Free Curse of the Shadowmage by Anthony Mark Page A

and Caledan solved the mystery of the murders. It was the Zhentarim, right? You yourself told me the one we caught in the act was probably just a madman killing in imitation.”
    “I thought so, too,” Mari said grimly, then filled Tyveris in on what she had learned concerning the strange happenings in Corm Orp and Caledan’s disappearance.
    When she finished, Tyveris swore a rather colorful oath.
    Morhion raised a single eyebrow. “That didn’t sound like any prayer to Oghma I’m familiar with,” he noted dryly.
    Tyveris shot the mage a black look. “It’s a new one. I just made it up.” His expression became somber. “So Caledan’s in trouble again. The sages aren’t kidding when they say old habits die hard. Come on, then.”
    Moments later they came to an iron-barred cell at the end of the corridor. “Wake up, Kadian!” Tyveris called out in a booming voice.
    A haggard voice spoke out of the darkness. “I am awake.”
    Tyveris took a torch from a bracket and held it aloft. Flickering light spilled through the bars to illuminate
    the cell. A man sitting on a bed of clean straw rose stiffly to his feet. The thief Kadian was a large man—taller than Tyveris, though not so broad—but his pale hair and round face gave him a boyish look.
    “Is it time for the hanging?” Kadian asked. There was no fear in his colorless eyes, only grim resignation.
    “No,” Tyveris said huskily. “The next hanging will be in three days’ time, on the Feast of the Moon.”
    Mari stepped forward. “We’ve come to ask you some questions, Kadian.”
    At this, the thief let out a mirthless snort. “Questions? Now that’s a novelty. No one’s bothered to ask me any questions before.”
    She cast a scathing look at Tyveris, who shrugged sheepishly. Well, better too late than not at all, Mari thought. “Tell me, Kadian, did you kill that nobleman?”
    Kadian laughed ruefully. “That foppish sot? He wouldn’t have been worth the trouble it would take to stick a knife in and pull it back out.”
    “Just answer the question,” Mari instructed caustically.
    Kadian locked eyes with her. “No,” he said flatly. “I did not kill the petty lord. I wanted to steal his gold, and that was all. I was probably doing him a favor. No doubt he would have lost it all gambling at dice the next night, and those who can’t pay their gambling debts have a habit of taking long midnight swims at the bottom of the Chionthar. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to die.”
    Mari kept her voice cool and emotionless. “If you didn’t kill the petty lord, then who did?”
    While there had been no fear in the thief’s eyes at the talk of his own hanging, suddenly they were filled with a stark terror so strong Mari was taken aback. Kadian gripped the rusting iron bars; he was shaking visibly.
    “What did you see, Kadian?” she asked intently. “Who killed the nobleman that night?”
    He opened his mouth, but it took a long moment for the words to finally come out. “The shadows,” he choked. “It was the shadows …”
    Mari exchanged a startled glance with Morhion, then leaned closer to the thief. “Tell me, Kadian…”
    In halting words, the thief told what had happened that night. When he finished, the three friends gazed silently at each other. None of them doubted the truth of the thief’s story. The finest Cormyrean actor could not have feigned so genuine a terror.
    “I don’t understand, Mari,” an obviously shaken Tyveris said softly. “Does this have something to do with the weird shadows in Corm Orp?”
    Mari ran a hand nervously through her thick auburn hair. “I’m not sure, Tyveris. I’m afraid it does.” She added grimly, “I trust that you will let Kadian go—”
    “Wait!”
    It was Kadian. Mari regarded the thief in surprise. The fear had not left his gaze. “I haven’t told about the man,” he said hoarsely.
    “The man?” Mari asked.
    Kadian nodded. “I saw him as the guards were dragging me away. He