Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

Honour among thieves

Fritha gazed up at the building before her, an impenetrable fortress of red brick and neatly painted woodwork in the gloom of the alleyway, the woman next to her leaning against her staff and eyeing the solid wooden door and its heavy iron lock with the air of one who was expecting something of a miracle.

The bookshop had been easy enough to find, situated on the northern side of the plaza on the raised terrace where all the shop fronts were lined, a lofty perch above the square that was so often filled with traffic and stalls, the fountains echoing eerily in the nocturnal lull while the Promenade to the east loomed over all. Though there had not been the place to make their entrance, the four slipping into the dark sloping alleyway that ran between the bookshop and the haberdashery next door to find themselves at the side entrance, the men sent to stand in the narrow lane that ran along the back, on lookout for any Watch patrols -Fritha did not want to begin the morrow being bailed out of a jail cell by Aerie.

'So,' came Jaheira eventually, 'how do you actually plan to get inside? Your magic?'

Fritha shook her head. 'No, a place like this will likely be warded. No, we shall have to do this the old fashioned way.'

The druid looked marginally impressed. 'You'll pick the lock?'

Fritha drew back with a theatrical shock.

'Really, Jaheira, what do I look like, a common thief? No, I shall climb in through a window. There, that one looks likely,' she continued, still grinning as she pointed to a small sash window about halfway up the building and a few feet right of the door, a convenient drainpipe running up the wall next to it.

And that was Jaheira's cue to turn away, unwilling to watch as the girl scaled the drain, one foot already cramping on the sill, the other wedged against the piping she had just climbed and Fritha teetering in between, both hands needed at the handle of her knife as she eased the blade beneath the frame and slowly worked the window open. A moment of stomach-lurching faith as she pushed off against the drainpipe and whipped two hands inside the frame to pull herself forward and at last she was in, dropping lightly onto the stairs just below her and tripping down them to open the door set beneath, the key hung conveniently on a nail next to it.

'Couldn't have picked it any way,' Fritha explained to the women who was waiting on the other side, 'it had bolts drawn across both top and bottom.'

The shop about them was panelled in contrasts of light and darkness, the blinding glow from the street lamps on the terrace outside streaming in through the two large windows at the shop front to highlight every table and counter or striking the taller bookcases to throw deep shadows back into the room. The pair parted ways, each taking a different route about the stands and bookcases as they searched for any evidence of the shop's newest purchases and holding a whispered conversation as they went.

'Ooo, they've a copy of Runtenwynd's Miscellany,' Fritha hissed, gently taking the worn and rather dusty volume from the shelf next to her and letting it fall open where it pleased, 'I haven't seen one of these since Candlekeep.'

A sneeze sounded from the bookcases somewhere to her left, a disgruntled voice muttering, 'Yes, it's seems there are many things this place has in common with the archives.'

Fritha replaced the book and moved on to a table in the central aisle displaying a pleasing arrangement of quills and coloured inks.

'Well, Aerie said the owner was getting on in years, perhaps he can't manage the cleaning on his own anymore.'

'A reasonable enough supposition…' the woman conceded, her tone taking on the deliberately casual air that never failed to give Fritha that sinking feeling as Jaheira continued, 'So, you and Anomen seem to be on better terms of late –you have been inseparable these last few days.'

'Inseparable?' Fritha repeated as shrilly as she dared, the ink bottle she held nearly tumbling from her hands, 'Hardly. I just thought he would like someone to keep him company. It can get so dull sat in your room alone.'

'Ah ha,' came Jaheira softly, Fritha glancing back to see her straightening from behind the counter, a small book in her hands, 'the purchase and receipt log. No mention of any deliveries from our apothecary, but it does record three different names over the last few months' ledgers: Ignatio-'

'The owner,' supplied Fritha unnecessarily.

'And two others, Stefan and Rowid- they must be his shophands.'

'Well, they're definitely not pulling their weight,' muttered Fritha, tracing a finger along the dusty shelf next to her, 'But in any case, there's nothing out here, so they're not selling the ingredients openly, if they are at all. Shall we try the back?'

