Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [73]
He hit hard and tumbled through layers of foliage, grabbing wildly for a hold until his hands closed on a branch. Pulling himself up onto a large limb, he straddled the branch and leaned wearily against the tree's trunk. His face stung from a dozen scratches, and when he brushed a strand of hair away from face his hand came away tinged with blood. Danilo shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe all those people who think me a fool are onto something," he muttered.
Once Danilo's sense of balance was restored, the rest of the ascent was easy. He climbed the sprawling elm and slipped in through the guest room window without further incident.
From the floor below, he heard the clatter of dishes. He'd have to hurry. After pouring some cold water from a pitcher of fine Shou porcelain into a matching washbowl, Danilo dashed the water over his scratched face and raked his hands through his hair to tame it somewhat. Taking a deep breath to steady his wits, he manufactured his most charming and inane smile and stuck it firmly in place. He followed the sounds downstairs and into the dining room.
To his surprise, Danilo found Loene sitting alone at a long table of polished wood, staring absently into a glass of sherry. "Good morning," he said cheerfully as he sauntered into the room. "I see I beat Arilyn down to breakfast. Is she still abed?"
Loene put down her glass and appraised Danilo for a silent moment. "Rough night?"
The nobleman smiled sheepishly. "Cut myself shaving."
"Really. What do you shave with? The talons of a goshawk?"
"Dull blade." Danilo selected a pear from the fruit bowl on the table and took a bite. "You were starting to tell me where I might find Arilyn? "
"Was I?"
Maintaining his facade, not to mention his temper, was getting more difficult by the moment. Danilo took another bite of the pear and chewed slowly. While he was still collecting himself, his hostess spoke again. "Sit down, won't you? I'm getting a crick in my neck staring up at you."
The nobleman obligingly took a seat. Loene stretched out her hand and picked a leaf from of his hair. "By the way," she said in an innocent voice, "would you care for some more apricot brandy?"
Danilo stared blankly for a time. "The potion?"
"Very good."
"I thought that stuff tasted familiar." With a resigned sigh, he held up his hands in surrender. "You win. Now, can we please talk about Arilyn?"
Loene's smile reminded him of a cream-sated tabby. "You can count on it."
"She didn't leave, by chance?"
"By chance, she did."
"Damn. I should have known better than to let that girl out of my sight. I am a fool," Danilo chided himself.
"Maybe, maybe not," the woman replied, eyeing him keenly.
"Do you have any idea where she went? Any at all?"
Loene smiled and stretched, catlike. "I might know where Arilyn Moonblade went. I might even be persuaded to tell you."
The true son of a Waterdeep merchant, Danilo did not miss the speculative gleam in the woman's eyes. With a sigh of resignation, he folded his arms on the table and glared at Loene. "At what price?" he asked.
Before answering, his hostess poured another glass of sherry and pushed it toward Danilo. "Arilyn told me her side of the story," she purred. "Why don't you tell me yours."
Eleven
Morning had broken over Waterdeep Way. On the roof of a tall building overlooking the home of the adventurer Loene, smoke from the breakfast fire began to spiral into the sky. In the shadow of that chimney crouched a lone figure.
From his rooftop perch, Bran Skorlsun had a clear view of every angle of the tiny white castle sprawled below. He drew his cape closely about him, shifting his weight to bring some circulation to a numb foot. The morning was chilly, and he was weary to his very core. The road from the Vale of Darkhold had been a long one, and his assignment-to follow Arilyn Moonblade and determine whether she was responsible