He needed to warn them. Finn ran as fast as he could, slipping and sliding along the way. He nearly ran straight into an ox-cart but managed to slide out of the way just in time. The man waved his goad at him and shouted but Finn didn't hear what he said. He needed to get to his friends.
Supposing the Shadow Thieves had been there…? Minsc and Dynaheir were more than capable of defending themselves, but anyone can be caught unawares. Dynaheir at her books, Minsc at his stew pot; a knock on the door, they wouldn't be expecting assassins to call.
And it was all his bloody fault. Again. Everything that happened to him radiated out to the people he cared about. But there was no one to blame but himself. Jaheira was right; he ought to know better by now.
At last he found the alley behind the bookshop. Finn burst through the garden gate and pounded up the flimsy steps. He banged hard on the door. He tried the ring, but the door was bolted. He banged again, shouting for them to open up.
When the door finally flew open Finn nearly collapsed with relief seeing the great hulk of Minsc standing there.
"What is this? Friend Finn! Boo wonders why you are knocking so loud. Do you need coin again?"
"Coin…no…Minsc, let me in!" he gasped.
The big man didn't have much choice as Finn fell onto the step. Minsc's hands seized him and dragged him inside.
"Coin, no, but he needs breath, Boo!" he proclaimed. "But Finn…Finn is covered in blood?"
The ranger looked at his stained hands in surprise. Dynaheir rushed to his side, kneeling over Finn as he lay on the rug.
"What has happened?" she exclaimed. "Hast thou been seeking the book?"
"No book has done this, Dynaheir!" Minsc informed her. "Boo sees the mark of daggers and arrows!"
"I'm alright," Finn gasped again. "I just…needed to get here fast."
"Minsc, there be potions of healing in the box under my bed. Fetch them," Dynaheir said. The man disappeared and she continued to examine Finn.
"I'm fine. Really," he assured her.
Finn pulled himself up into a sitting position, trying to hide the obvious slashes in his bloody clothes. Dynaheir leaned back and stared at him; her eyes were wide, but Finn couldn't tell if she was afraid.
Minsc returned with an armful of bottles, and Finn drank one at Dynaheir's insistence. He felt that heat wash over him and his ribs hurt a little less. Really though his own blood had already begun the potion's work. Cursed blood wasn't all bad, he had to admit.
"Tell us then what has happened," Dynaheir said.
Finn gritted his teeth. "Shadow Thieves. After me. I thought…they might be after you, too."
"Who are these thieves who hide in the shadows?" Minsc bellowed. "There is no greater sin than being a thief! Woe to them who would rob our friends, Boo! No thief would dare come here, where the heroes of Rashemen reside! Their thieving butts would be kicked, but good!"
Boo squeaked in agreement, or possibly because his excited master was holding him too tightly. But Dynaheir only looked more worried.
"Shadow Thieves? Dost thou speak true? I have heard rumours of their evil, which lives underground where no light may touch it. But why should they strike at thou? And why come here?"
"Because I killed a man," Finn replied.
He stared down at the rug; there wasn't anything more he could say about that.
"Who is this man Finn has killed?" Minsc said, still trying to clear his mind enough to understand the situation. "Was he a thief as well? That is no crime then, says Minsc and Boo!"
"The Flaming Fist might say otherwise," Finn remarked. "But, yeah…he was a thief, of sorts. It doesn't really matter. What matters is he's dead, and now the Shadow Thieves want revenge. Revenge on me, and anyone they think is connected to me."
"That is harsh, even for criminals," Dynaheir said. "This man must have been of great importance to them. But you did not say why thy killed him? That matters a great deal, I think."
"Because Ione Valesa sent me to his house," Finn replied, looking Dynaheir in the eye.
The mage started and looked away. Minsc though became even more animated.
"Whoever these thieves are, they will cry if they come here! They have struck our friend, and we will not forget it! Do not worry, Dynaheir, Minsc and Boo will protect you! Come, Boo, let us get our arms!"
He stomped off to his bedchamber, leaving Finn and Dynaheir alone. The mage was still staring off into space, and Finn wondered if she had even heard her protector's declaration.
"Are you going to tell me who she really is, now?" he said quietly.
"No," Dynaheir said. She started, and her hand let go of her throat. "But Minsc is correct. We must prepare for danger. I shall fetch my staff…"
"If you know something, tell me," Finn said.
He grabbed her by the arm to stop her rising. Dynaheir looked at him and her mouth opened, but she jerked her arm away.
"In my land, thy could be struck dead for touching me," she muttered.
"We're not in your land. And you've been threatening death a lot lately," Finn remarked.
