by Kate Novak
“The deuce you say,” Giogi replied, rising with alarm. “Not the animals?”
“Daisyeye appears to be unaffected. The buggy is damaged, though, sir, and it appears someone started a fire but extinguished it before it did much damage.”
“What about Birdie?”
“Birdie, sir?”
“The burro. I named it Birdie. Did it have another name already?”
“Uh …” Thomas looked like a man whose ordered life had been disrupted by a visit to another plane. “What burro, sir?” he asked with confusion.
“The one I took into the catacombs yesterday.”
“Oh, yes. You mentioned a burro, I recall. Did you rent the burro from a local stable, sir?”
“Did I—? I thought you bought the burro for me, Thomas.” Giogi replied.
“I, sir? No, sir. Why would I buy a burro for you, sir?”
“Look here, Thomas. If you didn’t buy the burro, what was it doing in my garden the night before last eating my roses?” Giogi demanded.
“It’s only Ches, sir. Barely spring. There aren’t any roses in bloom yet,” Thomas pointed out.
“Eating my roses was only a figure of speech, Thomas,” Giogi said sternly. Then he sighed. “Please, send down to Dzulas’s Stables for a carriage and four while I go search for the burro. Perhaps you ladies would care to wait in the parlor while we get this straightened out,” Giogi suggested.
“Poor little Birdie,” the nobleman murmured as he followed Thomas from the room. “She must be scared out of her mind.”
Cat rose from her chair. “If you would excuse me, Mistress Ruskettle,” she said, “I should take advantage of this delay to study my spells further. If we are going to a wizard’s tower—”
“Sit back down, if you please, Mistress Cat,” Olive interrupted. “I need to speak with you.”
Cat hesitated for a moment, but she seemed to think better of offending this strange halfling that Giogioni held in such high regard. She returned to her chair.
“As I understand scrying crystals, the distance between the observer and subject is no obstacle, correct?”
“Essentially,” Cat said with a nod.
“But the knowledge the viewer has of the subject makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Persons not known are actually very difficult to locate, and the time they can be spied upon is much reduced, right?”
Cat nodded curtly. “You seem well versed on the topic, Mistress Ruskettle. I do not think you need my advice on the matter.”
“No, I don’t. I needed to be sure you were well versed on the topic. Based on what we have just established, who is in the most danger of being scried by your master?” Olive asked.
Cat took a deep breath. “Myself,” she said at last.
“Exactly. So you are the one we need to protect the most. If he can’t spy on you, he is unlikely to discover the doings of Master Giogioni and myself. I have something for you.”
Olive reached into the pocket of her skirt and drew out Jade’s magic pouch. She undid the laces and felt around inside for the “amulet.” Stern-faced, Olive drew it out. She laid the object, still tied up in the purple silk scarf, on the table between herself and the mage, as if presenting an ancient artifact.
“What is it?” Cat asked, reaching over for it.
“An amulet to protect against detection and scrying. A very powerful one.”
Cat began unknotting the scarf.
“No! Don’t unwrap it!” Olive warned. “The magic is so strong, it must remain covered. The last person that tried to look at it went blind and mad. Just keep it with you at all times.”
“That’s very generous of you, Mistress Ruskettle,” Cat said with surprise, slipping the amulet into her skirt pocket.
“Well, yes. It’s just a loan until we complete this mission. Try not to lose it. Elminster would never forgive me.”
“Who is Elminster?” Cat asked.
Olive’s eyebrows shot up. “Elminster. The Elminster. Elminster, the sage. I hadn’t realized people from Ordulin were so isolated. Elminster is … Ask anyone. I have another question for you. You were going after the spur for Flattery. What was Flattery going to give you in return for the spur?”
“Nothing,” Cat replied, a little too quickly, Olive thought.
“He said to Jade before he killed her, ‘Now you try to steal what you have not earned.’ Was he paying you for the job?”
