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"You set that ready-slayer on me? To what purpose?"

"Obviously not your demise." Elaith inspected his nails. "If I wanted you dead, I'd hardly be standing here enduring this fine weather and the pleasure of your company."

"I asked you a question!"

"I'd noticed as much," Elaith said smoothly, "but you've won time enough to consider my proposal. Have we a bargain?"

"We do not." Beldar gave Elaith a hard stare, proving he was either braver than most men or far more foolish. "What's done is done. I'll take responsibility for my deeds, but I'll make no further alliance with evil."

Elaith didn't bother to hide his amusement. It was rather gratifying to be so clearly and swiftly understood. Mildly entertaining, even, if not quite worth climbing all those steps.

"I did not fail to notice, young Lord Roaringhorn, that you spoke of 'further alliance.' If you should find yourself too deeply mired in whatever evil you now enjoy, do not hesitate to call on me."

Beldar's mouth set in a thin line. "I thank you for your offer, Lord Craulnober, but I must decline."

The Serpent's reply was a small, slightly mocking bow followed by smooth departure.

The wind was rising as he hurried down the mountain. He might yet have use for young Roaringhorn, who seemed to be growing into the sort of human destined for great things-provided, of course, he didn't get himself killed first.

The boy had surprised him. He'd expected insults, and heard none. Nor had Roaringhorn tried to turn aside blame, seeming determined to face the consequences of slaying the halfling. The bleak determination to "do the right thing" was written across his face. Yes, Beldar Roaringhorn was that annoying collision of nobility and stupidity Elaith knew all too well.

Waterdeep held so human-gods-be-damned much of it.

* * * * *

The Dyres' old red rooster was still lustily greeting the dawn as Lark hurried into the garden. His feathered harem fluttered to greet her, eager for their morningfeast.

Lark frowned as she flapped her skirts to chase them off. Naoni should have fed them and gathered the eggs by now. What had befallen this time?

She hastened into the kitchen to find Naoni on the floor, face in her hands and slender shoulders shaking. Faendra knelt beside her, arms wrapped comfortingly around her weeping sister, and a somber-faced halfling stood over them cradling a tankard of ale. Even in distress, Naoni was ever the hostess.

Faendra looked up at Lark, her blue eyes sharp, almost accusing. "One of Naoni's hin guards has gone missing. He'd been… following someone. Beldar Roaringhorn."

"Mother of all gods," Lark murmured feelingly, going to her knees to clasp Naoni's hands. "Much as I dislike the man, I didn't think him the sort to do murder! I'm sorry, Mistress, truly. However this unfolds, 'twill be hard on Lord Korvaun."

"Harder still if Beldar's killed." Naoni's eyes filled again. "He shouldn't have struck you, Lark, but surely he doesn't deserve to die for it!"

Lark gaped at both sisters, stunned. "You think this is my doing?"

Naoni bit her lip. "I hardly know what to think. Jivin was following us. You told Faen our shadow would be seen to, and he was slain. Taeros hired an elf-maid to follow you, and she disappeared. Now this halfling."

"You're linking Lord Roaringhorn to me. Why?"

"Because of the charm belonging to Lord Taeros-the missing charm." Naoni sighed heavily. "You and Beldar saw it last, and each of you accuses the other of having it. We hired Warrens-folk to follow you both and recover it."

Lark turned sharply to the halfling. "The one following me- how fares he?"

"She's not yet attempted to retrieve the charm," the halfling told her, his voice surprisingly deep. "As of this foredawn, she's unhurt."

"Call her off," Lark said wildly. "For her life's sake, tell her to stay far from me!"

The halfling looked at Naoni, who nodded. He bowed his head, drained his tankard in one long gulp, and left without another word, hurrying.