Olive nodded, her eyes wide with amazement at the young man's close call. She followed him down the corridor, wondering with suspicion what he seemed to be holding with his hand, which remained buried in his cloak pocket.

"I believe we should be able to follow this sewer to an opening near a street," the nobleman said.

"Yes," Alias added. "And if we're lucky, the fog will still be thick, and no one will notice us." "They’ll smell us before they see us," Olive predicted.

Sixteen

The sewer passage surfaced in a storm drain. After taking a moment to I get his bearings, Victor pointed them in the direction of an outdoor ale garden called the Rosebud. There the I merchant noble sent a runner for his carriage, and tipped the proprietor generously for the use of his well in the back. Pouring buckets of fresh water over each other, the four managed to scrape all of the sewer muck and most of the smell off their skin and clothes. Olive, gathering up her sopping cloak, excused herself, declaring she had a previous engagement. Alias didn't argue. She was anxious to grill Victor about the source of his key, and she knew the merchant lord would say nothing in Olive's presence.

Shortly after the halfling had gone, a young serving boy brought them three mugs of mulled wine. Alias allowed herself a few minutes to enjoy the sensation of warmth creeping back into her bones, then she forced herself to return to the business at hand.

"Victor, you have to tell me where you found the key," Alias insisted. Victor stared hard into his mulled wine as if an answer might appear in the mug. "I began thinking about what you said last night, that maybe Father was paying the Night Masks on the side but was too proud to admit it. I started searching through his desk in secret. I couldn't find anything about payoffs, but I found this key. It was in an envelope with instructions on how to use it." "And the instructions?" Alias asked. "Were they written in your father's hand?"

"Yes," Victor admitted. "I thought I should check it out by myself, in case it wasn't anything important." "Or in case it was," Alias commented.

"It doesn't prove anything," Victor insisted. "There could be a perfectly good reason why he had the key. You have a key, too?" Alias nodded. "How did you get it?" the noble asked.

"I took it from Melman shortly before the Night Masks blew up his home with him in it," the swordswoman explained.

Dragonbait looked at Alias with surprise. She was deliberately misleading the noble to believe that Melman was dead.

"Victor, did you tell your father I was checking up on Melman?"

"When I got home last night. We had this stupid argument. He said I was distracting you from your duties. I told him what you told me at the party about Melman." The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "You don't think-he couldn't. It's just a coincidence. My father is not involved with the Night Masters!"

Now it was Alias's turn to look down into her mulled wine for a reply.

"You said yourself, last night, that you didn't think Father was the Faceless, that he had no reason to be involved with them. He hired you to get rid of them," Victor argued. "Wait! He could have gotten the key from Kimbel after Kimbel tried to assassinate him."

"Then why didn't he turn the key over to Durgar?" Alias asked.

Unable to come up with a ready excuse, Victor shifted tactics. "What would you do if you found the key in the possession of someone you loved? If it were, say, in Drag-onbait'e purse?"

Alias exchanged a look with the paladin. "I would ask him about it," the swordswoman replied.

"You wouldn't just take it to Durgar first, would you?" Victor retorted.

Alias sighed. "Victor, Dragonbait is like a brother to me. I've known him all my life."

"I've known my father all my life, too," the merchant noble countered.

"Very well," Alias said. "Ill ask your father about the key before I mention it to Durgar. I will give him a chance to explain."

"No!" Victor exclaimed. "That is, Гт asking you to give me a chance to ask him. He's my father, and, well, I think I should be the one to ask."

Alias couldn't imagine Victor getting a straight answer from his verbally abusive father, and, if Luer Dhostar should actually be involved with the Night Masks, there was a chance Victor would be in danger.

"I know what you're thinking,'' Victor said, "but you're wrong. My father would never hurt me. He has a good reason for having this key. You'll see. Let me handle this."

Alias nodded reluctantly. "All right," she said. "I have to report to Durgar about the lair today, so he can send the watch in at the next low tide. I will tell him you accompanied us there. I will not mention you had a key just yet. But, Victor, I can't keep that from him for long. I must have some explanation from your father by tomorrow."

Tomorrow, then," the young merchant agreed. "I have all sorts of tasks to finish for the ball. We can discuss it then." "Ball?" Alias asked.

"Yes. Oh, I almost forgot." Victor replied with a sheepish grin. "I'm afraid your invitation is just a little damp." He reached into his cloak pocket and drew out a soggy sheet of parchment folded in thirds. The sealing wax was marked with the croamarkh's insignia. Victor held it out to her.

Alias held up a hand as if to ward the invitation away like an evil spirit. "Victor, It supposed to be uncovering the identity of the Night Masters and the Faceless. I can't be rushing off to every party in Westgate."

"This isn't just a party. This is the Regatta Masquerade Ball," Victor argued. "It's the major social event of the season. In King Verovan's day it was called the Naval Ball, but since the king's demise, we celebrate it as a commemoration of his folly. Everyone will be there."

With a sigh, the swordswoman took the folded document from the merchant and turned it over. It was addressed to her and Dragonbait.

"Besides, we have a reason to celebrate. You've found the Faceless's lair. I know I ruined our chances trying to capture him by setting off that water trap, but once you get Din-gar's men down there at the next low tide to clear out his treasury and that mask thing that protects him and his lieutenants-well, it will really only be a matter of sweeping up, won't it? Please, say you'll come." Victor reached out and took her hand. "You'll need to come anyway to hear what my father has to say-about the key. Besides, I've really been looking forward to dancing with you."

"Г11 come, to hear your father explain the key to me and Durgar," Alias said. She tucked the invitation into the vest beneath her chain mail. "Maybe Г11 dance," she added, "if I think then that I have something to celebrate."

The young serving boy came out to announce that Lord Victor's carriage was waiting at the front gate. Alias declined the merchant noble's offer of a lift back to Blais House.

Between feeling shy in front of both the carriage driver and Dragonbait and feeling less than attractive with her hair plastered against her head and the scent of sewage lingering about her, Alias was prepared to see Victor off with no more than a friendly squeeze of his hand. The young merchant apparently did not feel similarly inhibited. He pulled the swordswoman close and stole a quick kiss from her before he climbed up beside his carriage driver. "Until tomorrow," he said. Alias nodded.

As the nobleman's carriage pulled away, Alias turned and looked toward the River Thunn. "I wonder how quickly the tide comes in."

Dragonbait did not reply. He was staring at the back of Victor's carriage, which seemed to have picked up a small, wet, halfling-sized bundle on the rear boot.