The driftglobe swirled and drew her eyes-and suddenly its heart flashed into a view of distant Castle Waterdeep, from above, as if she were standing atop Mount Waterdeep looking down on it!

"That's how I see all," Teshla told her as the scene faded. Touch the sphere."

Wonderingly, Ambreene did so. A tingling spread through her from her fingertips, and Teshla nodded approvingly.

"The globe will follow you, now. When you go, all can think I was just bestowing a little magic on my kin before I went to the arms of the gods-but this is why I summoned you."

A wrinkled hand moved with surprising speed, drawing up the fine chain that had gleamed down into Teshla's shrunken bodice for as long as Ambreene could remember-and bringing into view a delicate silvery metal dragon's head, in profile. Its single eye was a huge dark glossy gem of a sort Ambreene had never seen before in a lifetime of watching wealth drift languidly by at feasts and revels. She stared at it… and it seemed to stare back at her.

"What is it?" she whispered as Teshla drew the chain off over her head with arms once more slow and weary, and held it out.

The Eye of the Dragon, child," Teshla said softly. "May it serve you better than it did me-and may you use it far more wisely than I did. Take it."

The youngest daughter of House Hawkwinter swallowed, and then lifted her head and calmly reached out for the gem. Teshla chuckled at the imperious manner, and then tilted her head to watch her descendant closely… almost warily.

In Ambreene's awed fingers, the gem seemed warm and alive-and weightless, as if it could float on its own. It held power, strong magic that Ambreene could feel through her entire body. She stared at it in amazement, and then looked up almost reluctantly.

"I-I never dreamed so precious a thing was in this house," she said wonderingly. "And to be given it… Thank you, Grandmama! All my thanks! I don't know how to say it well enough, but-"

"Know what it does before being so free and eager with your joy," Teshla cautioned her. "It is your true inheritance, for only a sorceress can use it. Keep it secret. No one else in this house knows of it… and it is a thing of great power."

Her dark eyes stared somberly into Ambreene's own. "Be warned, girl-learn its ways thoroughly, and use it only with great care, for it steals and stores memories, and can leave a man a hollow husk… as I learned, to my cost."

A frown playing about her brows, Ambreene stared at the old woman. Grandmama turning a man into a… husk? What man could she have been be so interested in-or who would even look at her? It must have been some reckless thief, come to the tallest tower of Hawk-winter House in hopes of stealing some baubles…

"Speculate all you want," Teshla told her, as if reading her thoughts, "but waste not the breaths left to me in foolish questions of who and why. That is my own business, and you can learn the truth from the Eye after I am gone. But remember, and beware: it steals memory."

Ambreene had been about to put the chain over her own neck. She stopped abruptly, looked at the pendant as if it might bite her, and hurriedly slid it into the outermost pocket of her robes.

"Wise," Teshla said, falling back into her pillows. "Now that that is done, and…" Her eyes closed, and her voice trailed away.

Ambreene stared at her in alarm. "Grandmama?" she cried. "Gra-"

And then she heard the rattle of a drawn breath, and slowly and unsteadily-another. Grandmama still lived… and yet, this would be her deathbed. Soon.

Ambreene stood silently by Lady Teshla's bed for a long time, thinking furiously-and then whirled and left the room, striding hard. The driftglobe sailed silently along in her wake.

She was almost running when she swept past the seneschal, ignoring his surprised look and murmured question. She traversed the Hall of Clouds faster than the old warrior had ever seen her move before; he had to trot to keep up. Instead of storming into her rooms or bursting into tears when her chambermaids rose to greet her, the young lass turned abruptly aside to descend the back stair to the stables, and thence to the gates.

The seneschal clattered after her, clutching his scabbard to keep it from tangling in his legs and sending him into a headlong tumble. "Lady Ambreene!" he puffed, his voice imperious. "This is most irregular! Your father said nothing about your going out this day, and with the Great Lady Teshla so nea-"

Ambreene did not bother to turn her head. "Did he not? Well, go to him, and he shall tell you-but stand in my path at your peril!" The lie came to her in an easy rush, and she found herself quivering with excitement and anger. No one was going to stop her, not even Lord Piergeiron himself! Grandmama was her only real friend-and Ambreene had no intention of losing such a precious thing, whatever Teshla might think of the time left to her…

A few breaths ago, Ambreene Hawkwinter had been powerless to do anything about Grandmama's slow wasting. But that was before the Eye of the Dragon had come into her hand.

It was beautiful, yes-so beautiful!-and a thing of power, besides. But what were those things, set against the warmth and wisdom of Grandmama, there to laugh with Ambreene, chide her, and teach her the ways of spells and men and Waterdeep itself?

In all the city, men said, there was no mage as mighty as Khelben Blackstaff. If he could make the dead live and gods whole, he could surely restore one old woman! He would want this Eye of the Dragon, and doubtless do such a small and kind service in return for it.

Briefly Ambreene thought of how powerful the Eye might make her, and how slow her mastery of magic was sure to be without it… but no. Without Grandmama's direction and teaching, she might never learn to wield even the pendant, let alone spells of her own!

She strode down the street as folk stared at the speeding driftglobe and the red-faced old seneschal puffing along after her. A dozen smirking, hastily assembled Hawkwinter armsmen completed the train. Ambreene didn't care. She needed only her eyes to head for the dark and distant needle of Blackstaff Tower.

Every child in Waterdeep knew it; the home of a man whose spells were mighty enough to hurl back liches, mind flayers, and beholders all at once, and whose stern justice frightened even proud heads of the richest noble houses. Ambreene quailed inwardly as she marched along. But she was a Hawkwinter, on a truly noble mission-and Ambreene's name might well some day ring down the streets of Waterdeep as grandly as that of Khel-ben Arunsun. She lifted her chin and strode on without slowing… and behind her, the seneschal rolled his eyes and wheezed along. Fear was on his face as she passed into the shadow of Blackstaff Tower.

A single taper flickered in Ambreene's bedchamber as she shot the door bolt into place with steady hands. She hurried to the dusty space behind her wardrobe, where her few scraps of magic were hidden.

She almost made it. Two paces shy of her secret place, hot tears of rage and grief burst forth, blinding her. She blundered forward, sobbing, until she ran into the wardrobe's polished side and raised trembling fists to strike it, again and again, heedless of the pain.

Khelben had granted immediate audience, and hope had soared like a flame within her until the moment

Ambreene had given him her name. He looked at her gravely and uttered words that would burn in her brain forever: "Teshla Hawkwinter? No, child. Not that one. She knows why, and has accepted her death… and so must you."

That was all he would say, despite tearful pleadings. At last Ambreene rose from her knees, lifted her chin, turned in silence, and left, unheralded. Khelben didn't even look up from his papers as she went out!