"It is not a threat," she hissed, her eyes suddenly locking with his. "It is everywhere. And thou…thou art soaked in it. I must fetch my staff."
She strode off to her chamber, leaving Finn sitting on the rug. He waited impatiently for a few minutes, his nerves getting up again. Why did Dynaheir insist on hiding the truth? What the hells did she know? But the mage and her secrets were not his main concern just then.
...
"I don't know if the thieves will come here tonight," he said when the pair had re-emerged. "But I needed to warn you. Now though I need to find Imoen."
He hadn't forgotten about his sister. She was out in the city somewhere, and the thieves could be after her as well.
"Imoen? Where is little Imoen?" Minsc asked.
He was now decked out in a studded leather jerkin that must have required the sacrifice of an entire cow. At his side was a heavy broadsword that could easily cut one in two.
"I don't know," Finn said grimly. "I thought, maybe, she might have gone to Valesa's house. There was nobody home the last time I was there, but…"
"Then we must find the girl, at once," Dynaheir interrupted.
She held in her hand a strange staff. It was elaborately carved, and the images of a hawk, owl and raven peered out from the wood, taking form like ghosts rising from the wood. On the top were set three feathers fixed with a leather cord. She met Finn's eyes again, then drew a veil over her face, concealing her features from view.
"Yes, no nasty thieves will hurt little Imoen! Er, but who is Valesa? Boo says he does not know this person," Minsc replied.
"Ask Dynaheir. She knows her better than me," Finn shot back. "Are you coming with me, then? You don't have to, you know."
"Bad men on the loose and a young maiden to save? Ha ha, you do not think we would stay at home by the fire, do you, friend?" Minsc bellowed. "See how restless Boo has been, with no great battles to lend him cheer! Glory awaits us this night!"
He drew his sword and held it aloft, hoping for the approval of his rodent friend. Boo though tucked his head securely back into his pouch.
"Minsc speaketh true," Dynaheir said from beneath her veil. "We all are in danger here. Together we stand stronger."
"I'm glad you think so," Finn said. "But if we're all ready then, let's go."
He opened the door cautiously, expecting an arrow or poisoned dart to come flying out of the darkness, but all was quiet outside. The trio headed down the steps and made haste to Ione Valesa's house.
They were all silent as they walked, single file; even Minsc was quiet, and jogged along tirelessly like an old soldier. At last they reached the woman's house.
"Dark," Dynaheir whispered.
"Looks like nobody's in, but that doesn't mean much," he replied. "Come on, let's knock."
"Thou will call at the front door?" Dynaheir said, sounding surprised.
"Why not? She might open it. Come on, and be sharp."
He slammed the brass knocker hard against the door three times. Finn waited as Minsc and Dynaheir watched the darkness behind him. He pounded again for good measure, but he guessed the end result.
"This person is not at home, it seems," Minsc said. "Or your mighty knock has made them hide cowering under their beds!"
"Dammit. Now I guess…home?" Finn growled.
If Ione wasn't there, then Imoen wasn't either. It was a relief in some ways, but he still needed to find her.
"But there was someone here, not long ago," Minsc continued. "See the tracks in the snow! Fresh, they are. They do not stop at the front door, but go around the house."
The big man's wilderness eyes hadn't been dulled by living in the city. There were three sets of tracks, and none of them were left by a girl.
"Come on," Finn said quietly.
...
He drew his blade and Minsc did the same. Dynaheir spoke words under her breath, and a flash of light shimmered around her body then vanished. The tracks went up to the back door. It was open a crack, and moved subtly in the breeze.
Finn didn't say anything; he didn't need to. Silently he stepped inside, with Minsc behind him and Dynaheir in the rear. The inside of the house was even darker than outside, and Finn needed to run his hand along the wall to find his way.
"Can't see," he hissed to himself. But as he spoke a strange glowing orb appeared over their heads, bathing the corridor in a blue glow. He turned to Dynaheir, but she was silent under her veil.
So much for stealth. But she was right; if there was anyone waiting for them, they needed to be able to see them first.
The corridor was empty, but Finn led them into the one room in that house he knew. The parlour was dark as the hall outside, and no fire burned on the hearth. But as they stepped inside the remains of Ione's company were there plain to see.
"By the twelve spirits!" Minsc cried.
Finn's heart jumped as the ranger's voice penetrated the stillness, but he couldn't blame him for shouting. Three bodies were in that place; at least he thought there were three. The men had been torn, shredded, and there was enough gore scattered around the room to mark a battle of two armies.
"By my mother's heart, I have not seen…" Dynaheir began, then broke off with a choke. The stench of fresh blood was overpowering.
