The Floodgate

A long moment of silence followed. Matteo marked the guilt and fear on the wizard's face. It occurred to him that Jinkor the gatekeeper might not have been Kiva's sole source of information. Over the years someone had betrayed jordaini students best suited to her purpose. Who could better fill this treacherous office than the headmaster? Or perhaps Ferris Grail, a diviner, knew who the culprit was but kept silent to protect the college from scandal. That would explain his willingness to allow Kiva to remain conveniently lost.

"You may have Themo," the wizard said at last. "He is released from his jordaini vows. In return, I require your word that you will look no closer at these hidden things."

"I ca

Ferris Grail's face clouded. For a moment Matteo thought he would renege on his promise to grant Themo his freedom, but the wizard's stern posture wilted, and he passed a hand wearily over his face.

"Go, then, and Mystra's blessing upon you. I ask that when your quest is over, you return to the college. There are things you should know before you proceed much further down this path."

"Such as the fact that the necromancer Akhlaur had a hand in our order's creation?"

It was a shot into the clouds, but it found its mark. The color drained from Ferris Grail's face. "Come to the college," he repeated. "I will do what I can to help you. And may Lady Mystra have mercy upon us both."

Chapter Eighteen

Tzigone stared at the green marble tower, trying to imagine her mother living there, doing the things that Dhamari Exchelsor and Halruaan law said she had done. She gave herself a brisk shake, tucked away her troubled thoughts, and marched to the gate. The servant there took her name and her request for audience. When he returned, a slight, balding man came with him.

The unimpressive newcomer did not look like the lord of a tower, but he held out his hands in the traditional greeting of one wizard hosting another.

So this was Dhamari Exchelsor, the monster she had known all her life as her "mother's husband." Before she could say a word, the wizard stopped dead and stared. He quickly regained his composure and inclined his head in the bow that acknowledged a wizard of lesser experience, but greater rank.

Tzigone was not sure what impressed her more: that Dhamari Exchelsor obviously recognized her as Keturah's daughter or that he did not immediately press the matter. An effusive greeting, any sort of claim on her, would have sent her sprinting down the street. Tzigone had learned caution from her mother. Maybe this man understood Keturah well enough to give his meeting real value.

She removed Keturah's talisman from her bag and held it up.

Dhamari studied the medallion in silence for a long moment. When he turned his gaze back to her, his eyes were gentle. "Come to the garden, child. I'm sure you have many questions."

She followed him through fragrant paths, listening as he spoke of the uses of this or that plant. He seemed exceptionally learned in herbal lore and considerate enough to grant her time to adjust herself to his presence. Tzigone was reluctantly impressed.

"I'm ready to talk," she a

"Talk we shall." He gestured toward a bench in a small alcove and sat down beside her. "Ask what you will."

"Keturah left the city the same day a greenmage was eaten by starsnakes."

He nodded sadly. "That is so."

"Do you think she did it? Called the starsnakes?"

"In all honesty, I do not know."

Tzigone's eyes narrowed. "Did you join the search for her?"

Dhamari hesitated. "Understand that in answering freely I put my life in your hands. If you harbor any ill will toward me, you could use what I am about to tell you. Yes, I sought Keturah," he continued, not even waiting a beat to gauge her reaction and thus his own safety. "I employed rangers to comb the wilderness, diviners to cast spells and to read the auguries in the flight of birds. A hundred trusted merchants carried messages to every part of the land a

"Care?" Tzigone echoed. "She was ill?"

"She was preparing herself to bear a jordaini child," he admitted readily. "We were matched for that purpose, but Keturah was never one to leave things to chance. She took potions to ensure that the child she might bear would be among the most powerful jordaini known."

Tzigone's heart thudded painfully. She, a failed jordain? Well, why the hell not? She'd been a pickpocket, a street entertainer, a behir tender, and half a hundred other odd jobs over the course of her short life. There wasn't much new territory to explore.

It made a horrifying sort of sense. Her resistance to magic, her quick mind and nimble tongue. Unlike the true jordaini, though, she also had a wizard's gift. The result yielded a potential wizard who could use magic and yet was nearly immune to counterspells. No wonder a wizard's bastard was considered dangerous!

"The process was disrupting her magic and stealing her memory," Dhamari continued. "I begged her to stop, but she was determined. A very stubborn woman, my Keturah."

Yes, that also made sense. Tzigone's last memories of her mother included her diminishing and unreliable magic. The potions given a jordain's dam could do that. Even so, Keturah might have lived, had Kiva not intervened.

"You knew Kiva," Tzigone said. "Did you hire her to find my mother?"

Dhamari was silent for a long moment. "Yes, to my eternal shame and regret. She had skills I thought useful. No human knows forest lore like an elf."

"But my mother was captured in a city!"

"That is true, but the search was long." Dhamari did not offer further comment. There was no need, for Tzigone's early life had been defined by that long search. "Kiva betrayed my trust and killed your mother. She told me that she had killed Keturah's child, as well. She taunted me about it and gave me the medallion as proof."

"Did you seek vengeance?"

"No." The admission seemed to shame him. "By then Kiva had become an inquisatrix of Azuth-a magehound. I might have prevailed against someone of her high office, but more likely I would have met failure and disgrace."

Dhamari sighed wearily. "In all candor, I will never be numbered among the great Halruaan wizards. Keturah would have been, had she not died at Kiva's hand. I measured my chances against a better wizard's failure. The laws of Halruaa are a powerful safeguard, but sometimes they are also a dark fortress. Occasionally a tyrant such as Kiva hides behind them as she rises to power. The laws supported and aided her, at least for a time."

"Well, that time's done and over with," Tzigone said.

"Thanks in no small part to you. Keturah would be proud." Dhamari gave her a wistful smile.

Tzigone rose abruptly. "I should be going."

The wizard's face furrowed in concern. "Are you happy in Lord Basel's tower? He is a fine man, do not mistake me, but I wonder if a conjurer's path is most suited to your talents. Your mother was a master of the evocation school. You may wish to explore many branches of the Art before you settle upon one."

"Good idea," she said noncommittally, knowing full well what was next to come. More than one wizard had tried to lure her away from Basel's tower.

He shrugged modestly. "I am a generalist wizard of moderate talents, but I learned many spells from your mother. If you wish, I would be happy to teach them to you. Not as a master-I haven't Lord Basel's talent for instruction-but as a gift, in tribute to your mother."

"I'll speak to Basel."