Despite his genial manner, he was indeed one of the merchant nobility who had attended the meeting in the Thann villa. Arilyn easily recognized the deep, resonant voice. Now that she faced Simon Ilzimmer, she found the man exceedingly difficult to read. Indeed, she doubted that he was entirely sane. There was an emptiness to his eyes, an utter lack of connection between his words and any discernible emotion. On the other hand, she sensed the seething energy of the man. His gaze seemed to skitter away without actually moving, and he had a sort of brooding intensity about him that reminded her of the portentous quiet before a sea squall. It was as if he were two men, one altogether too controlled, little more than a shell, the other a violent storm, likely to strike without warning.
His study supported this impression. Though the fur shy;niture was sparse and practical, the walls were lined with disturbing pictures-dark, twisted visions from a madman's mind. Danilo walked over to consider a ren shy;dering of two red dragons entangled in fierce mating amid the burning ruins of a village.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "Was this painted from life?"
Arilyn sent him a warning look. Chances were that the Ilzimmer noble was not overburdened with a sense of humor. "We are trying to retrace the goods stolen from the air caravan," she said frankly, for she was tired of the inconsequential talk and growing increasingly uncomfortable in Simon's presence. "Anything you could tell us might be helpful."
The storm behind the man's dark eyes kindled and flashed. "You accuse me in my own home?"
"No one is making accusations," Danilo said mildly. "We are merely trying to gather together the pieces of this puzzle. Since your family also suffered losses, is it not in our best interests to work together?"
Simon eyed him with deranged cunning. "Lady Cas shy;sandra is shrewd. Sending you here nosing about was a brilliant ploy. Everyone knows that you have little to do with the family's business, and all know you are her favorite son. A brilliant way for her to deny involve shy;ment."
"Why should she need to do such a thing? Thann had no part in the theft," Danilo said with as much convic shy;tion as he could muster. "For that matter, the Lady Cas shy;sandra does not know of my presence here."
The mage snorted. He was about to say more, but his eyes widened with mingled surprise and horror. He leaped to his feet, pointing with a shaking finger. "Threaten me, will you? Here in my own place, no less! I won't have it! All of you, leave at once! Get out, out!"
Simon's voice rose on the last words into near hyste shy;ria. "We should do as he says," Danilo said in a low voice. "He is a mage, and I'm in no position to challenge him."
Arilyn needed no urging. She turned to leave the chamber and immediately fell back onto her heels.
She stood nearly face to face with the ghostly image of an elven wizard. He was a tall elf whose silver hair had been woven into scores of tiny braids. He held a shadowy moonblade, point down, and he was leaning on the hilt as a wizard might rest upon his staff. His translucent blue eyes were watchful, and he was gazing at Simon with a quiet intensity that gave substance to the mage's fear.
They quickly left the estate, the shadowy mage walk shy;ing soundlessly behind them. As soon as they were beyond the gate, Arilyn commanded the elfshadow man shy;ifestation to return to the sword. To their relief, the ghostly image dissolved into silvery motes. These swirled out into a neat line and disappeared into the moonblade one by one, like a row of ducklings slipping into a pond.
"This is getting out of hand," Arilyn muttered as they hurried back toward Danilo's home.
"At least the elfshadow is gone. You can still control the sword," he said in the tone of one who was search shy;ing for good news in unlikely places.
"Not really," she said, then shot a quick glance over her shoulder. "I still feel as if we're being followed. The moonblade's magic is getting more and more unstable. How can I go about my business, knowing that one of my ancestors might come calling at any moment?"
"Look on the bright side," Danilo suggested.
"That is?"
"Well, at least we're not being followed by tren."
"Don't be so sure about that," she said grimly as she glanced at the cobblestones at her feet. "Remember, you're a sixth son. I'm your half-elven companion. Can you think of a more expendable target for reprisal?"
For a moment he looked as if he would protest, then his face turned thoughtful. "Belinda was the youngest Gundwynd child."
She turned to him, her face deadly serious. "That had occurred to me, too."
* * * * *
"The woman is a positive marvel," Elaith murmured as he read the note Myrna Cassalanter had sent by trusted messenger and fast horse.
Even the most unlikely of her rumors had borne fruit. Just that day, not more than a few hours before, Simon Ilzimmer had been arrested by the Watch for the murder of a courtesan-in one of Elaith's establish shy;ments, no less. Simon was noble, and the men and women who would give testimony against him were common servants, but the end result would be the same. A minor Ilzimmer lord would hang from the city walls.
It bothered Elaith not at all that Simon Ilzimmer was innocent of this particular crime. His death would be true justice, even if the facts did not tally in every par shy;ticular. Best of all, no one would trace the man's death back to Elaith's door. His servants would give true and earnest testimony to what they had seen-or believed that they had seen. Magical examination would bear that out. Simon's reputation would supply the extra nudge needed to push him over the Hangman's Leap.
The pot was simmering nicely, Elaith concluded as he turned back to the note. Reprisals would be soon in coming, and the noblemen would be busily employed for some time to come.
His brow furrowed as he read on. With great relish, Myrna recounted the death of a tavern wench, a by-blow of Rhammas Thann. Rumor had it that the girl's body had been claimed by Danilo Thann, who insisted that she be laid to rest in the family tomb.
Elaith reached for the bellpull. His elven steward came promptly to the call. "Send a message to Lord Thann," the elf said. "Tell him I require an immediate audience at. ." The elf thought quickly, then added. "The steps of the Pantheon Temple."
The servant bowed and disappeared. Elaith hurried to the temple complex, hoping that the unspoken mes shy;sage would not be misunderstood. Danilo had reason to distrust him, especially if he had pieced together the story of the Mhaorkiira. Bronwyn had no doubt reported back about the magic-rich ruby she had found in Silverymoon and about Elaith's interest in it. It was likely that Arilyn would recognize the kiira from its description and know those who held it could be twisted to evil. Reason indeed for concern-at least, to those whose knowledge of the kiira was limited to legend.
He found a quiet place in the courtyard just below the sweeping marble stair and fell into apparent con shy;templation of a statue of some goddess or other. This reflective pose did not at all mirror his state of mind, but it was common among the elves who came to the temple for a few moments' respite from the frenetic pace of the human city.
Even the dull sensitivities of the humanfolk per shy;ceived some of the tranquil calm of this elven haven. Those who strolled by softened their step and quieted their chatter. Elaith watched as Danilo reined in his horse at a respectful distance, then swung down and paced quietly over to the waiting elf.
"A matter of some urgency, your messenger said," Danilo prompted.
The human did not look well, Elaith noted. It was dif shy;ficult to call him pale, in comparison to a moon elf's complexion, but the signs of several sleepless nights were etched on his face, and there was a deep sadness in his eyes. That, and nothing more. There was no warmth, no humor, none of the growing friendship that had come to mean more to the elf than he cared to admit.