favored by the Hawkwinters. So gods-be-damnably easy. She tossed her head and glared at a startled servant as they turned into Teshla's Tower and began to climb the spiral stairs to the rooms Grandmama Hawkwinter never left.
That ease is why it must never happen, she vowed silently. I'll not become another wisp-headed cat's claw. I'll see Hawkwinter House hurled down into its own cesspools first!
The seneschal came to the door at the end of the worn red shimmerweave carpet and rang the graceful spiral of brass chimes that hung beside it. Unlatching the heavy door, he swung it wide, stepping smoothly back to usher Ambreene within.
The youngest daughter of the Hawkwinters strode past him with the absently confident air that made the servants privately call her the Little Lady Queen of All Waterdeep. She walked into the dim, quiet apartments that were all the kingdom the once-mighty dowager Lady Hawkwinter had left.
Priceless glowstone sculptures drifted in slow dances as she passed. Enchanted, shimmering paintings of flying elven hunts and dancing lords and ladies flourished their endless animations. A fascinated Ambreene was a good twenty paces into the luxurious chamber when she realized she was alone. There was no trace of the three elderly chamberladies who always lounged by the central bedchamber stair, waiting to be summoned up into Teshla's presence. Ambreene glided to a graceful halt amid the empty lounges, uncertain what to do.
An eye winked open in the smooth ivory sphere adorning one bottom stairpost, and a mouth appeared in the other, speaking in the familiar dry, waspish tones of Grandmama Teshla. 'Come up, girl; I've not much time left.'
A little chill arose inside Ambreene at that calm state ment. Obediently she set foot on the curving stair. It was the summons she'd dreaded, come at last. She gathered her skirts and mounted the steps in haste.
She should have visited Grandmama more often, and stayed longer, despite the watchful, overscented old chamberladies with their vague, condescending comments and endless bright, cultured, empty phrases about the weather. She should have told Lady Teshla-who'd dabbled in dark and daring magic in her younger days, they said- about her own fumbling attempts to master magic. She should have…
Ambreene reached the head of the stairs and came to a shocked halt. Grandmama was quite alone, lying propped up on her pillows in bed. She must have sent the servants away and unbound her hair herself.
A soft-hued driftglobe hovered above the bed, and Ambreene could see that Lady Teshla was wearing a black robe whose arms were writhing, leaping flames of red silk-robes better suited to an evil seductress than the matron of one of the oldest, proudest houses in all Waterdeep. She looked dangerous, and the glint in her old, knowing eyes made that impression even stronger.
Ambreene swallowed. 'Grandmama, I came as qui-'
'Quickly enough, it seems,' the dry voice said, with just a hint of weariness. 'I breathe yet. Stand not there quivering like an unschooled courtesan, girl, but come and give me a kiss-or you may yet be too late.'
Numbly, Ambreene did as she was bid. The old arms trembled as they went around her, but the lips were as firm and imperious as ever. Ambreene looked into the black, bottomless pools of Grandmama's eyes-a falcon's eyes, her father had once called them-and said, 'Grandmama, there's something I must tell you. I've been trying to-'
'Weave a few spells,' Lady Teshla finished the sentence almost impatiently. 'Do you think I don't know this, girl? What way does my favorite window face, now?'
Toward Ambreene's own bedchamber windows, of course, but…
'I'm glad you used the word 'trying.' A right mess you made of the darkshadow cloak,' Teshla said dryly. 'But you have all the grand gestures right, girl. Some young blade'll quake in his boots if he ever tries too much at a dance and you hurl the pig-face curse his way!'
Ambreene flushed in embarrassment-how had Grand-mama, shut in this dim tower, seen that? She was sure she'd managed to restore the old war hound's rightful looks before his frightened yelps had…
The driftglobe swirled and drew her eyes-and suddenly its heart flashed into a view of distant Castle Waterdeep, from above, as if she were standing atop Mount Waterdeep looking down on it!
