The elf rose and slipped out the back door. He circled around to the back of the building and ran his hands over the smooth stone of the wall. A hidden door swung open. As he suspected, the cobwebs that should have festooned it hung in ragged shreds. Some enterprising thief had discovered the door and used it to good effect.
That made his task all the easier. Anyone skilled enough to find this back way into the building would also be adept at moving the stolen goods. Coins, gems, and magical items. There were perhaps four fences in Waterdeep who could handle them all with moderate risk and at a good profit. Elaith would have the dream spheres in hand before the day was out.
He would not return them to Oth Eltorchul. Nor would he see them sold as yet another mindless amusement in this city full of humans who believed that dreams could be purchased rather than earned.
He wondered if any of the fools, Oth Eltorchul included, understood the true price of these fleeting dreams. Unless he missed his guess, Oth Eltorchul had no idea what sort of tiger he held by the tail. Unless Elaith was very, very wrong, the dream spheres could be the most valuable and the most dangerous magical items he had sought in his long and infamous career.
More important was the promise that he might hold in his hands the elven artifact that he suspected was behind their magic. He would test himself against the power of the elf gem and in doing so would answer once and forever the question that had haunted him for more than a century. He would know for a certainty whether the remnants of his elven honor were a wishful illusion or if he was a creature given over wholly to evil. Either way, the elven gem would light the path to greatness.
"Now there is a dream," he murmured with dark irony, "that is well worth pursuing."
* * * * *
Arilyn welcomed the rising sun as a marker that the worst night of her life was finally at an end. She was not by nature an introspective person, but since leaving the Thann villa she had wrestled her way to several important conclusions. Now all that remained was to persuade Danilo to her way of thinking.
His townhouse was a long walk from the lodge where Arilyn stayed, but it was a pleasant walk. The air was thick with the scent of breakfast fires and the clatter of carts hauling goods to the market. Most of the city's folk were abed when the Gemstone Ball had scarce begun, and half their day's work would be finished before the revelers emerged to face the day.
Arilyn could not help but note that this was yet another difference between her and Danilo. He was accustomed to the patterns of city life, while she spent much time on the road and was attuned to the sun and stars. It was no small consideration, but at this moment it and all other matters seemed insignificant.
She cut up the street behind Danilo's townhouse and climbed the stone fence. She dropped lightly into the enclosed garden and instinctively scanned the area for danger. Finding nothing to hamper her, she plucked a blue rose and crept toward the many-paned window of Danilo's favorite room.
As she had anticipated, he was in his private study. She hauled herself up over the window ledge and eased into the room.
"You were wrong," she said.
Danilo started, then sat staring as if she was an apparition. His eyes dropped to the moonblade at her hip. "Wrong?" he repeated.
"Don't sound so surprised. Surely it has happened before," she said in an attempt at lightness. Without waiting for a response, she let the rest of it rush out. "I am not saying that you are wrong about the sword. Its magic is ... complicated. It has been compromised before, and I won't claim that it couldn't happen again, but I do not accept that you are responsible."
He shook his head. "What if I am right? I won't let you take that risk."
"Let me? You can't keep me from taking it! I'm not finished," she said when Danilo began to interrupt. "Think back. If I'd had my way, we would have parted ways the first day we met. The first hour!"
His lips twitched with rueful amusement. "Yes, I seem to recall a certain lack of enthusiasm."
She began to pace. "Exactly. You, however, persisted, and we learned to work together. We became friends, which must have been like pushing a boulder uphill. Every step of the way I fought you. Always it has been you pushing, pursuing, getting me to go along by being funny or charming or just plain stubborn. Because of that, I suppose you think this all just stops when you say it does." She leveled a glare at him. "Well, it doesn't. Get used to it."
Danilo rose and walked over to her, stopping just a pace away. "You wish to remain together?"
She huffed and folded her arms. "Didn't I say just that?"
She waited for him to speak or to make some sort of move toward her. When he did not, she continued. "I don't know how we are to go about this. You were right in saying that I cannot give up the moonblade. That means I will be on the road more often than not. You offered to leave the city with me, but do you understand what that will mean? Some communities of forest elves might accept your presence. Most will not. Many times you would have to languish in small towns at woods' edge, while I go into the trees alone."
