The Hulorn's Guards worked in teams with spears to kill the last of the gnashers. Other guards fought the fire or shepherded neighbors to safety. Two hillmen lay dead and two more were trussed on their knees. Household goods, books, and clothes were strewn in the street. Proud Helara watched the blaze, a smirk on her face. Magdon and Ophelia stared in awe. Selgauntians milled, clustered, asked questions, and got in the way.
From the madness, Escevar trotted up and clapped Tamlin's shoulder. He was smudgy and bloody but grinning. 'Deuce! Thank the fates you're alive! And you found Zarrin! Bravo! We won all around! Ratigan, that green wizard, ran screaming with his clothes half-turned to stone and his hair afire! And you'll never guess who showed up! Padrig the Palmer! He ran up flapping his hands because his house was burning! He rented it to the wizard! That's how he knew about Ratigan!'
'That answers a few questions.' Tamlin spoke over Zarrin's blonde head. 'So what did you do? '
'Oh, nothing,' Escevar evaded. 'What with all those flying sword blades, Padrig got whacked on the head and fell in the cellar, poor chap.'
With a rush and gush, the house collapsed into its foundation. Sparks vomited into the sky. Trees sizzled like fireworks. People shouted. Escevar spotted someone and ran off with a laugh.
'I can't believe you took advantage of my misfortune.' Zarrin peered from the folds of Tamlin's cape. 'That was unfair, Tamlin. It was low and rotten. Holding someone's feet to the fire to drive a better bargain is vile, slimy, underhanded, deceitful and-unkind.'
The girl shivered and snuggled into Tamlin's arms. 'I'm just cold, so don't get any ideas. I'll admit, though, you were clever. I'd have done the same. Maybe there's hope for you, Tamlin. With all the schemes coming to a boil in this city, my family might find you useful if you care to stay with business.'
'Oh, I don't know.' Tamlin looked at the running burning raging chaos that engulfed the early morning street. 'I find business so dull.'
THE DAUGHTER
'Who are you,' asked the lion faced man, above the din of the music.
'I'm not sure myself,' giggled his raven-haired dance companion, 'and even if I did know, why should I tell you?' With that, she threw back her head and laughed deeply as her partner spun her around the floor. The sound drew a few surprised stares from some of the nearby couples, but most merely smiled indulgently to themselves. Thazienne Uskevren was well known for her exuberance.
Tonight was one of Lliira's celebrations, and the Uskevren had opened the doors of Stormweather to some of the many revelers this evening. The main hall was filled with some of the most renowned members of Selgaunt's elite.
The partygoers wore various degrees of costumes for the event. Some sported only masques with their evening finery, while others had gone to incredible extremes to look the roles they assumed for the night. Musicians played nonstop and the aroma of richly flavored delicacies drifted throughout the hall.
'May I cut in,' a man asked Thazienne's partner, as he gently pulled the pair aside.
'Now just a moment,' the lion began to bluster at the tall, cloaked and hooded figure, 'the song isn't yet finished.'
The hooded man, however, simply passed his hand in front of the lion's face. All protest faded from his voice. Thazienne's partner immediately faced her and sweetly took his leave. At the lion's departure, the hooded man tilted his head questioningly and held out his hand in offer to Thazienne. She, however, miffed at the turn of events calmly drew out a dagger that was more than just decorative. The hooded man did not move. Something in the manner of the stranger's stance was familiar to her, and Thazienne used the point of her weapon to flick the hood back. Gray eyes, hawklike in their intensity, stared down at her. She moved the dagger under his chin. The cloaked man stood still, staring at her as the nearby dancers, too caught up in the music to notice the scene unfolding nearby, rushed past them.
'I would appreciate it greatly,' he finally said 'if you would kindly point your little needle somewhere else.' He lowered his glance meaningfully at her dagger, which was still under his chin.
'Please forgive me,' Thazienne replied in a mock apology.
With that, she flipped the dagger around so that it landed point down, on one of her gloved fingers. While balancing the dagger there, she gave a deep bow like a mummer and directed the gentleman to the dance floor. She returned her weapon to its hiding place and accepted his hand.
After a few turns, she sternly admonished the muscular, blond man. 'Steorf, I told you never to play those kinds of tricks with me.'
'The spell was completely unintentional and unconsciously instinctive,' he replied. 'I simply did not want to cause a fuss this evening. It appeared the easiest way.'
The tenseness melted from her face as she smirked at him. Her deep green eyes lost their harsh glare and she giggled softly.
'To tell the truth,' she admitted to him quietly, 'I'm a little jealous. Even I can't get rid of men that quickly. Maybe one time you could teach me that trick,' she teased.
'You know I don't give away trade secrets, Tazi,' he replied, calling her by a nickname only a handful used. 'My mother would never forgive me,' he added seriously.
Always aware of how somber he could be in public, Tazi picked up the pace of their dance and tried to lighten his mood. 'And just what are you supposed to be this evening, all dressed in black,' she asked.
'I am simply part of the shadows,' was all he would say.
Seeing that she was getting no where, Tazi broke away from his arms and pirouetted in front of him. 'What do you think I am, then?'
Steorf escorted Tazi away from the dance floor and then stared at her for a minute. The dress she wore was not a popular style. She had started of late, he had noticed, to wear Cormyrean fashions. The blood-red dress was made from some sumptuous, velvety material and clung to her suggestively. Her flat slippers peeped out from under the loose, full skirt. The tight sleeves accentuated her strong, slim arms and the fitted gold breastpiece accentuated more. Covering her delicate face was an elaborate mask of long, black feathers that blended into her short, equally black locks.
'I would say you are some kind of exotic bird, escaped from the Hulorn's Hunting Garden,' he said and then added after a glance, 'or you are the bane of your mother's existence.' Steorf nodded toward the fuming matriarch of the Uskevren standing some paces distant and watching them closely.
Tazi glanced quickly at her mother and then turned away. 'Oh, she's always angry. I can't seem to do anything right in her eyes.'
'Is she still furious about your hair?' he asked.
'Well,' Tazi began, justifying herself, 'this length suites me better, and long hair certainly does not go well with Cormyrean dress.' She stepped back and curtsied slightly once more.
'Nor does it go well with some of your other activities,' Steorf observed slyly.
She was about to shoot back with an angry retort, but fell silent as her mother approached.
'Good even to you, young mage,' the matriarch saluted Steorf politely. 'Are you enjoying yourself this celebration night?'
Steorf bowed deeply and replied, 'I am, Madame Shamur. Once again the Uskevren have hosted a most successful fete. I am honored to be counted amongst your guests.'
'It seems that your mother, Elaine, is not present,' the ash blonde noticed sadly after scanning the hall.
'No, milady. My mother asked me to carry her regrets.'
'Well,' Shamur offered graciously, 'I am sure the premier mage of Selgaunt does not always have the luxury of free time.' She turned her steel gray eyes toward her daughter at that last remark. 'Speaking of free time, Thazienne, have you seen Talbot this evening?'