"What manner of beast did this?" Minsc said. "These men were torn from limb to limb…even gnolls, or hobgoblins most foul could not have done such a thing!"
"See any tracks, Minsc?" Finn asked, covering his mouth.
"No. No animals. Only footprints," the ranger replied. "The size of a human. Did these beasts fly in the air?"
"This is…wrong…" Dynaheir said. She had wrapped her veil tighter around her face, and Finn could almost see her fear.
"You're not kidding," he said flatly.
"No, it is…wrong," she replied. "There is some art unnatural in this place… It goes against the very bones of the earth. I can sense it. No mere beasts did this. It was evil."
Finn scowled. He didn't doubt she was right, but for once it wasn't his doing.
"We need to search this place," he said, tearing his eyes away from the eviscerated thieves. "Imoen might have come here. And whatever…thing…did this, it might still be here. Let's go!"
There was no one in the dining room. There was a study filled with books and papers, but Finn couldn't spare time to look through them. The kitchen was truly empty; apart from a few bottles of wine, there appeared to be no food at all in the house. Dust covered the kitchen table and the hearth hadn't seen a fire in a long time.
"I don't think this woman actually lives here," Finn said, running a hand over the dusty table. "It must be a squat, or a front. No surprise there, really."
"But if the woman does not own this house, then where are the true owners?" Minsc asked.
"Dead, most likely. Too bad for them. Come on, let's look upstairs," he replied.
"Shall we not search the cellars first?" Dynaheir said.
Finn looked at the cellar door. It was firmly shut. He felt a sudden chill wash over him and shook his head.
"No…upstairs. If we don't find anything there, we'll come back down."
He wouldn't admit that he was afraid to go down there. It was too daft. After all he'd been through, to be afraid to set foot in a dusty cellar? Finn couldn't explain it himself, but he didn't care. There was something…like a sensation tingling at the back of his neck. He didn't want to go down there.
...
They mounted the wide staircase and searched the bedrooms, but the place was entirely empty. Looking around only affirmed Finn's belief that the house was abandoned. Spider webs hung from the posts on the beds like lace, and a thin layer of dust was everywhere. It was obvious no one had been in those rooms in a long time.
But there was still no sign of Imoen or Valesa. No monsters either, thankfully. Finn stepped up to a window, peering through the slats in the shutters at the dark street below, hoping somehow to see Imoen.
A sudden movement at his side made him jump and reach for his weapon. But it was only his reflection in a dirty mirror.
"Thou art tense," Dynaheir said, gliding up to him like a ghost.
"Can you blame me?" Finn asked.
"No. This place fills me with disquiet," she replied.
Finn turned to her. The mage was still hidden under her veil, and he could see nothing of her face.
"Why do you have that on?" he asked.
He would see upper-class women covered in veils to protect their complexions from the winter cold as they rode along in their open sledges, but Dynaheir didn't seem prone to that sort of vanity.
"The Wychlaran are meant to be masked when outside our lands, that we may be unknowable," she said.
"But I've never seen you cover up before," he remarked.
"No… Truthfully, I abandoned the custom not long after we left our home. In Rashemen no one dare question our power, but elsewhere a masked face doth bring only ridicule, or fear. If we did not wish to face a battle at each inn we did visit, there was little other choice."
"Defying your own laws, then? What's the penalty for that?"
He folded his arms and looked at her. Surprisingly Dynaheir raised her veil, throwing it back so her glare of indignation would not go unnoticed.
"And you mock, again. It is in your nature, it seems. And what dost thou hide?"
"What I'm hiding? Dynaheir, you already know."
He leaned forward to hiss in her ear. She looked at him in shock, and Finn thought she actually looked frightened for a moment. But they heard the sound of Minsc's boots in the hall and Dynaheir's veil fell over her face again.
"Silence," the big man said, not doing a great job of it himself. "Boo says his ears can hear someone downstairs!"
Finn hurried to the door, cursing as a board groaned under his feet. Anyone downstairs would have heard them, no doubt. Dynaheir snuffed out her mage-light, leaving the room in total darkness. Finn left the door open a crack and waited, sword in hand, for whoever might appear.
He could hear someone drawing closer. Quiet steps, soft on the hall carpet outside. Whoever it was had no light. Finn shut his eyes and mentally reached out, trying to discover anything about those steps. But his senses failed him, and all he could hear was the subtle sounds of footsteps coming nearer.
There was a low creak; they were just outside the door. Finn clenched the hilt of his sword.
He could feel the door opening even in the darkness. Suddenly a fizzling array of crackling lights filled the room; Dynaheir cast a spell. Finn took his chance and whirled towards the figure who stopped there, dazzled by the lights. Dazzled or not though the figure was quick as him, and parried his strike with ease. Finn could barely see but there was something familiar in the way he handled a sword. He was left in no doubt though by the shrill voice that called out from behind.
