Elfshadow

"Granted," Loene said, understanding Arilyn's anger for what it was. "Forget him, and let's have some of Graves's incomparable scones." She brandished the decanter. "We can wash them down with the rest of this."

"I'm afraid I ca

"You will return and let me know how things turn out?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Loene gri

Arilyn absently repeated the words, her mind already on her quest. As soon as Loene released her, the half-elf reached into her bag for a tiny pot and a comb. She spread a dark unguent over her face for a sun-weathered look, then combed her hair over her ears. Laying her hand on the moonblade's grip, the half-elf closed her eyes and envisioned a human lad. Loene's chuckle informed her that the transformation was complete.

It was a simple illusion. Arilyn's shirt and trousers were suddenly a little looser, and they appeared to have been made of the rough linsey-woolsey that was often used for the work clothes of growing lads. A wrinkled cap held Arilyn's hair in place over her ears and shadowed her elven eyes; work gloves concealed her slender hands. The rest was a matter of stance, movement, and voice.

"What a handsome lad you make," Loene teased. "You almost make me wish I were ten years younger."

"Only ten?" Graves asked with a rare flash of humor.

Arilyn's smile of response was quick and halfhearted. "Please be careful, Loene. A visit from me might be enough to lure this assassin. Watch yourself."

"I will," the woman promised.

"As will I," came the servant's quiet voice.

Arilyn met Graves's eyes and nodded her thanks, knowing that his words held no small assurance. With his thin, ascetic face, sparse hair, and elegant black attire, Elliot Graves was the very picture of a proper majordomo. In truth, the man was gutter bred and raised, a fearsome fighter who could carry a grudge for a dragon's lifetime. He was utterly loyal to Loene, and she would not be better protected by a score of Cormyr's best Purple Dragons.

As Arilyn walked into the courtyard she tried not to envy Loene, but she wondered what it would be like to have a friend as devoted as Elliot Graves. She'd always walked alone, and she wasn't sure that she could do otherwise. Certainly her treatment of Danilo had not been the sort that inspired loyalty.

Resolutely Arilyn put all such thoughts aside. She had long wished to be rid of Danilo Tha

Arilyn circled around to the back of the house. There she agilely climbed the fence that separated Loene's property from Gem Street, a small, lightly traveled alley. She knew better than to try to climb the fence from the other side, which was protected from intruders by magical wards.

Dropping lightly to her feet, Arilyn checked about to make sure she was alone and unobserved. Reassured, she thrust her hands into her pockets and ambled down Gem Street with long swinging strides, a human lad, set on some family errand.

By the time Danilo reached Loene's house, Waterdeep Way was already awake with the bustle of morning commerce. Since he was cloaked by neither darkness nor invisibility, he slipped around the back of the house to Gem Street and quietly dismounted. He spat on his hands and prepared to climb the fence.

The instant Danilo touched the iron, a magical current sped up his arms. He jumped away from the fence with a sharp oath. There had to be another way in. Scratching his head in puzzlement, he squinted up at the guest room window.

His escape rope no longer hung there. "No rope," he said with a soft groan.

So his departure had been noted, probably by that deceptively starched and pressed servant of Loene's. Since Danilo doubted that Graves's silence could be purchased, he would have to talk fast to explain to Arilyn why he'd left by the window. Or better yet, Danilo thought, maybe he could get back into the house and make off with Arilyn before Graves had a chance to inform the women of his desertion.

A large elm shaded the rear courtyard, its branches just of out reach. Fortunately, Danilo had climbed a lot of trees in his youth. He improvised a spell, a simple cantrip meant to move stationery objects. One of the large branches of the elm, responding to the magic summons, bent over the fence and stretched leafy hands out to the young mage. Danilo jumped, and as he caught hold of the branch he released his spell. The branch sprang back to its natural position, flinging the nobleman high into the tree.

He hit hard and tumbled through layers of foliage, grabbing wildly for a hold until his hands closed on a branch. Pulling himself up onto a large limb, he straddled the branch and leaned wearily against the tree's trunk. His face stung from a dozen scratches, and when he brushed a strand of hair away from face his hand came away tinged with blood. Danilo shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe all those people who think me a fool are onto something," he muttered.

Once Danilo's sense of balance was restored, the rest of the ascent was easy. He climbed the sprawling elm and slipped in through the guest room window without further incident.

From the floor below, he heard the clatter of dishes. He'd have to hurry. After pouring some cold water from a pitcher of fine Shou porcelain into a matching washbowl, Danilo dashed the water over his scratched face and raked his hands through his hair to tame it somewhat. Taking a deep breath to steady his wits, he manufactured his most charming and inane smile and stuck it firmly in place. He followed the sounds downstairs and into the dining room.

To his surprise, Danilo found Loene sitting alone at a long table of polished wood, staring absently into a glass of sherry. "Good morning," he said cheerfully as he sauntered into the room. "I see I beat Arilyn down to breakfast. Is she still abed?"

Loene put down her glass and appraised Danilo for a silent moment. "Rough night?"

The nobleman smiled sheepishly. "Cut myself shaving."

"Really. What do you shave with? The talons of a goshawk?"

"Dull blade." Danilo selected a pear from the fruit bowl on the table and took a bite. "You were starting to tell me where I might find Arilyn? "

"Was I?"

Maintaining his facade, not to mention his temper, was getting more difficult by the moment. Danilo took another bite of the pear and chewed slowly. While he was still collecting himself, his hostess spoke again. "Sit down, won't you? I'm getting a crick in my neck staring up at you."

The nobleman obligingly took a seat. Loene stretched out her hand and picked a leaf from of his hair. "By the way," she said in an i

Danilo stared blankly for a time. "The potion?"

"Very good."

"I thought that stuff tasted familiar." With a resigned sigh, he held up his hands in surrender. "You win. Now, can we please talk about Arilyn?"

Loene's smile reminded him of a cream-sated tabby. "You can count on it."

"She didn't leave, by chance?"

"By chance, she did."

"Damn. I should have known better than to let that girl out of my sight. I am a fool," Danilo chided himself.

"Maybe, maybe not," the woman replied, eyeing him keenly.

"Do you have any idea where she went? Any at all?"