Khelben smiled reluctantly. “Perhaps you have a point. Even without the moonblade, Arilyn is a formidable force.”
To Danilo’s ears, the wizard’s words lacked conviction. “You don’t think she can win, do you?”
“I’m sorry, Dan. Without the moonblade, she’ll be lucky to live until sunset tomorrow.”
“Then Bran and I had better be on our way.”
Khelben removed a silver band from one of his fingers and handed it to Danilo. “A ring of transportation. On an enspelled griffon she could get to Evereska by late afternoon tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Danilo said, accepting the ring. He removed a large, square-cut emerald from one finger to make room for it. Khelben rolled up the spell scroll and handed it to his nephew, who slipped it into his magic bag. As Danilo did so, a daring plan suggested itself. He stared at the magic sack for a moment, considering. “I suppose I’m ready,” he said at length.
“I don’t see that you have any other choice.”
Khelben and Danilo descended the stairs to the parlor where Bran waited impatiently. “Ready to go?” he asked the young nobleman.
Danilo blinked. “I just had a bad thought. Since Arilyn is flying to Evereska on a griffon, she must land somewhere outside the city and arrange other means of transport.” He turned to the archmage. “Would it be possible for you to contact the Griffon Eyrie? Perhaps she told the keepers there what destination she had in mind.”
“Good thinking, Dan. I’ll be back in a moment.” Khelben Arunsun retraced his steps to the spellcasting chamber to make inquiries through his crystal.
Danilo removed a pair of gloves from his magic sack and listened intently for the sound of a door closing. He moved to the corner of the parlor. Arilyn’s moonblade still lay where she had hurled it. The young man hesitated for just a moment, then he willed himself to accept the pain and picked up the sheathed blade. As he expected, a current of magical energy shot up his arm, and the acrid smell of burned flesh filled the chamber. Danilo quickly dropped the moonblade into his magic sack and slipped the glove over his blackened hand. He sped through the gestures and chant of a spell that would create an illusion. When he was finished, the moonblade, to all appearances, still lay where Arilyn had abandoned it.
He turned to Bran Skorlsun and said quietly, “Arilyn needs the moonblade, and I plan to take it to her. If you speak of this, you are a dead man.”
A faint smile curved the Harper’s lips, and he laid a hand on Danilo’s shoulder. “Young man, I like the way you think.”
Khelben Arunsun wrinkled his nose in disgust when he entered the room again. “Merciful Mystra! It smells terrible in here.”
“Your cook is busily burning lentils, no doubt,” Danilo said. “Did you find out where Arilyn is headed?”
“Yes. The Halfway Inn, just outside of Evereska.”
That was precisely what Danilo had expected to hear. “Good. We’re on our way, then.” The nobleman and the Harper exited Blackstaff Tower with rather indelicate speed. Grinning like two schoolboys savoring a prank, the two men left the courtyard for the darkness of the street.
“Hello, Bran,” said a musical, faintly amused voice.
The Harper pulled up short. Standing in the shadow of a milliner’s shop was Elaith Craulnobur. The elf stepped into the light of the street lamp. “I was beginning to wonder whether the Blackstaff had invited you to take up residence in the tower. I see that his nephew is with you, so I assume Arilyn is nearby?”
Danilo’s eyes narrowed. He reached for his sword, but remembered that he’d given it to Arilyn. The moon elf laughed. “Your scabbard is as empty as your wit. Don’t worry, dear boy. You’ve nothing to fear from me.”
“Is that so? I thought you were going to have me killed.”
“Not a matter for concern.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” the nobleman retorted.
The elf’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Would it comfort you to know that the attempt has already been made?”
“The House of Good Spirits,” Danilo said, suddenly understanding. His eyes narrowed. “So you knew all along who was behind the assassinations.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have had to spend an obscene amount of money on bribes to the Zhentarim. They’re quite willing to betray their own, but the price of friendship is high,” Elaith said. He held up the documents he had shown to Arilyn two days earlier. “Where is Arilyn? I must speak with her about these.”
Danilo calmed himself. “Someone sent copies of those papers to Waterdeep Castle. I thought it might be you.”
“Good gods, no. It was Kymil Nimesin. He’s the one who originally sent the bill to the Zhentarim. Working both sides of the fence, he’s been amassing a tidy sum.” The moon elf shook his head, and a grim expression replaced his usual facade of gentle amusement. “I’d like to know what Kymil plans to do with those funds. He should be quite a wealthy elf by now, and he’s ending the scam by serving up Arilyn as the Harper Assassin.”
Danilo looked up at Bran, his expression worried. “That would be a convenient way for Kymil to explain Arilyn’s death, wouldn’t it? The noble armsmaster slays the half-elf assassin?” Bran merely nodded, never once taking his eyes off Elaith’s face.
“All the more reason for Arilyn to deal with Kymil at once,” the moon elf agreed. He handed the papers to Danilo. “Please give her these.”
The nobleman glanced at the papers. “I don’t understand.”
“It is always wise to have a contingency plan,” Elaith said. “With this letter, Arilyn can turn the Zhentarim against Kymil. An amusing end for the villain, wouldn’t you say?”
“Arilyn would not work with the Black Network!” Bran thundered.
“My dear Raven, do try to be practical for once.” Elaith took the itemized bill from Danilo’s hand. “There are a number of names on this list, people for whom the Zhentarim had no further use.”
“Yes? So?”
“So, just suppose there were more names on this list, including some individuals who are important to the Zhentarim leadership.”
Bran still looked outraged, but a tiny smile of comprehension tugged at Danilo’s lips. “I see. Pad the bill a bit?” asked the young nobleman.
“If you chose the right names, it could raise some hackles,” Elaith agreed mildly. “I’ve already looked into the matter. As usual, there have been several unexplained deaths in the network’s ranks of late. If an explanation were suddenly presented …”
“Very clever,” Danilo admitted, “but I doubt Arilyn would want the Zhentarim doing her work for her. Don’t give the matter another thought. She’d prefer to handle Kymil Nimesin herself.”
“You’re probably right.” Elaith inclined his head.
Bran observed the moon elf with suspicion. “This is hardly the behavior one expects from the famous Serpent.”
Elaith let out a ripple of cynical laughter. “Do not make the mistake of thinking me noble. I am not.”
“What do you want from Arilyn?” Bran demanded.
“Taking your fatherly duties a bit seriously, aren’t you?” the elf mocked. His smile faded abruptly, and his amber eyes suddenly seemed dull and empty. “Don’t concern yourself, Harper. I realize that Amnestria’s noble daughter is beyond my reach. If Arilyn were in truth the devious assassin I once thought her, it would be another matter.”
“Then why do you help her?” Bran asked, puzzled.
“Unlike the etriel, I have no compunction against letting others do my work for me.” Suddenly Elaith’s voice hardened, and his amber eyes met Danilo’s. “Kymil Nimesin has insulted me too many times. I want him dead. Unless I miss my guess, Arilyn is going to kill him. It is that simple. Though she and I may be very different, where Kymil Nimesin is concerned we both want the same thing.”
Danilo held the deadly elf’s gaze for a moment, then he nodded. “Revenge,” he said softly.