The Emerald Scepter

either, for that matter,' he added.

Junce grimaced and glared at Falagh for a long moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Falagh saw Lavant give the barest hint of a nod, and Junce sighed as though caving to Falagh's demand. 'Very well,' he said, his tone almost too contrite. 'I will speak to our host and see if he is willing to agree to your terms. But I promise you, his acquiescence won't come cheaply.'

'Oh, I fully expect Lord Wianar will want to get his hands deeply into our pie after this,' Falagh said, knowing he sounded smug. 'I just wanted you two to finally admit it.' When Junce's glare deepened, Falagh laughed. 'I am not a fool, and I have warned you not to underestimate me before. Perhaps now, Lord Wianar will be willing to show his intentions more openly.'

'I have a question,' Grozier asked, interrupting the staring contest. 'You said you managed to capture Emriana. But what happened to her companion? A Waukeenar priest, I believe?'

Junce nodded. 'Yes, some young whelp from the Darowdryn household, I believe. He really wasn't much more trouble than Emriana. My 'associates,' as you referred to them, are disposing of him now. Both he and the other mercenary, Miquillon, in fact. Fool man wouldn't stop begging me to release Xaphira into his hands. I grew tired of his pleading.'

Lavant grunted. 'Pilos Darowdryn? I'm not sure killing him is such a good idea,' he grumbled. 'I couldn't care less what happens to the mercenary, but if Pilos doesn't return to his family or the temple at the end of the evening, the entire Darowdryn clan may begin asking some very pointed questions. We just got House Matrell out of the way. We don't want more of the same trouble from Ariskrit and Steelfists.'

Junce shrugged. 'He'll be found floating in the bay tomorrow, I'm sure,' he said. 'Inquiries will be made, but I'm certain no one in the Darowdryn House will openly point out that their whelp was poking around in Wianar's dungeons, now will they?'

'Nonetheless, they will investigate,' Lavant countered. 'That's attention we just can't have right now. We need a better solution.'

'Why don't we replace him?' Grozier suggested.

Falagh turned to look at the man. 'How do you mean?' he asked.

For an answer, Grozier motioned to his sister. 'Marga, darling, come over here for a moment and give these gentlemen a quick glimpse of your more interesting talents.'

The woman nodded, gave them all a rather conniving smile, and began to change like clay molded by an artist.

Falagh wasn't sure he believed what he was seeing at first, for Marga Matrell became somewhat gray and blurry for a moment. In the next instant, she was someone else, a young man dressed in the garb of the Temple of Waukeen, with a white billowy shirt, matching trousers, and a doublet of rich crimson.

'I encountered Pilos earlier this evening, at the punch bowl, shortly after the Darowdryns first arrived,' the image of the lad said in a youthful male voice quite unlike Marga's. 'It won't be hard at all to convince his family that I am still alive,' he added with a wicked grin.

Falagh nearly choked. 'That's brilliant,' he said, though he was also uneasy at having been so cleverly fooled. Well, at least that explains why Marga was so agreeable, he thought. 'What… are you?' he asked.

The copy of Pilos seemed affronted by the question, but Grozier interposed himself between the two of them. 'Suffice it to say that I pay them well for their services, and let's leave it at that,' he said. 'They are rather sensitive about their privacy.'

Falagh nodded and made a gesture of apology. 'Of course,' he said, though he was still fascinated. 'And you said 'them?' So you have employed more than one?'

Grozier nodded. 'For a time, it was necessary to have them pose as Marga's twin children, so no one else in the family would know that I had taken them to House Talricci for safekeeping,' he chuckled. It was a cold, mirthless laugh. 'Now that no one is left to oppose me within the House, I see no need to continue the ruse. The children can return to their mother, and we can employ my special friends here for other things.'

'Such as posing as Pilos,' Falagh finished. 'Brilliant,' he repeated.

'Or for spying on other Houses,' Grozier said with a smug grin. 'The other one is still at the party, mingling with the other guests in the guise of a distant cousin.'

'How interesting,' Lobra said, insinuating herself into the conversation once again. She looked at the duplicate of Pilos and said, 'Perhaps you or your companion might be interested in working for me for a short time. I have an idea that might just be delightful.'

The mimicking creature nodded, though Falagh noticed that Grozier frowned.

Doesn't like to share, does he? the Mestel scion thought.

'I'd love to stay and chat about all the possibilities of imitating our enemies,' Junce interrupted, 'but I have places I need to be tonight. Events in Reth still require my attention. So I assume we've settled all the issues that concerned you two gentlemen about tonight's activities?'

Grozier nodded, but Falagh had one last point. 'The mirror,' he reminded them all. 'How do I get the mirror?'

'Ah, that,' Junce said, grimacing. 'Come with me, then. And bring your wizard, Grozier. We'll need his talents to get the thing safely to House Pharaboldi.'

As the group dispersed, Falagh followed the assassin down into the deeper parts of the palace. He was still concerned about Eles Wianar's meddling.

But there are ways to get around that, he thought, a plan already beginning to form in his mind.

Marga hadn't realized she had dozed off until a light from the hallway beyond her room awakened her. She squinted in the brightness of it, realizing somewhere in the back of her mind that it had grown dark outside, and that no lanterns had yet been lit in her chambers. Whoever had opened the door was speaking to her, but Marga was too groggy to understand any of it at first. She just wanted them to pull the door shut again and let her go back to sleep.

Then all the horrible memories came rushing back to her, and she sat bolt upright on the bed.

It was Mirolyn Skolotti, and she had brought a tray of food. 'Lady Marga, are you hungry?' she asked as she moved to set the meal on a side table. She carried a taper candle she had brought with her and began to light the various lanterns hanging from hooks on the walls and ceilings. The entire chamber was soon bathed in warm amber light.

'No, not really,' Marga heard herself say. 'Just leave the tray and I'll try it a bit later. I really want to rest.' Don't listen to my words! she thought, silently struggling to say something else. Help me!

Mirolyn looked at her, hands on her hips. 'Lady Marga, I know it's been a hard few tendays for you, with all that's gone on around here, and today was particularly difficult, with the passing of Lady Hetta and all. But wouldn't you feel better if you came out into the sitting room to be with everyone else? Don't you think that would make you feel a little better?'

'No,' Marga lied. 'I just want to rest, by myself, in here.' No, I don't! she silently screamed, unable even to contort her face to make her frantic feelings obvious to the other woman. Damn you, Bartimus, what did you do to me?

Mirolyn started to shake her head and say something else, but then she seemed to think better of it and snapped her mouth shut again. She took one last glance around the room and her frown deepened. 'Where are the children? I just realized I haven't seen them all day.'

Marga wanted to sob. My babies, she thought. Please help me save my precious babies. Instead, she simply said, 'They went to stay at House Talricci for a couple of days. I thought it better for them, with the gloom that has settled here.'

Mirolyn scowled at the mention of Marga's brother, but she was too polite to voice her dislike. 'Very well,' she said at last. 'I'll leave you alone, then.' And she turned to depart. Then she turned back at the door and said, 'If you need anything, you come find me, all right?'

'I'm sure I'll be fine, but thank you, Mirolyn.' Don't leave! I don't want to be alone! Please come back! Please figure it out!

But Mirolyn did leave, pulling the door shut behind her, never noticing the single tear that ran down the woman's face.