sword, dagger or knife among these will hold a spell. No one can trace them, enspell them, or turn them against you. Of course, you'll have to sharpen them-they won't magically hold an
Tzigone studied the fine weapons. Why was Basel dangling them before her like this? She didn't have the coins to buy one, and she doubted that he intended for her to demonstrate her thieving skills. If he meant to have her killed or marked-and if her understanding of Halruaan law was correct, he had the right to do either-why have her choose the weapon? He had never struck her as a sadistic man.
'Do any of these please you?' Basel repeated patiently.
Tzigone cleared her throat. 'I've never seen better.'
'They are quite fine. They're also overpriced, but what can I say? I am bound by my wizard-word oath to act promptly. Choose one.'
She sent him an inquiring look. To her vast relief, Basel's disturbingly calm expression gave way to a wide grin.
'You knocked Lord Procopio on his scrawny excuse for an arse. I swore that you would be dealt with appropriately. I'd say an extravagant gift is in order.' He turned to his apprentices. 'Mason? Farrah?'
'Highly appropriate,' Mason agreed with a relieved smile. Farrah Noor laughed delightedly and clapped her jeweled hands.
'There is more to this than you know,' Basel said, suddenly serious. 'Spells of divination are as common in Halruaa as rain during the monsoon, but there are rules and limits. Lord Procopio skirts them. A hungry urchin risks losing a hand when he cuts a rich man's purse strings, yet the most powerful of wizards can raid another man's mind with impunity. Procopio has intruded upon one of my apprentices before,' Basel said, glancing at Farrah Noor, 'and I suspected that he could not resist the challenge you present. He was due for a gentle reminder that not everyone will tolerate his arrogance.'
The wizard's mood darkened still more. 'Forgive me, child, for subjecting you to such indignity. I never suspected that Procopio would go so far. I should have, knowing him as I do.'
Tzigone heaved a sigh of profound relief and enfolded Basel in a quick hug. She reached for a length of gleaming silver-a long slim knife, perfectly balanced for fighting or throwing. 'I knew I should have followed that punch with a knee to the groin.'
'I'm just as glad you didn't,' Basel told her, his black eyes twinkling with unholy glee as he counted out the needed coins. 'Had you done so, I would have felt compelled to sign
Chapter Five
Matteo's pursuit of Andris took much longer than he had anticipated. His eager stallion ran hard the first day, and Matteo suspected that Cyric would have run through the night had not Matteo called a halt. On the second day, heavy rains slowed his progress and blurred the trail. Matteo was a strong tracker, but had he not known Andris so well, he would have missed the trail entirely. It was not the trail sign, but the small tricks and diversions that the jordain left to cover his path that Matteo found and read.
By the third day, he could no longer doubt Andris's destination. The jordain was bound for the Temple of Azuth, as he had been instructed. That made no sense to Matteo. If Andris intended to submit himself to the inquisitors, why slip away without a word?
The sun's last long, golden rays gilded the high-domed Azuthan cathedral as Cyric thundered up to the temple gate. Matteo gave his name and purpose to the gatekeeper and waited while the man went to fetch a priest.
An elderly man came to the gate, wearing the gray vestments of Azuth. Matteo's eye dropped to the holy symbol over his heart: a man's hand, index finger pointed upward, surrounded by flame. The flames that surrounded the needlework hand were not fashioned from silken threads but from magic flumes that leaped and danced, giving off a deep red light. The flame's color denoted rank. Matteo's host was a high priest. Given Matteo's part in returning the traitorous Kiva, he supposed it fitting that so august a person should come to greet him.
The priest made short work of the usual courtesies, not even offering his name. He ushered Matteo into a private study and closed the door firmly. Matteo waited with growing puzzlement as the priest fell into prayer, chanting Azuth-given spells to ward the room from magical intrusion.
At last Matteo could not contain his curiosity. 'You fear that some wizard might intrude into this sacred place? That is forbidden!'
'Forbidden or not, it has been known to happen.' The priest sank into a chair and waved Matteo toward another, 'The man you seek, the jordain Andris. He did not present himself to the temple.'
'He assured me he would come here.'
'You mentioned that to the gatekeeper. You also said that Andris promised he would not leave the Jordaini College until the following morning,' the priest pointed out.
Matteo had no answer for this. 'I must admit that my friend's actions are a complete mystery to me. I would be grateful for whatever enlightenment you could offer.'
The priest hesitated for a long moment. 'You must treat what I am about to tell you with the same discretion a jordain grants his patron.'
Matteo nodded cautious agreement 'Insofar as I may, without betraying the interests of my patron the queen, or the service of truth.'
'That will have to do.' The priest sighed heavily. 'Andris did not present himself at our gates, that much is true, but he was here. It is my opinion that he was looking for Kiva.'
This was the strangest news Matteo had learned yet 'Did he find her?'
'When you learn the answer to that question, let me know. Me, and no other.'
As the man's meaning became clear, Matteo slumped back into his chair. 'Kiva has escaped? But how?'
The priest shifted. 'I could fashion an explanation, but why waste breath on something that will not change the situation?'
Matteo silently accessed 'the situation.' Kiva was gone, and with her the secret of the gate to the Plane of Water. A smaller concern, but no less urgent to Matteo, was what part Andris might have played in this. Andris believed his destiny was bound to the elven people, and Kiva was the only elf he knew. It seemed incredible that Andris would have anything more to do with the treacherous elf woman, but Matteo could not be certain.
After a long moment, he put words to his fears. 'Do you suspect that Andris might have aided Kiva's escape?'
The priest shook his head. 'Kiva was long gone before the jordain came. After she regained her senses, she was examined immediately, if briefly, by one of our inquisitors. She named an accomplice, who was duly executed.'
'Zephyr,' Matteo murmured, bringing to mind the kind, worn face of the elderly elf-the only jordain who had made him welcome during his service to Procopio Septus. 'What evidence was brought against him?'
'The sentence was just,' the priest assured him. 'Kiva told the truth about him, if little else. The inquisitor deemed her too weak to continue, yet she fled within the hour. I wouldn't have believed it possible, but there you have it'
This pronouncement mingled good news and bad. Andris was not culpable, but on the other hand, Kiva had been running free for quite some time. Zephyr had been executed by the light of a gibbous moon, as was Halruaan custom. Since then moondark had come and gone, and a plump crescent overlooked the temple like a lazy, heavy- lidded eye.
Matteo swallowed his frustration. 'What efforts have been made to recover her?'
'Officially, none,' the priest told him. 'You see, Kiva has disappeared into the forested pass that leads through the mountains into the Mhair Jungle. By treaty with the Mhair elves, Azuth's priests cannot enter that pass. Wizards, swordsmen and commoners among Azuth's followers are not bound by this prohibition, but none have found the elf's trail.'