“No. He was my master. I did as he bade me without expectation of any reward. That is the normal way with apprentices and masters.”
“You’re a little old to be an apprentice. Why else does one mage work for another? Has he promised to teach you some special spells or offered you a particular magic item?”
“What does it matter now that I’ve left him?” Cat asked archly.
“Well, when we defeat him, his estate is up for grabs, so to speak. If there was something particular you were interested in, it would be yours as far as I’m concerned. Providing, of course, that Flattery still has the item.”
“What do you mean?” Cat asked with confusion.
“Well, there was that crystal I mentioned, the one as big as my fist and as dark as a new moon, the one Jade lifted from Flattery’s pocket. I’m afraid that’s something you’ll have to forget,” the halfling said. “Jade was holding it when Flattery disintegrated her. Whatever it was, gem or magic, it’s destroyed. Of course, that also means he can’t use it against us.”
“Well, that’s very interesting, Mistress Ruskettle,” Cat said, trying to appear aloof, “but my master—Flattery, I mean—had many unusual items. One more or less could hardly matter to his power.” The woman fidgeted.
“Except the spur,” Olive countered, “or he wouldn’t be so anxious to get it. I wasn’t talking about Flattery’s power, though. I was discussing why you became his servant in the first place. I thought this crystal might have had something to do with it, since, when he mistook Jade for you and killed her, Flattery accused her of trying to steal what she had not earned.”
“I don’t know what Flattery meant. I’m sorry. I really must go study my spells,” the mage said, rising from the table. “Please ask Thomas to call for me when the carriage arrives.”
Olive sighed as Cat hurried from the room. Most people would have given you enough rope to hang yourself, girl, the halfling thought. I’m just trying to take a few lengths away as a favor to you—and so Giogi and I aren’t caught in the noose with you.
Thomas re-entered the dining room with a tray to clear the table. “Excuse me, ma’am. I thought you were finished—”
“Oh, I am, Thomas. Don’t mind me,” Olive said, waving her hands over the table to indicate he was welcome to continue with his duties. “You’ve sent for the carriage, Thomas?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How long will it take, do you think?”
“That all depends on how soon Mister Dzulas is willing to rent a carriage today,” the servant explained as he began scraping food scraps into a bowl. “The roads are still very icy this morning, and Mister Dzulas is very attached to his animals and equipment. He’ll wait until the sun has had a chance to warm the streets some more. Less than an hour, I’d say.”
Olive nodded as Thomas stacked the saucers on top of the dishes. “Last night, Thomas, did Mistress Cat’s attacker enter her room directly, do you know, or come in from another part of the house and have to search for her?”
“No one else saw this attacker but Mistress Cat,” Thomas said, stressing the word “saw” in such a way that he cast doubt on the existence of the attacker.
“You think she invented it?” Olive asked with a delighted, conspiratorial smile meant to encourage the servant to speak.
Thomas was not so easily drawn out, though. “I would not suggest that, ma’am, only that the … lady may have been mistaken.”
“She imagined it, then?” Olive asked.
“She may ha
ve had a nightmare,” Thomas suggested, “or the cat may have disturbed her in her sleep, and she awoke not exactly sure what was in the room with her.”
“Hmm. She does seem the nervous type,” Olive commented. More to herself, she mused, “You have to be very careful trying to convince someone like that to do the right thing, you know.”
Surprisingly this last remark drew more of a response from Thomas. “I was just thinking that same thought earlier this very morning, ma’am,” the servant agreed. “The more you try to warn some people, the stubborner they become, and there are some people who will deliberately do something the moment someone forbids them to, even if they wouldn’t have dreamed of doing it ordinarily.”
“The old forbidden fruit,” Olive said.
“Precisely, ma’am.”
“I’ll be in the parlor, Thomas,” Olive said, climbing down from her high chair.
“Very good, ma’am.”
Olive left the dining room through the doors to the main hall, closing them behind her. She crossed to the parlor, opened the door, and closed it again loudly, but remained in the hall.
