The Dream Spheres

slack-jawed amazement at the very center of the ver shy;dant maelstrom, unscathed by the wild growth of thorn and branch. He saw at once that Arilyn might not be so fortunate. Too many times had she witnessed his 'mis shy;cast' spells, and he feared she would not understand that this night, the danger was real. She stood at alert but did not flee the approaching thorns.

Danilo thought fast. 'Elegard aquilar!' he called, praying that Arilyn could read the truth of the matter in the old Elvish battle cry.

As he'd hoped, the half-elf's sapphire eyes went flat and level, a warrior's ready stare. Her moonblade hissed free of its scabbard as the racing limbs closed in. She lifted the sword in time to bat aside the first leafy assault, then fell into a deft, practiced rhythm.

Some of the thorny limbs dove into the crowd of re shy;treating guests, tearing at their bright clothing and tan shy;gling with flowing hair. Panic set in, and the nobles turned tail and made a frantic, collective dash for the exits. Graceful dancers tripped on their diaphanous skirts and sprawled. Courtly gentlemen leaped over their ladies' prone bodies in their race toward safety. The musicians abandoned their posts-all but for the waggish uilleann piper who struck up the first plaintive notes of 'My Love, She is a Wandering Rose.'

Through it all, Arilyn's elven blade danced and sliced. Severed limbs piled around her, hampering her attempts to wade forward and cut down the source of the spell.

The rosebush, that is, not the spellcaster.

So Danilo fondly hoped.

Still, he couldn't be completely certain. As Arilyn advanced on him, slashing her way through the persist shy;ent growth, the expression in her blue eyes was grim and furious.

Danilo couldn't fault her. He was renowned for his miscast spells, but never had he turned one of his pranks upon Arilyn. He winced as one of the limbs broke through her guard and snagged her skirt. The sapphire velvet gave way with a resounding rip, tearing her gown from thigh to ankle and leaving a thin, welling trail of blood on her exposed leg.

Instinctively Danilo's hand dropped to the place where his sword usually hung, and he started to move toward her before he remembered he was weaponless.

'Hold,' she commanded. She lunged forward, her sword whistling in so high and close that Danilo felt the wind of it on his face.

He fell back a step, then began to turn in a circle, looking for some way to bridge the verdant barrier be shy;tween himself and Arilyn. Suddenly the bush ceased its advance. The halted branches, poised as if for renewed flight, began to shimmer with green light. Severed limbs faded into mist. The bush disappeared-all but for the single, half-blown blue rose lying on the marble floor.

From the corner of his eye, Danilo noted that the guests were edging back into the hall, their faces bright with mingled wariness and curiosity. However, his atten shy;tion was fixed upon the grim, disheveled woman before him, and his usually nimble tongue felt weighted down with stone as he sought for some word of explanation.

'What a remarkable performance. Again, I might add,' observed a cultured, feminine, all-too-familiar voice at his elbow.

Without turning, without seeing the direction of the speaker's ice-blue stare, Danilo knew that his mother's ironic commentary included both his miscast spell and Arilyn's response.

So, apparently, did Arilyn. The half-elf's gaze flicked to Danilo's face in wry acknowledgment, then to the sword still in her hands. She thrust the weapon back into its sheath and turned to her hostess.

'My apologies for the disturbance. Again, I might add,' Arilyn responded dryly. She gestured to her shred shy;ded skirt. 'If you'll excuse me, Lady Thann, I think I'd better change.'

Cassandra Thann eyed the half-elf with genteel dis shy;taste. 'On that,' she said, with a pause that silently shouted, if in nothing else, 'we are in accord. Suzanne will show you to a guest room with an appropriate wardrobe. Choose whatever suits you.'

It was a command thinly cloaked in courtesy. Arilyn acknowledged both with a curt nod, then turned to follow the maidservant who darted forward to do her mis shy;tress's bidding.

