Boo was interested in this opportunity to watch the child’s explanations to the others. They were all assembled in Lady Caan’s small upstairs sitting room, waiting for Patricia to arrive. All but Nalia and the Watcher, that is, whom Boo had observed leaving the house over an hour ago. That was particularly odd behavior for a man that hung on every word out of Patricia’s mouth.

Just then, the monk opened the door and entered the room. She didn’t take more than two steps before her normally placid countenance was shattered by a look of sheer terror. She stumbled backwards, a faint keening edging out from between her clenched teeth. Keldorn was nearest the door, and vainly clutched at her, but missed. Once she was safely beyond the threshold, the horror passed from her face as she brought it once more under rigid control. Tentatively, she stepped back into the room, as if she were afraid of receiving a static shock. Her face showed no change this time, however, and she made her way across to Delcia.

“It was here, wasn’t it,” she said to the older woman. “This is where the doppelgangers attacked mother and Gigi... and me.”

“Yes, child. How did you know?”

“I felt it. I… believe it or not, I think I remembered it. No words or thoughts, just the terror. I suppose some of mother’s fear might have carried over to me in her womb; I don’t know. The Ilmateri or a physician would be the ones to ask about that.”

Oh, this was frustrating beyond belief! His curiosity had him dying to know what was going on behind that face, but he didn’t dare try to read her mind. She’d sense the contact for certain, and he was not yet ready to reveal himself. Perhaps it could be risked when she next fell asleep.

“Well, I suppose now I know where to begin--- in this room.”

Boo paid close attention as Patricia related the history of Delspeth’s kidnapping, the aborted ritual, and the rescue. He was pleased to note that her story was accurate, though she offered no specifics of what had occurred during the ritual. “Until a year ago,” she ended, “I never knew there was anything odd about me at all. Lots of children lose a parent. I accepted Mama’s explanation of why Papa didn’t want to talk about it without question; I didn’t feel that I had to know. Now, of course, I’ve a thousand things I’d like to ask.”

“I have only one story about what happened that night in the docks, and I must accept it as valid. My mother had no reason to lie about what occurred, and I have already written to Delaine to confirm that she knew about the pregnancy.” She turned to Keldorn. “Can you tell me if the Reverend Brother of Ilmater my mother spoke of still presides here? He may be able to throw some further light on the situation.”

The paladin frowned. “I believe so, Patricia. In fact, the same man has occupied the position for as long as I can remember. But you have referred only vaguely to this ritual. Did your mother write nothing of its intent?”

“I am coming to that; it lies at the core of what you might call my identity crisis. You see, I now have three competing versions of my heritage. The first, which has been pretty clearly demonstrated to be false, is that there was nothing unusual about my past at all. As I just said, lots of children lose a parent. The second version--- well, that’s where confusion sets in.”

“About a year ago, Gorion came to me early one morning and ordered me to pack for a journey. I’d been expecting to be called before the Grand Master of the Order soon anyway. Ordinarily, I’d have left Candlekeep as soon as I achieved Journeywoman status. However, most students then travel back to their homes, and spend about six months visiting with the families they may not have seen in some years. Since I was raised in Candlekeep, I was told I might stay on for a few months if I liked. One of the oldest Masters was finishing a volume that represented his life’s work, and I helped check all the references for that, which took six months, and then I was given permission to do the same for a visiting mage name Firebead Elvenhair. That took another six months, until last Mirtul. I was more than ready to commence my Journeys, but I was surprised that father was going to come with me. It wasn’t exactly against the rules, but it wasn’t usual, either. If anybody came with me, I’d thought it would be Daddy Winthrop, whose traveling foot often took to itching. I don’t think Papa had been outside the walls in ten years, except to go visit Bentley Mirrorshade once every year to get new spectacles made.”

She closed her eyes. Boo knew the next part would be hard for her to recount. “We left Candlekeep that afternoon. Imoen wanted to come, too, but Papa flatly forbade it. We were still traveling eastwards after moonrise. Father had insisted on running parallel to, but not on, the Coast Way, and we were beset in the middle of a meadow. There were far too many for the two of us to hope to defeat. Papa told me to run, so I did. I thought--- I thought he was going to set off an explosion or some other wide-area spell, and wanted me out of its range. Either his casting was interrupted, or whatever he planned didn’t work. I heard his death cry even as I kept moving.”

