The Dream Spheres

"What in the Nine bloody Hells have you been about?" Elaith demanded.

Danilo threw himself into a chair, then placed what appeared to be a large, wooden snuffbox on the table beside. "Fighting tren, traversing sewers, climbing walls. Nothing out of the ordinary. How was your morning?"

Consternation swept through the elf. He looked to Arilyn for a straight answer. "There was another tren attack?"

"Two." In a few terse words, she described the situation.

Elaith nodded thoughtfully. The pieces fit. Indeed they did.

"Oth Eltorchul and Isabeau were at The Silken Sylph last night," Arilyn said in a flat, even tone.

The elf knew what was coming next. "I suppose you stopped there looking for me, and you were informed, though not without some persuasion, that I was seen in conversation with Lord Eltorchul."

Danilo quickly entered the conversation. "We came here to learn what you know of the matter, not to make accusations. Three tren attacks, in the space of a single day, all of them threatening Arilyn's safety or reputation. There are other common threads: all those attacked were at the Gemstone Ball, all had dealings with Isabeau Thione. Can you see something I might have missed?"

"Nothing more than I said last night," Elaith said. "This was not the first time someone took steps to hasten my departure from this world. Nor, all things considered, will it be the last. I do not know what occasioned this particular attack, nor have I any knowledge of the other two."

"We will be looking into this matter," Arilyn stated.

Obviously she suspected him, whatever Danilo might say to the contrary. That knowledge stung the elf more than it should.

Elaith gave her a faint smile and a courtly bow. "I will consider myself warned. Lord Tha

Danilo shifted uneasily. "It's all that remains of Oth."

"Ah. Turning evidence over to the Watch. Very commendable," the elf murmured without much interest.

"Actually, I thought I'd turn this over to the Eltorchul clan for possible resurrection."

Outrage, quick and sharp and utterly elven, surged through Elaith. He noted that Arilyn's expression mirrored his thoughts. In this, at least, they were of like mind.

Resurrection, was it? Typical human arrogance! The elf could think of nothing more self-centered or more repugnant than disturbing the afterlife of friend or kindred.

"Why do you humans persist in doing this thing?" he demanded.

"Because we can, most likely," Danilo responded wearily. "It is hard to accept that a loved one is lost when magic exists that will call him back."

"You could have mentioned this earlier," Arilyn snapped.

Danilo shrugged and glanced from one angry elf to the other. "I always like to break bad news when I'm grossly outnumbered. It keeps me in good trim."

Elaith stepped between them before the argument could escalate. "Although I regret to hear of your troubles, I can offer you nothing that would assist you. Have you considered the possibility that I have no real part in this drama? That the tren in the Tha

"I have," admitted Arilyn. A wary look entered her eyes. "Lying in wait. They had reason to expect you?"

The elf cursed himself for the misstep. If the persistent half-elf learned that he had been lured to the tu

"I was speaking from your vantage point," he said smoothly. "Of course you could not know that I caught a glimpse of you in the halls and followed you into the tu

Arilyn shot a quick, almost guilty glance in Danilo's direction, then returned a level gaze to Elaith. "If you think of anything that might help, you will contact Dan?"

It did not escape the elf that Arilyn removed herself from the chain of information. Elaith inclined his head in another bow. "Always at your service, Princess."

His visitors left soon after. As soon as the study door closed behind them, Elaith paced over to the hearth and stared at the fire with unseeing eyes.

What was he to do now? The dream spheres he would and must have; that need had not changed with Oth's death. Now, however, he would have to sidestep, if not actively contend with, the efforts of these two people. Under any circumstances, he would rather count them as allies than adversaries. He had made pledges to them both, evoking the deepest bonds known to elves and stirring the very core of his forgotten honor.

To Danilo he owed the pledge of Elf-friend. No elf Elaith knew in fact or in legend had ever set aside that pledge. Arilyn, half-elven though she was, Elaith regarded as both kin and liege lady. The Craulnober clan was a sept—a minor branch—of the royal elven house. Elaith's first sword had been sworn in service to the Moonflower family, and Arilyn was the daughter of the disgraced and exiled Princess Amnestria. She should have been his daughter, but for his own private disgrace.

The elf firmly set aside these thoughts. Despair lay at the end of that path. He had not thrived all these many years away from Evermeet by ruing what was past.

It was easier to ponder the death of Oth Eltorchul. There were few who deserved the fate more and many who might have ordered it. Several powerful wizards had cause to hate the mage. Rumor spoke of several women angered by his treatment of them. Elaith knew of at least four noble families who had reason to squelch the proposed trade in dream spheres—for much the same reason that opposition to his own enterprises in Skullport was growing. Legal trade in Waterdeep was strictly regulated. Illegal trade was even more sternly enforced.

All in all, Elaith's fancy settled upon the crystal merchant, Mizzen Doar. Mizzen had already offered a drunken confession of sorts. Elaith had reason to co

It occurred to him, briefly, to reconsider the wisdom of seeking out the gem. Not long ago, Mizzen had possessed a sterling reputation. Recently Elaith had heard rumors of shady dealings that ranged from counterfeiting to outright fraud. Murder was not out of the question for one under the thrall of the elven stone.

"I am sufficient to the challenge," he muttered.

Was he? A few years ago, he would have undergone this venture in confidence. After all, had he not removed himself from all things elven? The gem would have been to him a rare and legendary treasure, no more. Possession would have been enough.

That was before he had remembered the value of honor, before he had looked into the face of his tiny daughter and dreamed for her things he had long forgotten. It was before he had undergone a quest to reawaken the Craulnober moonblade and hold it in trust for his heir, before he saw and honored the royalty in a rough-edged half-elf. Before he had forged the sacred bonds of Elf-friend.

In doing these things, Elaith had torn pieces from his carefully constructed armor. Ironically, in allowing pockets of virtue into his life, he had opened himself up to the very real danger posed by the twisted magic of the elven gem. If there was yet good in him, the gem would seek to win him. If he were truly a creature of evil, the gem would submit to his will, for that would be the best way of creating mischief. Either way, it would change his life immeasurably, but at least, at last, he would know.