Danilo caught Arilyn's arm as she shouldered her way past him. 'We'll talk about this later,' he said, speaking only for her ears.

She met his eyes and lifted one ebony brow. 'On that,' she replied in kind, 'you can bet your-'

At that moment the dance music resumed, drowning out the last words of her response. Danilo, however, was fairly certain he got the gist of it.

He watched her leave, her stride back to its normal length now that the slender column of velvet no longer hampered her. He sighed as he turned to face the family matriarch, the other of the two most formidable women he knew.

Cassandra Thann was, or so most of Waterdeep be shy;lieved, sister to Khelben Arunsun. She was also mother to nine children who had in turn supplied her with a small flock of grandchildren. She had probably passed her sixtieth winter, but despite the lines of displeasure creasing her brow, she appeared no more than a decade older than her youngest son. Her carefully arranged hair was just as thick and fair as his, her figure youth shy;ful and trim. The fine, sharp, sleek lines of her cheeks and jaw had not been blurred by age. Rumor suggested that Cassandra's beauty owned a debt to potions of longevity, but Danilo didn't believe it. More likely, the years simply didn't dare to touch her.

'Remarkable party,' he commented lightly. He clasped his hands behind his back as he eyed the renewed danc shy;ing. 'Resilient crew, wouldn't you say?'

'A good thing they are,' Cassandra retorted, her sharp tone at odds with her blandly smiling countenance. 'That ridiculous stunt of yours was nearly the end of this affair.'

Danilo watched as Myrna Cassalanter, a young woman with bright henna-colored hair and the eyes of a hungry predator, closed in on his old friend Regnet Amcathra. Rumor had it that the Cassalanter clan was anticipat shy;ing a match between their house and the young scion of the wealthy Amcathra clan-a rumor probably started by Myrna herself. Regnet, Dan knew, had other thoughts on the matter. Panic, thinly veiled by gallantry, suffused poor Regnet's face as he led Myrna onto the dance floor. No one, it seemed, was having an easy night.

'An early end to the ball. What a disaster that would be,' Danilo murmured.

'You insisted upon attending this year,' Lady Cas shy;sandra pointed out. Her eyes tracked the path Arilyn had taken out of the hall, then turned their full force on her son. 'I trust that no announcement will be forth shy;coming this year?'

This set Danilo back on his heels. For a moment, he wondered how Cassandra had learned of the plans he and Arilyn had cherished four years past. Upon consid shy;eration, he realized that his mother's comment owed more to tradition than augury. It was not uncommon for betrothals to be announced at the harvest and spring festivals. Even so, her words disturbed him.

'And if it were?' he challenged.

'Ah.' Cassandra smiled faintly, her face reflecting an infuriating mixture of relief and satisfaction. 'I thought as much. The rumors considering your. . liaison. . with this half-elf have been exaggerated '

Danilo was frankly and thoroughly puzzled. 'Arilyn has been my companion for more than six years now, and apart from the debacle at the Gemstone Ball four years ago, you've made no real objection. Why now?'

'Why indeed?' the woman retorted. 'As a hired sword, she was more than competent, and when one hires per shy;sons with such skills, one must endure the occasional inconvenience of unexpected battle. No real harm was done at the Gemstone that year. This year is another matter entirely. Do not think I have not heard the young women sighing over your elven garden. A man does not gift mere hirelings with a fortune in sapphires and blue roses.'

'Arilyn was never a mere hireling.'

Cassandra sighed through clenched teeth. 'Then it is true. Danilo, it is time you considered your position. You are not a lad, to waste your time with trifles and trollops.'

It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to hold back the anger that rose in him like a flame. 'Have a care, Mother,' he said softly. 'There are some things I will not hear, even from you.'

'Better you hear them from me than another. This half-elf is unworthy of your regard, and there ends the matter.'

Danilo studied the dancers for a long moment before he could trust himself to speak. 'No, it most assuredly