The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [90]
The perfumer shrieked and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could block out the double terror of the looming sword and the carnage beyond. His face paled to the color of old parchment, and the bones of his legs seemed to melt to the consistency of jellied eel.
Before Arilyn could speak, Danilo seized the swaying man by the front of his shirt and jerked him into the room. He shook the perfume merchant as a vermin hound might worry a rat. This served to bring some color back to the man's face. When he started to struggle with a resolve and vigor that suggested he could stand on his own, Danilo released him.
Diloontier cracked open one eye and shuddered. "Too late," he mourned. "Gone, all of it!"
"That raises some interesting questions. We'll get to them in time," Arilyn assured him. She lifted her sword to his throat again. "What do you know about the tren?"
The man's eyes slid furtively to one side. "Never heard of them."
She gave her sword an encouraging little twitch. "Odd, that tunnels riddled with tren markings should converge beneath your shop. Strange that a door from the sewers leads into your drying shed. You can talk to me about this, or you can sit before the Lord's Council."
"Talking!" he conceded in a high-pitched voice. "Yes, it is true that sometimes I act as a broker for wealthy men and women who desire the tren's services. I make arrangements, but only through a second or third or twenty-fourth party! Truly! That is the agreed-upon method. It ensures I cannot give you or anyone else the name of my clients."
Arilyn wondered how the man might respond if presented with a name. She sent Danilo a look that mingled inquiry and apology. His lips thinned, but he gave a slight nod of agreement. She turned back to Diloontier.
"All right, then. If you can't name your clients, I'll do it for you. Lady Cassandra Thann."
"I am a perfumer. Many of the noble folk patronize my shop," he began evasively. His explanation broke off in a surprised yelp of pain, and he looked down in horror at the stain on the half-elf's gleaming sword and the blood dripping onto his shirtfront.
"Not an important vein," Arilyn said evenly, "but I know where those are."
"I cannot tell you anything! My customers prize confidentiality!" he protested.
"More than you prize your neck?"
Diloontier didn't need long to balance that particular scale. "Potions of youthfulness," he said, speaking so quickly that the words almost tripped over each other in their eagerness to emerge. "The Lady Cassandra has been buying them for ages, with the coming of each new moon. Forgive me, but how else could she keep the passing years from wresting her beauty from her?"
"I take it that you are not well acquainted with the lady," Danilo said dryly. "If anyone could stare down Father Time and win, it is she."
Arilyn lowered her sword. "What did you come here to buy?"
"It hardly matters, does it? There is nothing more here of value. Clearly, I did not kill these men. For all I know, you did!"
The half-elf's eyes went hard, but she realized at once that this was no idle threat. She was not the only one who would recognize the marks of an elven sword, and once again, here she stood over the work of an assassin. Fortunately, Diloontier had his own reputation with which to contend. "Mention our presence here to anyone," she snapped, "and the Watch captain will be reading an anonymous letter about your visit to this little shop. Now go!"
Diloontier darted for the exit. His boots beat a frantic, stumbling rhythm upon the wooden walk. The half-elf sighed and sheathed her sword.
Danilo looked sharply at her. "You let him go. Do you believe him?"
"About Lady Cassandra? Not a word of it. What does she need with youth potions, if she has elven blood? Although I suspect she would support Diloontier's lie rather than lay claim to her heritage."
He did not refute her. "There is nothing more to be seen here."
Arilyn was silent for a long moment. Actually, she suspected there was much, much