"Finn! Put down your weapons!"
"Bloody hells, Jaheira!" Finn shouted back, nearly tripping over his own feet in the dark. Dynaheir's mage-light flashed back into existence, leaving Finn face-to-face with a pair of startled Harpers.
"You think it is wise to launch an attack without even knowing who is there?" Jaheira continued, red-faced. "You nearly took Khalid's head off!"
"Sorry, mate," Finn said, in a breathless apology. "Though your sneaking into the room wasn't the best idea, either. We're all just a bit tense here."
"I c-cannot blame you," Khalid replied, sheathing his sword. "We s-saw the b-bodies downstairs. Though I am g-glad my r-reflexes were quick th-this eve."
"Me and all," Finn replied, clapping him on the back. "And I'm glad you're here. We need to find…Imoen!"
He broke off from his own thought at the sight of the girl stepping cautiously up the stairs, a lantern illuminating her pale face.
"Finn! You're here, thank the gods," she said, likewise relieved. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
"You've been looking for me? Funny that," he replied. "But I think those poor sods downstairs were looking for me, too. The gods know what they found here, but I think it must be gone."
"Then you did not…" Jaheira began.
"You think I killed those men?" Finn exclaimed. "I'm not a werewolf! No. We only came here looking for Imoen, and found a slaughter."
"Then it seems tonight has been one mass game of hide and seek," Jaheira said grimly.
"What do you mean? What's happened?" he asked.
"Some men came to the house," Imoen said. "They said they knew you, but I had a bad feeling… I didn't let them inside. They tried to knock down the door… I had to climb out the window. I ran fast as I could to find Jaheira and Khalid."
"And you think they came here next?"
"I don't know," she said, hesitant. "There were three of them, but…"
"But their own mothers wouldn't recognise those lads downstairs," Finn remarked.
"Do you think Valesa could have done this?" Jaheira asked.
"I don't see how," he replied. "That's just…butchery. But she's not here, either. And I reckon the thieves will be looking for her and all. I can't hope that they've all been done in tonight."
"Indeed. Thieves are like rats, there are always more skulking around," she snarled.
"But what do we do now?"
That thought pushed even the idea of a murderous beast on the loose out of Finn's mind. The Shadow Thieves had marked him, and killing off more of their members wasn't likely to endear them further. Where would be safe?
"W-we need to t-talk to them," Khalid said. "To p-plead your c-case with the Shadowmaster here."
"Talk to thieves? Surely you jest, my friend?" Minsc exclaimed.
"Khalid is right," Jaheira said. "Finn is only involved in this by happenstance. Whatever her reasons, Ione Valesa is the one who targeted their interests. With luck, and perhaps a bit of persuasion, we may be able to convince them of this fact."
"I can't believe you'd say that, of all people," Finn remarked.
"Do you think I relish speaking to such criminals?" she shot back. "No. But these thieves will not rest until you are punished for your crimes. Their blades come swiftly out of the dark, and it will not be long until they find you. It is your only chance."
Finn didn't reply. She had a point, but somehow he didn't rate their chances much either way.
"How do we find the Shadowmaster, though?" Imoen asked. "They can't be easy to find, being all shadowy and everything."
"There are those in our organisation who know how to contact such people," the druid told her. "In the meantime, we will take you and Finn to a safe house. You can hardly return home, and it will give Khalid and I a chance to…monitor the situation."
"Make sure we don't get into any more trouble, you mean," Finn said.
"It would take a dozen of us to keep to that task, Finnigan! We have all but worn out any goodwill we have left in this city. But let us see what can be done. We must leave this place, the quicker the better."
Finn grimaced, but he could hardly say anything to Jaheira's curt reply. The Harpers were sticking their necks out for them, yet again, never waiting to be asked, and never asking for ought in return. There were parents who had less fealty to their offspring than Khalid and Jaheira had to those two orphan whelps. But there was still a matter of contention.
"One thing," Finn began. "The thieves have got in in their heads I'm part of some group. They know I stopped by Dynaheir's shop. I'm worried that…"
"We have no cause to fear thieves, my friend," Minsc interrupted. "Let a hundred of them come! They will all fall to our mightiness!"
"Be that as it may… We could house the pair of you, if necessary. If you can keep a low profile?" Jaheira said.
She looked at Minsc and seemed dubious. Dynaheir raised a hand, stifling a reply on the ranger's lips.
"I think, perhaps for now… Thou art most kind. We would accept thy offer."
