Author's Note: It's been awhile since I've updated this story and I apologize, Dear Reader. I'm trying to finish off The Knight and the Warlock, but I didn't want to totally neglect this tale. Unfortunately this chapter ended up deviating quite a bit from my NaNo draft and that has slowed me down. I am rather pleased with the changes though.

Chapter 14…A Chat with the Marshal

At this hour, it seemed likely that Cormick would be home in his lodgings and if he wasn't—well, she'd just have to leave him a message. He was now working out of the Watch headquarters in the Merchant's Quarter and there was no way Carona was going to meet him there, no matter how much Duncan prodded her.

The house where Galen and Cormick roomed was, as she had suspected, one of the big old mansions built by some rich merchant—a ship owner perhaps, who wanted a home conveniently close to the docks. Now, of course, most merchants worth their salt wanted to live within spitting distance of Blacklake. Once this neighborhood had become unfashionable, it wasn't long before it started its slide into decay. This particular house, however, continued to be well-maintained, with neatly trimmed shrubs and a pretty little pleasure garden in the back. There was a porter at the door as well, who had the look of an old sailor about him. Yes, the marshal was in, he told her, knocking the dottle out of his pipe. He eyed her up and down then gave her a toothless grin.

"Up the stairs, last door on the right, knock before you go in and make sure to wipe your boots on that there mat, missy. I just swabbed out the hall this afternoon."

Carona had begun to wonder if the porter wasn't mistaken, she had to wait so long for her knock to be answered. But finally Cormick opened the door, in his shirt sleeves despite the chill. For a moment he just stared as if he'd never seen her before.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked breezily. "I heard you were looking for me."

"Oh, did you?" he asked, giving her the eye. No doubt he intimidated hardened criminals on a daily basis but this look was nothing new to her. Her own conscience was far from clear but then it never was. She gave him a wide-eyed look in return. He shook his head a little in mild exasperation. "Come on in."

"I brought you something," she said, opening her string bag. She handed him the bottle. "It's mead that I swiped from Duncan's cellar. Note that I'm confessing to a crime." He snorted.

"Guess I'd better examine the evidence." She followed him into the sitting room, which was more spacious than she had expected. The room had high ceilings, white-washed to make the room seem even larger. The walls had been paneled in a light colored wood and the furniture looked comfortably inviting. With the shutters closed tight and a fire burning in the fireplace, the room was bright and cheerful. Cormick fetched two mugs from a cabinet by the door and worked the cork out of the bottle.

"Where's Galen?" she asked, as she took the mug he offered. She curled up on the sofa by the fireplace. After a slight hesitation, he joined her.

"Out visiting an old friend. They'll talk half the night, no doubt, and then he'll stay over. They're probably both drunk by now and besides, it's not safe to walk the streets at night anymore, drunk or sober." He spoke lightly but some undercurrent in his voice made her wonder if all was well between the two of them. But that wasn't her problem.

"Never a Watchman around when you need one," she said pleasantly. Cormick gave her a hard look. "You wanted to see me about something?"

"I thought perhaps you would be interested in what I've learned about this shard of yours and about the Shadow Priest we killed in Highcliff. But I suppose you have been far too busy with your own pursuits to worry about such trivial matters."

"But…Blacklake is closed," she said, and even as she spoke the words, she could see by his expression that she had been a fool. "Oh, gods," she said. "It's not closed to the Marshal of the Watch, is it?" Cormick smiled a little at her stunned expression.

"I delivered the spell book to the Cloaktower and I also spoke to the sage Aldanon, describing the shard you showed me and asking if he had any knowledge of it." He smiled again and took a slow sip of his mead. He settled back on the couch, stretched his legs towards the fire and let the silence drag out.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"He was very excited," Cormick said. "So excited, in fact, that I could barely understand what he was trying to tell me. It was far too much for a dumb old Watch hound to grasp." He stared up at the ceiling as if he saw something fascinating written there. His lips curved in the smallest of smiles.

