Ruen took the ring. He slid it on his finger and covered it with the glove. "These are the people I wanted you to meet," he said. "Icelin you already know-"
"Of course," Arowall said. His gave Sull one disinterested glance before turning his full attention to Icelin. "My pleasure, Icelin." He held out a hand.
Reluctantly, Icelin took it, surprised at how warm his hand was. She'd expected a cold, clammy grip. He held her hand for a breath and released it.
"Well, Icelin, your champion has won in the Cradle," Arowall said. "You've earned the right to ask for what you need. If it is in my power, I will provide it."
Icelin exchanged a glance with Ruen. He nodded.
"I would request protection," she said, "for myself and my two companions. "We are hunted by the Watch and a party of elves and men. You've given us a place to rest, but we need concealment during the day. If you hide us, we will leave at nightfall and not trouble you again."
Arowall inclined his head. "Easily done. I have a place where you could be concealed quite well"-he leaned forward-"if you've the stomach for it."
Icelin met his calculating gaze. "What place do you speak of, sir?"
"He calls it the Isle," Ruen spoke up. "A half-sunk ship behind the Cradle."
"I appropriated it some years ago to take care of a minor inconvenience' to my operation," Arowall explained.
"What sort of inconvenience?" Icelin asked, knowing instinctively she would not like the answer.
"Mistshore is a unique entity in Waterdeep," Arowall said. "We welcome all folk, no matter how desperate or murderous, so long as they've coin to spend. Unfortunately, being such a large enterprise, the Cradle attracts its share of… lesser beings."
"The diseased, the starving, the scarred " Ruen said. "The bdggar folk, shunned even among the damned."
"We used to dispose of them-discreetly," Arowall said. "It was a mercy, I assure you. Their conditions were affronts to nature; whitewasting and darkrot, godscurse and worse. A few here or there were never missed."
"I wonder why you stopped," Icelin said sarcastically. The man's callousness knew no bounds.
"Some days I wonder that myself," Arowall said.
"Don't let him lie to you," Ruen said. "He knew that mass murders would not go unnoticed for long, no matter what sort of folk were dying. He devised a surprisingly merciful solution."
"I took them in," Arowall said. "They live on the Isle now, in relative comfort and, more importantly, out of sight of normal folk."
"No one goes there," Ruen said. "They're afraid of catching something."
"I know I would be," Sull muttered.
"Don't worry," Ruen said. "If he intends to send us there, he will provide us with disguises and spell protection against the sicknesses."
"Absolutely," Arowall said. "I would not send you off unprepared. You will have your disguises, which I daresay will continue to serve you after you've left us."
"Then we are agreed," Icelin said. She stood and extended a hand, but there was. no warmth in her eyes. "We thank you for your hospitality."
He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her fingers. "You are not easily unsettled, my dear," he said. "I admire your nerve."
He looked past her shoulder, his brow furrowing in consternation. "Bellaril, you may go. I have no further need of you."
The dwarf shifted uncomfortably. "There is a matter I must discuss with you, Master. It concerns Ruen Morleth, and a wager we made during the fight."
Her master raised a brow. "I have the distinct impression I'm not going to like this, Bellaril."
"It was my doing," Ruen said. "I made a side bet with Bellaril. If I won the match, she promised to accompany us for three nights-to whatever destination Icelin names-as a bodyguard."
"And you agreed?" Icelin said, looking sharply at the dwarf. "I did," Bellaril said. "No offense meant, lady, but at the time I believed I could win the fight."
"You discovered differendy," Arowall said. He kept his voice even, but Icelin saw his cheeks flood with color. "Your arrogance will be the death of you yet."
The dwarf said nothing, only bowed her head.
"I will honor the wager," Arowall said, rising and coming around the desk. He towered over Bellaril. "Take her, but don't be gone long, little one," he said softly "And don't displease me again."
"Yes, Master," Bellaril said.
Icelin turned to leave, but Arowall held up a hand. "Morleth, a word with you in private, if you please?"
Icelin started to speak, but Ruen shot her a quelling glance. "I'll be along soon," he told her.
"If you say so." Icelin nodded to Arowall and climbed the ladder. She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life passing from the belly of one strange ship to another.
"Well," Ruen said to Arowall when they were alone. "What is she?"
"Your friend is a human girl and nothing more," Arowall said. "I detected no concealment magics, nor modifications to erase her memory. No wizard, in the Watch's employ or any other, has tampered with her."
"Why is she so powerful, then?" Ruen said. "Is it the spellplague?"
"You already know the answer to that," Arowall said, waving an impatient hand. "She is spellscarred, just like you; and like you, her powers are debilitating. But her condition is perhaps more serious."
"In what way?" Ruen demanded.
"I can sense the spellplague as clearly as you smell the rot coming off the harbor. I have met few individuals living with so strong a taint in them. To put the matter bluntly, you and that girl are rotting with spellscars; but while you can live with brittle bones, Icelin is dying." "What?"
"Gods' breath, haven't you touched her yourself?" Arowall took in his expression. "If you did, you'd doubtless find her frigid."
Ruen lowered himself into a chair, in the way a cat sinks into a wary crouch. "Why is she dying? Explain."
"I am only speculating, of course, but I believe that whatever ability Icelin gained as a result of her brush with the spellplague is interfering with her magic. Her spells go wild more often than they succeed. Am I correct?"
"You are," Ruen said.
"Then, in effect, every time she casts a spell, her body wages war on itself-the spellscar fighting the ordered forces of magic. Her scar must be a powerful talent, to cause such a chaotic reaction. What is it, exactly, that Icelin can do?"
"That's for her to say." Ruen stood. Tension hummed in his blood. His body must be readjusting to the ring, he thought. He held up his hand. "Is there any magic like this ring that can calm the forces in her, make the spellscar sleep?"
Arowall smiled. "That's why I like you, Morleth. You think of it as a living thing, just as I do. It surrounds the city, weaving into the wood and stone. Folk think they're safe here, but they breathe the plague every day. They just don't realize it. You and I are the only ones who know how doomed the world is."
"You've spent too long in the harbor rot," Ruen said, "and you're wasting my time. If you can't help me-"
"There is no magic that can stave off the spellplague forever," Arowall snapped. "You know that as well as anyone."
"She's stronger than she looks," Ruen said. He turned away from Arowall. "Stronger than you."
Arowall laughed. "Yet I would not trade places with her for the world. My men will bring your disguises. Bring them and Bellaril with you when you return to the Cradle to fight for me. I'll give you a tenday before I hold another tournament. A tenday, Morleth. You've tried my patience more than any other man and lived. Don't displease me again."
Ruen nodded. A question burned on his tongue, but he did not ask it. He climbed the ladder and left the ship, but the thought haunted him.