“Perhaps the gnome priestess erred.”

“An unlikely possibility, but one I have already considered. Gellana Mirrorshade permitted me to test the murder weapon myself,” the Harper said. “I cast the needed spell not once, but three times. Each time the result was the same. The dagger is indisputably yours, and it was indeed responsible for the killing stroke. Now, I understand that most people would hardly consider my command of magic sufficient to such a task-”

“Save your breath,” Elaith said curtly. “I have seen what you can do. Your command of magic exceeds my own. If it suits you to play the fool and muck about with minstrels, that is your affair.”

“Enough said, then. Let’s consider the murder weapon. Was the dagger ever out of your keeping? Did you entrust it to another? Loose it in a game of dice? Anything?”

Elaith hesitated, then shook his head. “I didn’t even notice it was missing,” he said ruefully. With a grim smile, he nodded to the pile of weapons outside his cell. “I carry several, you see.”

The Harper folded his arms. “The situation is bleak, make no mistake about it. But it might interest you to learn that I, too, seem to be without an item or two. It would appear that there is a very talented pickpocket at work here. I was jostled by the assassin,” Arilyn dispatched, “and you were seen meeting with. And speaking of which, is there anything you would like to tell me about that?”

“No.”

“I had to ask,” Danilo commented. “As I was saying, this assassin would be my first suspect. It is possible that he had a partner.”

“That is a place to start,” the elf allowed. “Then you will do it? You will honor your pledge?”

“Well, since you put it that way…“ Danilo said dryly. “But don’ t get your hopes too high. Arilyn has bought us some time, but not much.”

Elaith’s gaze faltered. “She believes that I am responsible.”

The Harper didn’t deny it. Arilyn had had a great deal to say about Danilo’s defense of the rogue elf. Dan’s ears still burned from the heat of their argument. “My lady is occasionally more elven than she realizes,” he said dryly.

This earned a small, wry smile from Elaith. “If she could not be supportive, at least she has been fair. More than fair. I don’ t suppose my other employees have followed her example.”

“The caravan guards have already drawn their pay from the quartermaster, and plan to scatter once the gates of the city are opened. Forgive me, but the prevailing attitude seems to be that this is a long overdue justice.”

The elf was silent for a moment. “I am not unaware of the irony in my situation,” he said finally, “but I maintain that I am innocent of this murder. Go now, and prove it!”

That morning, over a breakfast of bread, cheese, and newly-pressed cider, Danilo related the conversation to Arilyn. “And I have but two days to accomplish this miracle,” he lamented in conclusion. “You couldn’t have asked for a tenday?”

The half-elf sighed and stabbed a piece of cheese with her table knife. “I doubt it would help. You know Elaith as well as anyone, and you know he could have killed that gnome. He nearly killed you once.”

“Three times, actually, but why quibble?” Arilyn cast her eyes toward the ceiling. “Why do you persist in this?”

“Two things keep me from giving up: my promise to help Elaith, and the task that brought us here,” he said quietly.

His partner nodded, accepting this reasoning. “What do you propose to do?”

“You’ re not going to like this,” Danilo cautioned, “but we could ask the priestess to speak to the spirit of the dead assassin. We need to know who he was working for, and who he was working with.”

Arilyn’s lips thinned. “You know elves do not believe in disturbing the dead.”

“But gnomes do. Gellana Mirrorshade can hardly deny us this, considering that she called back her own husband’s spirit. And what other course could we take?”

“Nearly any would be preferable,” the half-elf grumbled, but Danilo read the surrender in her eyes and tone. He tossed several silver coins on the table to pay for the meal and followed Arilyn out of the tavern. One of the dark haired barmaids glided forward to clear the table and pocket the coins. The barmaids were hardworking girls, Danilo noted, recognizing several faces familiar from the night before.

Retrieving the assassin’s body was an easy matter. The gnomes had simply tossed it into the midden wagon along with the remnants of the wild boar they had roasted for their guests the night before, some chicken bones, and an over-ripe haunch of venison. The gnomes regularly removed any leftovers to the forest to feed the animals who lived there, and to return their bounty to the land. They gave the dead assassin no less respect, and no more.

Danilo wrinkled his nose as he shouldered the dead man. “I can see why Gellana didn’t want to do the ritual on site. That venison should have been buried long ago.”

“The same could be said of Yoseff,” retorted Arilyn, “but that’s another matter. Don’t you think it odd that Gellana Mirrorshade told us to bring his body to the temple?”

Her partner immediately seized her meaning. “Come to think of it, yes,” he agreed as he fell into step beside her. “Gellana Mirrorshade summons her own husband’s spirit in a tavern. Why would she afford greater honor to a human assassin? Perhaps she feared that the curious tall folk who gathered at last night’s summoning would ill fit the Shrine of the Short.”

Arilyn’s lips twitched. “The gnomes call it the Temple of Wisdom. But perhaps the size of the temple explains the matter.”

It did not. The Temple of Wisdom was undoubtedly a gnomish work-a curious, asymmetric building fashioned of forest-hued stone and marble and filled with odd statues and embellished with gems-but the vaulted ceilings made concession for human supplicants, In fact, the shrine was large enough to accommodate all those who had witnessed the solemn ritual in the tavern the night before. This puzzled Danilo. He watched the gnomish priestess carefully as she spoke the words of the spell.

A dank gray mist gathered in the hall and coalesced I into the shape of the man who has jostled Danilo the night before.

“Go ahead,” Gellana said tersely. “Word your questions carefully, for the dead will tell you no more than they must.”

Danilo nodded and turned to the specter. “Who were you sent to find?”

“A young woman,” the spirit said grudgingly. “What name was she given at birth, and by what name is she now known?”

“She was named Isabeau Thione; I know not what she is called now.”

Arilyn and Danilo exchanged a look of mingled triumph and concern. This was indeed the woman they had been sent to find, and their competitors were also close on her trail. “Who sent you?” Danilo asked. “If you do not know names, describe the person or people.”

“There were two: a fat man who smiles too much, and a small woman. She had the look of the old nobility of Tethyr: fine features, dark eyes, and a curve to her nose. She wore purple, in the old style.”

Danilo recognized Lucia Thione, an agent for the Knights of the Shield, recently exiled from Waterdeep for treachery against the secret lords who ruled that city. She had never come to trial; hers was a private justice. She was given over to Lord Hhune, her rival. The man apparently kept her alive for his own purposes. Lady Thione, ever a survivor, had apparently found a way to earn her keep. She had birthed a daughter in secrecy and given her away into fosterage. Apparently she now planned to reclaim the girl and present her as a more suitable bride to the royal heir than Zaranda Star, a common born mercenary with a purchased title. Danilo forwarded two possible results: the girl would be accepted and crowned queen, thereby increasing Lucia Thione’s influence and status in Tethyr, or she would be rejected, but in the process providing a focal point to rally the anti-Zaranda sentiment and foment rebellion.