"If that is what Dynaheir wishes," the man replied, sounding glum. "And Boo says we should help to protect our friends, in case the bad thieves come calling."
"But what about Ione?" Imoen piped up.
"Who cares? She's the reason we're in this mess to start with," Finn reminded her. "Let her deal with it. Let's get out of this place before the Flaming Fist show up, if we're lucky."
Imoen looked like she was going to say something else, but whatever it was she kept it to herself. They moved quickly out of the house, past the slaughter in the parlour, and out into the streets once more.
...
Finn didn't pay much attention to where the Harpers led, keeping his eyes open for any attacks from the shadows. But at last they reached the safe house. It was a modest residence, unremarkable, as they usually were. Khalid led them into the back garden and unlocked the door with the Harper pin he wore on his breast. They hurriedly filed into the kitchen and Jaheira shut the door behind them.
"So how many safe houses do you have in this city?" Finn asked, waiting for Khalid to strike a light.
"Fewer than we used to," Jaheira replied. "This one is quite new. Hopefully the kitchen will be stocked."
A light flashed out of the darkness and the kitchen burst into view. The place was small and rather plain, but judging from the bottles set out on the table Jaheira didn't have much to worry about. The Harpers were good hosts, if nothing else.
"How long must we stay here?" Dynaheir asked. She still wore her veil, and stood back near the door.
"However long you wish. You are not our prisoners. You may leave whenever you choose," Jaheira replied sharply.
"Forgive me, I did not wish to sound ungrateful," the mage said. "But I have just now realised…"
"It's no fun hanging around a safe house," Finn told her. "But it usually means your better off here than anywhere else, unfortunately."
"Hm! I still say we should be out hunting these thieves. Give us a chance, and their foul den would be clear by morning!" Minsc said.
"If only that were true," Jaheira replied. "For tonight though, let us rest. There should be ample rooms up the stairs. What is there to eat, my husband? Silvanus, I have a strange appetite tonight."
The druid slouched down onto one of the kitchen chairs and let out a long groan. Finn wouldn't have minded cracking open one of those bottles, but he thought the better of it. He took a candle and made his way up the stairs, hoping to have a bit of peace and quiet.
...
They were odd, those Harper safe houses. They were set up like a boarding house run by some prim old woman. Everything was comfortable, but only just so. The cushions were a bit stiff, the beds just a bit hard, but everything was neat as could be.
Finn had spent the last couple hours staring at the random assortment of books that were stacked next to his narrow bed. A couple of volumes on the history of Tethyr and some story of a sunken bell in a lake. He didn't read them, just looked at them. He lacked the energy for reading, assuming he had any interest in them in the first place. He wondered who had set them there, and who had read them, while they were hiding from whatever hunted them.
He remembered the last time they were all holed up in a Harper safe house. They were hiding from the Flaming Fist, or was it Sarevok? It wasn't too clear anymore. Mostly Finn just remembered Anna. They slept together for the first time in that house. He shut his eyes and remembered golden braids draped over white skin. He remembered the trembling moment his hands first touched her warmth. Finn took a breath and forced open his eyes, before his memory went too deep.
It all had seemed so helpless, hoping in those days that she loved him. He couldn't remember when he first realised he loved her. Maybe he always had. He knew it from the moment she first looked at him. Not love at first sight, exactly, just knowing. Knowing they had a destiny.
Some destiny in turned out to be. Finn sighed and slapped the bell book back on the table. If he had known… This wasn't some stupid ballad after all, some story of dizzy lads and lasses chasing each other this way and that way. This was life, hard and cold, and he'd fallen flat on his face.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He called out, and wasn't too surprised to see Imoen there.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
"I just said come in," Finn groaned in reply, rubbing his eyes.
"Don't be a grouch," Imoen replied. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. Dynaheir said you were hurt."
"I was hurt. I'm fine now," he said. "Don't worry about it."
"So, do you think we'll really meet this Shadowmaster?" she replied, ignoring his brusqueness and coming to sit in the chair next to his bed.
"Is there a good way to answer that? If Jaheira says so, then we probably will. Maybe we'll get lucky and the Harpers will sweep the whole thing into the dustbin for us."
"You believe that?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
Imoen sighed and they were both silent for a moment.
"Listen," she finally said. "I am sorry I took those jewels. I mean, if I really knew what trouble…"
"Forget about it," he interrupted. "What's done is done. I can understand why you were desperate for some gold. Hardly seems to matter now, anyway."
"I guess it's kind of silly, but… I didn't really do it for the coin. Not really. I just kept thinking about our adventures, you know? I mean, before everything got…horrible. Back in the beginning, when…"
"Got horrible?" Finn interrupted again. "It got horrible the moment Gorion was killed! We never had any adventures before that."
