Elminster Must Die

El tugged the tile out-it came away in pieces, just like last time, brown and dripping-and thrust his fingers into the hole it had come from. There was a cavity in one side of that hole, within the thickness of the wall, and- aye! — the reassuring smooth hardness was there. Or rather, hardnesses, five of them. He closed his filthy fingers around the uppermost and then the lowest, drew them both forth, and shoved the tile back into place, piece by piece.

When he was done, the vials, guarded against rust by their own magic, were entirely hidden in fresh, wet dung.

El sighed, wiped his hands on random nearby walls until matters had been reduced to what might delicately be termed “smeared,” then trudged back up the alley until he could find space enough to set the vials down on bare stone, spit on his hands so as to clean them enough to thrust them under his robe to reach his clout, and arrange himself so as to let fly all over the vials, washing them … well, not clean, but a lot cleaner.

So he could twist the uppermost open-an enchanted cap rather than a cork; well, the Art advanced in little things as well as large-and drink its contents down.

It tasted like cold, clear, mint sugar water, soothing all the way down … and brought in its wake that surging, warming thrill of healing, the banishment of the fire in his ribs, the stiffnesses, and all the small aches and pains he’d acquired since the last time he’d had to crawl down that alley.

When all of that was gone, El stood up straight, squared his shoulders, then thrust both vials-the lower one was reassuringly heavy with good Cormyrean coins he’d soon be needing-into his under-robe pouch and started for the street again. He felt whole and strong. Not to mention wealthier.

“See?” Arclath told her as triumphantly as if he were personally responsible. “I told you! Behold, dawn!”

Amarune nodded wearily, stumbling. Only his arm through hers was holding her up. For what seemed like hours they’d been walking the streets of Suzail together, a Purple Dragon plodding along behind tailing them as Amarune led her inanely chattering escort on a random meander across the city, waiting for his anger to rise.

Dreading the moment when Arclath stopped, refusing to go along with her obvious deception any longer and protesting that she was leading him astray. A protest that would reveal that he already knew where she dwelt.

A moment that hadn’t yet come, though there was a gleam in his eye that she was beginning to think meant he was grinning inwardly at her tactic and happily going along with it.

The noble had kept up a constant, never-flagging stream of light, inane-and one-sided-converse.

“Dawn,” she gasped, feeling she had to say something. “I’m … enchanted.”

“And so am I!” Arclath agreed with enthusiasm. “Charmed, even! I find you the most beautiful woman to ever adorn my arm, and await that moment of full glory when you reveal to me the full sparkle of your wit, the bright edge of your tongue-in the conversational sense of course, lady fair, for I would not want even the slightest misunderstanding to lead you to take offense at a slander that was not meant, no, no, not at all! — the full grandeur, as I was saying, of your happily attentive company! At a time when you are not tired, not shocked by the horrible events of earlier this night, and not grieving the loss of your longtime and staunchly loyal employer! In short, when you can be your full and engaging self! When you can-”

“Somehow shut you up,” Amarune snarled, in spite of herself. “Gods above, do all nobles carry themselves through their every waking moment of life on rivers of babbling drivel?”

“In a word, Lady: yes.” Arclath’s grin told her he wasn’t abashed in the slightest. “So, how would you contemplate shutting me up? No violence, please, you know how I abhor viol-”

“Yes, I noticed you abhorring it right skillfully, earlier,” Amarune sighed. “Though I probably owe you my life a time or six. So have my thanks, Lord Delcastle, and I’m done trying to deceive you. I no longer care if you learn where I live.”

“My lady! Has that been your concern, all this time? That I might discover the whereabouts of your abode? Has preventing that dark secret-though how it can truly be dark, I fail to conceive-been the pursuit that now has you nigh staggering with weariness?”

“It has,” Amarune said grimly. “Let’s go. This way.”

“Lady, your every command is my fond wish!”

“Really? How is it that you’re still alive, then?”

“Amarune Whitewave, you’re snarling!”

“Mask dancers snarl all the time, Lord Delcastle. Want to know what else we can do?”

“Lady, I thought you’d never be so bold! Of course I-”

“Of course you do,” Amarune said with the most withering sarcasm she could muster as she turned a familiar corner and headed into an even more familiar midyard that … seemed to be swarming with Purple Dragons.

Several of those officers were already giving them hard stares, and-gods above! — there were Dragons searching every alley, balcony, and outside stair in sight. There were even Dragons up on her roof.

Not to mention a large, grim cluster of them standing over … no. Oh, no.

A Purple Dragon moved to intercept them, two of his fellows walking to where they could surround the two. “Your names, and business here?”

“I am Lord Arclath Delcastle,” the nobleman snapped pointedly, “and I am escorting this lady to her home, by order of a Watch officer of the Purple Dragons. And yours?”

“My what?”

“Your name, soldier.”

“I’ll ask the questions here for now, my lord. You can have my name for your inevitable complaint later. Now, which officer would it be who gave you this or-”

“He’s telling truth, Randelo,” a gravelly man’s voice said rather sullenly from behind Amarune. “I can vouch for their whereabouts and deeds-seeing as they’ve been leading me all over Suzail for half the night.” It was the Dragon who’d been following them since their departure from the club.

He was giving the young couple a rather baleful glance as he added, “Stlarning boots hurt worse’n ever. Shouldn’t wonder if they’re full of blood down by my toes, right now.”

“Ah, the price of shining service,” Arclath remarked. Turning back to their questioner, he said with dignity, “Seeing as we’ve just been cleared of any involvement in this unfortunate, ah, death, please withdraw from us a pace or two, so as to accord us some small measure of privacy. This is a lady of high moral standing, despite what you may think-for I have found that far too many Purple Dragons have low, coarse minds-and I have no intention of damaging her reputation by entering her domicile at this time of night.”

That little speech earned him an eloquent eye roll and a mockingly elaborate bow from both Dragons, but they did withdraw, muttering together.

Arclath pointedly turned his back on them, shielding Amarune from their scrutiny with his broad shoulders, and murmured, “So, would you like me to leave you here, Lady, with a suspicious death-almost undoubtedly a murder-hard by wherever you live, but with the dubious safety of Purple Dragons very much in evidence everywhere? Or-?”

“Or yield myself to your tender mercies in your noble mansion?”

“I do have some measure of honor, Lady,” Delcastle murmured, almost sadly.

They regarded each other in sober, unsmiling silence for a breath or two, before Amarune almost whispered, “Lord Delcastle, did you hear what the wizard called me?”

“The Silent Shadow? I had dismissed that from my mind. A wild, baseless accusation, that-”

“No,” Amarune said firmly, suddenly finding she did not want to lie to this man. “No, it’s not. I am the Silent Shadow, though my silence has been the quiet of inaction this past season.”

She gave him a glare, suddenly defiant. “So, are you going to denounce me to yon Dragons? See me flogged, stripped of every last coin, and jailed? There’ll be nobles enough wanting my blood, to be sure, and-”

“And I am not one of them,” Arclath interrupted smoothly. “Putting one over on my fellow highborn is what I do, whenever possible. I might add that occasionally I indulge in undertakings of low moral character myself … and I find that this is one of those times.”