by Dave Gross
Keph whirled and fled toward them, vaulting from bridge to walkway with a hoarse shout. He crashed into two of Lyraene's friends, sending them sprawling, then scrambled to his feet. As the other two spun around in surprise, Starne and Talisk turned and fled. Keph sprinted after them, lashing Quick at the cronies to drive them back.
There were stairs down to the depths of the Stiltways nearby. They raced down them and down the next set, too. Only when they were two levels and a full street away from the vengeful priest did they stop.
"Dark," panted Talisk. "What happened? Where did he come from?"
"It doesn't matter," Keph replied. He held up Quick. Lyraene's blood was still smoking on the metal. He kissed the blade. "Hail Shar, Mistress of the Night," he murmured, his voice thick with rapture. "Thank you."
– — ‹§) The old woman seated alone at a table for two pressed her hands to her cheeks as Mifano crossed the terrace of the Sky's Mantle.
"My dear," she gasped, "I was angry that you were so late, but I see that you must have reason!" She reached out and touched his doublet. "Is that blood?"
"Not mine, madam."
He sat down wearily and reached across the table for the decanter of wine. It was almost half empty and he gave the old woman a disapproving look.
"You are very late, Mifano," she said.
He shook his head and poured wine into a goblet.
"I was late when I left Moonshadow Hall," he explained, "and a good thing, tooI took a shortcut and ended up interrupting a duel." He gulped wine and shook his head again. "No," he corrected himself, "not a duel. Something closer to torture. I was able to offer the victim healing and she may recover the use of her arm."
"My poor, silver-haired dear!" The woman reached out and wrapped her fingers around his free hand. "You're a hero!"
"It was nothing more than my duty," he said, but smiled anyway and set the wineglass down. "And a terrible duty it is to keep me a moment longer than necessary from the company of the charming Lady Monstaed!" He raised her hands and kissed them, then smiled again. "And I must compliment you again on your fine new ring. So many other women of your station disdain amethyst as gaudy, but you wear it so well."
"Oh, you tremendous flirt," laughed Variance. She smiled with wrinkled lips. "But tell me, what kept you at Moonshadow Hall? What has been happening there since we spoke last?"
CHAPTER 7
Feena leaned forward into the breeze that blew through the carriage window. Julith clicked her tongue in gentle disapproval, and Feena grimaced and sat back, swaying slightly with the carriage's motion.
"A high priestess isn't allowed fresh air?" Feena muttered under her breath.
"A high priestess can have fresh air," Julith replied, " but she should try not to mess up her hair."
Feena wrinkled her nose and asked, "How much longer?"
Julith peered out the window herself, but Feena noticed that she was careful to avoid the breeze.
"We're almost there," the dark-haired priestess said. "Now remember: watered wine only and drink it sparingly. Merchants and most nobles will bow to you, but you bow only to the Nessarch of Yhaunn, if we encounter him. Treat clergy as equals, whatever their faith or station. Only sit down to converse with someone who's already seated. Stick to minor topics. That's safest. If you really need to start a conversation with a scholar or a mage, ask about their research but be carefulthey can usually talk for hours. You don't need to discuss city politics or temple policy. This isn't that kind of-"
"I'm not going to remember all of this."
Julith squeezed her hand and said, "You'll do fine, Feena. Don't worry. If there's anything you need to know, I'll be right beside you."
"I'd rather you were right in front of me," Feena grumbled.
It was only half a jest. Her stomach was knotted. Julith had permitted her only a very light dinner that night, and Feena was grateful for that.
The carriage turned and its rattling progress slowed then stopped. Bright lights shone through the windows. Julith took a deep breath as footmen scurried outside.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"No," Feena grunted, "but it's too late now, isn't it?"
The carriage door opened. Feena rose into an uncomfortable crouch, then stepped out as Julith had taught herhead and shoulders first, arm extended to take the hand of a waiting footman, then feet, down to the step-stool placed for her convenience, unfolding gracefully as she cleared the door.