"I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I guess I don't say what I mean very well," Imoen tried to apologise. "You're right, it's always been awful. But didn't you ever think, just for a minute, hey, I'm free now? We were explorers, we were adventurers. The whole world was open to us. Just for a little while…it was good."
She sighed wistfully and Finn looked at her.
"Honestly, no. I was mainly thinking about when the next hunter was going to turn up."
The girl looked up at him, her cheeks turning the shade of her hair.
"You're right. It's stupid, I know. We were always fighting for our lives. But I… I never had anything to look forward to, before that. I was just going to tend the inn forever. And innkeepers don't often get recorded by history. But all of a sudden I felt like I could actually be. Somebody. And it was a good feeling."
"You don't think you're somebody?" Finn asked.
"I don't know. Not like you, I guess."
"And what's that mean?"
"Well, you're… A Child. You've got powers. Whatever you do, you aren't ordinary."
Finn stared at her. If that was meant to be a compliment, he wasn't sure how to take it.
"Imoen, believe me…I'd give any gold in the world to just go back to Candlekeep and spend one day being ordinary. This is not something that anyone would want!"
"Maybe not that, but you always used to talk. You would talk about going out into the world and being a mercenary, or a soldier, or… Didn't you once tell me you were going to walk from Neverwinter to Calimport, just to see what was there? I told you you'd need a few spare pairs of boots in your pack, remember?"
"Aye," Finn said, sitting up. "And I also remember how cross you'd get every time I forgot to wipe my boots before I went tramping round your precious carpets. You'd give me a telling off worse than Winthrop! You treated that inn like it was your baby. You never acted like you were desperate for adventures."
"That's because I never thought I could have any! But I dreamed, the same as you. And if you ever had to scrub muddy footprints out of a fine Calim rug, you'd know why I got so cross."
She looked at him and Finn had to laugh. How ridiculous their old lives seemed now.
"But getting back to the jewels… There was one reason why I wanted coin," Imoen said.
"What's that?"
"Because I… When spring came, I was going to take passage on a ship."
"You were? Where to?" Finn asked.
He was genuinely surprised, and even a little alarmed. Imoen had never mentioned leaving before.
"I'm not sure. Maybe north, or south. Maybe even west, to the islands. But I was going."
"But why?" he asked again.
"Oh, Finn… Are you surprised?" Imoen exclaimed. "You don't need me. You're married now, you've got your own life. I can't just keep hanging about while you do…whatever. I want to travel, I want to find my life. I want to see what's waiting for me. Don't worry, I'd write every day."
She let out a giggle, possibly surprised at the look of concern on her brother's face.
"Well, I guess if that's what you want to do, I wouldn't stop you," he said.
"You couldn't stop me. I'll be eighteen by then, free by the right of the law!" she laughed.
"You going to stay free of the law?" Finn joked in return. "Fine chance of that happening!"
He laughed as well, but his throat choked a little. As much as she'd been a pain in his side, he could never imagine Imoen leaving. She had always been there.
"Well, don't get teary-eyed just yet. I'm not going anywhere soon," she sighed, and her mood become more sombre.
"Well. We'll fix it, somehow. We've gotten through everything else," Finn said. "Although if we're being serious, I've got a question as well."
"What is it?" Imoen asked.
"When are you going to do something about your hair?"
"What? Oh, Finn!" she cried, her hands drifting to her short pink locks.
"Sorry, Im…but it's pink as a petunia!"
Finn laughed, trying to hide the fact that his comment was serious. But Imoen just tossed her head and glared at him.
"Well, I happen to like it. It's different, you know? And I like not having to spend an hour each day brushing and braiding my hair!"
"So you're just being lazy, then," he remarked.
"Lazy, me? So says the man who can't change his socks but once a tenday!"
"Hey, you know I've got a three-day sock rule…"
He was interrupted though as Imoen blew a loud raspberry and held on to her nose. Finn grabbed the cushion off his bed and sent it flying in her direction, but Imoen snatched it and sent the missile back with equal force. She shrieked with laughter and tried to dodge as Finn sent it back again, but they both fell quiet at the sound of a loud knock on the door.
...
"Children, if you please!" Jaheira's voice came through the frame. "You are needed downstairs."
"All right…ow! No fair!" Finn howled as Imoen took advantage of his distraction to batter him over the head with his own cushion. Finn ruffled Imoen's pink locks and hurried out the door before she could do more than squeal in indignation.
They both scrambled down the stairs, but paused at the rather sober looking group that was assembled in the sitting room.
"What's up?" Finn asked.
"I am afraid we will not likely be meeting with the Shadowmaster anytime soon," Jaheira told him.
