The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [34]
It was true that Khelben had not advised Dan to stay away from Arilyn, but he had evoked Laeral to support this reasoning. That was hardly reassuring. Not too many years back, Khelben had given up a considerable amount of his own power in a struggle to wrest Laeral from the Crown of Horns, an evil artifact that held her completely in its sway. Danilo agreed that Laeral was worth any cost in magic lost. So was Arilyn. He would gladly strip his hard-won skill down to the most basic cantrip and count the loss as nothing.
But what other magic? Elf and moonblade were inseparable, joined in mystic bonds. How could he possibly justify disrupting that, and what would be the cost to Arilyn if he did?
He pondered these questions until the fire burned down to ash and the night sky faded to silver. When all the argument had been made and countered, not once but a dozen times, Danilo merely stared at the eastern window, praying that the coming of dawn might bring illumination.
* * * * *
The rising sun burned through the sea mist that shrouded the port city and curtained the upper windows of The Silken Sylph. Through it all, Isabeau feigned sleep-no easy task once Oth Eltorchul awakened and discovered his loss.
She held her false repose while he searched and muttered and cursed and fumed. She lay unmoving until he seized her shoulders and shook her. With a gasp, she sat upright in bed, hoping that her expression was sufficiently dazed and frantic for credulity.
"You are alive," he said grimly, staring into her wide eyes. "Good. I was beginning to fear that the thief had smothered you in your sleep."
"Thief?"
Isabeau's hand flew to her throat, as if seeking her necklace. She lunged for the bedside table where she'd left her jewels, palmed them, and then came up on her knees with both empty hands fisted and flailing.
"How could this happen?" she shrieked as she pummeled the startled mage. "Did you not set wards? Have you no servants to stand guard? My rubies! Gone, all of them!" Her voice rose into a wail, then broke into impassioned weeping.
Oth tossed her aside and began to pace again. "This was no common thief," he fretted. "It would take considerable magic to overcome the wards I placed upon the doors and windows. Perhaps there is a hidden door. I did not think to check."
He hurled an accusing look at Isabeau, as if blaming her for the distraction she offered. Not willing to give up the offensive, she tossed back her head, wiped her eyes, and returned his glare with equal heat. "What do you intend to do about this?" she demanded.
The question set Oth back on his heels. Isabeau had expected that it would. If the nobles and wizards were as opposed to dream spheres as Oth claimed, they would not be pleased to learn that a score or so of the forbidden objects would soon be in circulation. Nor would they believe Oth was innocent. The theft of his precious dream spheres, so soon after his presentation was soundly rejected, would appear far too convenient a solution.
"Well?" she pressed. "Will you call the Watch and report this, or shall I?"
After a moment of intense, silent struggle, the mage snatched up her clothing and tossed it to her. "Forget the matter. It is of no consequence."
Isabeau stopped in the act of pulling her chemise over her head, as if his words had stunned her into immobility. She tugged on the undergarment with a single quick, furious motion and rose from the bed. Stalking over to Oth, she stabbed him in the chest with an angry forefinger.
"My rubies were of considerable consequence! If you wish me to remain silent on this matter, I insist upon reparations."
Oth's narrow face turned pale with fury. "Extortion is hardly a wise course of action for a woman alone."
There was a cold, dangerous note in his voice. Isabeau's frightened expression was not completely feigned. She took two steps back, her hands turned palms up in supplication.