'That's how I see all,' Teshla told her as the scene faded. Touch the sphere.'
Wonderingly, Ambreene did so. A tingling spread through her from her fingertips, and Teshla nodded approvingly.
'The globe will follow you, now. When you go, all can think I was just bestowing a little magic on my kin before I went to the arms of the gods-but this is why I summoned you.'
A wrinkled hand moved with surprising speed, drawing up the fine chain that had gleamed down into Teshla's shrunken bodice for as long as Ambreene could remember-and bringing into view a delicate silvery metal dragon's head, in profile. Its single eye was a huge dark glossy gem of a sort Ambreene had never seen before in a lifetime of watching wealth drift languidly by at feasts and revels. She stared at it… and it seemed to stare back at her.
'What is it?' she whispered as Teshla drew the chain off over her head with arms once more slow and weary, and held it out.
The Eye of the Dragon, child,' Teshla said softly. 'May it serve you better than it did me-and may you use it far more wisely than I did. Take it.'
The youngest daughter of House Hawkwinter swallowed, and then lifted her head and calmly reached out for the gem. Teshla chuckled at the imperious manner, and then tilted her head to watch her descendant closely… almost warily.
In Ambreene's awed fingers, the gem seemed warm and alive-and weightless, as if it could float on its own. It held power, strong magic that Ambreene could feel through her entire body. She stared at it in amazement, and then looked up almost reluctantly.
'I–I never dreamed so precious a thing was in this house,' she said wonderingly. 'And to be given it… Thank you, Grandmama! All my thanks! I don't know how to say it well enough, but-'
'Know what it does before being so free and eager with your joy,' Teshla cautioned her. 'It is your true inheritance, for only a sorceress can use it. Keep it secret. No one else in this house knows of it… and it is a thing of great power.'
Her dark eyes stared somberly into Ambreene's own. 'Be warned, girl-learn its ways thoroughly, and use it only with great care, for it steals and stores memories, and can leave a man a hollow husk… as I learned, to my cost.'
A frown playing about her brows, Ambreene stared at the old woman. Grandmama turning a man into a… husk? What man could she have been be so interested in-or who would even look at her? It must have been some reckless thief, come to the tallest tower of Hawk-winter House in hopes of stealing some baubles…
'Speculate all you want,' Teshla told her, as if reading her thoughts, 'but waste not the breaths left to me in foolish questions of who and why. That is my own business, and you can learn the truth from the Eye after I am gone. But remember, and beware: it steals memory.'
Ambreene had been about to put the chain over her own neck. She stopped abruptly, looked at the pendant as if it might bite her, and hurriedly slid it into the outermost pocket of her robes.
'Wise,' Teshla said, falling back into her pillows. 'Now that that is done, and…' Her eyes closed, and her voice trailed away.
Ambreene stared at her in alarm. 'Grandmama?' she cried. 'Gra-'
And then she heard the rattle of a drawn breath, and slowly and unsteadily-another. Grandmama still lived… and yet, this would be her deathbed. Soon.
Ambreene stood silently by Lady Teshla's bed for a long time, thinking furiously-and then whirled and left the room, striding hard. The driftglobe sailed silently along in her wake.
She was almost running when she swept past the seneschal, ignoring his surprised look and murmured question. She traversed the Hall of Clouds faster than the old warrior had ever seen her move before; he had to trot to keep up. Instead of storming into her rooms or bursting into tears when her chambermaids rose to greet her, the young lass turned abruptly aside to descend the back stair to the stables, and thence to the gates.
The seneschal clattered after her, clutching his scabbard to keep it from tangling in his legs and sending him into a headlong tumble. 'Lady Ambreene!' he puffed, his voice imperious. 'This is most irregular! Your father said nothing about your going out this day, and with the Great Lady Teshla so nea-'
Ambreene did not bother to turn her head. 'Did he not? Well, go to him, and he shall tell you-but stand in my