"Why?" Imoen said.
"I w-went to s-speak with our c-contact while you w-were resting," Khalid began. "The Shadow Thieves in the c-city are riled as a h-hornet's nest, and w-will not speak t-to anyone."
"Over the death of one arms dealer?" Finn remarked. "He must have really been important."
"N-not only that," Khalid said. "It s-seems the Shadowmaster of B-Baldur's Gate died wh-while at a festhall this very day."
"Keeled over at the gaming tables," Jaheira joined in. "Poisoned."
There was silence in the room. Finn's mouth opened but nothing came out.
"At least they do not have you to blame this time," Jaheira continued, looking at him. "Not surprisingly the Shadowmaster took great pains to avoid this sort of unfortunate incident, but someone managed to take him out, and in full public view. Add to that the death of Trevalan and the thieves in this city are understandably on edge."
"You think Ione Valesa was involved?" Finn managed to say.
"It is possible," Jaheira sighed. "Or it may be nothing more than a coincidence both men met their deaths within a day of each other. The Shadowmaster doubtless had enemies. But all the same…"
"It stinks. I know," he replied.
"But what do we do now?" Imoen asked.
"Trying to engage the thieves in conversation at this time would be a fool's errand," Jaheira said. "Even moreso than before. I doubt they would listen to anything we had to say. We may simply have to wait. Wait and see if any other suspects present themselves."
"Or we could go looking for Valesa," Finn said. "If she is involved…"
"Look, yes! Boo says anything is better than waiting," Minsc remarked.
"Perhaps… Perhaps Jaheira doth speak the wisest," Dynaheir said slowly. She had removed her veil at last, but stood off in the shadows of the room. "Seeing the state of her home, it seems most unlikely Valesa would return there, and we know not where else in the city she may'st hide. If the thieves dost look for Finn…hunting would be most dangerous."
"But what about you?" Finn said, turning to her. "I gather you know something about her. Where she might be found, and all. You certainly would have a better idea than the rest of us."
"Is this true, Dynaheir?" Jaheira asked. "You know this woman?"
"I do not," the mage replied, sounding defensive. "I have never seen her face. And I know not where she might be found. On my mother's heart, I do swear that to thee. I know only of her interest in certain tomes of knowledge."
"It is somewhere to begin, at least. She might be traced through a contact," Jaheira mused.
"But she is dangerous…" Dynaheir began.
"And how do you know that?" Finn said, stepping forward. "People who sit around reading books all day aren't usually the dangerous type, in my experience. If you know something, say it."
"I know nothing," Dynaheir said. "And your constant hinting that I telleth a lie grows most tiresome. I will not tolerate blows against my honour!"
"Nor will I," Minsc rejoined. "Dynaheir never tells a lie! She is an honourable witch! No one can question her!"
The grumbling mountain of a ranger stepped towards Finn, but Jaheira held up her hands.
"Enough! We will have no duels here. If Dynaheir says she does not know where Valesa can be found, then we have little choice but to take her word. But tomorrow we will begin to canvas the booksellers in this city. One may well know where to find her. It is the most we can do now."
"Or, maybe… Dynaheir could still help us out."
Imoen spoke rather strangely, and all eyes turned to her.
"What dost thou intend, child?" Dynaheir snapped. "As I have said, I know not where the woman is."
"Maybe not, but you managed to track me pretty neatly with that spell of yours. Is there any reason it wouldn't work on Valesa?"
Dynaheir looked startled, but she shook her head.
"No. That was different. Something of mine was stolen, and my spell did seeketh the thief."
"But I've studied magic. I know how those spells work," Imoen continued. "You can track a thief, by binding an object to its owner. You could do it with Valesa, too!"
"But I have nothing of hers, child. And I will not set foot in that cursed house again…"
"You don't have to, though," Imoen said. "Here."
She reached into her pouch, and drew out a lady's hair comb. It was of creamy white ivory, carved with intricate designs that reflected in the firelight.
"I…found this on a dressing table in her house. You could use it to cast the spell."
"Do you pick up everything shiny, Imoen?" Finn remarked. "I'm going to have to start calling you Magpie."
"But, that may not even be hers," Dynaheir protested. "Finn did say that house was not truly her own…"
"It is, though. I'm sure I've seen her wearing that," he said.
"He's right," Imoen replied. "I thought it looked so pretty. And I reckoned she owed me one for…everything."
"We will have a word about your light fingers another time," Jaheira spoke. "But for tonight, at least, you have done us a favour. Can you use this to cast the spell, Dynaheir?"
The mage was on the spot. She opened her mouth as if to argue further, but there was no objection she could raise. Slowly she nodded her head.