The druid nodded her agreement, Fritha joining the woman on the other side of the counter as they moved through the doorway set behind it into the back of the shop. It was not the cramped storeroom Fritha had been expecting though, just a narrow windowless space that seemed to serve as their break room. Jaheira called her werelight to reveal a collection of packing chests in one corner that looked as though they were serving as both table and chairs, a battered old kettle and a few chipped mugs set upon the largest while in the corner opposite were leant a broom, mop and bucket that did not look like they had been moved in a while from the small colony of spiders who had strung a vast city of webs between the two handles.

Fritha cast about her with a disappointed sigh. 'Oh, this is not quite the packed stockroom I was expecting.'

'There,' said Jaheira, marching to the other end of the room, the dull metal ring of a trapdoor catching in the glow of her werelight. She stooped, a hand outstretched to lift it when she faltered, glancing from the large red glyph that had been painted upon the door to send the girl a wary look, but Fritha just grinned, kneeling to heave the hatch wide, the thick rungs of a heavy wooden ladder stretching down into the darkness before them.

'It's all right, just a rune to keep the air dry and protect the books from the damp -they used to be every hundred yards in the archives. Ah, this is more like it,' Fritha trilled, calling up her own light as she stepped down from the final rung into the basement, the low-ceilinged room half the length of the shop above and set with row upon row of bookcases, half unpacked chests of books strewn here and there in the aisles, Fritha gazing about her beaming widely. 'Ah, this brings back memories.'

'Not wanting to mar your reminiscences but-' came the druid behind her, Fritha turning in time to see her stern look and the pair set off down the first aisle, Jaheira seemingly more than happy to return to their previous discussion as they continued their search.

'Well, I think it commendable that you would put aside your previous reluctance to keep Anomen company, though I must admit it surprised me -a mere few days before I imagine you'd have done anything to avoid time alone with the man.'

Fritha felt her stomach lurch, biting back a rather sharp comment about people speaking plainly if they had something say.

'Well, things are different now. We spoke about… matters; Anomen agreed to stop pressing his suit and he has.'

'Yes, he has,' said Jaheira mildly, the look she sent her anything but.

Fritha flushed. 'And what's that supposed to mean?'

But their argument would have to wait, it seemed.

'Here,' the druid cut in, her werelight falling on the end of the aisle and the bookcase there that seemed to be set at a slightly different angle to the others. Something Fritha would have just put down to a trick of the light until they drew closer, the flickering glow of their werelights streaming through the narrow gap to open out the cramped room beyond, boxes and sacks all stacked neatly within, a large net bag of small glass jars glimmering in the light and Fritha recognised the vivid orange soup of salamander eyes.

'I think we've found our apothecary's supplies,' murmured Fritha.

Jaheira nodded, though a bang somewhere in the room above forestalled her reply, Fritha holding her breath as footsteps pounded the boards above them.

'Gods,' sighed a voice, young, masculine and cultured, 'I am glad this is the last load –Stefan, you left the trapdoor open again!'

Their werelights were out in an instant, Fritha's heart racing as they stumbled back along the aisle in the sudden darkness to find a hiding place crouched behind some crates in the next row along, while upstairs another voice answered the first, his tone more informal even if his accent was not.

'Did I? Oh, what does it matter?'

'And I suppose you left the bookcase open too?'

'So what if I did?' Stefan sighed, 'It's not as though old Ignatio goes down there even in working hours. Gods, Rowid, you fret like my old nurse.'

Rowid grumbled something inaudible that his companion either did not hear or did not heed, Stefan continuing blithely, 'I'm just glad Deril's orders aren't usually this large. Three trips across the city and his estate is the furthest of all of them -and I've still got that experiment for Master Xavin to write up.'

'Haven't you finished that yet?'

'No… I don't suppose you'll let me have a look at yours?'

'No!'

And Stefan's laughter rang out above them as that first pair of feet appeared on the ladder.

xxx

Anomen shifted slightly, the cold stone of the wall he was leaning against seeping through to his back. He had removed his armour as soon as he had entered his room, exchanging it for his blue woollen coat and cloak, his suspicions proved correct that he would soon be heading out again.

