gooders. And don't worry about money. You can always come work for me.'
Mari smiled wistfully. 'I just might take you up on that offer when this is all over.'
'What of Mari's question?' Morhion asked grimly.
Cormik shot him an annoyed look. 'Don't worry, my good, repressed mage. I hadn't forgotten.' His gaze returned to Mari. 'Because the information is for you, my dear, I'll waive the usual fee.'
'So you know where we can find this Stiletto?' she asked excitedly.
'No, I don't. However,' he added in response to her crestfallen look, 'I think I know someone who might.'
The sun was shining overhead as Mari and Morhion followed Cormik along a precarious stone bridge high above the streets of the Old City. Over the centuries, Iriaebor's myriad towers had been connected by a tangled web work of bridges, stone arches, and midair causeways. Many of the bridges were crumbling and in ill repair, and a few were trod only at great risk, but it was still possible to travel from one end of the Tor to the other without ever descending to the streets below. Some of the larger causeways were broad enough to accommodate merchants' stalls, and vendors hawked food and drink. Everything one needed to survive was available on the heights, and some folk who lived high in the towers never bothered to venture down to the ground.
The three passed through an open turret atop a dilapidated tower and proceeded onto another bridge. It was a spindly arch, its stones cracked and pitted with age. Mari could feel the span shudder beneath her with every step. Nervously, she clutched the stone balustrade to steady herself. A chunk of the railing broke off in her hand. She swallowed hard, casting a look at Cormik.
'Are you certain this bridge is safe?' she asked in a quavering voice.
'Oh, the bridge is sturdy enough,' Cormik replied, 'but I wish someone would clean up after the pigeons.' With a sound of disgust, he hiked up the hem of his rich velvet robe and picked his way delicately around the piles of bird droppings.
To Mari's relief, they soon turned onto an intersecting causeway that was in better repair. After that, they followed a confusing succession of bridges until the city seemed to spin beneath her.
'Do watch where you're going, Mari,' Cormik complained.
Mari blinked. The rotund man had stopped on the bridge, and she had run right into him. She gasped, seeing why he had halted.
The bridge ended in midair. The stones trailed off raggedly, as if half the bridge had collapsed and the other half had remained, hanging unsupported over the city below. In panic, she clutched Cormik's hand and hauled him backward.
'We have to get off!' she shouted urgently. 'The rest of the bridge could collapse at any second.'
To her astonishment, he shook off her hand. 'Calm down, Mari,' he said in a perturbed voice. 'You're rumpling my silk shirt.' He fussed with the soft material, smoothing out wrinkles that would have been imperceptible to less fastidious eyes. 'Now, follow me. And whatever you do, don't look down.'
With that he turned and stepped off the end of the bridge. Mari screamed. She lunged forward, trying to grab him, but he had already vanished from sight. Frantically, she peered over the edge of the bridge. She could see the labyrinthine streets of the Old City far below, but she caught no glimpse of Cormik. His body must have already landed.
'Why, Morhion? Why did he do it?'
'Indeed, why?' Morhion echoed her, but Mari had the distinct impression he was mocking her. 'Cormik was hardly the suicidal type. In fact, I've never met a man as obsessed with staying alive.'
Mari shook her head in disbelief. Yet she had seen Cormik step off the edge of the bridge.
'Oh, stop this nonsense,' a voice said impatiently. 'We haven't got all day.'
A chubby hand shot out of thin air and grabbed Mari's green jacket, yanking her off the end of the bridge. This time she was too surprised to cry out. She braced for the shock of the plunge, but she wasn't falling. In fact, she could feel a hard surface beneath her deerskin boots.
Cormik was glaring at her. She looked down. That was a mistake. Though it felt as if she were standing on solid rock, all she could see beneath her feet was clear air and the twisting streets a hundred feet below. A wave of nausea crashed through her, and she clutched Cormik's arm for support.
'Didn't I tell you not to look down?' he chided her.
'Invisible,' Morhion murmured with interest. 'The bridge doesn't end at all. It merely becomes invisible. And when we stand upon it, we are invisible as well.' He turned to Cormik. 'This was wrought with powerful magic. Who are we going to find at the other end of the bridge?'
'You'll see,' Cormik replied mysteriously.
Cormik was right, Mari realized. It was definitely better if she did not look down. Her feet were content to believe they trod upon hard stone, and she didn't want to give them any other notions. She kept her gaze fixed ahead. Far below was a dark and seamy section of the Old City. They continued to walk.
'We're here,' Cormik announced.
'Er, where's here?' Mari asked hesitantly. 'I don't see anything.'
'Must you always be so negative, my dear?' Cormik asked in exasperation. 'I know it's difficult for you, but just trust me.'
He moved forward and vanished from sight. Mari knew there was little point in protesting. 'Here goes nothing,' she grumbled, stepping forward.
The tower was invisible as well, at least from the outside. Once within, Mari found herself surrounded by comfortable, solid stone walls. The three passed through an arch and into a circular chamber with a domed ceiling. Instantly, Mari was dazzled by a shimmering spectrum of ruby, emerald, sapphire, and diamond-white light.
'Welcome, Cormik,' a husky voice said. 'This is a surprise. And I see you've brought friends. Well, don't just stand there. Come in.'
After several moments, Mari's eyes adjusted to the dazzling illumination. The chamber's walls were encrusted with precious stones, and the gems refracted the light of countless candles. The effect was breathtaking. In the middle of the chamber, on a chaise of crimson velvet, reclined the figure of an incredibly beautiful woman. Her short hair was like a wave of polished onyx, her skin as lustrous as burnished amber, her eyes as bright as violet sapphires.
'Hello, Jewel,' Cormik said, his bow surprisingly graceful for a man of his girth.
'Greetings, my dear, doddering coot,' she replied sharply.
'Ah, my sweet, hideous hag-I see you're still grating on the nerves.'
Mari frowned at this curious exchange. Cormik had called the woman 'Jewel.' The name seemed vaguely familiar, but Mari couldn't remember where she had heard it. Certainly she had never seen the exotic woman before. At first she had thought Jewel to be about her own age, but now she wasn't so certain. There was something strangely old about Jewel's sharp violet eyes and smoky voice.
'Now, let me see,' Jewel mused, turning her attention to Cormik's companions. 'This must be the Harper Mari Al'maren and the mage Morhion Gen'dahar. Cormik has told me much about you. But don't worry yourselves, loves, for I seldom believe anything Cormik tells me.' She smiled warmly, and Mari returned the expression despite herself. She found she liked this mysterious woman.
Jewel bade her guests sit on crushed velvet lounges. Servants clad in black leather jerkins and black silk masks appeared with glasses of ruby-colored wine. Each of them wore a long knife at the hip. Mari drained her glass quickly in an effort to settle her nerves.
'I'm so glad you brought your friends, Cormik,' Jewel said in her throaty voice. 'It is good to finally meet some of those who journeyed with my grandson.'
Mari blinked in confusion. 'I'm sorry,' she sputtered. 'I didn't realize I knew any of your kin.'
Cormik set down his glass with a frown. 'Haven't you been paying attention, Mari? Of course you knew her grandson. This is Jewel Talondim, Ferret's grandmother.'
This was too much for Mari to absorb. 'Ferret's grandmother?' she said incredulously. 'But she's so… young. Ferret was a good ten years older than me, and Jewel can't be a day over-'
'Ninety-three,' Jewel interrupted with a laugh. 'Oh, I know what you're thinking, but I can assure you there's no magic involved. Just good blood. The women of the Talondim clan have always aged gracefully.'