"Cormick!" Carona jabbed him with her elbow.

"He has a similar shard."

"You jest!"

"Nope. He showed it to me. Looked like enough to me, but then any chunk of silver would look the same I suppose. He said it was magic though. Well, actually he said a lot more than that, but that was what I got out of it."

"Where did he get the shard?"

Cormick frowned.

"Someone brought it to him but he couldn't recall the man's name. Aldanon is rather…absent minded, I guess you'd say."

"It seems such an odd coincidence. Too odd to really be a coincidence at all, don't you think?" Cormick nodded.

"I've seen stranger coincidences but yes, I agree that the timing is suspicious. I asked Aldanon to send me a message if the man returns for his shard and I asked the Blacklake Watch to keep a closer eye on the house. Just in case. At any rate, Aldanon is running tests and doing research on the shard now and he is extremely interested in seeing yours. He feels that he might learn more if he had the two to compare. I will take it to him, if you like."

"No," was her immediate response. Cormick raised his brows at her sharp tone. "I…don't think that will be wise," she said more mildly. "Daeghun thinks there may be a tracking spell of some sort on the shard and if he's right—well, we would risk bringing the bladelings down on the sage." Of course, she had Duncan's shard as well, and there was no particular reason to believe the bladelings were tracking it. Still, the thought of letting either shard out of her control made her squirm.

"So you'd rather risk bringing bladelings down on yourself? You should let the Watch handle this, Carona. Perhaps the Cloaktower can do something…"

"I'll think about it."

"I don't understand you," he said. "Surely you'd like to rid yourself of this problem. The Watch has resources you don't and if this shard is somehow connected to the attacks in the Mere...well, it is important that we find some answers."

Carona wondered if she was being unreasonable. She suspected she was. If giving up the shards would get the bladelings off her back, surely that would be a good thing. Yet what if they continued to chase her? Without the shards, she would have nothing to bargain with and besides…she didn't want to give them up. It felt good to hold them. It felt right. She didn't want to give them away; particularly not to some absent-minded sage she had never even met. Besides, once out of her hands, it seemed unlikely that the Watch would ever return them.

"Get me into Blacklake then and maybe we will all find some answers."

Cormick studied her face a long moment. The humor had left his face, leaving his eyes serious and searching.

"You know I can't do that," he finally said. They sat quietly and drank the mead.

"Surely Blacklake will be opened soon," she said, fishing for information.

"I have no idea." She thought he would say more but he gave her a sideways look and then moved to refill their mugs instead.

"What about the spell book?" she asked with less enthusiasm. "Did the mages learn anything?"

"They didn't have much to say, not yet, anyway. One thing they did say, you might find interesting. Highcliff Castle was destroyed in an attack by the King of Shadows some twenty years ago. There is residual power in the ruins from that attack, and the necromancer had found a way to tap into that power. There are similar 'hot spots', they called them, near Fort Locke and West Harbor and elsewhere in the Mere. I believe several of the Cloaktower Mages are heading down the coast road to see if they can learn anything more."

"I really appreciate you finding this out for me." Cormick gave her one of his flat looks.

"I didn't do it for you, exactly."

"Oh, of course. I forgot. Everything you do is for the greater good of all. You're not stupid and selfish like the rest of us." She had meant to speak in a teasing tone but somehow the words came out harsh.

"I didn't say that. I've never said that." His expression didn't change much except for his eyes. "I don't like hearing Lorne's words in your mouth."

"Sorry."

Cormick gave her another of his sideways looks. Carona felt her heart sink a little before he even opened his mouth.

"Carona, you're not stupid. You're very talented, in fact. I don't understand…why don't you do something with your life?"

"I am doing something with my life."

"I meant something worthwhile. This business with the Night Wings is all well and good, I suppose, but surely…"

"Drop it, Cormick."

He gave her a frustrated look.

"You could do so much more."

