Still wiping her baby blues, Sis shuffled after me. The barflies stared as we passed, probably wondering what a dame like her was doing with a guy like me. I thought about telling them, but they wouldn't have believed me. Not without one hell of a free drink.

I knocked on the rough plastered wall, three quick taps and a thud. We waited, but nothing happened. I knocked again, louder this time.

A thin voice finally piped up from behind the wall. "You aren't doing the secret knock, Sarry!"

"Yes, I am." I did it again, just to show her. "And don't call me Sarry."

"It's five taps and a thud! Like this!" The wall thudded as she knocked back.

I was getting impatient, and fast. "Imoen! Open the damn door!"

"Geez, ask nicely, will ya? I was just trying to help."

Dames. Shorthand for trouble. My other little sister was no exception to the rule. She was a good kid, with a lightning-fast tongue that never quite managed to conceal her tender heart. More often than not, that combination got her into trouble, and I was the one she'd call to bail her out. Still, she'd given me part of her soul, so I kept her on the payroll.

The wall swung open, and I showed Sis into my office. Two battered pine desks, one large and one small, occupied most of the juiced-up crypt. We'd propped the empty sarcophagus up against the wall. It made a good filing cabinet with the wooden dividers Imoen had conjured up.

"Quaint little place you have here," said Sis, letting me take her cloak.

I hung up her duds on the cloakrack and tossed my hat in the general direction of my desk. "It's lavish, but I call it home."

"Mirielle!!!" A purple blur tackled Sis, sending her crashing to the floor. "Gee, it's great to see ya! Where have you been, anyway?"

"Imoen, I—" Sis did a double take. "Did you dye your hair again?"

"Only 'cause I was bored. Like it?"

I never understood how Imoen managed to hide in the shadows. With that purple hair, she stood out more than a balrog in a ballroom. Sis might have been wondering the same thing. If she was, she knew better than to say it. "It's... interesting. Truly unique."

"Thanks!" Imoen helped Sis back onto her feet. "So, haven't seen you for a long time! What'cha been up to, huh? You don't write, you don't call me on my scrying ball... I bet you've been busy, huh?" Imoen leered and perched herself on the corner of my desk. "Same old Miri. It's a wonder you haven't worn your little Kelseykins out by now... uh... hey, what's wrong?"

"Ixnay on the Elsey-kay," I muttered.

"It's okay, Sarevok," Sis choked out, her eyes bright. "She doesn't know."

Imoen cocked her head to one side. "Know what?"

"Kelsey's dead." I rummaged around in my desk for a fine Chultan cigar.

Imoen's hand flew to her mouth. She looked like someone had whacked her with a blackjack. "Dead?"

Sis collapsed into the chair that I pulled out for her. "It happened two days ago," she said. "We were in the workshop with the latest batch of Kelsey's Beauty Oil. The shops had ordered a big shipment, at least eighty crates, so I packed while Kelsey concocted." Her lips thinned. "Kelsey never wanted to pack. He always wanted to spend his time playing with his flasks, just like a boy playing with a potionmaking set."

I clipped the end of the cigar and lit it. Sis had always been fond of the boring details. I wished she would hurry up and get to the point.

"Well, we finally finished up around midnight. Kelsey told me he'd be right up, so I went to bed. I never thought that would be the last time I'd see him." Her eyes began to leak. "I came down to label the boxes after breakfast, and he was just lying there on the floor, and I shook him, but he was...."

Sis began to cry again in huge, wracking sobs. Imoen ran all over the room, looking for handkerchiefs and water. I sat in my chair and propped my boots on my desk, puffing big rings of smoke at the ceiling. I'd been through this before. When Sis got the vapors, all a man could do was wait it out.

After a few minutes, she wound down enough to speak. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be like this."

I looked over and immediately wished I hadn't. Some dames could cry without getting all red and puffy. Sis was not one of them.

"Take your time, Miri." Imoen wrapped her sister up in a big hug. "We're here for you."

"Have the guards taken a whack at the crime scene?" I asked.

Sis sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. "Oh, yes, they've been all over the house. They're bringing a detective tomorrow. Inspector Trade, I think he's called. The guards said he's going to do some sort of spell on the room and the... the...."

"Body?"

"Sarevok!"

"Don't shout, Immy, I'm not offended. I suppose I should get used to saying it. It was just such a shock." Sis blew her nose and looked appealingly at me. "He's always been the strong one, encouraging me and protecting me, and to see him like that... oh, I'm so frightened!"

She may have been scared, but I knew she was no china doll. Even on her whiniest days, Sis was a survivor. Assassins, mad wizards, and other Bhaalspawn had done their best to take her down, but she'd always come out on top. Hell, she'd even managed to kill me. Twice. A dame like her shouldn't have much to worry about.

Imoen's expression told me she was thinking the same thing, but she was too fond of her sister to come out and say it. "It's okay, Miri. You can count on us. I need to finish some files and pay a few calls, but Sarry will stay over until you feel more like yourself again. Deal?"

I nearly dropped my cigar. "Excuse me?"

On another night, Sis might have declined. But tonight, she was all over Imoen's offer like flies on an orc. "Oh, Imoen! That's so kind of you... of both of you!"

They thought I would play the soft-hearted sap? No, thanks. "Sorry, Sis. I have plans."

Imoen shot a glare my way. If looks could kill, I'd be dead several times over. "Sarevok! Be nice!"

"I'm not nice. I'm vicious. It's part of my charm."

"Please, Sarevok? It'll only be for a night, just until my friend comes. I don't want to stay in my home alone...."

Sis turned those baby blues on me, and I shut my mouth, defeated before I could begin to fight. I knew that look. It was meant to make me roll over and wave my paws in the air. This was one dame who always got her way, and she was going to get it again tonight. After all, Kelsey and I had gone through some tough times together. It didn't matter what I thought of him, or his wife. I'd adventured with him. Now that he'd kicked the bucket, if I wanted any peace, I had to make Sis happy.

"Fine." I stubbed out my cigar and grabbed my hat. "Let's go."