Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [33]
"I'm curious," Elaith said casually. "Say that I were to throw this knife at an enemy. The wound wouldn't heal once the knife magically withdrew, would it? The damage would remain?"
"That's right."
The elf held Danilo's eyes as he strapped the sheath onto his forearm, and his smile was not a pleasant one. "Splendid," he said.
*****
The morning was still young when Larissa Neathal pulled herself from her bed. Sitting at a dressing table before a large triple mirror, she assessed her face for evidence of the all-night party. The laughter and music still echoed through her head, leaving it throbbing with dull pain, yet her gray eyes were clear and her white skin flawless. She pressed her fingertips delicately to the tiny puffs under her eyes, and with a shrug she reached for a jar of tinted unguent. Larissa disliked cosmetics and did not often resort to their use, but she had an appointment within the hour, and in her business she could ill afford to look less than her best.
Last night had been especially profitable for the beautiful courtesan. The socially prominent Lady Thione had opened the Midsummer season with an extravagant costume affair. During the long hours of revelry Larissa's legendary capacity for dancing and drinking had been stretched to the limit. From a courtesan's point of view- particularly a courtesan who also served as a Lord of Water-deep-the party could hardly have been better. She had charmed some business secrets from a smitten Cormyrian merchant gleaned some interesting news from a far-traveled bard named Garnet, and met a merchant nobleman visiting from Tethyr. Lord Hhune-a fat black-haired man with small, unreadable eyes, thick black brows, and an abundant mustache-had engaged her to show him the city's sights. She did not like the man, but, since Tethyr was a constantly simmering caldron of political trouble, she would skim what knowledge she could from him.
Despite all these successes, Larissa had felt vaguely ill for most of the evening and had been glad to see the party end. Perhaps she had caught a chill, she mused, glancing at the costume she'd tossed over a velvet settee near the door, just before she'd fallen into bed. The form-fitting, richly embroidered gown of a Shou princess had attracted much admiration, but thin red satin offered little protection from the chill night winds that buffeted the Sea Ward. Or perhaps she had simply been working too hard. In recent weeks, the Lords of Waterdeep had been stretched to the limits of their various abilities. Larissa's talent was gathering information, and her sphere was the whirl of social events and court functions. She could not remember the last time she'd slept for more than two or three hours, and she was beginning to feel a kinship with the walking dead.
Whatever the case, Larissa was in no mood to play the part of a simpering courtesan, dancing to some stranger's whims. Usually she played her role with real pride and genuine enjoyment but she had no heart for it today.
Well, there was no help for it Larissa stifled a yawn and continued her preparations. First she unbraided her red hair. Since her luxuriant tresses were too long for her to brush herself, she rang the small brass bell that would summon her maid. She stripped off her rings and massaged scented ointment into her hands. Then she rose from the dressing table and glided over to a vast oak wardrobe. Her pale green nightgown, a marvel of translucent silk, swirled and floated about her legs as she moved. Throwing open the wardrobe door, she began to debate which gown her latest client might fancy.
Behind her, the bedchamber door creaked open. "Come in, Marta, and hurry. I must be dressed in an hour," Larissa said without turning.
"You need not bother, dear lady," said a deep, heavily accented voice. That green gown you are almost wearing pleases me well."
Startled, Larissa whirled in a cloud of floating