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To the impatient young noble, Khelben’s whispered consultation with the messenger seemed to take an eternity. Finally the Blackstaff returned with an official-looking parchment in his hand. His face was deeply troubled.

Khelben was not given to preambles. “This is from the Lords of Waterdeep. Arilyn Moonblade has been identified as the Harper Assassin, a rogue adventurer in the employ of the Zhentarim.”

“What?” exploded Bran. “By whom? I was the one assigned to make that judgment.”

Khelben held up a hand for silence and continued. “Piergeiron says that the evidence is overwhelming. An anonymous source sent papers to Waterdeep Castle, precisely balancing each assassination with documentation on Arilyn’s whereabouts. There was also a letter billing the Zhentarim for an assassin’s services. The dates coincide with each Harper Assassination.”

Danilo’s eyes turned cold. “Elaith Craulnobur sold her out. He’ll die for that.”

Khelben looked worried. “She was working with the rogue elf, wasn’t she? By Mystra, that won’t look good when she comes to trial.”

“A trial.” Danilo slumped into a chair. “It will come to that? Can’t you do anything?”

“I can speak in her behalf.”

“There’s no truth in this accusation,” Danilo protested. He winced and amended, “At least, not much truth.”

“One thing I learned long ago,” Bran responded, “is that truth often has little power to sway opinion. It seems that the Harpers have never completely trusted Arilyn. Any hint of involvement with the Zhentarim will color opinion further. You must admit that with her background as an assassin, she is a credible suspect.”

Even Danilo had to concede the logic in that. “Surely, when the full story is known …”

“The full story can never be told,” Khelben stated in an uncompromising tone. “Evermeet would be endangered if news of the elfgate became widespread. The secret must be protected.”

Filled with fury, Danilo flew to his feet and faced down the archmage. “Even at the cost of Arilyn’s life?”

“Even so.”

Their eyes locked like horns, Danilo’s blazing with condemnation, Khelben’s fixed on his commitment to duty. The younger man broke away first.

“I’m going after Arilyn,” he said abruptly.

“Be reasonable, Dan,” growled Khelben. “How will you find her? Did she tell you where the elfgate is?”

“In Evereska, that’s all I know.” Danilo’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Don’t you know?”

“Evereska’s a big city,” Khelben snapped. “And I wasn’t the one who moved the gate.”

Danilo shook his head in disgust. “All right, who does know? Or can you relinquish your vows of secrecy long enough to part with that information?”

“Watch your tongue. Laeral devised the spell that moved the elfgate. The only others who know its exact location are Queen Amlauril and the elven lord of the Greycloak Hills, Erlan Duirsar. Perhaps the elven council of Evereska knows by now, too. By Mystra, this mess will set back ties with the elves a century or two,” the Blackstaff concluded in a mutter.

“You deal with the politics, Uncle. If you can’t help me, I’m going to Evereska alone.”

“I’m going with you.” Bran Skorlsun’s quiet voice was as inflexible as tempered steel.

“You’re as bad as your daughter,” Khelben said. “What makes you think the elves will let you near Evereska, Bran? Elves have long memories, and they’re not overly fond of humans who ruin their princesses.”

Bran met the archmage’s glare. “Who else could track Arilyn to the site of the elfgate?”

“It’s out of the question!”

Danilo laughed without mirth. “Oh, come now, Uncle. Aren’t you just a little curious to know where this elfgate is? Now that the cat’s in the creamery, so to speak, I imagine you’ll have to move the thing sooner or later.” Khelben’s eyes widened.

“Another thing,” added Bran. “If we wish to help Arilyn, we must bring in Kymil Nimesin. In her current frame of mind, I fear that she will kill the elf.”

“Let her,” Danilo retorted. “Forgive me, but I cannot shed many tears over the fate of Kymil Nimesin.”

“As much as it pains me to do so,” Khelben put in, “I must agree with Bran. Arilyn is a former assassin. Kymil Nimesin is a highly respected armsmaster. Kymil must be brought in and magically questioned. Without such evidence at the trial, without Kymil’s actual presence, Arilyn looks very much like the Harper Assassin. She would stand a much slimmer chance of acquittal if she kills Kymil.”

“So you agree that we should go, Uncle Khelben?”

“Given our options, yes.” The wizard turned to Bran. “If you will excuse us, I need to have a few words with my nephew before you leave. Come up, Dan.”

Khelben and Danilo climbed the tower’s staircase to the magical supplies room. Once the wizard had shut and warded the door, he got right down to business. “You were right. The elfgate must be moved again,” Khelben said bluntly.

“Oh, marvelous. With Laeral off cavorting with the elves of Evermeet, who’s going to accomplish this miracle?”

Khelben fixed a steady gaze on his nephew. Danilo shook his head and whispered, “Surely you’re not serious.”

“I am very serious.”

The wizard stalked to his scroll library, a large shelf that covered the length of one wall and kept the vast collection in order. Its tiny, round compartments held hundreds of magic scrolls, making the shelf looked like an oversized honeycomb or at the very least an impressive wine rack.

Pressed for time, Khelben muttered a spell. Instantly one of the compartments glowed with green light. Khelben drew the scroll from the glowing niche, blew the dust from it, and removed the magic wards that sealed it.

“Here is the spell, Dan.” Khelben spread the scroll out on a table and fixed the young man with a steady stare. “I’ve pledged not to cast the spell, so you’ll have to.” Danilo paled. “You can do it. I’ve been working with you since your twelfth winter, after that last tutor quit in despair. You have the ability. Do you think I would endanger your life by insisting you cast a spell you could not control?”

“You’re willing enough to sacrifice Arilyn’s,” Danilo said.

“Tread carefully, young man,” the archmage warned. “Few things in life are as simple as you would make them. When you have carried the burdens and responsibilities I have known, then you can sit in judgment upon me. Will you cast the spell or not?”

Danilo nodded and bent over the scroll. One glance at the arcane symbols that formed the powerful spell, and Danilo knew that the task lay on the untried edges of his magical ability. Few mages would attempt such a spell. That Khelben would expect this of him was a measure of the wizard’s trust. Or perhaps his desperation.

As the young mage struggled to read the spell, pain shot through his head like shafts of lightning, making the arcane symbols cavort on the parchment. With fierce concentration, Danilo forced himself to focus on the spell, and after a time the symbols slowed their dance. As they arranged themselves into patterns, their meanings started to become clear. Danilo began to memorize the complex gestures and the strange words that formed the incantation.

After a moment he closed his eyes. He saw the runes emblazoned in gold upon a field of black. Once he had truly learned a magic spell, he could see the symbols in his mind.

Danilo opened his eyes and nodded. “I’ve got it.”

“Already? You’re sure?”

The nobleman grinned at his uncle. “The spell, I’m afraid, is going to be the easy part.”

“Don’t be cocky, boy.”

“It’s true! Compared to keeping Arilyn from chopping Kymil Nimesin into carrion?”