'We're well beneath both the warehouse and Roarke House,' Renaer said. 'This is a listening post built earlier for the resistance to spy on guild loyalists to whom they'd rent out the chambers beyond. Everything said, every noise made, in the two lower chambers can be heard here, where scribes used to sit and copy down everything said for use as evidence or blackmail.'
Faxhal interrupted, wanting some of the attention, 'And there's a secret door in that wall carving there, right?'
Renaer stared at him a moment, then grinned and nodded. 'Yes, and it opens to a tunnel that leads back beneath Roarke House and ends in another secret door.'
'Why would anyone use those chambers if they knew they could be spied upon?' Meloon asked.
'They didn't know anyone could hear any of that until we gave that away this morning,' Renaer said. 'According to our records, all of these secret tunnels and chambers were unknown by old Volam himself when he built Roarke House over the existing cellar and foundation. Others found those chambers, linked them to the house, and converted them for their personal use, but they've been unused since Grandfather bought the building decades back. At least, as far as I know.'-He nodded toward Laraelra and Meloon and added, 'You two probably heard things coming from this chamber filtered through some of those links with the sewers.'
'Why didn't anyone else find out about the tunnels?' Meloon asked.
'If you don't know to look for something,' Faxhal said, 'you'll never be bothered to find it. That's why I always keep looking- and getting accused of poking around where I shouldn't.'
'Faxhal's right,' Renaer said, taking care to keep his voice down, 'at least the first part. We can spot the triggers that are almost invisible on the other side.'
Faxhal pointed out the lock triggers-the stonework swords wielded by the Watchmen in the battle scene. Renaer checked his journal and began moving the stone swords. Faxhal shook his head when Ren moved the second Watchman's sword. 'You just locked the door shut again, chief. Just the two outer swords pushed outward should trigger this door.'
Renaer nodded, scribbling corrections in his notes, and he turned toward the group, who stood around a scraped arc on the floor-the door's obvious path on this side. He said, 'Everyone, get ready. They may have defenses ready in their cellars, even if they aren't expecting any company from this direction.'
Renaer shifted the final trigger, and the door slid in toward them. They looked into a pitch black corridor, lit by the gold light spilling through the now-open door.
'Good.' Faxhal chuckled then he drew his long sword out and brandished it in the air a little before he nodded at Renaer. He hoped Laraelra was impressed, and he added, 'Been itching for a fight all day.'
A sudden twang, and Faxhal snapped backward, a crossbow quarrel lodged in his throat.
'Careful what you wish for, boy,' came the hoarse chuckle from the dark.
The thief felt both the impact at his throat and the crack at the back of his head when he slammed back on the stone floor. I expected that to hurt more, Faxhal thought. His breath caught in his throat and he found it hard to breathe or move. He lost his grip on his sword and heard it rattle on the stone floor. Oh stlaern, I never got the chance to tell her how pretty her eyes were… or save her from this…
The last thing Faxhal heard beyond his own heartbeat was a plaintive gasp from Laraelra's throat as she looked down at him. No love poem, but I'll take it, he thought.
The noise, the smells, the sensations all faded. Faxhal felt lighter and lighter with each heartbeat. Until the heartbeat ended.
CHAPTER 6
Even on the slowest night, the dark is never quiet in Waterdeep.
9 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Jaraelra gasped as Faxhal almost flipped backward. Her signal of true danger was the spray of blood arcing past her own shoulder. She looked down at Faxhal's fallen body in disbelief, the mixture of annoyance and amusement he triggered in her already shifting to horror.
'Down!' Meloon ripped his axe out of its harness, swinging it up into his hands.
Vharem grabbed Faxhal by the collar and pulled him out «f the way. By the time Vharem had his friend behind the door near Renaer, Faxhal had stopped moving and his eyes were open and blank. Renaer pulled out a potion vial from his pouch and looked at Vharem, pleading. Vharem shook his head and reached down to close their friend s eyes. Laraelra couldn't hear everything he said, but she did catch '… farewell, little fox.'
Laraelra shouted out a spell, and blue light rippled out of her, clearing the darkness from the corridor. They faced two men in Watch garb, one kneeling and holding a spent crossbow while next to him an older man with an eye patch waited with a sword and shield. Behind them both stood Samark 'Blackstaff' Dhanzscul, the gem atop his staff flaring red.
Samark waved his hand and red bolts flew from his fingers. Two slammed into Meloon's broad chest, and he grunted but held his ground. Three more arced at Laraelra but skittered around her, feeling like lightning-charged rain on her skin, before they launched themselves back at the Blackstaff.
Laraelra focused, despite the distraction of the Blackstaff’s spell, and cast another spell of her own. She pulled up an amber energy that crackled among her fingers until she pointed at Samark and said, 'Drialrokh!'
That bolt hit its target unerringly-his throat. Laraelra smiled as she watched color drain from the already-pale face of the Black-staff when he realized he could not speak. The wizard turned and ran, to the surprise and anger of his two guards. The eye-patched one stepped forward, yelling, 'Get that crossbow restrung or draw your blade, boy! They'll not be much bother for us, e'en without hisself.'
'Meloon?' Laraelra shouted as she stepped back and to the side of the opening.
Meloon jumped into the corridor, swinging his axe wide with both hands, forcing the corridor's two guardians to shuffle back a bit from the door. 'Hope I'm bothersome enough, one-eye.'
The older man grumbled and spat in Meloon's path, but he and his companion backed up farther from the swinging axe.
Laraelra looked down at Faxhal, caught both Vharem and Renaer's eyes, and whispered, 'Avenge him.'
Renaer's reached into his wide sleeves and pulled a dagger from each one.
Vharem drew a short sword out of his belt and whispered to Renaer, 'Didn't think we'd need these, but thanks for the loan.'
The sorceress looked up and saw the younger guard raising his spanned crossbow. She concentrated, waved her hand, and the crossbow quarrel flipped out of the stock just as he pulled the trigger.
Renaer dived and rolled in a somersault, staying low but moving forward. Vharem stepped into the corridor's opening after Renaer, holding a dart in one hand and a short sword in the other. Renaer stopped in a crouch before the guard, adding the momentum of his roll to his two thrown daggers. One missed, sailing past the guard's shoulder, but the second one hit him in his hand, forcing him to drop the crossbow. The guard kicked out at Renaer with little effect. Vharem let his dart fly and hit the young guard in the thigh. He stayed back behind Renaer and Meloon, who parried the older man's blade with his axe.
'You've had good teachers if you're not taking the first swing at me, boy,' the gravel-voiced man said to Meloon. 'Too bad you gave up your only advantage.' The older man stabbed his long sword forward and Meloon brought his axe up, making the blade scrape along his mail shirt instead of piercing it. Meloon countered by swinging the double-bladed axe back down toward the man's side. The older man brought around a shield, and the loud clash of weapon and shield filled the corridor.
Laraelra stood back at the corridor's opening, harnessing her anger at letting the Blackstaff escape as she thrust quicksilver-colored missiles at the two guards. She willed one upon each of them, and the young guard fell