"I can. But I must prepare…I must retreat and meditate."
"Very well," Jaheira sighed. "I suppose we could all use some rest. We will seek Valesa tomorrow."
Imoen gave Dynaheir the comb. She took it not in her hands, but wrapped the object in a kerchief instead. Dynaheir lifted up her long mage robe and went back up the stairs without a word to anyone.
...
By then it was late. Imoen said goodnight, and Khalid and Jaheira retreated to their own little chamber. Minsc for his part insisted on keeping watch downstairs, in case any thieves might try to come down the chimney. Finn tried telling him the Harper house would be warded up to the nines, but it was little use. He left the big man to his guard and went upstairs himself.
But Finn wasn't going to bed, not yet anyway. He knocked quietly on a door at the end of the hall, waiting for Dynaheir to respond.
"Who knocks?" she asked from inside.
"It's me. I want a word."
"Finn…must you keep hounding me? I must memorise this spell!" she declared.
"You'd have a job of it without your spell book," he said quietly. "I know you haven't got it with you. Now let me in."
He knew he was prodding the Wychlaran a little hard, but he figured her honour wouldn't stand being caught out in a fib. The door opened, and Dynaheir glared out at him.
"I have nothing more to say to you tonight. Leave me be," she commanded.
"The Mists of Mir. Interesting book, that," he said, languidly. "Did you get to the part about the Temple of Bhaal hidden in a swamp? Sacrifices, and all that. Pretty gruesome reading."
Dynaheir almost looked turned to stone for a moment, but she quickly recovered.
"I did not read that far," she said, looking down.
"No? Well, in case you get another chance… Don't worry. Those two kids made it out alive."
"But they were…" she began, then stopped quickly, realising she'd been caught out.
"I thought the Wychlaran weren't supposed to tell lies," Finn remarked.
She looked at him, and Finn thought for certain he was about to be turned into dust. But Dynaheir mustered every last ounce of dignity she had, and spoke through clenched teeth.
"What do thy desire?" she asked.
"Just the truth," he replied. "Why are you hiding up here? You aren't memorising spells. Can you cast this thing or not?"
"I said I could, and I shall," Dynaheir said. "But I just needed to…think."
"About what?"
"Dost thou now demand to know my private thoughts?" she cried. "Leave me, or I shall summon Minsc."
"Really?" Finn said. "I'm hardly trying to force my way into your bed. But you know more than you're telling, and that's obvious. I've got a…vested interest here. Now tell me."
"Very well, if nothing else will satisfy you," she said. "Come in to my chamber, that we might not disturb the others. But leave the door open."
Finn did as bidden. He came inside, staying well to the corner as he nearly tripped over a circle of small stones that were laid out on the floor in the narrow room. Dynaheir apologised.
"Stones from my homeland," she said. "Taken from the shores of the sacred lakes, Ashane and Mulsantir. From the crest of the Sunrise Mountains and the endless plains of the north. From the borders of Rashemen I gathered them, so that I may always be bound within the motherland."
"That's nice," Finn said. "But I really want to know about Valesa. Tell me what you know of her."
"You are obsessed with this elf-woman," Dynaheir sighed, hastily placing the stones into a leather bag. "But there is little I have not shared. I know little of her. Only what I have heard."
"And what have you heard?"
"She appeared in this city not more than two months ago," Dynaheir began. "After the great shaking of the earth. None knows from whence she came. She was secretive, preferring to write letters rather than visit the shops. But she sought out books like a she-wolf seeking her prey. She would pay outrageous amounts of coin for volumes she desired. And some say… There was a private collector, a man with a remarkable library. He refused Valesa's offers of coin, no matter how high her price. And he died. Somehow he took too much of the digitalis he did take for his heart. Within three days his widow sold Valesa the books she so coveted."
"You think Valesa had him killed?"
"Nought could be proven against her. The Flaming Fist visited her home…but they returned in fear. Fear of what, they could not say. She wears the mantle of a charming woman, but there is a demon in her heart. None dare to refuse her."
"And what sort of books did she collect, exactly?"
Dynaheir hesitated again. "She…had an interest in topics most various."
"Such as…?" Finn said, impatient.
"She had a remarkable interest in the matters of the gods," she replied.
"Religious, is she?"
"I cannot say. But for now, I wish to retire to bed. This has been a long day for us all, and I cannot think but tomorrow will be longer still. Good night, Finn."
Her dismissal was plain. Finn groaned; there was still much she hadn't said. Like why she and Valesa had common interests in the first place. But he was tired too, and didn't see the point of dragging it out that night. He turned and went to his room, without another word to Dynaheir.
