, and a lot of less polite names and titles, besides. Wiser now?'
'I've heard of Elminster the Great, the Meddler of Mystra, who did things in Waterdeep centuries ago. I guess you're named after him.'
'Ye could say that, yes.' The old wizard smiled thinly. 'Now that we know each other somewhat better, lass, suppose ye set aside thy fury and tell me true: are ye beholden to anyone? Working with anyone? Spying for anyone? Hired out to do any task?'
'No,' Narnra replied, anger flaring again. 'No, no, and no again!' So he believed nothing of what she'd said, did he?
'Can't you tell truth when you hear it? Or d'ye not want to hear words that don't fit with how you've already judged me? You didn't show yon Red Wizard much kindness!'
'He deserves none, believe me.'
'Hah!' Narnra snarled down from where the mists held her. 'What if I don't believe you? Why should I? You slyly hint that I lie, and that you know a lot more about my mother than I do, and that wizards must do what wizards must do. Well, as to that, all I see and hear is that wizards do just as they please and cloak self-interest in a lot of grand words and hints that they're doing things important that protect all Faerun and all of us with it! Yet do they show any proof of this?'
The smile stealing onto the Old Mage's face seemed a little sad around the edges. 'What proof would ye believe, Narnra?'
'I … I …'
Elminster spread his hands. 'Ye see? Rage ye have to spare, and no wonder, for I've endangered ye and scared ye, and my power lies as sharp as any blade between us. Furious ye are that I trust thee not-yet do ye trust me?'
Narnra stared down at him. 'No,' she whispered. 'Not yet.'
'Ah. Ye want to. So do I, thee. So how can we build trust between us?'
The thief floating in the mists frowned then said, 'Why don't you tell me some answers to things I ask?'
The white-bearded wizard grinned. 'As ye said to me: so ask your questions, and I'll try to keep to the truth.'
Narnra managed a smile. 'When did you first meet my mother, and why?'
'If Maerjanthra Shalace the sorceress is also Maerjanthra Shal-ace the jeweler of Waterdeep,' Elminster replied, 'I first met her in the ruins of a elven palace in the Sword Coast North some seventy summers ago, when she looked to be about the same age as ye are now. She was with a band of adventurers, seeking tomb-riches to plunder-something I was there to foil.'
'Seventy winters? But that's impossible! Mother . . .'
'Told ye exactly how old she was, ever?'
'No, but. . .'
'But by her looks ye assumed she was at most twenty or thirty seasons older than ye?'
Narnra nodded and burst out, 'And-and if she was a sorceress, could she have . . . done something to me? With magic?'
'Ah,' the Old Mage said slowly, 'ye begin to see the roots of my interest. Have ye ever had . . . strange dreams? Feelings of power rising in ye or running through ye? When my magic touched ye, did ye have any . . . visions? Feelings of power?'
The Silken Shadow looked down at him and shook her head. 'No.' Her voice was little more than a whisper. From somewhere beyond the mists came an angry crackle of fire that could only be Caladnei striving to win free or to work magic.
'Then,' Elminster told her gently, 'my answer must be: I know not.'
Narnra drew a deep breath and asked, 'So if you knew my mother so well, who was my father?'
The wizard shrugged.
The thief floated in silence for a few breaths, frowning at him, then asked, 'You said 'first met' my mother. How many other times did you meet her?'
'Dozens. Scores.' The Old Mage shrugged. 'We dwelt together in Waterdeep, one spring, when I had some business among the nobility of thy city: the house was mine, and a dozen lady adventurers took rooms there.'
'A dozen, with one man-a wizard? Didn't folk talk?'
Elminster cocked one eyebrow. 'Talk? Waterdeep must have changed more than I'd thought.'
The white-bearded man below her seemed to shimmer, and suddenly Narnra was staring at a tall, willowy, high-bosomed woman with a steely gaze and an imperious grace that transcended the ill-fitting, none-too-clean old wizard's robes that hung upon her body. 'Besides, we were a house of women,' a softer, huskier version of Elminster's voice replied. The mists whirled about the woman, sparks flared, Narnra blinked-and the old wizard was standing below her once more.
Narnra drew in a deep breath. 'And were you a woman all the time? Did you live with your renters, or did everyone keep to their own rooms and trust in locks?'
Elminster chuckled. 'Ye sound like a disapproving priest, lass. Beyond the outside doors, there were no locks; the rooms were shared. Men-and women-were in and out, as is the normal way of things, and there were fights, and loving . . . and though I spent much of my time in other, grander houses, wearing other-and grander, if it comes to that-shapes, I lived with those ladies, yes.'
'Slept with them?' Narnra asked sharply. 'One Maerjanthra Shalace in particular?'
The Old Mage smiled. 'Aye, and aye. This would have been forty-and-some summers back.'
'You never saw her after that?'
'Nay, our paths crossed every few years, when I came to Water-deep for some purpose or other.'
'My mother was your mistress?'
'No, I'd not put it that way-nor would she have done. She had her lovers, and I mine. We liked to talk and catch up on things for an evening, when the gods granted us time and chance.'
Narnra glared at him. 'When did you last . . . spend the night together?'
Elminster regarded her thoughtfully. ' Twas either twenty or twenty-two years ago.' A smile crossed his face. 'Ye seem to be drifting into thinking I fathered ye. That cannot be.'
'Oh? How so?'
'Wizards are targets all their lives, lass . . . and all too vulnerable, most of the time. Bearing a child is no light thing to one who works magic, and becoming with child unintended can be deadly-not just to the babe and its mother. Magic can twist the unborn into monsters.'
'Wherefore?'
'Wherefore most mages use magic to prevent what isn't wanted or know when 'tis safe to not take such trouble.'
'Were you both 'most mages'?'
'Maerjanthra was. Stronger bonds are laid on me.'
''Stronger bonds'? What 'stronger bonds'?'
'Mystra, the goddess I serve, decides when her Chosen shall-'
Narnra's head swam.
Chosen? Then this could only be the Elminster.
Worse than that: at the sound of Elminster saying the divine name Mystra a blue-white fury of fire seemed to burst silently in Narnra's head-a conflagration that flew apart into seven whirling stars before she could even gasp.
They spun themselves into a circle, she had the impression of a gigantic but unseen feminine smile, and in the heart of the circle of stars a dark and long-hidden door seemed to fall open in her mind. Through it she heard Goraun chuckling to Jonczer, 'Ah, Maerj tricked the Old Bearded One this time! I'm going to love seeing the look on his face when he finds out! Lord High-And-Mighty Blackstaff looked sick enough for the both of them when he came to the door. Aye, that was him-for once the tavern-lasses told you true! Seems Maerj went to him for a spell to let her have the Old Meddler's child under his nose, so to speak, and Khelben threw her out of his tower . . . only to come to the door like a beggar half a day later, with a face as long as last winter and a scroll in his hand. He said
