visible out his left sleeve. 'How did you come by that?'
He shrugged. 'Clumsy with the simmer stew,' he said. 'At times it burns me and I don't realize, because…' He trailed off.
'I'm-I'm sorry,' Araezra said. 'I didn't mean to mention it.'
'It's naught.' He adjusted his sleeve over the burn.
Araezra sighed and looked at the ceiling. She wished she could talk to him without putting her boot between her teeth. And his illness… she wondered if he would feel it if she hit him in frustration. Likely not.
She tried a third time. 'Kalen, there's a costume revel at the Temple of Beauty on Greengrass,' she said. 'I was hoping-er, I think a guard presence might-'
'If that is your order, Araezra.'
Trying to hold in a scream, Araezra tapped her painted nails on the darkwood desk. Kalen turned back to his ledger, adjusted his spectacles, and scritch-scratched another note. She marked the ring on the third finger of his left hand-with a sigil of a gauntlet-but he turned another page and obscured her view before she could observe it more closely.
Frustrated, she picked up her locket and the delicate little brush and set back to work on painting the light through the window. Kalen's pen scratched. Araezra's teeth clicked.
Finally, she could take it no longer.
She rolled her eyes, threw the locket down on the table, and raised her hands. 'Gods, Kalen! It's Rayse. How long have we worked together? You can't call me that?'
'If that's an order, Araez-'
'Rayse.' She grasped him by the shoulder and he winced. 'Bane's black eyes, Kalen-after what we've been through? After we…'
She cut herself off. Oh gods, had she almost just said that? Talanna was going to kill her.
But gods-burn-her, she couldn't help it. She-a woman infamous for her calm, unreadable face-just went to pieces around him.
'Araezra.' Eyes calm, Kalen gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile. 'Must we?'
Her heart started beating faster. 'Kalen, we should talk about this,' she whispered.
'And say what?' He looked back at the ledger. 'You were the one who ended it, not I.'
'Only because-' Araezra scowled. 'Kalen, only because you wouldn't… stlaern.'
She expected him to correct her language, but he only shook his head. 'Rayse, I told you about my illness,' he said. 'You know I don't… I can't. You knew that.'
'You wouldn't hurt me.' Araezra put a hand against his cheek. 'I wouldn't let you.'
He gave her a half smile. 'It wasn't because I didn't want-'
The door opened, and his hand darted away from hers. Araezra almost fell from her seat but caught herself and stood, straightening her linen chemise and cursing herself for taking off her armor. The silvered breastplate lay on a nearby chair, next to her helm, the five tiny gauntlets denoting her valabrar rank staring at her like five sly, winking eyes.
She composed herself in a flash, exercising her iron self-discipline to the fullest.
Into the room came Talanna Taenfeather, still sporting the wild rack of horns woven out of her vivid hair. On her breastplate, she wore three gauntlets, identifying a shieldlar.
Talanna would have been fine company, but behind her strode an older man-thirty or so winters, brown hair, bright eyes, bemused smile-whom Araezra recognized only too well. Bors Jarthay's badge depicted a single gauntlet clutching a drawn sword-the sigil of a commander.
Talanna froze and looked first to Araezra, then to Kalen. Her smile curled in the way it did when she was about to say something particularly cutting. 'Ooh,' she crooned. 'We're not interrupting aught, are we, Rayse?'
Araezra opened her mouth, but Kalen grunted no without looking up from his work.
'And what a shame that is,' Bors added. He nodded to Araezra's breastplate and helm. 'Taking our ease, lass?'
'My steel is always near to hand.' Araezra smiled tightly. 'Do I need to don it?'
'Your breastplate against me, Rayse? Nay!' Bors grinned. 'I would hardly want to discomfort two of my best lady Watchmen.' He nodded to Kalen. 'Good day, Vigilant Dren.'
Kalen looked up. He started to rise, stiffly, as though to salute, but Bors waved him down. The commander grinned at Araezra, but she refused to look at him.
'Need you aught, sir?' she started to ask, but Talanna rushed to Kalen's side.
'See this, Kalen?' On the forefinger of her left hand she wore a ring of interlocking golden feathers. 'A gift of Lord Neverember.' She smiled wryly. 'The Open Lord's passionately in love with me, you know.'
'Oh, don't be a dolt,' Araezra said. 'He knows your inclinations.' Talanna whirled, heat in her cheeks. 'But a little banter hurts no one, aye?'
Araezra winced. Jealousy had prompted her tongue, she knew-she longed secretly to marry someone with power like that of Neverember, but greater. She wanted to wed one of the Masked Lords; the greatest, if possible. And then, with her husband's power, she could make right all the ills of the city. Rewrite laws to trap the guilty. Put together a secret wing of the Guard, who would reshape Waterdeep into a cleaner, safer, ordered place. Expunge the traitors, slavers, and other evils of which she knew very well. Little things.
She realized she'd lost herself in thought for a breath, and Talanna and Bors were staring at her. Kalen had gone back to work.
'Aye,' said Araezra, 'what prompted the gift of this ring, Talanna?' The use of her full name-rather than her pet name, Tal-was meant as a warning.
The red-haired woman grinned. 'Well, I'm told the spell within is a safeguard if I fall from a great height-some call it 'feather light,' or 'feather float,' or something of the sort-that of course being a jest about-'
'— your last name, aye,' said Bors. 'But what occasion? Have I missed my sweetling's nameday?' He ruffled Talanna's hair, making the wires in the spikes click. 'These are so glim.'
'Damn them, then!' Talanna ducked out of his reach and began ripping the wires out. Araezra tried not to wince; Talanna was always so rough with her appearance.
'There,' Talanna said when her wavy red tresses fell freely around her face. 'As I said, 'tis a gift from Lord Neverember after my accident tenday before last.'
Bors and Araezra winced.
Kalen, who looked up when the talking ceased, blinked at Talanna. 'What happened?'
'She was chasing a thief from Angette's in Dock Ward,' Bors said, 'when she fell-'
'Jumped!' Talanna corrected. She indicated the ring on her right hand that gave her the power to jump great distances.
'— jumped fiom a building and broke her ankle,' Bors said. 'The Torm priests healed her, but not before the story got out. It was the talk of the city-our favorite little flame-haired Warch-lass, having taken a frightful spill.'
Kalen nodded slowly. He looked to Talanna. 'You caught the thief?'
'Faith!' she cried. 'Why do you think I jumped:'The fall broke more in him than in me.'
Kalen nodded casually. 'What of the thief at Kolatch's from yesterday?'
'Never caught that one,' Talanna admitted. 'Damned guttersnipe outdistanced me.'
Araezra tapped her fingers on the desk, unhappy at being ignored.
'Getting slow in your old age?' asked Bors, gesturing at Talanna.
'Getting soggy in yours?' asked Talanna, gesturing at his midsection.
Araezra let loose a cough, more exasperation than throat clearing.
'Ah, yes,' Bors said. 'What brings us to your fine abode this eve? First, I need to borrow Kalen for a late evenfeast and thereafter. In his place, you will take Talanna to visit the walls.'
'What?' Araezra asked. 'But Kalen's my assistant.'
'Second,' Bors said without pause, 'it has come to my attention that you need some aid in asking Vigilant Dren a certain question, Valabrar Hondyl.'
Araezra's iron will broke. 'What?' She looked wide-eyed at Talanna, who giggled. This was some jest of hers, Araezra realized.
Bors turned his eyes to the ceiling and swept his hands wide. 'Can it be that the fair Araezra might be