She managed it all without tripping on her shoes or her dress.
"Well done," murmured Julith from behind her as she stepped down from the carriage herself. "Let's keep going."
Feena nodded and moved forward. Small steps, she reminded herself. No need for long strides.
The white walls of the mansion of Ammanas Aum-leagarr, patron of Yhaunn's arts and host of the city's most lavish parties, loomed above them. Tall lanterns of glass and bronze lit the great entrance arch; within it, smaller lanterns marked a path up a broad flight of stairs. The sounds of talk, laughter, and music floated down from above. Other guests to Ammanas's party were drifting up the stairs as well. For a moment, Feena felt crushed, hemmed in like a sheep in a pen, even though she could have swung her arms wide without so much as touching anyone. She froze.
Julith took her arm and drew her gently onward.
As the stairs rose into the open again, she spoke to another footman. The servant cleared his voice and announced, "Moonmistress-Designate Feena Archwood and High Initiate Priestess Julith Harkspur of Moonshadow Hall!"
Feena climbed the last few steps and the night opened up around her. Below the perfect, delicate bow of Selune's waning crescent, more lanterns shone on the raised flower beds and tiled paths of a garden terrace. Along the paths and among the beds strolled the wealthy and powerful of Yhaunn, the crystalline music of flutes and harps mingling with the buzz of their conversations. A few men and women, those closest to the stairs, looked up idly at the footman's announcementthen looked again as they caught sight of Feena.
She could understand their awe. When she first looked in a mirror after Julith had finished dressing her, she'd hardly been able to recognize her own reflection.
Gone were the frilly blue dresses with layered crinolines that Dhauna Myritar favored and that Velsinore had insisted on squeezing Feena into. Julith had summoned a proper dressmaker to Moonshadow Hall. Feena wore a slim gown of moon-pale white silk with silver embroidery traced along the hem and across the bodice. Long, tapered sleeves covered her arms and ended in pointed, silver-trimmed cuffs that extended across the backs of her hands. The high, starched lace collars that scratched her neck were gone as well, replaced with a light stole that draped softly across her shoulders. Instead of ridiculous slippers, she wore solid shoes of tooled white leather with heels that lent her an imposingly noble height. Julith had brushed her hair until it shone, then dipped deep into the neglected recesses of Moonshadow Hall's regalia chests. The moon's road tiara and the silver circlets with their heavy representations of Selune's phases had remained at the temple. Instead, Feena's flaming hair was caught back with a web of silver filigree from which a crescent-carved opal hung over the center of her forehead.
The merchants nearest to her bowed in respect. Feena nodded in return.
"Strictly speaking, you didn't have to do that," whispered Julith as they swept past them.
"I know," Feena said. She squeezed Julith's hand then released it and raised her chin in confidence.
Heads turned as they walked through the gardens. Those few among the party guests who had met Feena before her transformation generally wore expressions of astonishment. Colle Shoondeep actually smiled at her and nodded before doing a comical double take and scowling furiously. Endress Halatar, the elderly high priestess of Lliira, goddess of joy, grinned, however, and shook her hands, holding her in pleasant conversation for several minutes.
"What's she doing now?" Feena asked Julith as they walked away.
Julith turned h
er head discretely.
"It looks like she's talking to one of her junior priests and a couple of merchants about you," she said. The young priestess smiled. "I think she's impressed!"
People who hadn't met Feena before seemed eager to accept her. Julith ushered her from group to group, murmuring names and information about important people.
"Diero Mivaldihe runs a trading business between Yhaunn and the Vilhon Reach," she whispered and Feena exchanged a few words about sea conditions with the dark-skinned man in a green vest. "Betha Horndriver she was playing the harp just now." Feena praised the young woman for her skill. "Arthagus of the Miracleshe has friends on the Merchants'Council of Sembia." She shook hands with the thin and trembling wizard.