“I’d thought it was ordinary bandits, but they didn’t even pause to take Papa’s purse or rings. They came hunting after me instead. You can imagine how I felt about that. I’d gone to earth just as soon as I was well inside the woods that surrounded the meadow, wriggling deep within a huge patch of briars, and there I stayed until morning.”

“When I came out of hiding, I slipped back the way I had come. From the edge of the trees I spotted Imoen, of all people, standing over Papa’s body. We buried him there. She’d overheard Papa and Daddy and Mama talking, and she knew we were headed to the Friendly Arm Inn to meet some old friends of Papa’s.”

“I needed to know why those people were after us. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but the story that emerged was incredible. As we pieced together the picture then, my father was killed by my brother.” She stopped, seeing the looks of astonishment on the faces of everyone but Minsc. She raised a hand to forestall any comments. “It sounds like a bad ballad, yes, but all the evidence we had pointed in that direction.”

“My purported brother’s name was Sarevok, the son of a high-ranking Iron Throne merchant. He was the spider at the center of the web of the iron crisis, responsible for the corruption of the ore coming from the Nashkel mines and a rising tide of bandit raids on Sword Coast travelers.”

“Part of what I learned stemmed from Sarevok’s statements about his peculiar beliefs, part from the prophecies of Alaundo, part from various documents I obtained, and part from a strange series of dreams. Until I received my mother’s letter, this is what I believed about my heritage: my father was not Gorion, but Bhaal.” She paused while the others gave vent to shocked exclamations. Keldorn, in particular, looked appalled. “Aye, Sir Keldorn, I see you, too, have heard something of the prophecies. ‘The Lord of Murder shall sire a score of mortal progeny.’” She didn’t quite succeed in keeping the bitterness out of her voice as she quoted the words of Alaundo. “You can’t imagine what it was like, wondering how your dead mother had fallen under the sway of the Lord of Murder, whether it was voluntary--- or otherwise. Wondering how she died, wondering what awful things might be lurking in the bottom of your own mind.” She brought herself up short with a visible effort. “That’s when the dreams began, promises of power in return for obedience. For all I knew then, it was just the call of my tainted blood, the same blood that ran in Sarevok’s veins. He succumbed to the lure, believing that he could actually rise to godhood in Bhaal’s stead if he could only wreak enough havoc. He was hunting me because he’d found out, I don’t know how, that I too was supposedly a Bhaalspawn.”

She brought her chin up defiantly. “But I am not. At least, not in the way Sarevok said he was. It seems that he was wrong. It wasn’t the blood of Bhaal calling his children. It was his very soul clamoring for reunification.”

“The purpose of the ritual Minchin attempted on me was to displace my own soul with Bhaal’s. It’s pure speculation, but I believe it was supposed to be all of him at once. But Sune and Ilmater interfered with his plans, manifesting themselves to protect my mother and me, and so only a tiny fragment of Bhaal’s soul was left, now hopelessly entwined with my own. Mother’s account ends there. I’ve no idea what else happened, though it seems self-evident that Bhaal tried again. I suspect that Sarevok was influenced by the same ritual, only timed at the very moment of conception. If mother’s revelation can be believed, the consequences then would be far more dire. Even a fragment of Bhaal’s soul could easily prevail over any other that subsequently arrived from the astral plane.”

Boo was impressed. The child had reasoned quite well, given her imperfect knowledge of the facts, coming up with essentially accurate conclusions. Soon, perhaps, he would be able to make further revelations to her. But they must clear up the Firkraag dilemma first, before he could return his attention to Imoen’s predicament.

“Sarevok was at least a year younger than I am, possibly more. I don’t recall the exact date of Bhaal’s defeat by Cyric, but if you take Alaundo literally, there are eighteen more of us out there somewhere. Since I seem to have been a sort of botched job, I may even have been the first attempt. We were all probably born within four or five years of each other, anyhow. Some may not have survived. Some may even have killed themselves when they learned of their heritage. I was certainly tempted, until I realized that that would only be playing into evil’s hands just as much as accepting the offers of greater power that haunted my dreams.”

