Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [9]
A slender, feminine form stalked the roof two stories above him, a length of rope in her hands. She made no sound and was barely discernible against the dark sky; only the crystal's magic enabled him to see his potential assailant. With his free hand, Danilo reached for the decanter of elverquisst he kept for just such occasions.
He poured generous portions of the ruby-colored elven liqueur into two goblets, keeping his eyes on the magical crystal. As he watched, the tiny figure reflected therein leaped far out into the night. The rope she held snapped taut and she swung like a pendulum toward his open window. Danilo set down the alarm and picked up the full goblets.
A half-elven woman landed before him in a crouch, quiet and nimble as a cat. Her blue eyes swept the room, and a ready dagger flashed in one slender hand. Satisfied that all was safe, she tucked the dagger in her boot and rose to her full height just three inches shorter than Danilo's six feet.
Arilyn Moonblade had been his friend and partner for almost three years now, yet Danilo never ceased to marvel at her talents-or her effortless beauty. Her raven curls had been tossed by the night wind, and she was dressed for concealment: her pale oval face had been darkened with ointment, and she wore leggings and a loose shirt of an indistinct dark hue that seemed to absorb shadow. To Danilo's eyes, though, the half-elf outshone every overdressed Waterdhavian noblewoman he'd ever met. Once again Danilo had to remind himself of the importance of their working relationship.
"Lovely night forsecond-story work," he observed in a casual tone, and handed hera goblet. "That jump was most impressive. But tell me,have you evermiscalculated the rope's length?"
Arilyn shook her head, then absently tossed back the contents of the goblet. Danilo's eyes widened. The elven spirits had a kick more powerful than that of a paladin's mount but his delicate-looking companion might as well have been drinking water.
"We're leaving Tethyr," she stated, plunking her empty goblet on Danilo's table.
The Harper mage placed his own goblet beside hers. "Oh?" he asked warily.
"Someone has placed a bounty on your head," she said in a grim tone, giving him a heavy gold coin. These were given to any assassin willing to take on the job. One hundred more to whoever makes the kill."
Danilo hefted the coin in a practiced hand and then let out a long, low whistle. The coin felt to be about three times the normal trade weight; the amount Arilyn named was a substantial sum He glanced at the markings on the coin's face; it was artfully embossed with an unfamiliar pattern of runes and symbols. "It would seem I'm attracting a better class of enemies these days," he observed wryly.
"Listen to me!" Arilyn clasped both his forearms and gave him a little shake. The intensity in her blue eyes drove the last bit of mirth from the young man's face. "I heard someone singing your ballad about the Harper assassin."
"Merciful Milil," he swore softly, at last understanding the situation. He'd written the ballad-an appalling bit of doggerel-about their first adventure together. The facts were well and truly disguised, and although it did not identify either Arilyn or him as Harpers, the very mention of that society of "meddling Northern barbarians" could create a good deal of resentment in the troubled land of Tethyr. For months he and Arilyn had worked to undermine a plot to replace the ruling pasha with a guild alliance, he from within the wine merchants' guild, and she in the dark underworld of the assassins'