"Not just Thann," Dan said slowly. "There is much trade between Waterdeep and Skullport. It stands to reason that someone oversees that trade, someone who has the resources and the power to impose order on what would otherwise be lawless chaos."
"Huzzah!" Myrna applauded him mockingly. "He realized that his clan is not all powerful! Of course it's not just Thann. There are seven families, each with interests that are clearly defined and viciously pro shy;tected. I will not name them, but surely you could come up with at least two of them."
"Eltorchul," Arilyn guessed, seeing Oth's death in this new light.
"Those potion-mixers and tinkers? Hardly!" Myrna cocked her bright head as she considered this. "Nonethe shy;less, I would not rule out the possibility. The current struggle might make room for new faces-provided, of course, that those faces are not surmounted by pointed ears!" she added viciously.
Danilo began to follow her reasoning. "Elaith Craul shy;nober has many concerns in this city, both above and below the streets."
"Huzzah again!" the woman said. "He is getting too ambitious, too powerful. The families have agreed to oust the elf lord."
"Yet you have had dealings with him," Arilyn pointed out.
Myrna smiled coyly. "Who is to say that I might not be behind some of these attempts?"
For a long moment no one answered. Arilyn stooped and picked up the empty vial. "To think I wasted a per shy;fectly good antidote."
The noblewoman's face turned livid. "Mark me, you will not escape this. Do you think that the families are pleased with Dan's relationship with Khelben Arun shy;sun? With the Harpers? With a half-elf?"
She stopped and made a visible effort to calm herself. "I have said too much, and I will no doubt pay for it. But every word of it is truth. If you ask my opinion-and many people in this city do-you're both in deep and wild water, and neither of you will swim to shore."
Seventeen
By unspoken agreement, Danilo and Arilyn sought out the beauty and solitude of his elven garden. They did not speak until they stood at the edge of the serene pool, and for a long time they stared into the water as if it were a scrying bowl that could show them their next course.
Danilo was of no mind for conversation. He still reeled from this revelation, which explained much, if not all, of the mystery surrounding recent events.
"Myrna Cassalanter is a spiteful woman," Arilyn said at last.
"I will not argue with that, but I daresay there is as much truth in her words as spite," he said. "Don't you agree?"
"Not completely. I doubt Elaith is responsible for poi shy;soning Myrna."
Danilo looked at her in surprise. "Really."
"Elves seldom use poison. Elaith's methods, though twisted, are still elven."
"Twisted?" he prompted.
She told him her suspicions that Elaith killed the broker down in Skullport in order to acquire the miss shy;ing dream spheres. "The mark of an elven sword was unmistakable. One of the men had been dissolved into mist. Elaith is competent in magic, and he has a vast collection of magical weapons. It is the sort of thing he would do."
"But Myrna said she received payment in elven coin."
"What of it? That, more than anything, leads me to believe that Elaith is being set up. He isn't that stupid."
"No, he isn't," Danilo agreed, "but that makes him all the more dangerous. He will not take kindly to this treatment. It's possible that some of the recent events are his vengeance against the noble families."
They considered this in silence. A courtesan was dead, and Simon Ilzimmer had been blamed. The death count did not end there: Belinda Gundwynd and her elven love. Oth Eltorchul.
Lilly.
"And this is the elf I am pledged to defend," Danilo said softly. "Once, he asked me to prove his innocence. I have to find the truth of this, no matter where it leads. I owe him that much, for the honor he once did me."
Arilyn nodded and started for the gate. "We might as well get on with it.
Isabeau waited until Arilyn and Danilo were well out of sight, then sailed up to the door of Myrna Cas shy;salanter's mansion as if she were a regular visitor.
She found Myrna pale, but unusually calm. The reason for this, the woman explained, was her new diversion. She showed Isabeau a wooden box filled with small crystal spheres.
Isabeau knew all about them-knew more than this silly woman could begin to suspect-but she listened with quiet contempt as Myrna spoke glowingly of using purchased magic to live a fantasy.
She, Isabeau, was determined to carve out her own.
The dream spheres were not the way. She saw that now. If they had already found their way into the homes of Waterdeep's wealthy and powerful, she had little hope of retrieving enough of them to turn a profit.
There was another way. Risky, certainly, but Isabeau saw in it her only chance.
She selected the largest, brightest globe from the box and took note of the greedy, territorial expression that leaped into Myrna's eye.
"I would like to try one of these wonders," Isabeau said. "Will you choose one for me?"
Myrna all but leaped for the powerful, expensive globe in her visitor's hands. "That one is for my own use. Any of these others you may have."
"We could perhaps share," Isabeau suggested. "You to your dream, and I mine? A pleasant respite to break up the day."
Her hostess nodded avidly. Once her guest was settled with a lesser magical dream, she took the pow shy;erful dream sphere for herself.
Isabeau waited until the woman was deep into the magical trance. She rose quietly to her feet and tipped the box of dream spheres into her pocket. Then she carefully unclasped the necklace from the entranced woman's neck and added it to her loot.
The larger and brighter the sphere, the longer and more powerful the dream. Isabeau had learned that much, but she took no chances. Moving as silently and swiftly as a dervish's ghost, she picked the chamber clean of any valuables and fled while the woman was still deep in her dream.
Isabeau had had no idea that gossipmongering paid so well-with the coins and jewels she had taken from this single theft, she could easily buy and bribe her way into distant Tethyr.
Elated at her success, she all but ran from the man shy;sion and climbed into the waiting carriage. If the driver was surprised to hear that she wished to go directly to the South Gate, he did not state his opinion. An extra gold coin went a long way toward ensuring discretion. If she were careful, and lucky, she might yet make it safely to the southern lands.
Isabeau settled back against the seat and dared to begin dreaming a future far greater than any she might glimpse in one of Oth Eltorchul's magical toys.
Arilyn woke with a start, sitting upright beside her sleeping friend. After a moment her breathing returned to normal, but the dream that had awakened her did not fade.
She glanced at the moonblade, which lay sheathed beside the bed. It was dark and silent. In times past, she had awakened from such a dream to find the sword limned with green light, a sure confirmation that the dream was sent from forest elves in need of her help. This time, the dream was different. It was she who needed the help and her friends from distant Tethyr forest who came to her aid.
There was no trusting the dream, though. Evidence of that was plentiful. Five ghostly elves stood sentinel in the room, released from the sword by the relaxing of her will.
In fact, the moonblade's magic was growing ever more contradictory. Arilyn could almost count upon the elven sword to do the opposite of whatever function it had once performed. Warnings came not at all, or too late. Worse, its quick strike was growing unreliable-sometimes coming too fast, sometimes not at all. If this continued, she would not be able to use the sword in battle.