"Dhamari's servants don't seem particularly loyal," Matteo observed.

Basel's artificially young face turned grim. "With very good reason. Come."

He led the way up tower stairs to Dhamari's study. Matteo entered and scanned the vast chamber. It was like most other wizards' workrooms, but for an enormous cork-board stretched along one wall-a butterfly collection, from the looks of it. He went closer, and as he studied the creatures pinned to the wall, his distaste deepened to horror.

Dhamari had not drawn the line at butterflies. Tiny chameleon bats were neatly displayed alongside a desiccated fairy dragon and a tiny, mummified sprite. Several empty pins were thrust into the cork. Matteo pulled one and studied the fleck of translucent, papery blue that clung to it.

He showed it to Basel. "This looks like a scale from a starsnake's discarded skin."

The wizard muttered an oath. "I would give ten years off my life to know when and how Dhamari got that skin."

Matteo nodded, understanding the wizard's point. Twenty years ago, Keturah had been condemned as a murderer for her ability to summon these dangerous creatures. It was a rare ability, and after she fled, no one had thought to look for guilt elsewhere.

"How could both Tzigone and I have misjudged him so thoroughly?"

Basel reached into a small bag at his belt and took from it the talisman Dhamari had given Tzigone. "I've done a number of magical tests, and discovered that this is not Keturah's talisman but a copy-a very good copy, but one entirely lacking magic. At first, I thought the magic had faded after Keturah's death."

A logical assumption, except Keturah was not dead. Noting the bleak expression in the wizard's eyes, Matteo heartily wished he were free to tell Basel all.

"The original holds a permanent spell, very powerful, which protected the wearer from a particular person and all those who worked in his behalf," the wizard concluded.

"In Keturah's case, that would be Dhamari," Matteo mused. "Is it possible Dhamari kept the original talisman, using it as protection against himself?"

Basel whistled softly. "I wouldn't have thought the little weasel capable of such cunning, but that would explain how he concealed his real character and motivations."

"Why?"

"Ambition," Basel said shortly. "Shortly after Keturah took on Dhamari as an apprentice, she overheard him boasting that he would become both an Elder and an arch-mage. She told me this because she found it rather odd and quite out of character. Dhamari was a man of modest talent, and he seemed to understand and accept this. But enough talk. Let's find out how he got as far as he did."

They fell to work, searching the workshop and libraries for anything that might shed light on the spell Dhamari had given Tzigone-the spell that had hurled them both into the Unseelie Court.

Matteo quickly discarded scrolls describing poisons and transforming potion, lingering instead over anything that dealt with elven magic. This seemed prudent, as Kiva had played a part in Dhamari's goals, or perhaps vice versa. Finally, in the very bottom of a deep chest, he unearthed a moldering tome embossed with slashing, angular runes.

His heart danced wildly as he realized the significance of those runes. He strode over to Basel, carrying the spell-book with the same care and repugnance he would show a deadly viper.

"Ilythiiri," he said, handing the book to the wizard. "I have read legends of Halruaa's dark elves, but I never imagined that artifacts, even spellbooks, might have survived so long."

Basel placed the fragile tome on a reading table and began to page through it. After a few minutes, he drew a small parchment roll from his tunic and began to copy the dark elven spells.

"Is that wise?"

The wizard glanced up. "Is it wise to drink snake venom in hope of curing another snake's bite? If the ancestors of drow elves and Crinti bandits can help me counteract what Dhamari has done, I'll hand my entire fortune over to their accursed descendants!"

Matteo thought of Andris, imprisoned for aiding the treasonous Kiva. "Can any good come of evil?"

Basel sniffed and kept copying. "I could stick my head in the sand and pretend evil doesn't exist, but all that would do is present my arse as a convenient target."

"But-"

The wizard glanced up, his eyes sharp. "Do you want to help Tzigone, or don't you?"

As Matteo held the challenging gaze, his own stern conscience mocked him. "I'm coming to realize moral choices are often difficult and seldom clear-cut," he said at last.

Basel grunted. "I’ll take that as a yes. Why don't you keep looking while I copy these spells."

Matteo held his ground, determined to tell the wizard what little he could. "Queen Beatrix will stand trial at the new moon. Did you know King Zalathorm has charged me with her defense?"

The wizard's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I heard. Why do you mention this now?"

"Since we are working together to free Tzigone, it seemed reasonable to ask your advice in this other matter."

"I don't envy you your task," Basel said bluntly. "Some of the artisans who built the clockwork creatures came forward to identify the ruins. Magical inquiry determined that all of these artisans worked for the queen and no one else."

"Yes." This was one of many disturbing facts Matteo's search had turned up.

"Perhaps you can prove Queen Beatrix intended no harm, no treason."

"I'm not sure 'intent' is relevant here. In recent years, the queen has not shown herself capable of logical thought. Also, any defense of this sort will be countered with stories of madmen and their acts of destruction. Halruaan history has its share of such tales. None of these insane villains escaped justice, nor will Beatrix if this argument is presented as her only defense."

"Perhaps you can prove her work was misused. Under Halruaan law, if a wizard creates a spell and a destructive spell variation is created and cast by a second wizard, the first wizard is held blameless. Beatrix made the clockwork creatures, but Kiva took them away and used them as warriors. If Beatrix had no understanding of Kiva's intentions-and it is likely she did not-perhaps she is protected by this law."

"If Kiva were available for magical questioning, this might be a reasonable defense."

Basel thought for a moment. "Have you considered the possibility that Beatrix's state of mind is the result of an enchantment?"

Matteo remembered the look on King Zalathorm's face when Beatrix said that she'd been enchanted-not by a who, but a what.

"This will be difficult to prove," he murmured, thinking of the oaths that bound Zalathorm to silence.

"Has the queen been examined by magehounds? By diviners?"

"She has. They can find nothing either to condemn or exonerate her. There seems to be a magical veil over the queen blocking any sort of inquiry."

A veil the king could not dispel, he added silently. He wondered once again why Zalathorm would put so important a task of divination upon the shoulders of a magic-dead counselor.

"You look troubled," Basel observed.

Matteo shook off his introspection. "It is a perplexing matter, but I thank you for your council. You have a solid grasp of Halruaan law, as I would expect from any former jordaini master-"

He broke off abruptly, but Basel's wide, startled eyes announced that the cat was already in the creamery. The wizard quickly composed his face and settled back in his chair.

"Apparently you have a good many things on your mind! Is there any particular reason for inquiring into my past employment, or are you inclined to fits of random curiosity?"

For a moment Matteo debated whether to follow this path. The need to know won out over propriety. "Yesterday, after the king named me counselor, you said we had matters to discuss." His heart pounded as he waited for the wizard to admit what Tzigone had hinted and Matteo suspected: Basel was his natural father.