Mistshore

the shore. If Fannie is involved, you'll want to keep her close by. If I'm attacked or kidnapped, she can help you find me.'

'That's not a comfortin' thought,' Sull said.

'We don't have our choice of comforts tonight,' Icelin pointed out. 'It's either this or we run on our own, and I don't like those odds.'

Sull sighed. 'If you're determined to go, be wary, and signal me with one of those bright color spells if somethin' is amiss. I'll come runnin' across the water if I have to.'

'I know you will.' Icelin touched his cheek. He blushed mightily.

She turned to Fannie. 'Do you know where I can borrow a boat?'

Fannie sniffed. 'I know where you can steal one.'

I suppose I'm officially a thief, Icelin thought as she rowed out into the harbor.

On the shore, she could just make out Sull, dangling a driftwood pole he'd constructed in the water. He kept his head bent, shoulders hunched, trying to ignore the sounds coming from Fannie's tent.

Her latest customer had arrived in a tiny rowboat, which Fannie had offered to Icelin as soon as she'd gotten her man safely out of sight inside the tent.

Icelin prayed she'd be out and back without incident, and the man would never know she'd taken his boat.

The way was slow going. More than once Icelin had to turn the boat around and row in the opposite direction to avoid a shelf of rock or ship debris. Small wonder this section of the harbor had fallen into disuse. Any sound ship entering the area would soon have her hull scraped raw.

She rowed past Whalebone Court and the Dusk and Dawn's red tent. Behind them, she could see the distant glow of the Hearth fire. The sound of raucous laughter and clumsy lute music drifted along the water. At least here, there was some semblance of normal life, even celebration, in Mistshore.

Icelin left the noise behind and rowed out into the dark water. She didn't know how she would come upon Ruen Morleth, or what she would say when she did. Why he would dwell alone in the putrid harbor was a mystery to her, but she didn't have long to ponder it. In the distance, she saw a sagging light, just as Fannie had said she would.

It bobbed faintly-a lantern, she saw as she approached-on the end of a long, bending pole attached to a raft. There were no other boats so far out in the harbor.

When she got close, Icelin heard voices. Two shapes stood out in the weaving lantern light. She could not make out their features, but the profile of the nearer one was short and rotund, his head hairless. The othet held a fishing pole as tall as his body. He was very nearly as slender as the pole. Icelin also noted that the man either had a very misshapen head, or was wearing a floppy hat.

Icelin stopped rowing. She lifted her oars carefully out of the water and listened to the voices.

'I'm a clever man, Ruen. You could do worse.'

The tall man cast his line into the harbor and answered, dryly, 'Oh, I'm aware of it. I could tread the catwalks of Mistshore with a viper around my neck. Come to think of it, the snake might not be so bad, if I walk lightly. No, I don't think I need a partner, Garlon, especially one who sells his own brother to the Watch.'

'How did you know about that?' The other man's voice squeaked like a guilty child's. 'That was family business, got nothing to do with you and me. Come on, Ruen, you know you can't go it alone forever. You already got caught once. Admit it, you need a man to front you. You're too well known in Waterdeep.'

'This isn't Waterdeep. This is Mistshore. We're dancing on the city's bones out here. Leave, Garlon, before I decide you'd make a pretty skeleton.'

'But, I rode out here with you. You have to take me back to shore!' The man whined so loudly Icelin's eats ached.

'Yes, but you see, the fish are biting now. And if I move, I'll lose my spot.'

'There's no one out here but us!'

'Are you sure about that?'

Icelin stiffened. She waited, crouched low in the boat, but no one called her out. Ruen must have been jesting.

'I was trying to do you a favor,' Garlon said. 'Word is you've still got a pretty pot of that treasure you stole from Darzmine Hawlace sitting around. I could move it for you. I know people.'

'Ah, now we come to the true reason you're soiling my raft with your boots,' Ruen said. 'What makes you think I didn't dump the lot?'

Garlon scoffed. 'You enjoy giving presents to whores and dealing with piss pushers like Relvenar, but you're not stupid. You kept some treasure back for yourself. All I want is a little piece.'

'No.'

Garlon spat on Ruen's boots. 'To the Hells with you then.' He strode to the opposite end of the raft. He paused at the edge. Icelin could feel him weighing his dignity against jumping into the fetid water. She felt a pang of sympathy, but it disappeared when she saw Garlon reach for something at his belt. He slid a dagger noiselessly from its sheath. Her heart sped up.

'What say you, Ruen? Last chance. Row us back to shore, and I'll buy you a drink while we discuss our partnership.'

'Turn around,' Icelin said, but no sound came out of her dry mouth. Her eyes bored into Ruen's back, willing him to turn and look at Garlon.

'Do you mind keeping quiet, Garlon?' Ruen said. He twitched his pole in the water. 'You're scaring the fish.'

'Course, Ruen,' Garlon said, his voice dropping. 'Not a squeak.' He snapped his arm back, and forward, so fast Icelin couldn't see exactly when the blade left his hand.

'Watch out!' she screamed.

Ruen pivoted, his slender shadow seeming not to move at all. He dropped his pole and tore the spinning dagger out of the air. Flipping the blade to his other hand, he hurled it back at its owner.

Distracted by her scream, the fat man spun toward Icelin as if he'd been jerked by a string. His eyes widened when the dagger stuck in his chest. For a breath he swayed in time with the lapping water. Then he reached up, clutching his own weapon hilt. Icelin turned her head away from his staring eyes.

Silence, and then Icelin heard an umph followed by a loud splash. She looked back. The spray of water caught the moonlight and fell back into the harbor, which had swallowed up the fat man.

When the noise died, the scene returned quickly to normal. The moonlight settled onto the gently rippling water. From a shocked distance, Icelin saw Ruen pick up his pole and sit at the edge of the raft, his back to her. He cast the line into the water.

Numbly, Icelin picked up her oars. She considered rowing back to shore. Maybe he hadn't heard her shout; or maybe he didn't care that she'd just seen him kill a man, albeit in self-defense. Icelin gripped the oars. She forced herself to move the boat forward.

He came into focus at the opposite end of the raft, sitting cross-legged and dangling the pole near the water. He looked something like Sull in that pose, his shoulders hunched, trying to remain oblivious to the world around him.

Icelin rowed her boat up to kiss the raft, but Ruen never stirred. She wasn't brave enough to step aboard, but she had to get his attention somehow.

Icelin took the dice out of her pouch and tossed them onto the raft. They skittered across the wood, bounced off Ruen's back and came up double bosoms.

'Yours, I believe,' Icelin said.

CHAPTER 7

For a long time, Ruen didn't move. Icelin thought he must not have heard her. But eventually he turned, and his profile caught the lantern light.

He looked to be in his early thirties. His hat, which appeared much older, was as ugly a thing as Kersh had