Somewhere, the distant rattle of a cart echoed along the silent street and the erratic path of a bat dipped and swerved overhead, the icy breeze stirring his hair and he pulled his cloak about him more tightly, acutely aware of eye of Helm embroidered inside his coat to rest just above his heart. How mildly he stood there, aiding others in acts he would have once argued so stridently against. That day had already seen him on the wrong side of the law once, acting as a distraction for Fritha's theft and though he did not blame her, it worried him all the same, the way she only had to threaten to dance off into some peril of her own making and he would abandoned all his principles to accompany her in it.

He knew he could not turn her from her path once decided upon, and voicing complaint when he planned to join her seemed just as pointless –so should he just refuse to accompany her? She said often enough she did not need his help, but to know she was committing such acts and doing nothing to prevent her seemed as bad, if not worse than joining her in them –at least then he could heed his duty and protect the girl as he had sworn. Anomen sighed, wondering if these worries should be shared with another, the Prelate or High Watcher Oisig perhaps; if he was straying from his path he would like to know of it before it was too late to find his way back again. And as though he had spoken his thoughts aloud, the man next to him stirred.

'So, does many an evening find you stood as lookout while others of your company so neatly sidestep the laws of this city?'

Valygar was not smiling, not even looking at him, his eyes scanning along the empty street. Anomen felt his jaw tighten.

'No, this has been the first -Fritha would not inform me on previous occasions.'

'You would not have obliged her?'

'Not without complaint.'

Valygar snorted his dry amusement. 'And now?'

Anomen sighed, his reasons a poor excuse however ardently he believed in them.

'Fritha will follow her own path whatever I say. At least if I am here I can protect her from the consequences.'

Valygar raised an eyebrow, harking back to the knight's previous conviction as he quipped, 'A strange attitude for a Helmite –I did not realise your god was the embodiment of thieves and house breakers.'

'No, but He tells us to protect the weak and I have a duty to her.'

'Weak?' repeated Valygar and the knight could see that of all the words he would have used to describe Fritha, that had never been one of them. Anomen turned from him; he knew what he meant.

'She is our leader, she wishes to help all she can and it is this desire more often than not leads her to danger. I have no need of your judgement on this matter,' he continued brusquely, tired of the knotted feeling in his stomach every time he considered it. 'I am aware of my failings and will speak to one of my own faith concerning them.'

He turned away, his eyes drawn back to the alley where he had last left the women, though Valygar was not discouraged by his sharpness, his tone somehow more friendly as he offered, 'It is easy for others to judge the path you walk, but you believe it to be right at the time and that should be enough for any man.'

Anomen shook his head. 'Well, it is not enough for me; I must strive to be better than I am, lest I continue to repeat the mistakes of the past.'

'The past is done,' said Valygar bluntly.

'Such an attitude often leads to it being repeated.'

The ranger shot him a dark frown, when suddenly he was laughing quietly to himself. 'You are correct, knight, but doubt is a poison too; how can one walk on when they begin to question every step that led them there?'

'You are worried for your path?' Anomen exclaimed, unable to temper his incredulity, the ranger until then a stoic pillar of unwavering ideals, however different they were from his own, Valygar still smiling even as he sighed.

'These last few days spent reading my mother's diaries, learning firsthand of her slow corruption and yet my doubts still plague me. Lavok was an evil that was remembered in our family for generations after he disappeared, yet when I finally meet him he is not the monster I expected. My mother was not half the terror he was and yet I killed her. Was she as truly lost as I had believed or did my hatred of magic blind me to the goodness still left in her- could she have been redeemed?'

The silence billowed about them, Anomen, as either priest or knight, unable to offer the man anything and in the end he just gave that.

'I cannot say.'

'No,' Valygar nodded grimly, 'neither can I.'

'Oh, don't let us interrupt your little chat!' snapped a shrill voice, the pair glancing up to see Fritha and Jaheira running down the street towards them, the former looking livid. 'By Mask, you two are the worst lookouts!'

Anomen had straightened in an instant. 'My lady-?'

'They were there!' Fritha cried, all frustration, 'they came; the men who've been buying ingredients from the apothecary! They're supplying them to Deril!'

Valygar was frowning. 'That does not make sense. If that is all they are doing, then why doesn't the mage just buy the ingredients directly from the apothecary himself?'

