ointment? 'I do not associate with criminals. I'm very sorry you're missing property'-A cheap scent? — 'but I'm going to have to ask you to… leave.' With a sinking sensation, she realized what it was.
Chlorine.
That was the smell. Blurred by some other scent he wore, but that sharp, unpleasant odor was unavoidably chlorine.
Tennora closed her eyes. Pages of books flipped by her mind's eye, illustrated with graceful drawings of dragons: blue, gold, white, black, red, green. Coiled around a tree, in the illustration. Marked by its distinctive crest and horn, the text said, and Breathes poisonous gas.
A green dragon. Dareun was a dragon too.
No. Nestrix is not a dragon, Tennora reminded herself. She had just managed to know somehow that the shop owner would be a dragon…
She opened her eyes. Dareun was watching her with an amused smile.
'Are you contacting her?' he said. 'Tell her what I want. Tell her I'm going to take it and guarantee she never makes another play if she insists on being difficult.'
The shop bells tinkled again. The seamstress held her gaze on the measuring tape at Nestrix's ankle.
'Well met,' she called. 'I'll be with you in a moment.'
'It's quite all right,' a man's voice said. 'Take what time you need.'
Nestrix froze and looked into the mirror. Over the shoulder of her reflection she saw a man with sleek blond hair standing at the counter's table. The assassin from the antiquary's. The lovac.
He saw her watching him, and his eyebrows rose. A slow grin spread across his face. The seamstress finished her measurement, greeted the man, and slipped into the back to collect his garments.
'Well met, Mistress Blue,' he said once the seamstress had gone. 'Come around here often? Or did you notice my breeches the other night? Goodwoman Darvien is quite handy with a bolt of velvet.'
Nestrix didn't move. The past still ached in her chest, and she was in no mood to suffer the little worm's insults. If she ignored him, she might not care.
'Or is it just to celebrate a good murder? Spend your victims' coin?'
'It's my coin,' she said hotly.
He clucked his tongue. 'Not even a protestation of innocence for form's sake?'
'Your men attacked me. What did you expect would happen?'
'I expected you would have known better,' he said. 'You've chosen the wrong people to antagonize. You must be mad to walk into our hands like that.'
She turned at that. 'I am not mad!' she growled.
His copper-capped teeth glinted in the light of the lamps. 'Ah-ah! I find it's true that only the mad make such protestations. The sanity of the sane defends itself.'
'Spoken like a swollen-headed buffoon,' she replied. 'Tell me, what platitudes do you speak to convince yourself that being the lovac of a wyrmling taaldarax is worth your precious time?'
He smirked. 'My master may be young, but he's powerful indeed.'
'I never thought I'd find a white who played xorvintaal,' she said with her own smirk. 'But I suppose it's unavoidably true, given his choice of agent. Did he choose you for your shiny hair?' The man's expression didn't change.
In fact, if possible, the lovac' s expression had grown even smugger.
Something made him think he had the upper hand.
'Tennora,' she whispered.
Still wearing the pinned stormcloak, Nestrix slapped the payment down on the table. The lovac grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close.
'What's your rush?' he said. 'We were just starting to get along.'
In answer, Nestrix balled her other fist and punched him squarely across the jaw.
He fell, and she stepped over him, wrapping the cloak around her as she ran, down Market Street and back to the God Catcher, clutching her knuckles and wishing once more for wings.
Ferremo stood uneasily and watched her bolt from the shop.
'Here we are,' Goodwoman Darvien said, coming back into the front room. 'I've-Good gods above! Goodman Magli, are you bleeding?'
Ferremo touched his rapidly swelling lip. His fingers came away red. 'It appears I am. Never ask a woman her age, I suppose?' He pulled a square of silk from his pocket and held it to his lower lip. 'It seems I'm needed back at the shop. Hold those for me for another hour, would you?'
The bells tinkled as he stepped outside, but the blue dragon was already lost in the crowds. Ferremo muttered a curse. He shouldn't have laid it on so heavily. Now she would interrupt his master, and Ferremo would catch the brunt of it.
'Coins bright, boss?' Ferremo spun around to see Alina leaning against the face of the seamstress's shop. 'Ouch,' she said, seeing his face. 'That's quite a-'
'Enough,' he snapped. 'Things are getting out of hand.' He pulled out a thick gold coin, a favor token, from his pouch. The magic in it would carry them back to the lair his master had chosen to favor-in this case, the antiquary's shop at the edge of the dragonward's power.
'Did he call?'
Ferremo narrowed his eyes. 'No. This is… preemptive.'
'And so is this,' Alina said. She reached into her vest and pulled out a slip of parchment. Ferremo took it from her, reading the lines of sepia ink.
Crimes: Murder of Ardusk Nagaenil.
The bold face of the blue dragon-woman in heavy lines.
Spellscarred. Do not approach alone.
'What is this?' he said.
'A handbill. There was a fellow, it seems, handing them out at the docks and gates. Apparently he's looking for her too.' Alina leaned in close. 'Only he says she's no dragon. Just some plague-addled goodwife.'
'How would he know?' Ferremo said with a sneer.
''Tis a fair question,' Alina said. 'But whatever proofs he's found, her lovac seemed very interested and-dare I say-troubled by them. They went a-walking for almost half an hour.'
Ferremo frowned. That was interesting. But how could the lovac not know something so fundamentally wrong about her mistress? When he had been drawn, many years before, into Andareunarthex's schemes, his master had made a point of showing the young assassin the extent of his powers and what having connections to those powers could mean for Ferremo. Was the woman just stupid, or was there still more the two were hiding? If the bounty hunter had drawn Tennora into his plans, perhaps it was the blue dragon who was doing the hiding.
Ferremo considered the handbill. 'Have you told the master this?'
Alina shook her head. 'Not yet. One way or another, I think he wants her. Doesn't seem to matter much if she's a dragon pretending to be a woman or a woman pretending to be a dragon. Though with the ward, the latter seems more likely.'
Ferremo agreed and rethought his plans. 'She's headed to him now,' he said. With the dragonward sapping his master's strength, even if the blue dragon was only a spellscarred woman, he stood a chance of being hurt. Hells, even with only the lovac fighting back, Andareunarthex might be hurt. Ferremo worried one copper tooth with the tip of his tongue. Infiltrating Waterdeep still seemed like a poor plan, considering the power of the dragonward, even if his master insisted it was a trifling annoyance. If another player struck, they might be finished. He handed Alina the handbill.
'Has he called you?' Alina asked again.
'He will,' Ferremo said, starting toward the address he had given the green dragon earlier that morning. 'Come on.'
'I think there's been a mistake,' Tennora said. 'I'm not who you think I am.'
'No?' Dareun said. 'Because right now I think you're the one who's going to lead me to the player that