As Feena discussed the summer heat with a master craftsman from Yhaunn's fantastically spired Glass-crafter's Hall, a man stepped up beside her. Feena felt a warning nudge from Julith and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was somewhat older than her, with hair that was showing signs of gray, but his face was strong and his shoulders, attractively broad. His clothes were dark and plain but well-cut. He looked like he should have been carrying a sword and she had a distinct feeling that she had met him before.
When her small talk with the glass crafter ebbed and the master craftsman drifted away, he said, "You look lovely tonight, Moonmistress."
Feena was the one who did a double take then, though she managed to turned it into what she hoped was a graceful nod.
"As do you, Guard Captain Manas," she replied, then winced at the words and saw Julith cringe as well.
Manas managed a chuckle. "It seems we both clean up well." He was carrying two goblets of wine and offered her one. "I think I'm as surprised to find you here as you are to find me."
"True enough." Feena accepted the wine and took a sip. It was watered. She raised an eyebrow and Manas gave her a small smile.
"Attendance at these parties is the price you pay for attaining a certain rank in Yhaunn," he said. "Judging from the way your aide has been guiding you through the crowd" he nodded to Julith" I suspected you might have been given the same instructions I once was."
Feena returned the smile. "Thank you for your courtesy," she said.
Manas's lip twitched. "Your appearance isn't the only thing that's changed since we met," he observed. "Before, I would have said that your speech and manners were straight out of the country. Does Yhaunn really change people so quickly?"
"Not on its own," Feena confessed. "I've been taking lessons."
"She's a fast learner," added Julith.
"I can see that." Manas glanced down at his wine. He hesitated for a moment, then said somewhat awkwardly, "I wanted to tell you that I admired the conviction with which you stood up to me and High Luck Shoondeep, Moonmistress. I can tell that you're a fighter. I know how hard it can be when you're thrown into a situation that puts words over actions."
Feena blinked. "I…" she stutteredthen met Manas' eyes as he looked back up.
Both of them flushed and glanced away.
Julith stepped into the conversation smoothly: "Have your investigations turned up any other clues about the death in the Stiltways, Captain?"
"No, ma'am," Manas replied as promptly as he would have to a superior in the city guard.
Feena could hear the relief in his voice at the change in topic. She had to admit that she felt a certain relief as well.
"Are there any indications of another werewolf in the city?" she asked.
Manas shook his head and replied, "No. We haven't been able to figure out why the man was in the Stiltways, either. He only had a few friends we've been able to locate, but they say that the Stiltways isn't somewhere they'd expect him to be. Apparently he pretty much kept to himself."
"If you find out more," Feena said, "will you let me know?" Her voice came out with a breathless rush. She snapped her teeth together, but of course she couldn't recall the words. "If there is another werewolf involved…" she added quickly, but the flush had already sprung back to Manas's face.
"You'll be the first to know, Moonmistress!" he said. He bobbed his head in a hasty bow. "If you'll excuse me, I… I see someone I need to talk to."
Manas turned and darted away down the nearest path.
Julith looked at Feena and smiled knowingly. Feena flushed again as well and gulped from her goblet. "It's your fault," she said.
Julith snickered, "You both just clean up too well for your own good, I suppose." She looked after Manas. "And he appreciates you as a fighter. I think I'd spar with him for a few rounds." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Feena groaned.
"Who's the bad influence now? Let's just move on." Feena looked around and gestured to a trio, an older man and woman and a second, younger man, strolling along a path well away from the one Manas had taken. "Who's that?"
Julith looked, nodded, and said, "Strasus Thingoleir, possibly the greatest wizard in the city. That's his wife, Dagnalla, also a wizard. The young man is likely one of their sonseither Roderio or Keph." She led Feena toward them. "Master Thingoleir!" she called. "Mistress Thingoleir!" The old couple stopped and turned. Julith bent respectfully and gestured to Feena. "May I present Moonmistress-Designate Feena Archwood of Moonshadow Hall."
Strasus smiled kindly and extended a wrinkled, leathery hand. "Well met, Moonmistress."
Feena took it and smiled back as Strasus gave a little bow over their joined hands.