'How should I know?' the girl snapped impatiently. 'We heard them say they had to stop off at their place for something first though and I want to know where that is -did you see a cart pass here?'

Anomen glanced to the man next to him and shook his head. Fritha spat a curse.

'Hells' Teeth! They must have come in from around the front. Come on, we can still catch them!'

She was off, tearing back towards the alley to emerge from the shadows on to the terrace at the other end in time to see the cart disappearing west along the main boulevard, Fritha too cross to even swear.

'They leave this square and we'll never find them -just keep sight of me and follow at a safe distance.'

And she was gone. Anomen had never really been able to appreciate it before but Fritha could truly run when she had a mind to, the girl breaking from the cover of the alley to drop clear from the terrace, and he could hear her footsteps haring across the square beneath.

'Come on,' ordered Jaheira, leading the way as they followed at a jog, reaching the corner to see Fritha at the other end of the boulevard and frantically signalling for them to hurry as she slipped off down a side street.

They must have followed them like that for at least a quarter hour, the cart not turning northwards for the slums, but instead taking a route through the south of the city, clattering down the wide streets past the tall brick houses of the prosperous merchant classes until it finally turned down a narrow back lane. Fritha was halfway down the street by the time they reached the corner, the girl flattened to a tall brick wall and peering through the high wooden gates into someone's backyard, though she glanced back at their footsteps to beckon for their cautious approach.

It seemed all the houses on that street had yards to their rear though none she had passed yet were as large as this one. A stout brick outbuilding was built into the right wall, a large stable along the opposite side and yet still leaving plenty of room for the horse and cart to fit comfortably within, the back of the house set at the end, rising three storeys over it all. A flight of stone steps led up to the back door, the two lowest windows bright with lamplight and throwing a warm yellow glow over the yard beneath, one man already inside while the other was washing his hands in the barrel that had been placed under the open drainpipe to collect rain from the roof above, the horse snorting impatiently as it pawed the cobbles.

'So what do we do?' murmured Valygar, Fritha turning back to find the three gathered behind her.

'Well, we need to get into that house. It's a shame we're not in the slums; it's so much easier when you know the Watch are more likely to take your side.'

'Something to drive them out, then?' offered Jaheira, 'A fire perhaps?'

Anomen swelled. 'I am not adding arson to this evening's crimes!'

'I was merely thinking aloud!'

'I know,' soothed Fritha, physically stepping in between the pair, 'but really Jaheira, their aliases have proved these men are well-read –there could be innocent books in there!'

'As well as any evidence we will need,' Valygar pointed out, earning himself a nod from the girl.

'Quite so. Anyway, they'll likely leave of their own accord soon enough. 'Right,' she continued as the second man finally trudged up the steps to disappear inside as well, 'stay here, I'm going to have a look in that cart while we wait.'

Fritha started forward, breaking from their group to slip through the open gate and skirt along the back wall, heading to the other side of the yard where the shadows were deepest before attempting to get any closer. Her breath was coming in little clouds, the girl crouching down beside the old outbuilding and slowly edging forward, watching dark shapes move across the bright windows and waiting for her chance to make her last dash across the yard.

Any moment now…

The windows cleared and she took that first step from the shadows to suddenly stop as something crunched underfoot. A black shape at the window and she crouched again, half concealed behind the cart, one hand thrust to the ground to steady herself and she just bit back a gasp as it was plunged into a rivulet of icy water, closer inspection revealing a tiny ice-flow of slush being carried with it on its slow course to the yard's central drain. Fritha turned, eyes tracing its silvery path back to her right, the slick trail of some enormous slug that led right up to the peeling door but a pace or so from her and she could see the water dripping down the shallow step. Just an instant to shift her weight and she had dashed back to the shadows of the outbuilding, light fingers testing the door to see if it was to betray her, before she pushed it open with the merest squeak and slipped inside.

It was pitch black and even colder than the yard had been, and for a moment all she could do was stand in the darkness and catch her breath before she gathered herself enough to conjure a small bead of light and it was all she could do to stifle her cry. Stray hands and feet stuck out here and there from the bodies that were packed like fish in the mountains of crushed ice that towered about her, so high they touched the rafters. Fritha pulled her gaze away, her eyes falling instead on the solid old table set against the wall to her right, the body of a blond man of middling years laid upon it, presumably to thaw out before his delivery. Her feet seemed to carry her closer even as her heart willed her away, the only colour to his grey skin, the marks at his neck, a mix of raw grazes and mottled bruising running in thick lines across it.

