The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [16]
The girl's eyes rounded, and she sputtered in protest. Arilyn let her have her say, then simply raised one eyebrow. With a sigh, the maidservant yielded. In moments she emerged, holding a pair of low, thin-soled leather boots gingerly between thumb and forefinger.
"This is not the done thing," she began. "The Lady Cassandra bade me to attend you and find you suitable clothing. She will not thank me for this."
Arilyn suppressed a sigh. The boots were obviously elf-crafted, for they were of butter-soft deerskin dyed a rich blue shade that no human artisan could achieve, and they fairly shimmered with magic. Most likely they were worth more than the collar of silver and sapphires Arilyn wore.
"Elves wear these for dancing," she assured the girl.
"Well…"
"If you come to grief over this, send Lady Cassandra to me," Arilyn said firmly. "I will settle the matter."
The girl considered her for a moment. A slow, speculative smile spread across her face. "That is something I would dearly love to see," she said softly.
Arilyn chuckled. "Hand over the boots. If a fight breaks out later, I won't draw first blood until I'm certain you have a good seat. Agreed?"
"Done."
The boots changed hands, and in moments Arilyn was on her way, alone. After the first few turns, she realized that nothing looked familiar. She had been too distracted by her troubled thoughts to mark the way in. Now she, an elf who could track a deer by moonlight and follow a squirrel's trail through the trees, was completely turned around in the maze of rooms and halls.
"Wouldn't Bran be proud?" she muttered, naming the famous human ranger who had sired her. Once Danilo got wind of this misadventure, she would never hear the end of it. Determined to keep her embarrassment to herself, she kept going, merely nodding to the occasional servant or guest she passed.
Her mood darkened with each false turn. Finally she gave in to the inevitable, and decided to ask directions from the next person she encountered.
She heard the sounds of conversation coming from a room at the end of the hall and set off toward it at a brisk pace, silent as a shadow in her borrowed elven boots. She slowed as she neared the door, and listened to the conversation with a mind toward finding an acceptable place to interrupt.
"It is my considered opinion that there is already far too much magic in Waterdeep."
This statement, emphatically spoken by a familiar, faintly accented male voice, halted Arilyn in mid-stride. It was not the sort of thing one expected to hear from Khelben Arunsun, the most powerful wizard in the city and Danilo's long-time mentor.
Arilyn grimaced at her misfortune. If she inquired directions from this assembly, Danilo was certain to hear of her plight.
"You present an interesting proposal, Oth Eltorchul, but a dangerous one," stated a thin, querulous male voice.
That would be Maskar Wands, Arilyn supposed. Danilo had often described the elderly wizard as being as nervous as a brooding hen.
"Dangerous? How so? The dream spheres have been thoroughly tested. The subjects were willing, even eager, and though none of them were persons of much consequence, I am pleased to claim that no ill effects were suffered. To the contrary, the dream spheres gave them a few moments' respite from their dreary little lives."
The man's voice held the well-trained, almost musical tones of an accomplished mage, but the genteel sneer in it set Arilyn's teeth on edge. That was undoubtedly Oth Eltorchul, a member of a wizardly family who engaged in magical training and experimentation. She knew Oth by sight only. He was a tall man with the flame-colored hair common to his clan and ale-colored eyes that brought to mind the fixed stare of a hunting owl. Danilo had studied several years ago with Lord Eltorchul, Oth's father, but he had no use at all for Oth. At the moment, Arilyn was inclined to applaud Dan's judgment.
"Where do these dreams come from?" asked an unfamiliar voice.
A brief