to a Watchman friend of hers that the elf had a personal grudge against her. I have men questioning Cerest's contacts in the city, but there's little information to be had about him. We've determined he was not born in Waterdeep, but he came to the city at a young age. His conduct in business is without fault, but the details of his private life are sketchy. He was the second or third son of a noble house, but he was not raised in a state of wealth or privilege. Nevertheless, he would have been significantly above Icelin in station. The only event which might link them happened five years ago, at a boardinghouse in Dock Ward.'
'It wasn't the fire,' Ruen said, before she could relate the story he'd overheard in the warehouse. 'The elf wasn't scarred by Icelin's hand; he admitted as much. He wants her for another purpose.'
Stunned silence met this pronouncement. 'Has Cerest encountered the girl? You gave your word she was safe!'
'She is,' Ruen said. 'I can keep her away from Cerest, but I need to know how many men are after us.'
'Ruen, by the gods, bring her in and the Watch will see to her safety. This is beyond your skill or caring. Why do you delay?'
'Perhaps you've turned me into a loyal Watch dog-officer- after all,' Ruen said blithely. 'She's safer with me, and she pays better. I'll be in touch when you have more information for me to work with.'
He clenched the pawn in a fist until the magical connection died.
'What do you think?'
Daerovus Tallmantle pushed out of his chair and leaned over the desk. 'I think you owe me new furniture.'
Tesleena looked down at the desk. Her fingernails had left deep furrows in the wood. She waved a hand impatiently, and the marks smoothed out and disappeared.
'I'd wager Icelin Team wishes she had your control in magic, if not in temper,' the Warden commented.
Tesleena nodded, but she didn't seem to be listening. 'We'll track her from the warehouse. Her unstable Art will make her easy to find.' The sorceress winced. 'For Cerest, as well.'
'All the more reason to step up our efforts.' Daerovus took a sheet of parchment from his desk drawer and handed it to Tesleena. 'Take this down, if you would. It's an order for a second, smaller patrol to join the first in Mistshore. These men will not be wearing Watch tabards.'
'How will Ruen know them?' Tesleena asked.
'You heard him. Ruen has no intention of cooperating willingly with our search,' the Warden said. 'Since his release from the dungeons, he's been sullen but resigned to his role as an agent. Something changed last night. He's regained some of his old arrogance. He hasn't shown such spirit since the night we captured him.' The Warden looked thoughtful. 'Icelin Team has lit a fire in him. Time will tell if that will work to our advantage.'
Tesleena sniffed. 'I don't see how it could possibly be to the good. He was going to be our eyes in Mistshore. We should have known his defiance would win out over sense.'
'He still might be of use,' Daerovus said.
The outcome of Icelin Team's ordeal would be revealing in more ways than one, if everyone involved survived.
Ruen slid the saw pawn away in his shirt and checked to be sure Icelin was still asleep. After sleeping through the butcher's heavy snores, he was certain it would take a cannon blast to wake her.
He looked up at the hatch. The square of sunlight had disappeared. A sliver of moonlight spilled down the ladder in its place. He could hear bodies stirring above decks. They would be coming to ready him for the Cradle in another bell.
Automatically, he felt for his ring. He'd known the guards would confiscate it, but he still felt naked. Whatever else came of the fight, his body was going to hurt like unholy fire after it was over. He just hoped the old man wouldn't let him die.
The dream took her again.
She stood in the center of the ruined tower, looking straight up at the sun burning through a gap in the ceiling. Her skin tingled. The hair stood up on her arms. She didn't like this place. The shadows moved when she wasn't looking. Frightened whispers-the footsteps of folk who'd walked and died here a century ago-made it impossible to hear her own thoughts. She turned in a circle, searching for the gap in the wall, but something impeded her.
I am a child, Icelin thought. Her limbs would not move properly. She stumbled and fell, scraping her knees on rock.
She started to cry. Her knees hurt. The sun burned her neck. It was so hot in the tower. Why didn't someone come to pick her up, to take her away from this place?
'Icelin,' said a feminine voice. She didn't recognize it, but it spoke with enough urgency to make her turn. Icelin tried again to stand and was suddenly knocked from her feet.
'Get her out!'
The shadows were shouting at her. It was too hot. Icelin looked up, and her body burst into flames.
CHAPTER 11
Icelin awoke shivering, but her body poured sweat. Her bodice was saturated. She buried her head in her hands and waited for the dream fear to subside.
In the panic and grief of the night before, she'd almost forgotten the nightmare. After the boardinghouse fire, she'd been terrified of seeing the faces of the dead in her nightmares. But she only ever dreamt of the tower. It was a perversion of the tower Nelzun had created for her. She thought she'd left it behind when she'd left her great- uncle's shop, but the tower had followed her, to the warehouse and now here.
Drawing a slow breath, Icelin forced away the frightening images. Her heartbeat resumed its normal pace, and she drifted for a time, meditating, summoning the energy she would need to call her magic for another day. The words of the spells were there; she had no need to memorize them, but the power required concentration.
When she was finished, she opened her eyes and looked around, blinking in the darkness. Slowly, she recognized her surroundings. The ship's hold-their sanctuary for the day.
She longed to cover her head and sleep for days on end. The cold combined with the raw emptiness in her stomach forced her to a sitting position. Her hair, stiff from multiple dunkings in salt water, stood out in snarls all over her head. And the smell…
Icelin groaned. The smell was coming off her body. Seeing she was awake, Sull ambled over to sit next to her. The butcher looked and smelled as unkempt as she.
'How do you feel?' he asked tentatively. His face was pale under his red hair.
'Food,' Icelin said. She tried to run a hand through her hair and ended up getting her fingers stuck. Cursing a streak that would have made Brant blush, she yanked her hand free. 'Food,' she repeated, and smiled for Sull's benefit. 'Succulent lamb's stew, to start, with fresh vegetables smothered in butter. Sharp cheese melted on bread slices. For the main course'-she scrunched up her face, pretending to give the matter grave consideration-'nothing whatsoever that includes fish.' She waved a hand imperiously. 'That's my order. Off with you.'
Sull's deep chuckle filled the hold. 'Ah, thank you, girl. I was worried you'd lost your good humor forever.' He shot her a look of chagrin. 'As to the food: the waterskins are fine, but the rations are soaked. I don't think they're fit to eat. But I found this next to me when I woke up.'
He handed her a loaf of crusty bread. Icelin tore off a hunk and bit into it, expecting the worst. Surprisingly, the bread was flavorful and chewy inside. She took several more bites and a swig from her waterskin and immediately started to feel better.
'Where's Ruen?' she asked, noticing for the first time that the thief-monk, she reminded herself-was not in the hold.
'Don't know,' Sull said, but I heard a lot of activity going on up there. Must be near fightin' time.'
Icelin listened to the footsteps clattering above them. Sull was right. The voices were building into a dull roar. She wondered how many people would be present for the fight. Her earlier apprehension returned in full.
Ruen meant to win them protection by fighting in the Cradle. But for how long could they realistically hope to stay safe? Icelin had never met Ruen's contact, but already she didn't trust the man. If Cerest offered him coin