"Well met, sir." She shook Dagnalla's hand as well. "Well met, madam."
She turned to the young man. He nodded to her soberly and reached out his hand as well.
"Roderio Thingoleir," he said. "Well met."
The skin of his hand was smooth and very soft when she took it. His face had the same soft look as wellthe aftereffect of massive magical healing, Feena realized. She wondered what had happened to him.
"Well met," she said. She looked back to Strasus and Dagnalla. "And your other son, is he here tonight as well?"
The smiles on the old wizards' faces faltered, turning thin and strained.
"I'm afraid Keph seldom attends events such as this," Dagnalla said. Her voice was flat, and Strasus's eyes filled with a deep sadness.
Feena cursed herself silently. It didn't take a wolfs nose to know she'd stepped into a dung heap.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Perhaps another time." She fell back on Julith's advice and asked, "How is your research, madam? What are you working on?"
Dagnalla glanced to her husband and a little life struggled back into Strasus's eyes.
"Historical research," he said. "A cache of artifacts recovered from the depths of one of the tunnels in Yhaunn's cliff walls." He swept his hand around them, taking in the bowl of the city, his voice gaining strength as he warmed to his subject. "Few people realize how ancient the quarry that gave birth to Yhaunn truly is. Most historians date the first settlement here to about a thousand years ago, roughly concurrent with the establishment in the 380s of the Chondathan colonies that would become Selgaunt and Saerloon. However, it's known that humans, refugees from the devastation of Jhaamdath to the south, were colonizing the Dalelands to the northwest almost five hundred years before that and it seems highly unlikely that such a vast source of fine quality stone as originated here should be entirely ignored. In fact, I've found supporting architectural evidence for this in Westgate, where a monument erected by the city's ruler about fifty years before the beginning of Dalereckoning is constructed of what is clearly Yhauntan stone."
Feena struggled to keep an interested smile on her face. Hadn't Julith warned her that could happen? Unfortunately, the dark-haired priestess was actually listening to Strasus's tale with interest. Feena couldn't very well tear herself away.
"And the artifacts you're studying?" she asked.
Strasus stroked his beard and said, "Well, that's the really fascinating thing. Almost three hundred and fifty years before Dalereckoning, the northern empire of Netheril fellquite literally. The floating cities
that were its greatest achievement dropped out of the sky in a moment of terrible catastrophe. There were survivors among ground-based settlements, of course, but the last cities of Netheril faded over the following centuries as the Anauroch Desert expanded and swallowed them. The last survivor-state, Hlondath, was abandoned to the sands in 329 or the year 4188 by Netherese reckoning."
Strasus's eyes were fully alive again, any hint of Feena's gaffe clearly forgotten. Feena was afraid, however, that she was about to make another. She scanned the gardens, looking for a way to escape the old wizard as Strasus droned on.
"The artifacts that were brought to me recently are clearly Netherese and had apparently lain undisturbed since they were deposited in the deep tunnel where they were found. What interests me is when they were placed or lost and"
Dagnalla chuckled and interrupted her husband with an elbow in the ribs. "What interests you is the Netherese magic!"
"Well, that goes without saying," grunted Strasus, "but the implications for Yhaunn's history…"
From the corner of her eye, Feena spotted a pair of figures standing a little way off, watching them. Watching her. Lantern light shone on a stark gray robe and glinted off silver hair. Velsinore and Mifano! Feena cursed silently. If she and Julith broke off conversation with the Thingoleirs, the priest and priestess would be down on them like vultures.
Dagnalla, however, had followed her furtive gaze. She must have recognized the clerical vestments that Mifano and Velsinore wore because she cut Strasus off with another elbow.
"My dear, enough with your history. The Moonmistress-Designate has followers waiting to speak with her." She nodded to Feena and said, "A delight to meet you."
Feena's silent curse turned into a blasphemy. At her side, she could feel Julith stiffen as she spotted Mifano and Velsinore as well.
"No, please go on," Feena said, but Strasus was already sighing and nodding.
