"I'll see to it at once," Taeros promised. "You'll have Roldo back before highsun." Whether you want him or not, he thought.

Sarintha was already nodding curtly, and Taeros was left bowing at a swirling of skirts as she turned and strode from the room.

Taeros didn't know whether to glare at the open doorway or sigh. After a moment he shrugged instead, dressed quickly, and strode out, leaving his telltale cloak behind.

Hurrying to the carriage house, he bade the groom harness the unmarked coach, a workaday carriage with curtained windows of the sort used by many slimcoin travelers and merchants.

The hostler knew his work. Without prompting he passed over the stalls of sleek, highbred horses to choose a pair of cart nags, and brought out unadorned harness. The drover stripped off his Hawkwinter livery and turned the tabard inside out, so its plain dark lining showed. The same routine was well-rehearsed among most noble house servants in Waterdeep, for many masters frequently ordered errands best done quietly.

After a seemingly interminable ride through bustling morning streets-ye gods, didn't anyone in this city sleep?-the coach rumbled to a halt before the Castle entrance known as the Dungeon Doors. A panel in the heavy iron gate slid open, and a gray-bearded man looked out expectantly.

Taeros jerked the coach-curtain aside. "I've come for Roldo Thongolir. Brought in last night for drunken brawling."

The gateguard shook his head. "Here no longer; fine's paid."

"What? By whom?"

The guard's steel-gray gaze sharpened. "And who might be asking?"

Taeros thunked Sarintha's purse down on the coach's door-ledge. "A friend to Lord Thongolir, acting on behalf of his lady wife."

The graybeard eyed the purse-or rather, the Thongolir crest worked into its soft leather. "Guess there's no harm in telling you to take Lady Thongolir's coins to Mirt. The moneylender sent word last night pledging payment."

Gritting his teeth, Taeros gave the man a curt nod of thanks. Calling the new destination to his drover, he flung himself back in his seat, not bothering to close the curtain.

They were nearly at Mirt's Mansion when Taeros caught a glimpse of glittering rose hue and rapped hastily on the coach wall. Even before the drover had quite pulled the horses to a stop, Taeros was out and down into the street.

Striding through the street crowd, he clapped Roldo on the arm. His friend spun around, hand on sword.

"Save that for Sarintha," Taeros said sourly. "She sent me to settle your fines and debts."

Roldo grimaced. "My lady's well informed."

"Better than your friends." Taeros slapped the purse into Roldo's hand. "If you'd need of coin, why not come to me?"

"All's settled with the moneylender-and if you're willing, I'd like to settle the debt between us with something more handsome than coins. I've received a gift more suited to your name and tastes than mine: A charm wrought in white gold."

Cradled in his hand was bright, silvery fancy work: a pendant of a smooth, stylized hawk soaring across a beautifully carved, intricate snowflake, on a fine chain. Roldo put it into his friend's palm with great care.

"Very fine," Taeros murmured, peering at it with dawning pleasure. "I think I've won the better part of this bargain."

Roldo glanced around, and then took his friend's arm and pulled him into the angle formed by two mismatched shop walls.

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," he muttered. "This is a magical thing; it lets you trade shapes with another man… and it comes with two solemn oaths: to never tell anyone about its powers and to use them only for the good of Waterdeep."

Taeros stared at his friend. "Who-"

"The moneylender's lady gave it to me. Korvaun has one too. We did Lord Mirt some small service."

"Then why not keep it your-"

"I'm not the one-the right one-to hold such power." Roldo's stare was like fire. "You know heroes and their great deeds, Taeros. I've seen pages of your gift to the child king; Thongolir scribes are embellishing them now. If a time comes when this is needed, who'd know what had to be done better than you?"

Who, indeed? Taeros saw himself again as he'd been in his dream, standing alone on Waterdeep's ramparts with only quill and parchment in hand. Poor weapons… but perhaps Roldo was right!

After all, his Hawkwinter head and heart were full of wondrous stories. Surely one might yield a plan when the city stood in need, so he could tell Korvaun what to do!

Korvaun, not Beldar… now that was unexpected, yet felt oddly right.

Taeros put the pendant around his neck. "I accept with honor, and I swear to so serve Waterdeep," he said solemnly.

Roldo managed a wavering smile. "Thank you. I'd consider it a courtesy if we spoke no more of this."

"As you wish." Taeros cleared his throat. "So, where were you heading in such haste?"

"Korvaun wants all of us to meet this morn. Didn't you-? I guess his messenger came after you were up and about."

"At the clubhouse? I've a coach!"

Roldo grinned. "And I've the sloth to take it!"

Korvaun and Starragar were waiting in the club, tankards ready.

"None of my messages seems to have reached Beldar," Korvaun told Taeros, serving forth ale, "so we might as well start."

Starragar frowned. "Shouldn't we find him?"

"I don't believe he wants to be found," Korvaun said quietly. "If we hear nothing for, say, another two days, we should search, but right now it's probably best to leave him his privacy."

Roldo shook his head. "This isn't like Beldar."

"No," Taeros agreed dryly, "usually he'd be the one starting brawls at a house of healing and pleasure." Waving away Starragar's quizzical glance, he asked, "So why are we here, exactly?"

Korvaun leaned forward. "I've been looking into all of these fallen buildings."

'"All of 'these'?" Taeros asked sharply. "There's another?"

"A tallhouse in North Ward, fortunately empty at the time. However, hear this: both it and the Slow Cheese were owned by Elaith Craulnober."

Taeros whistled. "Interesting. There was some unpleasantness three or four years back, talk of a band of elves from the forests come to the city and fighting here under Craulnober's command. He left for Tethyr soon after and presumably took his elves with him. Now, not long after his return to our streets, two of his properties are destroyed. Some sort of retribution, d'you suppose?"

Korvaun shrugged. "Possibly, but I've come across a remarkable amount of property owned by the Serpent-and I don't think I've found half of it. That two out of all these collapsed is not quite the coincidence it might at first seem."

Starragar frowned. "What else?"

"Varandros Dyre is insisting to anyone who'll listen that the Lords are digging new tunnels to spy on citizens."

"Well, the Lords couldn't do that without hiring Dyre or rivals he'd know about," Roldo pointed out, "but the Serpent, now… if there's anyone in Waterdeep who warrants watching right now, 'tis him."

As the friends exchanged grim nods, Taeros said slowly, "The Lords may not be the only ones watching Elaith. Now that I think of it, Dyre's maidservant was at Craulnober's party the night Malark died, not to serve but gowned as a guest."

"You're certain?"

Taeros nodded. "I thought she looked familiar at the time but couldn't place her. Yes, I'm quite sure."

Korvaun ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "This is truly troubling. Is she watching Elaith Craulnober or watching for him?"

"The latter seems more likely," Starragar put in darkly, "but if we put a man to watching her, we'll know soon enough."

"'Twould be better to send a woman," Taeros mused, "A sellsword who can pose as a serving wench and go where Lark goes. Hiring blades is Hawkwinter business, so I'll see to it."