Strangulation, she concluded grimly.

He was dressed in a simple tunic and jerkin and she was about to finally turn away when the flash of metal caught her eye. The pale copper ring had likely been deemed too worthless to even bother removing, but Fritha took the time, gently slipping it from his deathly cold finger to hold it up to the light, the many-layered cog of Gond carved upon the centre. It was such a small thing -the last remaining link to a life he had long left, the girl wondering absently if he had found his faith rewarded on the other side. Fritha did not know how long she stared at it, only that suddenly a door somewhere outside had banged open and a voice was calling, 'You get the box ready, I'll fetch it out and we can be off.'

An instant to quench her werelight and Fritha was alone in the icy darkness.

Jaheira stood before Anomen, a hand on each arm and pressing him back as he clearly struggled with his own better judgement, the druid furiously shaking her head and trying to indicate to him in everything but words that they could only wait. She knew though that if he decided he wanted to be past her, there really would be nothing she could do, the pair caught together in that deadlock before at last he seemed to wrestle himself into submission, collapsing back against the wall next to them with a pained expression as Valygar continued to watch the second man unloading a long narrow crate from the back of the cart.

Ages seemed to pass, the moments hanging on her like centuries until the outbuilding door banged open once more, the man reappearing -and this time dragging a body in his wake. Jaheira felt the swell of horror begin in the pit of her stomach, shuddering out to infuse every limb, a hand weakly thrown out to grasp Anomen's sleeve though the knight had made no move to advance, the man frozen with a dismay that matched her own, when the lights of the house fell across that limb body and relief flooded her: it was not Fritha.

The two men packed the body inside the crate with practised movements and light banter before heaving it back onto the cart, one climbing up onto the driver's bench while the other moved to walk the horse about and Valygar led them further down the street to duck into a dark ramshackle yard that had no gate to wait for the sound of the rattling hoof beats to fade from the air.

Fritha had quit the outbuilding by the time they had returned, the girl stood in the silent yard, her cloak pulled about her and shivering uncontrollably.

'Fritha, are you hurt?' demanded Jaheira, the woman closing to her side in a few brisk strides. Fritha shook her head.

'I'm fine, just cold.' She gestured back to the building she had just left. 'It's full of ice… and bodies.'

Jaheira muttered an oath under her breath, Valygar already at the door as the druid went join him, Anomen making to follow the pair, though he took a moment to pause at Fritha's side, clamping a firm hand about her shoulder as though to assure himself she was really there before he continued wordlessly after the druid. Fritha watched him disappear into the icehouse, an unpleasant emptiness yawning in the pit of her stomach.

'Fritha?'

She shook herself, heeding Jaheira's summons to enter as well, the men crowded just before the door parting to let her through as she moved to stand at the now bare table with Jaheira.

'There was a body here, a man with grazes and bruising at his throat like he had been strangled with a rope or something similar.'

Jaheira shook her head, turning from the table to take in the mounds of ice which Fritha had been deliberately avoiding.

'So this is how they are getting their bodies so fresh and why no one has seen them in the cemetery -why bother digging someone up when you can just pluck them off the street.'

'The enterprising spirit of Amn strikes again,' muttered Valygar humourlessly.

'I took this ring from the body before they came for him,' Fritha continued, showing the druid the bright copper circle, her palm still baring the curved grooves from where she had clutched it so tightly, lain upon the banked ice on at the back of the room. 'It bears the symbol of Gond. We will have to tell the local temple, see if they are missing any of their parishioners. As for these others…' She waved a vague hand over the scene before them. Jaheira frowned, reaching out to give her shoulders a rousing clap.

'Come, we will see to all in time. We should use this opportunity to search the house uninterrupted.'

