Danilo turned to the window. Dawn was near, but dark clouds blinded the setting moon. "Elaith went after Isabeau once, and it is conceivable that he might do so again, but I do not want to believe that Elaith killed Lilly."
"It is a possibility."
"I know," Dan admitted with a sigh. He rubbed both hands briskly over his face, as if to clear his vision. "Damnation. I've grown rather fond of the rogue, and I truly believed he would honor his pledge. Of late, though, I have discovered reason to doubt my judgment of those around me. I do not know what to make of Lilly's death, but I feel as if I am standing on shifting sands with my family."
"And with me," Arilyn added softly.
"No. You only do what you must," he protested.
"The end is the same. Promises made and not kept. You need to know where things stand and whom you can trust." She fell silent. For a long time she looked troubled, as if she were fighting some invisible battle.
"You must speak with her," she said abruptly. "Lilly. Get a cleric, summon her spirit. Find out who killed her, and put your mind at ease. Whether it was Elaith or not, you will know, and you can move on."
He regarded her with astonishment. "Elves do not believe in this. You fought me over Oth's possible resurrection."
"I do not like it, but it's a matter of elven tradition, not principle. Right now, it's something you need."
He was deeply moved that she would set aside her elven scruples, putting his concerns paramount. Gently he touched her cheek. "Thank you."
She twisted away and stalked toward the door. "Let's get it over with."
Danilo swallowed a grin. "Let's. If we linger any longer, we are in danger of finding ourselves in a sentimental moment."
The half-elf sent him a suspicious look over her shoulder, as if she half expected him to be laughing at her. "Later," she said shortly, "and that's a promise I intend to keep."
"In that case," Danilo said, trying to wrest what lightness he could from the situation, "I think I can promise this will be a very short conversation."
They rode to the City of the Dead, the vast walled garden where slept many, many generations of Waterdeep's folk, from the poorest commoner to the most fabled heroes of distant times. High walls surrounded the City, and guards stood watch at the fanciful iron gates. This protection went two ways: it kept treasure hunters from despoiling the graves, and it kept the inhabitants contained. In Waterdeep, the dead did not always rest quietly.
For a moment Danilo regretted the course he was about to take. Peace and rest—surely Lilly deserved that much.
"She deserves justice," Arilyn said firmly.
He sent her a quizzical look. "Since when did you start reading my mind?"
"Just your face. Let's do what we've come for."
They rode in silence to the gate and tied their horses to the rail provided. The guards admitted them, and they walked through the park-like grounds, past enormous statues and small, serene marble buildings. Here and there stood a building that was little more than a shallow facade, for the door led not into an edifice but into a dimensional gate.
Danilo paused before a statue of a white horse with a raven poised for flight on its shoulder. Never had he found the Thann family symbol so appropriate. Both creatures were part of the journey—the horse as a traveling partner in life, and, if legend had any basis in truth, the raven to guide the spirit into the lands beyond.
"Lilly will be in here," Danilo said, nodding toward the small, low building just beyond the family emblem.
Arilyn tried the door. "It's locked. Want me to pick it?"
"No need." Danilo placed his hand on the raven's marble head. Magic guarded the tomb, and none but family members could pass. The door rolled back silently, revealing an empty room.
He took a torch from the holder beside the door frame and lit it, then peered into the chamber. The doors that lined the room were marked with the names of those who slept beyond. No new engraving marked Lilly's rightful place among her kin.
"This is not what we agreed," he muttered. "She was to rest here in the main chamber until her permanent place was prepared. Perhaps the Lady Cassandra had Lilly moved to the commoner's grounds, or even an unmarked plot. If so, she will answer for it!"
They sought out the groundskeeper, a rather stringy-looking dwarf who was relaxing on the grass beside a site marked by an eternal flame. The small fire cast a pleasant warmth into the crisp air, and the dwarf was taking full advantage of it. He lay on his back, with his hands behind his head and his boots propped up on a headstone.
When Arilyn cleared her throat, the dwarf scrambled to his feet and dusted off one hand on the seat of his breeches. This he thrust toward Danilo.
"Sorry for yer loss."
Frequent repetition had drained the words of any empathy they might once have conveyed. Danilo grasped the offered hand briefly.
"Loss is the word, in more ways than one. I can't find my sister's body. It was supposed to be in the family tomb."
"Hmmph. What family might that be?"
Dan told him. The dwarf scratched at his beard and ruminated. "Seems to me yer too late, boy. That family's quick to get rid of servants and such like, ain't they? The ceremony was finished yesterday."
Dan and Arilyn exchanged a puzzled look. "That was not to have occurred until tomorrow. Where was she interred?"
"Not buried. Burned." The dwarf spat into the eternal fire and admired the resultant sizzle as if it illustrated his remark.
"Who was responsible for this mistake?" Arilyn demanded, clearly outraged.
"No mistake. We had our orders."
"Really," Danilo said coldly. "Who has the authority in this place to issue such orders?"
"She ain't from this place, and I'll be lighting a candle to almighty Clangeddin over that!" the dwarf said fervently. He placed a stubby finger on his nose and lifted it to a haughty angle in imitation of his recent nemesis.
Danilo began to get an extremely bad feeling about this. "You're not speaking of the Lady Cassandra Thann, are you?"
"You know her, I take it."
Without intending to do so, he shook his head. "No," he said in a wondering tone, and realized that he spoke truth. "No, I don't think I know her at all."
Fourteen
Danilo found his mother in the garden, deep in the contemplation of the thick tome on her lap. He quickly cast the spell he had prepared on the way over to the family home, one born of his anger and fueled by his haunted dreams.
He intended to reshape the words on Lady Cassandra's page, transforming the scholarly text into an accusing restatement of the agreement they had made just the day before, but the moment he shaped the spell, he felt the magic twist away from him and spin beyond his will and control.
The ink of the open page melted, flowed together. The black stain turned into the color of blood, then leaped up into flame.
Lady Cassandra jolted to her feet with a strangled little cry. The precious book tumbled, unheeded, from her lap. Smoke rose from the smoldering tome, twisting and swirling in a futile attempt to shape the words that Dan and his mother had spoken and that he had placed into the spell. Now their agreement was broken, his trust shattered, and the spell could not recall it.
The noblewoman regarded her visitor for a long moment as she composed herself. "You have my attention," she said at last.
"And you have my promise," Danilo returned with quiet intensity. "I will find out what happened to Lilly, despite your efforts to ensure that this could not happen. Why, Mother? Given the events of this day—the events of the last tenday!—one might reasonably ask what you have to hide."