nerv shy;ous as a brooding hen.
'Dangerous? How so? The dream spheres have been thoroughly tested. The subjects were willing, even eager, and though none of them were persons of much conse shy;quence, I am pleased to claim that no ill effects were suffered. To the contrary, the dream spheres gave them a few moments' respite from their dreary little lives.'
The man's voice held the well-trained, almost musi shy;cal tones of an accomplished mage, but the genteel sneer in it set Arilyn's teeth on edge. That was undoubtedly Oth Eltorchul, a member of a wizardly family who en shy;gaged in magical training and experimentation. She knew Oth by sight only. He was a tall man with the flame-colored hair common to his clan and ale-colored eyes that brought to mind the fixed stare of a hunting owl. Danilo had studied several years ago with Lord Eltorchul, Oth's father, but he had no use at all for Oth. At the moment, Arilyn was inclined to applaud Dan's judgment.
'Where do these dreams come from?' asked an unfa shy;miliar voice.
A brief silence followed, broken by Oth's scornful laugh. Arilyn thought it was a reasonable question. All dreams came from somewhere.
'They are magical illusions, Lord Gundwynd, noth shy;ing more. A created incident that the dreamer experi shy;ences as if it were real. Entirely harmless.'
'Magic is never entirely harmless,' Khelben pointed out. 'Every wise man, mage or not, knows this to be true.'
There was an angry scraping as a chair was pushed back. 'Do you call me a fool, Lord Arunsun?'
'And insult those assembled here?' the archmage returned, his tone edged with exasperation. 'Why point out that the sky is blue, when they have eyes to see this for themselves?'
'Now see here!'
Arilyn decided that no good opportunity for inter shy;ruption would present itself any time soon. She took two steps before another familiar voice halted her.
'Sit down, Oth,' Lady Cassandra said firmly, 'and listen to the advice you sought. I will speak plainly. No one will sell these dream spheres of yours, for the city's wizards will oppose them. Any attempt to peddle magi shy;cal illusions from a stall in the bazaar is a foolish chal shy;lenge to their power and their right to ply their trade. I will have nothing to do with it, or anyone who does.'
A murmur of agreement followed her words. 'The dream spheres could become vastly popular,' Oth in shy;sisted. 'There is much profit to be made.'
'There is profit to be made in the sale of slaves, poi shy;sons, and certain types of pipeweed. But such things are forbidden by law, Oth, and you know it well.'
'There are no prohibitions against dream spheres,' protested Oth.
'There will be,' announced a voice Arilyn recognized as Boraldan Ilzimmer. She also noted that the man seemed none too pleased by his own observation. 'The wizards' guild holds much power in this city, and their desires will soon be bolstered by force of law.'
'Well said, Lord Ilzimmer. The Watchful Order of Magisters will seek to have these baubles declared illegal. If for some reason they do not, I will see to it myself.'
Maskar Wands's voice might be creaky with age, but Arilyn did not doubt that he would do precisely what he said. The patriarch of the Wands clan was probably the most traditional wizard in the city and was vehemently opposed to frivolous or irresponsible magic.
'There you have it,' agreed a deeper, younger male voice that Arilyn did not recognize. 'You'll find no in shy;vestors here, Oth. Who would pledge good money to an endeavor destined for failure?'
'Failure is not quite the word I would use,' amended Lady Cassandra. 'As Oth pointed out, there probably is money to be made with these toys. A prohibition would put this product into the hands of less scrupulous dealers.' She sniffed. 'Not our kind of people.'
'You surprise me, Lady Thann,' retorted Boraldan Ilzimmer. 'In the past, your words and deeds have matched admirably well. Yet you speak of unscrupulous rogues, even while you entertain the elf lord Elaith Craulnober under this very roof. Consorting with elves, even if they were the honorable sort, is hardly the done thing.'
'That is my son's doing, not mine,' Cassandra said in clipped tones. 'Perhaps I indulge him too much.'
Arilyn blinked, startled by this news. She had not seen Elaith among the revelers but she could hardly blame Lady Thann for her displeasure.
Danilo and Elaith had been foes for as long as she'd known either of them. Matters had changed earlier that summer, when Danilo had repaid the elf's treachery by saving his life. Elaith might be a rogue and a scoundrel, but he was still an elf and he followed certain codes of honor. He had named Danilo an Elf-friend, the highest honor an elf could pay a human. Danilo probably thought including Elaith among his guests was the only natural thing to do. Arilyn could understand why Cassandra would think otherwise.
'I don't trust the elf, and I don't appreciate his inclu shy;sion among the peerage,' Boraldan said flatly. 'If any problems arise-'
'He will be dealt with,' Cassandra said firmly, and with great finality. 'Are we agreed that Lord Oth will not sell these toys?'
'If I do not, then someone else will,' Oth said stub shy;bornly. 'Once a thing is made it cannot long be hidden. Word of these marvels will spread. Someone will find a way to profit from them. Better it be one of us.'
A long, pregnant silence followed his words, one that Arilyn could not interpret. 'There are strictures on trade,' Cassandra Thann said carefully, 'that are not always obvious to those who buy and sell in the shops and stalls. Those who try to circumvent these restraints often come to grief.'
'I am heir to the Eltorchul lordship,' Oth said indig shy;nantly. 'Do you presume to threaten me?'
'Not at all,' the woman said in a wry tone, 'but you asked for an audience and for our advice. It has been given.'
'I understand,' Oth said in a stiff voice.
Arilyn did not, but she was not particularly inter shy;ested in learning more. Nor did she wish to be discov shy;ered eavesdropping. She headed for the stairwell at the end of the hall and hurried down the tightly curving spiral. Sooner or later, she reasoned, she would reach the main floor, and the din emanating from the great hall would make tracking easy.
Several moments passed, and Arilyn judged that she had descended a depth sufficient to bring her well past the main floor, but no doors led out of the stairwell. She continued down. The stairwell tightened, and the flick shy;ering light of the torches thrust into iron wall brackets gave way to darkness. Her eyes adjusted, slipping past the need for light into the elven range, where heat reg shy;istered in complex and subtle patterns.
The stairs ended in a dark and silent hall beneath the Thann estate. To one side, a vast, cool room was honey shy;combed with small shelves filled with dusty bottles. The Thanns were wine merchants, and Danilo had often remarked on their cellars. Arilyn spared this treasure trove no more than a glance. Her attention fixed upon the footprints that led past the door.
They were heat prints, large and faint. Several sets of them, by the looks of it. She dropped to one knee for a better look, and her eyes widened.
The tracks belonged to tren-huge, reptilian crea shy;tures that lived beneath ground, surfacing only to ply their trade. Arilyn had reason to know this. Tren were assassins, and she had crossed swords with them before. In her experience, they did not venture this far above ground without deadly purpose. She knew them well enough to realize that tren bodies warmed or cooled with their surroundings, so their heat prints were faint even when fresh.
These were very fresh, indeed.
Quietly, Arilyn rose to her feet and slid her sword from its sheath. Her own feet, elf-shod and magically protected, left no telltale marks as she began to follow the assassins' trail.
Two
