The Dream Spheres

There was a puff of acrid smoke, then a soft hissing sound as air rushed to fill the void left by the shadowy figure's disappearance. The sudden wind swirled Isabeau's hair and nightdress around her and then was gone.

Isabeau brushed aside one of her dark locks and realized that her knees were trembling like aspens. She sank down on the bed and considered this new development.

Tethyr, the land of her ancestors. The suggestion had merit, and it fit well with her new and loftier ambitions. However, it was one thing to decide upon a trip to the distant south; it was quite another to manage it. She had no patron, little money, and slim prospects of getting more before the winter snows set in. The only solution she could devise was to return to Waterdeep and recover the lost treasure. When she had accomplished that, she could return to her homeland in style.

Yes, that was what she would do. Isabeau rose, her mind made up, and continued stuffing the garments owned by some Eltorchul woman into the traveling chest. She would have the dream spheres, and she knew just how to get them.

Let the half-elf and her courtier chase down the magical toys. She would follow them, as the desert jackal slinks after a pride of hunting lions. Jackals ate well, as a rule.

It did not concern her that many had died because of these spheres—some of them at her hand. She would not meet that fate. Arilyn and Danilo were powerful buffers. When they fell, Isabeau would know to retreat.

She began to hum as she finished her packing. The servants who carried her things to the stables and handed her up onto her horse commented with admiration on her courage and resilience.

"I will be fine," she assured them. "I will do very well indeed."

* * * * *

Danilo knew he was dreaming, but he took little comfort from that knowledge. Images, disjointed and surreal, chased each other through his shallow, restless slumber.

A small white kitten playing in a courtyard. The sudden descent of night, and the approach of an owl. He tried to intervene but found he could neither speak nor move. A child chasing a ball into the street, unaware of the carriage bearing down upon her. Again and again—grim variations on the theme.

A cool hand smoothed over his forehead. Still caught up in the tumble of dream images, Danilo responded to this new threat. He seized the thin wrist and tugged. It was a great relief to be able to act at last. On instinct, he twisted and pi

A familiar voice said his name. He emerged fully from the nightmare and looked down into Arilyn's face. She regarded him calmly, which made him feel all the more nonplussed at being caught so much out of countenance.

"Are my wards and locks so poor that you could easily overcome them?" he asked.

"Probably," she said mildly, "but Monroe let me in."

"Ah." Dan moved aside and let her rise. "Well, that's reassuring. I suppose." He rose and placed his hands to the small of his back as he tried to ease out the stiffness of his restless sleep. "Where have you been?"

"I went after Isabeau."

He froze in mid stretch. "She's dead, I suppose."

"No."

"You're unusually tolerant. In this case, I'm not sure I approve."

"She will get her due," the half-elf said with certainty. "Soon, I'm guessing."

He eyed her sharply. "Meaning?"

"Isabeau claims she took Lilly's place to save her own life. She says she was pursued by Elaith Craulnober. Dan, before you deny the possibility, remember that Elaith probably has the Mhaorkiira. Remember that Lilly might have sold it."

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 Tha

"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!"