Mistshore

thought we were supposed to be protected here, shielded from attacks of the Art and-'

'You mean spellplague,' Ruen said. 'Maybe that's so. But who's protecting Waterdeep from those scarred by the plague? No keeping them out. Even those that get dumped in places like Mistshore can cause their share of trouble.' He nodded toward the Ferryman's Waltz. 'Locked together in a lover's waltz. Poetic, don't you think?'

'You mean a wizard did this?' Icelin said. 'To summon this creature… He'd have to be mad.'

Ruen lifted a shoulder. 'Perhaps it's just a story. Whether it's true or not, something draws the sea wraiths out to the wreckage. There's wild magic there. That's why they glow as they do. Ordinarily, you'd never be able to see them in the water. I'd bet any amount of coin the plague still thrives at Ferryman's Waltz, and the wraiths are drawn to it like moths.'

'Sea wraiths,' Icelin said. So the Waltz was the source of the strange apparitions. 'None of this feels real.' Her gaze swept the Waltz and Mistshore: Whalebone Court and the Dusk and Dawn's red tent, the Hearth fire and all of the other structures. They blurred together in the darkness just beyond her sight. She caught Ruen looking at her. 'What?'

He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. 'You're just a child,' he said. 'You don't know Waterdeep at all. What are you doing out here?'

'Conversing with thieves'-Icelin spread her hands- 'fearing for my life and virtue, all of that.'

'Why should you fear for your virtue?'

'Oh, I'm not afraid of you taking it,' she said. 'I don't trust myself. I'm afraid I'll have to offer it up to every lad in Mistshore to get them to help me after your contract runs out. This night was expensive enough. I shudder to think what the price will be day after tomorrow.'

'So you're not afraid of me?' Ruen said.

'You mean because of Garlon?' She squared her shoulders. 'I think he had his fate coming to him.'

'That's bold,' Ruen said. He tilted his hat to see her better. 'Considering how pale you were when you rowed up to my raft, I would have thought you were a terrified mouse.'

Icelin swallowed. 'I've had fresh perspectives on terror tonight. Nothing you can do will frighten me.'

'Truly?' He moved so fast the next breaths were a blur.

His hands encased both of her wrists. He hauled her out of the boat, onto her back on the raft. The hard planks knocked the breath out of her. He forced her hands above her head and half-straddled her.

'What about now?' Ruen said. He'd moved like a demon, yet he wasn't even breathing hard. His crimson eyes were so close they filled her vision. He didn't wait for a reply. He put his head on her chest.

Icelin bit back a whimper, but he made no other move to touch her.

'I hear your heartbeat,' he said, lifting his head. 'It's a wild bird.' He smiled. 'Are you certain you aren't scared?'

He knew she was terrified, and Icelin hated him for that. She could do nothing about the wild hammering in her chest, so instead, Icelin forced her rigid body to relax, one muscle at a time. It was the hardest work she'd ever done. 'You know,' she said, pleased that her voice did not shake, 'if it's my virtue you're after, I should confess Igave it away a long time ago.'

'How unfortunate,' Ruen said. 'Who was the lucky lad? Another thief?'

'A stable boy, actually. We did it behind the chimneystacks on the roof of my great-uncle's shop. He was two years older than me.'

'Was he handsome?'

'Not really, but more so than you. We were outside all night, and I took sick the next morning. These are much lovelier conditions.' She met his gaze, forcing a look of bored expectation. 'Well? Are you going to do this or not?'

'You've got hard nerves, lady,' Ruen said, 'but you don't know this world. If I was any other man you'd be raped and robbed and bobbing in the harbor by now.'