"I said drop it." Carona set down her mug and started to rise. He took her hand and pulled her back down on the couch.

"There are other things we should speak of," he said. "I gave you some advice a few days ago but I do not see that you have taken it."

"People are always giving me advice. I'm not sure why."

"This is no jest, Carona. I will tell you plain: step away from the Thieves or you will regret it."

"Is that a threat?" He gave her a warning shake of the head.

"You're mixed up with the wrong people, Carona. They are up to more than petty thievery and tricks. There are murderers amongst them. I hear rumors of a cult of Mask in our city and…" He stopped and grabbed both her hands. "Don't roll your eyes at me, for pity's sake. I'm serious. I don't want to see you throw your life away. We've lost Lorne—I don't want to lose you too."

He was still holding her hands and when she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. His eyes were concerned, almost as if he cared anything about what happened to her. She wondered how he would feel if he knew some of the things she had done in the past and especially more recently. And suddenly her long repressed anger flared up.

Carona snatched her hands away.

"Damn you for a hypocrite, Cormick. Lorne would have never joined the Greycloaks if you hadn't thrown him out of the Watch. You know that as well as I do. He didn't throw his life away—you did."

Cormick had turned as pale as his ruddy complexion would allow.

"He gave me no choice."

"Oh, you had a choice all right. And you made it."

"It was not so simple."

"Yeah, sure. You keep telling yourself that, hound."

"A man died, Carona. Was I supposed to pretend that nothing happened?" Carona hunched her shoulders.

"It was an accident," she finally said. "You could have let it slide."

"Lorne was in the wrong. He had been abusing his position for some time. There had been complaints and…" He sighed and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. "I let a lot of things slide because I…because of our friendship. Maybe that was a mistake."

Carona let out a scornful 'hah' of breath.

"He was under my command, Carona! I guess he thought he could do whatever he pleased and I would lie and cover for him. And I did, for a while, hells take me. But he went too far."

"Lorne didn't mean to kill that man."

"Maybe not but it never would have happened if he had been doing his job. He had no business drinking in a bar while on duty in the first place and…"

"I don't mean to shock you but lots of Watch hounds drink on duty," Carona said dryly.

"He hadn't just stopped in for a quick drink to get out of the cold. He'd been there all shift long, Carona, drinking heavily and the barkeep said he'd been belligerent to other customers. Lorne was drunk, and he killed a man. And by all accounts, that fight was not unprovoked." Cormick's voice was stern and angry. "If he had been brought up on charges, he might have swung for it. He got off easy. All I asked of him was to turn in his cloak."

"He got off easy? We were at war. Joining the Greycloaks was a death sentence and you knew it."

"It was his choice—to defend the city. Maybe he was trying to…atone. I don't know. At least he got the chance to die with honor. That's more than the man he killed got."

"Gods. You and your honor. Do you really believe Lorne was trying to 'atone' for anything? He was pissed, Cormick, and he joined the Greycloaks to spite you and show you up, and that's all. And he wanted to impress you with his spiffy uniform. Trust me—he hadn't the slightest desire to seek out an honorable death on the battlefield." That Cormick could still be so naïve after all these years was astonishing to Carona. "Lorne never thought he'd die. He thought the gods favored him. He fully believed he would be promoted within a ten-day of service and was no doubt looking ahead to being invited into the Neverwinter Nine and lording it over us both."

"Do you really believe that?" Carona gave a bitter laugh.

"Oh, yeah. You didn't know him very well, did you?"

"I…doubt that I did," he said heavily. There was regret and unhappiness on his face and weariness as well. For some reason that made Carona even angrier. She stood and stared down at him.

"Well, let me tell you something, Cormick. You don't know me very well either. Because you have been sitting there looking at me like you think I can change. It's too late, Cormick. It was too late for Lorne and it's too late for me. Do you think I can step away from my life and start doing my duty, whatever the hells that is?"

"That is exactly what I think."

"Then you are a fool."