Tennora pressed herself up against the wall as the flicker of lanterns came down another corridor.
"Any trouble with this one?" the first man said.
"Not as yet," a second man said. "But the master's said to keep a close eye. Trouble, she is."
"The two of you quiet down," a third voice called back. "You'll stir up Master Clamps."
Tennora frowned. Master Clamps?
"You shut yourself!" the second man, Arvinik, shouted back. "You're loud enough to wake a whole nest of crockers."
Tennora slipped back around the comer as the two relieved guards made their way farther down the corridor. Dareun's lair, and Nestrix was-no doubt-the one they'd been warned to watch closely. With only two guards, she might actually stand a chance, presuming of course she The water beside her erupted as something long and heavy launched itself from beneath the surface. Too shocked to cry out, Tennora twisted, throwing her staff between her and the threat. The creature caught the staff in its jaws and bit down, twisting the weapon from her grip and knocking her onto her backside.
She conjured another globe of light-this one flared into being with urgency, illuminating a crocodile more than three times as long as she was tall, biting down on her staff with jaws big enough to snap her in half. It turned its head to one side to drop the staff, displaying one yellow, blind eye toward the light.
Before she could react, it lunged at her. The jaws snapped shut on her knee. Though the stiff leather kept the teeth from slicing through her, the bite crushed against her bone.
Then it rolled.
Tennora yelped as her leg pulled hard against its socket, but threw her body into the spin. The beast's motion yanked her through the fetid water, swirling her around and dizzying her. She reached out to slow herself, not thinking, and caught hold of her staff instead.
She stabbed the end of it toward the beast and felt it plunge in. The crocodile released her knee with a hissing snarl. The staff had sunk into its blind eye. Tennora crept slowly to her feet.
"Well met, Master Clamps," she panted.
When it lunged at her again, she was quick enough to stab the staff right down its throat. The crocodile hissed again and shook its head, trying to break the staff from her grip. Tennora edged closer, forcing the staff deeper. The crocodile slithered backward down the corridor.
"All right," Tennora said, pulling her staff out. "Back to your nest, beastie."
Master Clamps had other plans.
The crocodile leaped forward, jaws wide. Tennora darted to one side and dived onto its scaly back. The beast thrashed, but she clung tight, wrapping her arm around its snout. It started to roll again, and before it pulled her under, she drew her dagger.
She raked the blade over the soft throat, again and again, until Master Clamps stopped spinning and thick blood streamed from its throat.
Panting and dizzy, Tennora wriggled out from beneath the corpse. Her leg screamed with pain when she put her weight on it, but she'd manage. She looked down at the monstrous crocodile she'd killed all on her own then back up at the dark corridor.
If only Dareun would fall as easily.
SIXTEEN
The home of Nazra Mrays glittered with hundreds of magical lights, buoyed by the laughter of several score pleasantly drunk guests. Plucking a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant, Nazra started another turn around the party, loving the sounds of her painted silk skirts whisking against the floor, the clink of glasses, the calls of her friends and admirers. Nazra wrapped herself in their delight-she did love fests so.
Meridian Cloudcroft, a clever old elf who knew half her secrets but none of the good ones, held his glass up in a mock toast. "Good evening, my dear. A terrific success."
She held her glass up in turn. "Many thanks, old friend. I do try."
"And where's little Antoum?"
"In bed," she said with a chuckle. "He may be my son, but he's only got eight years under his belt, and that is not enough to weather one of my parties."
Which wasn't to say he hadn't begged to be allowed to watch and visit with those friends of hers he knew and liked, Cloudcroft among them. She had compromised-he could have a piece of anise cake and a little watered wine, and he could watch the guests arrive in their finery. Antoum hadn't been happy about that, but it was the best he was going to get.
"Pity," Cloudcroft said. "Have a new illusion to show him." He twisted the rim of the pin he wore, and a small blue dragon seemed to fly out of it and circle the perimeter, roaring. Nazra laughed.
"Ah! You'll have to come by another time. He'd adore it."
"Have you noticed we're missing Master Sandhor?"
She leaned in close. "Indeed. I wonder if he's slighting me or just distracted by something more… political?" She winked.
Cloudcroft laughed. He and Nazra had been friends since she was much younger and much glimmer, and he dark-haired and broad-shouldered. They'd shared more than one bed in those days. He knew many things about Nazra that no one else did, and believed a few more, such as Nazra being one of the Masked Lords and that he might be Antoum's father-though for that to be so, Nazra would have had to endure a great many more months of pregnancy than normal.
She let him have his jokes and played along.
"If he comes late, do let me know," she said with a smile. "I'd like to take some of the wind from that old cog's sails."
"As long as I can watch," Cloudcroft said.
Nazra passed back into the crowd, greeting her guests and praising their attire. But in her mind she was upstairs, watching her son sleep peacefully. There were those in Waterdeep-many of them in her home that night-who thought Nazra Mrays was a paltry excuse for a mother and thanked the gods that she had coin enough to give over the care of her son to hired help. Nazra smiled and laughed, and knew better-Antoum was her pride and joy. Let them overlook him as some spoiled, motherless child; he and Nazra knew better.
"Good evening," a voice said near her ear, "and well met."
Nazra turned and found herself looking into the dark green eyes of a man who-while good-looking-was too young for her. She stepped back, appraising his well-cut-and thoroughly outdated-green velvet jerkin and breeches. He wore a matching half cloak and a silly-looking collar with a great gaudy moonstone on it. Amusing, to say the least.
"Well met indeed," she said. "Though I don't recall meeting you before. I'm Nazra. And you are?"
"A meager star orbiting your brightness," he said with a certain earnestness that indicated he was much too young for Nazra. Nazra raised her eyebrows. At least he had the decency to blush.
"I must beg your forgiveness," the young man said. "I don't often do this, and I find I'm getting ahead of myself."
Nazra smiled and fluttered her lashes in the way young men who read too many chapbooks found charming. "You're doing just fine, dear boy."
"I'm very glad to hear it," he said. "Could we walk in the garden? I should like the privacy."
Erin M. Evans
The God Catcher
A bold one, Nazra thought. Ah well, if he got too bold, it would just give her a good reason to make him the end of a good joke later, refreshing everyone's spirits. She took his proffered arm.
The night was cool, the first edge of autumn taking hold after a long hot summer. The sky was clear, and Selune had the grace to shift away toward the horizon, giving the stars room to shine. Climbing vinestar blossoms scented the garden, and a marble fountain bubbled near the back wall.
"A lovely garden," he said, "though not half so lovely as its mistress."
"Did Cloudcroft send you to tease me?" Nazra said slyly. "A handsome young man, squiring me around a moonlit garden, mysterious as a chapbook hero. You'd better be careful. An old lady like me could have a fit of shock with this kind of treatment."