Fritha was the first to leave the outbuilding, crossing the empty yard to trip swiftly up the steps, the tingle of magic ready at her fingers for the waiting door though it was not necessary; whether arrogance or mere forgetfulness but they had left it unlocked. It opened on to a long kitchen that looked as though it ran the length of the house, though how anyone cooked in there Fritha did not know. The fire was out, the hearth overflowing with powdery grey ash, the large stone sink stacked with what was likely every piece of crockery the pair possessed, the table set in the room's centre covered with a chaos of empty bottles, candle stubs and a half eaten loaf of bread that looked well past its best.

There was only one door leading from there and Fritha led the way to find the parlour next door was little better, cups of half drunk tea finding a niche on every surface that was not covered by untidy stacks of books and parchment. Two desks seemed to have been moved in from other rooms to be set, one before the heavily curtained window, the other against the back wall, the only other furniture in that cramped room: two large and decidedly threadbare armchairs placed either side of the glowing hearth.

Jaheira moved to the nearest desk, slender fingers sifting through the mess of papers. 'There are some receipts here from the apothecary and, oh-' she lifted the small black bound book she had just unearthed to read from the cover, 'The Necrotitus Amalas; have we heard of that one?'

Fritha and Valygar shared a dark look.

'A highly corrupt volume,' offered the ranger.

'Known best for its details of a spell to turn your enemies inside out,' added Fritha brightly.

'Payment from Deril perhaps?' Anomen considered aloud. And from there the four split up, Fritha and Jaheira staying behind to search through the disorder of the parlour while Valygar and Anomen paired off to look over the rest of the house. The two men returned with little to show for their trip, though they came back to find quite a sizable pile of books, artefacts and other items of dark power being gathered neatly on one desk, though still nothing yet that firmly linked their murderers to Deril.

Outside, the clatter of horse hooves echoed in the yard. Fritha directed Valygar and Jaheira to the shadows either side of the door with but a gesture, Anomen at her back as the girl sunk into the old armchair which faced the kitchen door opposite, the first thing the pair would see upon their entrance; if there was one thing that theatre had taught her it was how to set a scene.

'Ah, it is so good to be back!' a voice in the parlour sighed over the rustle of removing cloaks. 'I'll get the fire going, and- Who in the blazes are you two?' cried the young man before her, Stefan by his voice, his spiked blond hair hardly any longer than his neat little beard, his companion rushing in to discover the cause of this outburst only to halt, dark deeply set eyes surveying both she and Anomen from between two curtains of lank brown hair.

'So, Stefan and Rowid.' Fritha let the slightest of smile curl her lips. 'Or do you prefer Balquit and Meacio?'

One man flushed as the other paled, glancing to each other as the now pink Stefan faltered, 'I- I don't know what you are speaking about.'

'No? Then I imagine those few bodies currently stored in your icehouse will come as rather a shock to you.'

She watched Rowid's throat bob as he swallowed nervously. 'What do you want? Are you here to blackmail us, because we do not have much in the way of coin.'

'No? Supplying the city's necromancers with bodies doesn't pay well?'

'We do not do this for mere gold!' burst out Stefan furiously, 'The constant lectures on caution and pacing -making us working in that damn shop in our spare time!- The Cowled Wizards would keep us as apprentices until our beards have reached our knees and the study of necromancy is not even permitted until you are deemed ready. They say power is earned by the responsible. Look around you; power is seized by those strong enough to take it! We supply ingredients to necromancers about the city in exchange for books, lessons, artefacts –anything to further our studies.'

'Well, I am sure the Gondite you murdered will be glad to know his death was not in vain,' said Fritha coldly, Rowid laying a restraining hand upon his friend's arm as he asked, 'What do you want? We said before we don't have any gold.'

'No,' agreed Fritha, 'but you do have information and as you seem to understand, that is far more precious. Here is my deal: you will turn yourselves in, accusing Deril in the process and I will plead for leniency for you both at your trial –I am sure we could get your sentence reduced from hanging to say, exile to Maztica.'

'Those are your terms?' shouted Stefan, a hysterical smile twisting his features, 'Deril will see us dead before the new moon! No, I will not walk a path that ends in either death or exile,' He glanced to his friend who nodded once, 'We will take our chances here against you.'

Fritha dipped her head in acquiescence, slowly making to rise. 'Fair enough. They say Tymora favours the brave… though I fear She is not with you this evening.'

