a thing. Just recently, in fact, she had seen Elaith Craulnober toy with a tren assassin, in very similar fashion.
Her sharp ears caught the sound of furtive foot shy;steps on the walkway outside the shop. She rocked back onto her heels and rose in a single, swift move. Gliding over to the door, she drew her sword and ges shy;tured for Danilo to move to the other side of the frame.
Slowly the door eased open, and a small, furtive faced peered around the corner. Arilyn stepped in and pressed the tip of her blade against Diloontier's throat.
The perfumer shrieked and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could block out the double terror of the looming sword and the carnage beyond. His face paled to the color of old parchment, and the bones of his legs seemed to melt to the consistency of jellied eel.
Before Arilyn could speak, Danilo seized the swaying man by the front of his shirt and jerked him into the room. He shook the perfume merchant as a vermin hound might worry a rat. This served to bring some color back to the man's face. When he started to struggle with a resolve and vigor that suggested he could stand on his own, Danilo released him.
Diloontier cracked open one eye and shuddered. 'Too late,' he mourned. 'Gone, all of it!'
'That raises some interesting questions. We'll get to them in time,' Arilyn assured him. She lifted her sword to his throat again. 'What do you know about the tren?'
The man's eyes slid furtively to one side. 'Never heard of them.'
She gave her sword an encouraging little twitch. 'Odd, that tunnels riddled with tren markings should converge beneath your shop. Strange that a door from the sewers leads into your drying shed. You can talk to me about this, or you can sit before the Lord's Council.'
'Talking!' he conceded in a high-pitched voice. 'Yes, it is true that sometimes I act as a broker for wealthy men and women who desire the tren's services. I make arrangements, but only through a second or third or twenty-fourth party! Truly! That is the agreed-upon method. It ensures I cannot give you or anyone else the name of my clients.'
Arilyn wondered how the man might respond if pre shy;sented with a name. She sent Danilo a look that mingled inquiry and apology. His lips thinned, but he gave a slight nod of agreement. She turned back to Diloontier.
'All right, then. If you can't name your clients, I'll do it for you. Lady Cassandra Thann.'
'I am a perfumer. Many of the noble folk patronize my shop,' he began evasively. His explanation broke off in a surprised yelp of pain, and he looked down in horror at the stain on the half-elf's gleaming sword and the blood dripping onto his shirtfront.
'Not an important vein,' Arilyn said evenly, 'but I know where those are.'
'I cannot tell you anything! My customers prize con shy;fidentiality!' he protested.
'More than you prize your neck?'
Diloontier didn't need long to balance that particu shy;lar scale. 'Potions of youthfulness,' he said, speaking so quickly that the words almost tripped over each other in their eagerness to emerge. 'The Lady Cassan shy;dra has been buying them for ages, with the coming of each new moon. Forgive me, but how else could she keep the passing years from wresting her beauty from her?'
'I take it that you are not well acquainted with the lady,' Danilo said dryly. 'If anyone could stare down Father Time and win, it is she.'
Arilyn lowered her sword. 'What did you come here to buy?'
'It hardly matters, does it? There is nothing more here of value. Clearly, I did not kill these men. For all I know, you did!'
The half-elf's eyes went hard, but she realized at once that this was no idle threat. She was not the only one who would recognize the marks of an elven sword, and once again, here she stood over the work of an assassin. Fortunately, Diloontier had his own reputation with which to contend. 'Mention our presence here to anyone,' she snapped, 'and the Watch captain will be reading an anonymous letter about your visit to this little shop. Now go!'
Diloontier darted for the exit. His boots beat a fran shy;tic, stumbling rhythm upon the wooden walk. The half-elf sighed and sheathed her sword.
Danilo looked sharply at her. 'You let him go. Do you believe him?'
'About Lady Cassandra? Not a word of it. What does she need with youth potions, if she has elven blood? Although I suspect she would support Diloontier's lie rather than lay claim to her heritage.'
He did not refute her. 'There is nothing more to be seen here.'
Arilyn was silent for a long moment. Actually, she suspected there was much, much more to be gleaned in this city. The tren came from these tunnels. So did poi shy;sons, which had most likely been used to kill Lady Dez shy;lentyr. Arilyn had gone to considerable trouble to find out Diloontier's supplier, visiting acquaintances she had not seen for years and creating markers that she dreaded paying.
However, at the moment there was little more that they could do. This place had yielded not answers, but new and disturbing questions. 'Whatever Diloontier came to buy is long gone,' she agreed. She nudged at one of the corpses with her boot. 'Whoever killed these men has it.'
'Killing to procure poison,' Danilo mused. 'Seems rather an indirect way to go about things, doesn't it? This is not my sphere of expertise, mind you, but it seems to me that the affair would run much smoother all around if the middle merchant were removed from the transaction.'
That was precisely what Arilyn intended to do, but she was not yet ready to voice her intentions. In many ways, Danilo embraced elven ways more wholeheart shy;edly than she herself did. He trusted Elaith Craulnober and the pledge of Elf-friend. She could not bring herself to destroy that until she knew for certain that her sus shy;picions described truth rather than her own bias.
Nor was she quite ready to confront the old patterns and roles into which she was falling with such ease. Every time she turned she was slapped with reminders of her dark reputation. If truth be told, she felt more at home in Waterdeep's underbelly than she did at a noble shy;man's ball. Her human side was coming grimly to the fore, while the elven magic of her moonblade was oddly sporadic. At the rate she was going, Danilo might not have to worry about the inconvenience of life with an elven hero.
Arilyn glanced down at the moonblade, half hoping that it would summon her to duty with faint green light. Of course it did not.
She wondered if it would ever do so again.
* * * * *
When they returned to the city above, Danilo took at once to his bathhouse. After an hour in a hot tub, the memory of the underground city's fetid stench began to fade. Danilo was soaking still when his steward came tapping at the door.
'Your pardon, sir, but you have received a most urgent message from Lord Rhammas.'
News of an invading flight of dragons would not have been more unexpected. Danilo all but leaped from the tub, sending bathwater and soap flying like a flock of small, startled birds. He seized a towel and strode from his dressing room. 'Is someone hurt? Sick? Or is it Judith? Gods! Her babe is due at any time. Her first!'
The halfling wiped a blob of scented foam from his forehead. 'Your sister is fine, sir. She has another moon and more to await the child's birth,' he reminded Dan. 'This message regards a personal matter of highly sen shy;sitive nature. Your father bids you to attend him at The Laughing Mermaid with all haste. I will have your horse brought to the front gate.'
Somewhat reassured but still mightily puzzled, Danilo quickly dressed and then rode the few blocks to the posh tavern.
The Laughing Mermaid was one of the few drinking spots in the staid North Ward. It was equally famed for its sumptuous gaming tables and its small, private rooms. Danilo knew that Lord Rhammas prized the tavern as a place to gossip and gamble with his equally idle peers, but he had never thought of his father having cause to employ one of the meeting rooms. Certainly, Danilo had never expected a summons to such a meeting.
His curiosity was near fever pitch as he dismounted in front of the enormous, ugly marble statue of a cen shy;taur. He tossed his reins to the attentive groom and hurried up the stairs to the front hall.
One of the minotaur guards nodded, recognizing Danilo as a member. The creature beckoned for him to follow, then trotted off, its massive haunches bunching with each stride. Its long, curving horns swept through a low-hanging chandelier, coaxing a hushed tinkle from the crystals that brought to mind a bevy of schoolgirls