She then hiked up her gown and shot up the stairs.
Six closed doors lined the upper hallway. Five keyholes later, the halfling discovered which was the enchantress’s room. It was a large, comfortable bedroom decorated in hues of lavender.
One of the windows was open, and, as Olive watched through the keyhole, a large, familiar raven flew in through the window. Another quick arrival, noted the halfling. Where is this man hiding when he isn’t terrorizing people?
Cat stood in the center of the room, her head bowed but her body obviously tensed, while her master transformed into a human.
“Well, Catling?” Flattery asked.
“Someone tried to kill me last night,” the mage said with annoyance in her voice. She looked up at Flattery.
“Really? So?” the wizard asked without concern.
“I thought it was you,” she said, glaring at her master.
Flattery sat on the bed and swung his wet boots onto the coverlet. “You wouldn’t be breathing now if it had been me.”
“Unless you meant it as a warning.”
“Do you need warning, Catling?”
“I’m doing all I can,” the woman insisted. “I want the memory crystal.”
“You’ll get it just as soon as I have the spur,” Flattery said offhandedly, stifling a yawn.
“I want to see it,” Cat insisted.
“I haven’t brought it with me,” Flattery retorted. His eyes narrowed into angry slits.
“You’re sure you have it?” Cat demanded.
Flattery bounced from the bed and leaped at Cat, grabbing her by the throat with one hand in a fluid motion. His face was dark with anger. “I don’t think I care for your tone, woman.”
“Did you murder Drone Wyvernspur?” Cat gasped, trying to keep her face passive.
“Who told you that?” Flattery asked, his brow furrowed with curiosity.
“Giogi thinks you did” Cat answered in a tight whisper.
“And who gave him that idea?” Flattery demanded, shaking the mage by her neck.
“His servant, Thomas,” Cat gasped.
The wizard released the woman. Cat slumped back, raising one of her delicate hands to her neck.
“A servant. And how could he know?” Flattery mused.
“You did murder Drone, then,” Cat stated.
“Not exactly,” Flattery said with a grin. “Something less handsome than I and much less lively did it. Unfortunately, that agent did not return to report its success or whether it found anything in the wizard’s tower. Undead can be so unreliable.”
“How many other people have you killed?” Cat asked, aghast.
Flattery’s face clouded again. “Don’t ask stupid questions, or I could become a widower.”
“You haven’t made yourself a husband yet,” Cat shot back. “You’ve never even kissed me.”
“Is that still bothering you, Catling? Come here.” Flattery pulled the mage roughly toward him. His embrace might have snapped her back had it been any tighter. He forced his mouth down on her own.
Unable to risk a scream, Cat struggled silently to break away, but Flattery dug his nails into her back. The woman went limp. Flattery pushed her away and held her at arm’s length by her shoulders.
“You want the stupidest things,” he spat, obviously annoyed that she hadn’t continued to put up a fight. “Get me the spur, and I’ll deliver. Now, what progress has Giogioni made?”
“None,” Cat answered weakly, looking away.
“None!” Flattery growled, cuffing Cat’s ear. “I knew you were wasting your time.”
“I still think Giogi will be the one to find it, even though he doesn’t seem very interested in it. According to his Uncle Drone, the spur is his destiny.”
“What?” Flattery looked surprised.
“That’s what the message his uncle left him said. Giogi’s father used to use the spur, and Giogi is the only one the guardian talks to. He’s going to the Temple of Selune this afternoon to speak with a priestess who knew his father.”
“LLeddew,” Flattery muttered with annoyance.
“Yes. He tried to see her last night, but she wasn’t—” Cat gasped as realization sunk in. “You sent those lacedons after him,” she accused him. “Why?” she asked with exasperation. “He can’t find the spur if he’s dead.”
“Lleddew can’t help him find the spur,” Flattery stated. “He doesn’t need to see her. Convince him of that.”