Icelin felt annoyance flare above her fear. 'You're right, I don't know much about the world. In the last five years, I've rarely been out of my great-uncle's shop. I would love nothing more than to be there right now, but my great-uncle is murdered, and that shop is a tomb. Everything I once trusted is gone. I tell you truly, I have no one left to put my faith in, except a criminal. The irony of this could fuel many comic ballads, I'm sure. I may be naive to you, but I have a sharp tongue and more than half a wit and if you can keep me alive long enough, I will find a way to pay you for the services you render me, if it takes all the blood in my body to do it.'

They gazed at each other, their faces inches apart. Something like admiration passed over Ruen's face. He started to speak, but suddenly his face was illuminated by a brilliant, arcane light.

Icelin looked down, and saw the source coming from the space of water between the boat and the raft. A second apparition glowed from the water, but this one shone clearer, and its form melded into a twisted mockery of a human face-

'Watch out!' Ruen shouted. He hauled her up, but it was too late.

The sea wraith burst from the water in a shower of wet and light. The force of its appearance blew the small boats into the air.

Pressure, then fire shot up her right arm, but Icelin didn't dwell on that calamity. She felt her body leave solid ground-she was flying, the world tilting-and then the fetid water closed over her head, blocking out all sensation except cold.

Frantically, Icelin kicked in her bulky skirt, propelling herself to what she hoped was the surface. She came up gulping air. Nothing but cold blackness surrounded her. Ruen's lantern had been extinguished.

Raising her hand above the water, Icelin chanted, praying all the while that the weakness she knew would come would not render her unable to swim.

Light burst from her hand, transforming her arm into a makeshift torch. Nausea hit her hard in the gut. The queasiness in her belly combined with the stench and motion of the harbor proved too much. Icelin turned her head and retched, spitting water and filth. Her throat burned, but she forced herself to ignore it.

By the light of the spell, she saw a crooked gash running from her elbow to the middle of her forearm. There were splinters in the wound.

Ruen was swimming for his raft, which had been flipped upside down. He reached it, hoisted himself up, and pulled a knife from his belt. The thin blade bore a coat of rust. It was a not a weapon at all, but a gutting blade for fish. Icelin watched, incredulous, as Ruen brandished the rusty blade confidently at the sea wraith. The apparition swooped down from the clouds to hover above the water.

He's completely mad, Icelin thought. The knife would not put a scratch on the undead horror.

A glint of silver on Ruen's left middle finger caught Icelin's attention. He'd removed his glove, and she could see a ring glowing with arcane power, illuminating his pale flesh.

The glow spread down his — arm, then flowed across his body like a weird, sped-up river. The light died away, except for where it illuminated the gutting knife. A single strand of silver lit the blade, eclipsing the rust.

Icelin swam to the raft, searching her memory for some spell that might aid Ruen. She hadn't used magic to defend herself in years. The spell in Sull's shop had been a harmless light trick. Gods, could she bring herself to remember how to call fire and ice? If she could, would it affect the wraith at all? She'd never faced anything like it before. Nelzun had purposefully guided her training to suit a woman traveling alone on the streets of Waterdeep.

While her thoughts spun and her arm burned, Ruen moved with preternatural speed across the raft. His knife blade flashed, cutting into the creature where its shoulder might have been.

Icelin saw no wound, but she heard an unearthly screech issue from the wraith.

The apparition twisted away, blasting through Ruen's body in its incorporeal form. For a breath, Ruen appeared to be treading water as the ghostly mass enveloped him. Then it passed, and the thief fell back onto the raft. Icelin was close enough to see his muscles twitching from the brutal exposure to the wraith's body.

She grabbed the raft with both hands and hoisted herself up next to Ruen's prone form. The wraith circled above their heads, as if trying to decide which of the two posed the greatest threat. Icelin swung her glowing arm back and forth, trying to keep the creature's attention away from Ruen.

She could recall no spells, nothing to harm or to kill. She'd buried them all long ago, vowing no living being would be hurt by her hand again.

But the memories were there,' if she wanted to find them. The arcane power, locked away in the topmost tower room of her mind, like a princess in a tale. She needed no spellbook to find them, only the will.