temples.'
'How fascinating! What can you tell me about this festival?'
'Nothing.' Arilyn softened the refusal with a faint smile. 'I am sorry, but there is no way to explain it. Some elven rites are not allowed to be revealed to humans, and even if they were, they would not be fully experienced or understood.'
Bronwyn took no offense. She glanced over at Danilo, who was happily leafing through some old tomes at the far side of the shop. 'Humans use the Weave,' she said, naming the mystic force that shaped all magic, 'but elves are part of it. They are also one with the land, and the sea, and the patterns of the sun and stars. This much I know, even though I could never experience it as you would. I have heard that the times of solstice and equi shy;nox are sacred to the elves. I know that such times were celebrated with fertility rituals by many ancient human cultures. I did not mean to offend you by implying that elven festivals were the same and nothing more.'
'You understand more than I thought,' Arilyn responded. To her surprise, it was not only easy to speak of this, but comforting. 'No offense was taken. Yes, these are times of revelry among the elves. Many marriages are made, friendships celebrated in intimate ways, but this is part of a larger, mystic connection-connection to all elves, and to the Weave of magic and the very circle of life.'
'And only elves are accepted,' the woman repeated. She smiled faintly. 'To a limited degree, I understand. Perhaps Dan has told you of my life. I spent most of it searching for my family, my past. This meant every shy;thing to me. I found my father and lost him all in the space of a few hours, but I came away from that experi shy;ence feeling like a whole person for the first time in my life. I can't imagine what it would mean to a half-elf to be invited to take part in such a festival.'
Arilyn met the woman's warm, sympathetic gaze. She took from the pocket of her breeches a small stone knife, sharp as steel and carved with a feather pattern. This she handed to Bronwyn. 'Add this to the Temple's store. It is as precious as anything there.'
The woman hesitated, demonstrating for the first time that her understanding was more human than elven. 'You are sure you want to part with this?'
'Midsummer gifts are also part of the whole. The wheel turns, and they are often given anew with the coming of another summer.'
Bronwyn nodded her thanks. Arilyn handed her the stone knife, a gift from Foxfire, the elf who had offered her the first true acceptance she had ever received from her mother's people-and who had changed her life. Without Foxfire, she would not have come to terms with her own divided nature or learned that though her soul was elven, her heart belonged to a human man.
A heavy thud drew her attention. She glanced over at Danilo. He stooped quickly to pick up the tome he had dropped, but not before Arilyn saw his gaze dart from the knife in her hand to the green treasures in Bron shy;wyn's case. Not before stunned comprehension flooded his face.
Bronwyn glanced from Danilo back to Arilyn, and her brown eyes widened with chagrin. 'He didn't know.'
'No.'
In truth, Arilyn had never seen need to speak of that Midsummer night. The initial joy of her reunion with Dan had swept aside all other considerations. Shortly after, she had been called back to the forests to aid the embattled elves. There had been little in her life since then to bring to mind the sacred revels of Midsummer.
Now she tried to see the matter as Danilo might. Few humans could understand the true nature of elven fes shy;tivals. They would see her participation as a shallow indulgence. Danilo, though, knew more of the elves than did most men, and he valued highly what he knew.
That could be more of a problem than a blessing. Just last night, he had been ready to give her up rather than separate her from the magic of her elven sword. Arilyn was not sure how he would respond to the knowledge that she had known an elven love.
'It'll be fine,' Bronwyn said with quiet urgency. 'Dan has reason to know that lovers can become friends, con shy;tent to leave the past as it was.'
Arilyn looked at her with sudden comprehension. She felt no jealousy over this revelation. Even if she were so inclined, that emotion would have been an unworthy response to Bronwyn's obviously well-meaning concern. 'Why do you tell me this?'
'For his own good,' the woman said as she took Arilyn's hand in a sisterly clasp. 'Use it if you have to. Just don't let him do anything noble and foolish.'
The half-elf gave her new friend a small, wry smile. 'Apparently you know that that's more easily said than done.'
'What of it? Men are not put here to make our lives easy,' Bronwyn announced. 'They're just put here.'
Despite the situation, this amused the half-elf. 'Any more words of advice?'
'Yes.' Bronwyn nodded toward Dan, who was staring fixedly at the far wall and absently stirring through a tray of fragile coral jewelry. 'Get him out of here before he breaks something.'
Six
The hum and bustle of the streets enveloped Danilo and Arilyn as they left The Curious Past behind. Bron shy;wyn's shop was not far from the market, a vast, open-air bazaar that dominated the northern end of Waterdeep's Castle Ward.
They walked in silence, weaving their way through the crowds. Usually Danilo took great pleasure in the sights and sounds of the colorful district, but today he felt as if he were walking through an illusion. His senses noted the ringing, musical cries of the street ven shy;dors, the salty warm scent of the pretzels draped over the T-shaped crook carried by a young man with a much-freckled countenance and a jaunty purple cap. He heard the loudly whispered boasts of the two small lads who leaned out from a second story window and attempted with twine and wooden hooks to snare some of the pretzels.
He led the way through the maze of shops with the surety of long experience. Over the years, Danilo had spent a great deal of time in the market. Almost every shy;thing a wealthy man could desire flowed to this place.
Merchants from up and down the Sword Coast brought wares from every corner of Faerun and from the exotic lands beyond. Craftsmen from the Trades Ward rumbled north with their wagons loaded with simple, necessary goods: barrels, tack and saddles for riding horses, iron utensils for tending fires and stirring pots. Blacksmiths, coopers, brewers, cobblers-all plied their wares in the market alongside the silks and gems of distant lands. Fragrant smoke rose with the sun as vendors and tavern keepers stoked fires in anticipation of the midday meal.
The only thing lacking, and the only thing Danilo re shy;quired at present, was privacy. The answers he wished to know would be hard enough to hear under any cir shy;cumstances. He could hardly shout delicate questions over the bustle of morning commerce.
He turned up Bazaar Street toward the quieter resi shy;dential area. Arilyn fell into step without argument. The crowd thinned as they moved west from the market, and before long they strode the broad, cobbled walks along Suldoun Street.
The townhouse he called home was tall, narrow, and elegant. It was tucked neatly alongside other, similar homes, most of them owned by young members of the merchant nobility. The front was finished stone, the peaked and gabled roof tiled with multicolored slate. Tall windows of many small panes, some of them col shy;ored glass, flanked the door. Decorative iron gates enclosed the small front courtyard and led into the narrow walkways on either side of the building and the garden courtyard beyond.
The tinkling song of the bellflowers drifted out to the street. Danilo's hand paused on the latch of one gate. He had intended to lead the way into the garden, which he'd spent nearly four years designing and perfecting. The elven garden was remarkable, boasting flowers that chimed with the passing of sea breezes, blue roses entwining elaborate arches. Reproductions of a pair of elven statues-the originals he had donated to the Pan shy;theon