“Are you afraid of this Mother Lleddew?” Cat asked with uncharacteristic courage.
Flattery went livid again. His hands shot out, and he pushed Cat backward and onto the floor. “I’m not afraid of any woman. You would do well to remember that. If you value this noble’s chances for finding the spur, you will keep him away from Lleddew and the Temple of Selune. I will see him dead before I see him with Lleddew.”
“But he was going to have her do a divination for him as well,” Cat protested meekly.
“His Cousin Steele already had one done by the church of Waukeen. The message was gibberish. The gods have no more idea who stole the spur or where it is now than my sources in the Abyss.”
“How do you know what the church of Waukeen told Steele?” Cat asked, picking herself up from the floor.
“Waukeen’s priests are more interested in large donations than in protecting their worshiper’s confidentiality. I have ruled out Steele and his sister as suspects in any event. Drone is the most likely candidate for the original theft, since he had chief responsibility for the spur’s security. If Drone wanted Giogioni to have it, he would have provided a way for him to find it. The little fool hasn’t figured it out yet, that’s all.”
“Suppose one of the other members of the family stole it?”
“If Frefford had it, he would have used it by now.”
“But Dorath would have kept it hidden if she took it.”
“Dorath does not have a key to the crypt, and she is too old and feeble to have made it through the catacombs.”
“What about other lines of the family?” Cat asked.
“There are no other lines,” Flattery said. “Only Gerrin Wyvernspur’s heirs and my father’s.”
“Who was your father? And are you sure you’re an only child?”
Flattery laughed unpleasantly. “One of me was all his ego could handle and more than the Realms would accept.”
“Giogi thinks I must be from a missing line, since I got past the guardian,” Cat said quietly.
The wizard snorted. “The guardian let you pass because you are Wyvernspur by marriage, not by blood. Keep Giogioni fixed on Drone and where the old man might have hidden the thing,” Flattery ordered, “not some mythical family member.”
“We’re going to visit Drone’s lab and search for his journal as soon as the servant arranges a carriage,” Cat said.
“Good. Remember, Drone
was no fool. Be sure you check for ordinary and magical traps before you touch anything. Have Giogioni handle everything first.”
“Use him the way you use me,” Cat said sarcastically.
Flattery was oblivious to Cat’s bitter tone. “Precisely. You are learning something after all. Has it occurred to you that, perhaps, Giogioni is using you as well?”
“He’s not that sort of person.”
“No? Perhaps he already has the spur and is still trying to figure out how to use it.”
“He would have told me,” Cat insisted.
“Not if he doesn’t trust you.”
“If he didn’t trust me, why would he let me stay here?” Cat snarled.
Flattery shrugged and smirked. “For a treacherous witch, you can be very easy on the eye,” he said with a grin. “Surely he’s made you an offer.”
Cat brought her hand up to slap Flattery’s face, but he grabbed her wrist effortlessly and twisted her arm behind her back. “He has, hasn’t he? I suppose this means I’ll have to avenge my honor on the little fop,” the wizard declared, half taunting, half serious. “After he finds the spur for me,” he added with a grin.
Olive heard footfalls on the stairs. She drew back from the keyhole and pressed herself flat behind a linen chest. Peeking around the furniture’s corner, Olive spied Thomas at the top of the stairs, carrying a tray laden with covered dishes. He turned down the hallway in the opposite direction. His pace was brisk and nervous. He let himself into a room at the far end of the hallway and closed the door behind him. Olive could hear him climbing more stairs.
The halfling was torn between following the servant and catching the end of Cat’s conversation with Flattery. She was denied the opportunity to do either, though. There were more footfalls on the lower stair, this time accompanied by whistling. Giogi’s rhythmless whistling.
Olive scrunched up tighter behind the linen chest. Giogi strode down the hall toward Cat’s room. He was carrying a furlined cape, fur-lined boots, and a fur muff. He stopped in front of Cat’s door and knocked sharply.