Valygar and Jaheira step from shadows of doorway.

It was hardly even a fight, Valygar's katana but a flash in the lamplight, Rowid dispatched before he could even raise his defences, Jaheira dodging a bright blast of energy to catch Stefan in the chest with a jab of her staff, sending him staggering back into Anomen, who finished him with but a swing of his mace and the room was quiet once more.

Fritha crouched to frisk both bodies, straightening but a moment later with a signet ring from each and a note detailing what was likely Deril's requirements for his next delivery, though she could not be sure of the hand without further proof.

'Well, it is all still circumstantial, but at least it is something,' sighed Jaheira, Fritha nodding as she tore a scrap of paper from the notebook next to her and scribbled something on to it.

'The address here,' she explained shortly. 'We can swing by the bridge and slip this under the watch post's door. Aegisfield will likely be able to work out what was going on here and those bodies should be given a proper burial.'

They did just that, walking over to the Bridge District, before heading back to the inn, the moon just beginning its descent in the eastern skies and for the first night in a few, Fritha slept without waking once, the dawn finding her feeling better than she had in a while, though the same could not really be said for her accomplices. She ran into Jaheira in the hallway, the woman still yawning into her sleeve as they made their way down to breakfast together, the men at the table little better, dark blue smudges staining the skin under Anomen's eyes while Valygar looked even grumpier than usual, Aerie chattering merrily as she served Cernd and Minsc their first cup of tea.

'Would you like any, Val-? Goodness, Jaheira, you look tired. I was just saying the same to Anomen and Valygar…' Aerie trailed off, blue eyes surveying the three of them with a deeply contemplative frown before finally coming to rest on Fritha. 'In fact, you all look tired.' The elf set down the teapot with a resigned sigh. 'What happened?'

Fritha reached for the pot to serve the rest of them as she explained, 'Valygar, Anomen, Jaheira and I went and broke into that bookshop.'

'All four of you?' Aerie exclaimed and Anomen flushed red, Fritha offering carelessly, 'Well it was just going to be me and Jaheira, but Anomen collared us in the hallway and then Valygar heard us arguing. Look,' Fritha continued, waving all that away with her free hand, the other raising her cup for a welcome mouthful of tea, 'that's really not important right now. When we were there in the bookshop, the two men who had been ordering things from the apothecary turned up and they mentioned deliveries to Deril.'

'Then we can be sure there is a definite link between the apothecary and Deril,' concluded Cernd. Fritha grinned.

'Oh, better than that. We followed them back to their house in the merchants' quarter to find not only a small collection of dangerously powerful magics but also an icehouse full of dead bodies.'

'They are the grave robbers? Balquit and- and that other one?' exclaimed Aerie,' They are supplying Deril with bodies?'

Fritha nodded, somewhat less enthusiastic as she agreed, 'Most assuredly – though not one of them had seen a tomb.'

'Well, if they have been murdering people, then surely we have him!' the elf cried, turning instantly to the druid at her side, ready to see his joy as well, Jaheira taking it upon herself to bring the girl back down to earth.

'Not quite, Aerie. We have no firm evidence that links any of this to Deril.'

'Nothing? What about the two murderers who are supplying him with bodies?'

'They refused to co-cooperate,' said Valygar shortly. A round of grim looks were exchanged across the table -they all knew what that resulted in.

'There, that is what we have,' said Fritha, dumping the contents of her pocket unceremonious into the table's centre, 'a ring from each of them and something of a shopping list that I expect is Deril's -though who can say for sure without a copy of his hand. Everything else in the house incriminated our two grave robbers most implicitly, but Deril has been very careful not to let any of this trace back to him.'

'Ah, it seems young Nalia was right; Boo says there is no justice for men such as these –other than that of the sword,' said Minsc gravely, Valygar nodding his agreement.

'But there must be something we can do?' cried Aerie, half-turned to Anomen though the knight shook his head.

'A scribbled note and some hearsay will not be enough to compel the Magistrates into submitting one of Athkatla's oldest houses to the indignity of an investigation.'

'So this whole thing has got us nowhere.'