As she spoke, Danilo began to see the path her reasoning was taking. He could see the logic in it, but he did not like it at all. "So you believe that we should proceed as we have these past four years. You pursue your duties, I follow mine, and we are together only for a few short days here and there."
"If there truly is a conflict between your magic and mine, that might be the best course." She hesitated. "There is another way."
"I am most eager to hear it."
Arilyn nodded, but glanced uneasily around the study. "Can we go to my room? I can't help wondering when that steward of yours is going to sail in with a tea cart."
Danilo extended his hand. Arilyn took it, and together they melted into the roar and rush of the silver-white pathway that he had laid between his sanctum and hers. The trip took but a moment, but Arilyn was relieved to feel the firm reassurance of wood planks beneath her boots. Danilo did not comment on her aversion for magical travel, but his eyes dropped to her clenched hand and the blue rose she had crushed.
Inspiration struck her, and she stepped over to her cot and let the fragrant petals fall onto the coverlet.
Danilo quickly averted his eyes from the bed and cleared his throat. "You have my full attention."
"For many days now, since I set my course for Waterdeep, I have had no dreams, no summons from the Tel'Quessar. That could mean that all is well. It might also mean that the sword's magic was compromised before I reached the city, in which case it's unlikely that you are the cause. There is a third possibility. Perhaps there is a task for me here, in the city. If so, that will give us time to determine what is disrupting the moonblade's magic and yours. No sense running from a foe you have not even named."
That brought a faint, rueful smile to Danilo's face. "When you put it that way, I sound like a coward and a fool."
"I've noticed that humans often err on the side of caution when dealing with the well being of those they love, but I am puzzled. You can accept that I make my way as a warrior, but not the possibility that my sword's magic might falter. I wonder what you trust: my skills or my sword."
He regarded her with bemused respect. "I had never considered the matter in that light. Your logic is remarkable."
She shrugged. "Problems are like enemies: you name them, track them down, and do whatever it takes to kill them."
Danilo threw back his head and laughed. As he did, the heavy burden of indecision lifted. Perhaps he could not yet see a way clear for them to be together, but Arilyn's forthright approach to the matter made him believe that one did indeed exist. "So what do we do now?"
"Assume that my task is in Waterdeep. As long as I tend the needs of the elven folk, I doubt that any but the most dire emergencies will summon me to the forest."
Hope began to dawn in Danilo's heart. He took her hand and led her over to the cot, and he kept her hand in his as they sat together. "And if the forest elves have need of you, they will have to take me into the bargain. It is that simple."
"I wouldn't put it quite that way," she cautioned him. "Where elves are concerned, nothing is ever simple."
Danilo reached over and cupped her cheek in one hand. "What dream worth having is easily gained?"
"True, but—"
He stopped her argument by sliding his hand over her lips. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
"That's rich, coming from you," she mumbled through his fingers.
She did not seem inclined to further conversation. Her eyes drifted shut as Danilo began to stroke her along her jawline with gentle fingers, then moved back up to trace the elegant points of her elven ears. Few humans understood the intimacy of this gesture. Years ago, in the first bright flush of young manhood, Danilo had been well schooled in such matters by an indulgent elven harp mistress.
Arilyn sent him a look of mock suspicion. "How do you know such things?"
"The benefit of a well-rounded education." He held up both hands, palms toward her.
Without hesitation, the half-elf placed her fingertips to his. Slowly their hands eased together until they were palm to palm. It was a simple contact but far more intimate than any kiss or embrace they had yet shared, for it was the beginning of the elven handfasting, a personal ritual as old as the seasons. Their eyes locked, their hearts opened to each other, and the circle was begun.
"The summer is nearly past, the harvest moon beckons the night," she said in a soft, wondering voice, beginning the traditional words of the pledge they were about to make.
Danilo wondered if she realized that she was speaking in Elvish. It was an unconscious acceptance, one he was determined to honor as well as any human man might. By elven standards, their time together would be short. He would die when she was still young; did that mean that he was never to live? Perhaps nothing about elves was ever simple, but this one thing was plain: for him, to deny Arilyn was to deny life.
Their fingers linked, and he repeated the next words of the handfasting pledge. There were more words, accompanied by graceful movements that held the power of spellcasting and the subtlety of starlight. Danilo was not certain when their words melted into silence, and he did not care.