caving in the ceiling on the people inside.
Five people on the topmost floor were killed instandy, including a Watchman who'd been investigating a woman's disappearance. The people below escaped-miraculously, I thought.' She took a shuddering breath. 'Until the spell ended, and I realized Nelzun wasn't with me.'
'What happened to him?' Cerest asked. But Icelin wasn't listening. She recited the tale automatically, numbing her mind to the most painful part of all.
'Nelzun had gone into the boardinghouse to save the rest of the people inside. He got them all out, and then he collapsed outside the building. I tried to get him to take healing, but he said he'd breathed too much of the smoke, that healing wouldn't save him. He spent his last breaths telling me not to blame myself.'
Icelin looked up. The warehouse was utterly silent. Greyas stood somewhere in the shadows, unseen, but probably listening. Nothing seemed to exist outside the dim circle of lantern light: it was only herself, Cerest, Shenan, and Fannie. She glanced at the two women and was horrified to find them both looking at her with pity in their eyes.
Gods above, she'd never thought to be making a confession before two monsters and a terrified prostitute. She'd never imagined such beings pitying her.
'I understand now,' Cerest said. 'You believed I escaped the boardinghouse fire, horribly scarred and out for revenge against the lass who'd maimed me.'
Icelin nodded.
Cerest smiled gently. 'You have nothing to fear from me, Icelin. My scars are from a different fire. Like your teacher, I see great strength in you. I want to help you harness your gifts-* 'Never!' Icelin's shout shattered the stillness. 'I swore I'd never pursue magic again.'
Cerest and Shenan traded glances. Icelin couldn't tell what passed between them.
'She is untried, Cerest,' Shenan said, voicing her thoughts aloud. 'You have led us on a fool's chase.' Her tone was mild, but she tightened her grip on the dagger.
Good, Icelin thought. Let them slay each other and have done with the whole business. For the first time in her life she felt grateful for being inadequate.
'She can learn,' Cerest said. 'She's already had a wizard's training, which is more than Elgreth had.'
'Elgreth,' Icelin said, surprised, 'you knew my grandfather?'
'It's true,' said Cerest. 'Elgreth was my best friend.'
'No. You're lying again,' Icelin said. His words cut her. This couldn't be. Her family would never be connected to a murderer.
'You don't know your family as I do, Icelin. Your grandfather was afflicted with a powerful spellscar. Did Brant ever tell you that?'
Mute, Icelin shook her head.
'He should have. The scar gave Elgreth substantial abilities,' Cerest said, 'abilities that I believe you also possess.'
'That's not possible. You have to be exposed to the spellplague to bear such a scar,' Icelin said. 'I have never been outside Waterdeep's walls.'
'You were too young to remember-'
'I remember everything!' Her body shook with suppressed fury. 'I possess all my memories, whether I want them or not. And you, sir, are not among them.'
Out of the corner of her eye, Icelin glimpsed movement. A slender shape flowed down the sloping floor toward them. Icelin thought it was a snake moving in a crooked line, but as it drew closer, she recognized the metallic smell. The substance pooled in a thick circle at her feet.
Cerest recognized it at the same time. He drew his sword.
'Greyas!' he cried. But there was no answer from the shadows.
Cerest looked down at the blood pool and cursed. Shenan shoved Fannie away and brandished her own blade, moving into position at Cerest's back.
Icelin used the distraction to slide off the back of the crate, putting it between her and the elves. She heard Fannie stumbling for cover, but Cerest was no longer paying her any attention. He was watching the shadows intently.
'Show yourselves!' He shouted.
Tense, Icelin waited, but there came no answer from the shadows.
A breath passed, and a sound like beating wings came out of the darkness. A huge metal cleaver buried itself deep into the crate where Icelin had been sitting. The handle quivered from side to side.
Icelin reached up and snatched the weapon. As soon as her lingers touched the handle, the attack came.
Sull leaped from behind a crate, charging into the circle with a loud roar. The sight of the red-haired giant hurtling across the warehouse was enough to break apart Cerest and Shenan. They dived for cover, and Sull placed himself squarely in front of Icelin. He grabbed the cleaver from her and sliced her bonds.
'Get back!' Sull shouted as he parried a blow from Shenan's blade with his mallet. The dagger left a deep gouge in the wood.
Icelin backed away, seeking cover. Cerest broke to follow when another shadow moved-a large burst of darkness that came from above.
Ruen dropped from a column of stacked crates, landing behind Cerest. He grabbed the elf around the throat, dragging him away from Icelin.
'Greyas!' Cerest shouted, twisting to shove the man off. 'Rondel!' He spun. Icelin saw the instant the elf locked eyes with Ruen.
For a breath, Cerest froze like a frightened deer. Icelin heard him mutter, 'Spellscarred,' before he went for his sword.
Ruen stood before him, unarmed and at ease. His knees slighdy bent, he all but danced on the balls of his feet. Cerest thrust with his blade, and Ruen jumped back. The thrust never came close to his flesh. The elf swung again, and again Ruen dodged, this time finding an opening to punch Cerest in the gut.
The elf stumbled back. His sword wavered; he didn't know whether to attack or defend.
He has no notion of how to fight an unarmed man, Icelin realized. It would be more to his advantage if Ruen had a weapon.
The thief, on the other hand, appeared to be reading Cerest's attacks before he made them. He danced back, sweeping his foot out in a kick that connected solidly with Cerest's knee. The elf had his full weight propped there; he went down with a cry of fury.
This wasn't desperate street fighting. Icelin observed Ruen's measured stance, the balance between rest and motion. He stayed suspended between the two, almost floating, until Cerest's attack came. Only trained, disciplined warriors fought this way, facing whirling steel with an air of serenity and absolute comfort in the strength of their bodies.
Ruen Morleth was not a thief, or at least, not only a thief. He was a monk, a warrior trained in unarmed combat.
A loud pounding sounded outside the warehouse door. Icelin tore her attention away from the battle. Ruen and Sull must have sealed the door from the inside when they'd entered the warehouse. Cerest's men-gods knew how many had come running at the elf's shout-were trying to break down the door. The flimsy wood and rusted iron wouldn't hold for long.
Not this time. She wouldn't be caught again. Icelin took a deep breath and searched her mind, cycling through spell after spell in the vast tower library.
Wind. Force. Her teacher had shown her how the spell could be used if she was ever jumped in Blacklock Alley.
Good enough to seal a door. Spellbooks opened and flew before her mind. She discarded the safe spells, those that would do no harm. She threw them all into a dusty corner and pictured a black book, something fearful and dangerous. Yes. Those were the spells she feared most, but they were the only ones that would aid her friends.
Then it came to her: a black tome with a gold spine. The words were written in faded ink, as if her mind were instinctively trying to protect itself from the deadly power in the words. She forced herself to visualize them clearly.