Fritha and Jaheira shared the briefest of glances, the druid venturing slowly, 'Perhaps not. There is not enough evidence here to warrant an official investigation, but Deril himself has made it plain he wishes no one to know of his... studies. If we could somehow present our evidence to him and threaten to make the matter public knowledge then…'

'You mean blackmail him into giving over the child?' cried Anomen, not the only shocked face about that table. Fritha held up her hands, forestalling any further outrage.

'We may never have enough evidence for the Magistrates to open an investigation. And even if they do they may not find Deril guilty; the practise of necromancy is not a crime.'

'He was having people murdered!' shouted Valygar.

'Actually, I believe he was just taking advantage of what the market had to offer,' offered Jaheira curtly.

'But he must have known they were murdered,' cried Aerie. Fritha shrugged.

'I don't doubt it, but that is not the same as using the rope yourself.'

More than one person was shaking their head, though it was Valygar who gave a voice to their reservations. 'If you blackmail Deril then he will never be brought to justice.'

'Never say never, Valygar,' warned Fritha, her manner graver than it had been yet as she continued, 'But yes, there is a chance Deril will use the opportunity to even further obscure his practices and that is a risk we must all be aware of as we come to a decision in this. Cernd,' she continued more gently as she turned to him, the man sat in silence, his eyes downcast, 'you have not said much so far, have you nothing to add?'

'This man is a necromancer who is likely also a murderer and he has care of my son. What can be said?'

That seemed to be all Fritha needed to hear, the girl straightening in her seat to announce, 'All right, we vote on it. All in favour of presenting Deril with this evidence.'

Fritha, Jaheira, Cernd, Minsc and finally the reluctant Aerie all raised their hands.

'Carried. I'm sorry,' Fritha sighed to the two men across from her. Anomen said nothing, Valygar shrugging as though he had expected no different. 'Now we just need an opportunity to speak with him.'

'What about this gathering Deril is holding?' offered Jaheira. Fritha looked sceptical.

'I don't think I'm going to be able to pass myself of as Athkatla's nascent star of necromancy.'

Aerie managed a laugh. 'Yes, I can hardly believe those flowers actually were for some evil gathering of mages.'

'But they weren't,' said Anomen quietly, suddenly striking the table to cry, 'Why did I not see it before? Ivy and wild roses were the main plants used in pomanders in ancient times, thought to ward off the plague –Deril's celebration, it's a gathering for St Aldulphi's Day!'

'It is that time of year again so soon?' exclaimed Valygar. Anomen nodded, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding table of bewildered frowns.

'How could you not realise? They have been preparing the celebrations in nearly every temple across the…' the knight trailed off, turning to the rest of them to add, 'Well, most celebrations will be held during the tenth day services, though the actual day itself is the twenty-first of Uktar, the day after tomorrow.'

'St Aldulphi's Day,' repeated Fritha, 'that's the second time I've heard about it now. What is it?'

Anomen was quick to enlighten her.

'It is an Athkatlan tradition over four hundred years old. Aldulphi was a follower of the Illmateran faith. Of the peasant classes herself, she was known for her acts of selfless generosity, always sharing what little she had with those who needed it and when a plague ravaged the city she stayed behind where many fled to tend the sick, working to ease the dying even as she became one of them. It was through her sacrifice, it was said, that Illmater took pity on the city and Athkatla was spared. Though an Illmateran, many of the temples in the city held services celebrating her courage and altruism and the tradition grew from there. Every year on the day of her death and the end of the plague both, Athkatlans celebrate by giving what they can spare to others who are in need of it -though the traditions have been somewhat warped in recent times, the day merely an excuse for the city's nobles to flaunt their wealth, sending lavish gifts, making extravagant donations to their favoured temples and holding vast gatherings. I believe it is the poorer citizens who are the ones keeping the true spirit of the saint alive, sparing what little they can to help those less fortunate.'

'But how can you be sure this gathering is to be in celebration of that?' pressed Jaheira. Valygar gave a deep uneasy sigh.

'In my mother's journals she records that Deril, like many nobles, holds a ball in celebration of the day -an irony that no doubt affords him some amusement,' the ranger added bitterly. But it was an amusement that could be shared in, it seemed.

'A ball, you say?' Fritha smiled broadly. 'I bet the Lady Patron could get an invite.'