"I was born in Westgate," Alias explained with a sideways look at Dragonbait. The saurial was enjoying the view, watching a round ship from Sembia, riding low in the water, try to maneuver into a dock across the way. "I know all about Verovan. He was real. His treasure, though, is a fable, like the stories about the liches that live in Westgate's sewers or the sea serpent that lives in its harbor."

"You forget you're dealing with a merchant," Victor said. "The books, you see, do not balance. The sum total of everything removed from the royal castle does not even approach the vast amounts of wealth that ever went in. Verovan skimmed a share of every fee and tax the city ever collected, and he bought valuable pieces of magic and art that disappeared into the castle. He never purchased anything with his own money, but with the city's, and he left scores of debts for things he'd 'purchased.'" "So, you believe in the magic door?" Alias teased. "What door?" Dragonbait asked.

Alias turned her attention to the saurial, who had not seemed to be paying attention to the conversation.

"There's supposed to be an invisible bridge leading away from one of the castle's towers," the swordswoman explained to the saurial. "On the other side of the invisible bridge, there's supposed to be to an invisible portal. Verovan's hoard is supposed to be behind that portal." With a darker tone, Alias concluded, "Guarded by fearsome monsters. No sage, mage, or priest has been able to find it, though it's said that the Watch has on occasion found a body lying at the base of one or other of the castle's towers."

"ГЦ remember, when I find the treasure, that you were a disbeliever," Victor threatened with a grin.

Alias laughed again. "So, in your daydreams, what do you do with this hoard of wealth when you find it?"

Victor turned away and looked back across the city. "I make Westgate the greatest city in the Realms," he answered with vehemence. "Greater even than Water-deep. Clear out the Night Masks so people can stroll the streets at night. Build a second city wall farther out so people can expand their businesses and households. Build a navy so we can protect our ships from pirates. Build a library so scholars would come here to live, and an opera house to bring in bards and musicians. Run irrigation to the lands south of the city, with water from the River Redden, so we never have to worry about droughts." "They all sound like good plans," Alias said.

"Yes." Then he looked back at her with a sly smile and said, "Of course, if a certain someone, who was, after all, born in Westgate, would agree to help my father and me, I wouldn't have to discover Verovan's treasure first to get rid of the Night Masks."

Alias chuckled at the smooth way the merchant had shifted the conversation back to his father's offer of employment. "Well, since a certain someone doesn't think you'll be finding that treasure anytime soon," Alias replied, "and does think you should do something about the Night Masks in the meantime, I guess that someone had better agree to help out."

Victor turned about and grasped both of Alias's hands in his own. "You'll help, then? That's wonderful. Father will be so pleased. He won't show it, but he will be pleased."

"And you, Lord Victor?" Alias asked. "Are you pleased?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." The young merchant squeezed her hands to emphasize his point, then released them suddenly, flushing with the realization of the liberty he'd taken. "And Dragonbait?" he asked suddenly, turning to the saurial. "You'll help, too?" "Tell him what we agreed," the paladin said to Alias.

"Dragonbait must return north soon," Alias explained. "He won't be working for the croamarkh, but he will help me until he goes."

"I see, " Victor replied. "Well, I'm grateful for all the time you can give us," the merchant said to the saurial. Dragonbait nodded politely.

A shiver ran down Alias's back. Even though, as Dragonbait had pointed out, she had other friends here, in her whole life she had never been long separated from the paladin. She studied Victor's face as he took one last look over the city, and felt slightly reassured. With the earnest, handsome merchant lord as one of those friends, Westgate might not only be less lonely but more exciting. Still, a sense of dread lingered in the pit of her stomach. In her first year of life, she'd defeated many powerful and evil beings, yet Dragonbait had always been there to back her up. Now, she realized, she had just possibly committed herself to battling the Night Masks alone.

The adventurers and their new ally climbed back down the lighthouse. In j the plaza stood an open, two-wheeled j carriage pulled by two yellow mares. j An old man, dressed in the black and j tawny parti-colored livery of House Dhostar, held the halter of one of the horses. Although the Dhostar trading insignia emblazoned the side of the small black carriage, the insignia was tawny like the horses, not gilded.

"It's not as showy as my father's," Victor pointed out, "so perhaps you wouldn't mind allowing me to drive you back to your inn?"

"Well, I suppose," Alias agreed with a feigned reluctance. She allowed the merchant to hand her up to the single seat. Victor got in on the other side, and Drag-onbait squeezed in beside Alias.

The old man released the horses as Victor snapped the reins. The carriage started down the street at a brisk pace. Although they were crowded and the ride was somewhat bumpier than the one they'd experienced in the croamarkh's carriage, the adventurers felt much more relaxed in Victor's company, and therefore cheerier. "I have other duties I must return to soon, but perhaps, if you haven't made other plans," Victor said, as cautious as a man creeping up on a sleeping beholder, "we could have dinner together." "Dinner? What sort of dinner?" Alias asked. "Nothing formal like a banquet or anything," Victor explained. "Just soup and sandwiches while we discussed strategy. You, me, and Dragonbait if you wish. We can talk about where to start making your assault on the Night Masks. I've been keeping track of some of their crimes, the ones that are reported, anyway. They hardly ever hit near the market surrounding the Tower, for fear, I presume, of the watch, but I've noticed of late they've been preying more heavily on the Gateside district. Whoa!" Victor pulled the horses up sharply as he turned the curve onto Westgate Market Street.

A crowd of people jammed the street. People on foot could negotiate through, but not the carriage. There were already two closed carriages and a dragon cart loaded with kegs of ale stopped in the traffic as the high-strung carriage horses and huge-but-gentle draft horses balked at pressing further into the mass of people. As Victor began backing the carriage so that he could take it down. a side street, Alias and Dragonbait peered ahead to discover the reason for the gathering.

The crowd, it turned out, was an audience. In the plaza in front of the House of the Wheel, the local temple of Gond, was a street theater troupe performing atop the temple stairs. "It's Jamal's troupe," the paladin said. "Are you sure?" Alias asked. "I don't see her." Dragonbait nodded.

Alias laid her hand on Victor's arm. "I know you have to get back to your business, but do you mind very much if we stay and watch this?"

"There's a novel idea," the young merchant said with amusement. He eased the horses forward, nudging people aside until the carriage was only thirty feet from the stairs. Dragonbait stood on the carriage step and Abas and Victor made themselves comfortable. Looming over the heads of the other spectators, the three had an excellent view cf the performance.