The child hesitated again. Boo noticed that her fists were clenched tight as she stared at the floor. “I’ve told you what I am now. I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to trust yourselves in my company any longer. All I can say is, I have been assured that because of the ritual’s failure, I do retain control of my own destiny. If I fall, it will be because I have become weak, not because a fall is inevitable.” She looked up again, and stared at Keldorn. “I cannot promise what the future may hold. I don’t know what temptations tomorrow may bring. But each day I get up and repeat my Order’s Credo: I will seek truth and knowledge today. I would know myself, good and bad, that I might change myself. I will not condone suffering or injustice, but fight to restore the light of good to those enslaved by darkness. I will seek help when I need it and proffer it freely to others. Above all, I will remember that I am not the center of the universe.” Her voice gave extra weight to the last sentence.

Keldorn and Jan both smiled at that, Boo noticed. He couldn’t help giving a pleased twitch of his whiskers himself at her delivery of the tag line. “Li Ho Fook was a true genius,” commented Patricia. “Our teachings constantly encourage us to retain our sense of perspective. None of us is Ao, after all.”

She turned to Delcia. “So, Lady Delcia, can you understand why I think it would be better that our relationship go unannounced at present, even to the servants?”

The elderly lady nodded. “Aye, I do, Patricia. And I must say that I am pleased with your choice of subject matter, at least. A perfectly ladylike occupation; cookery is inherently respectable. One must eat, after all.”

Boo was amused. Lady Delcia, for one, was apparently still under the firm conviction that at least a good portion of the cosmos was under her command. He toyed for a moment with the delicious scheme of showing her exactly what kind of guest she had entertained unawares, but discarded it as petty.

Patricia was speaking to Delcia again. “Lady Delcia, where is Nalia? She wasn’t in her room when I went by on my way up here.”

The older woman replied, “Oh, I sent her off in the carriage to the cemetery, with Lord Anomen and two of the footmen as escorts. It’s traditional to revisit the grave on the second day after a funeral to place fresh flowers and ensure that no desecrations have occurred. There is a caretaker, but I doubt he does much patrolling at night.”

Impressive! Boo thought. Her mind is more forward-looking and devious than I had suspected. It is almost a pity that her efforts are virtually certain to be doomed to failure. Still, I shall observe her campaign with interest. There is always something new to be learned about manipulating people, and she possesses a certain ham-fisted mastery of the subject. Ah, but how will Tisha react to this news?

The monk raised an eyebrow, then gave Lady Delcia a long, interrogatory glance. The other woman nodded almost imperceptibly, and Patricia quirked the side of her mouth upwards ever so slightly. Evidently she didn’t disapprove of her relative’s machinations. Keldorn and Minsc appeared relatively indifferent, although Jan, of all people, looked a bit irritated. Probably just unhappy that he didn’t have the chance to go along and quietly lift anything valuable that was lying around loose.

“Well, I don’t know if we should wait for them to return, or try to go after them ourselves,” Tisha began, when she was interrupted by the sound of the front door being thrown open below, followed by multiple footsteps crossing the hall. One set of feet evidently outstripped the others, flying lightly upstairs. That had to be Nalia. Ah, yes, he could scent her now; that gardenia perfume she habitually wore was quite strong, and preceded her down the passage.

“Tisha! Aunt Delcia! Call the garrison, quick!”

Patricia caught Nalia by the arm as she darted into the room. “Whatever is the matter, Nalia? Where is Anomen?”

“Behind me. Oh, it’s horrid! But here comes Tirdir, he’ll tell you all about it. I had the worst time trying to convince him to come back with us in the carriage! Anomen didn’t really want him to come either, but they finally gave in!” Nalia stopped, obviously out of breath, as the others entered the parlor.

Anomen was unobtrusively supporting a thin, blond young man perhaps a year older than Nalia. His clothes were somewhat the worse for wear. Boo was instantly reminded of the way Patricia had looked as she first entered the Promenade. Somehow disorder always looked worse on an ordinarily neat person. This young man had once been dressed at the current height of fashion, with tight hose, a very short tunic, and pointy-toed low shoes. Now both had many rips and tears, and there was no sign of the signet rings and earrings a young fop ordinarily wore. His clothes were quite dirty, too, despite showing signs of a hasty brushing.

He attempted to make a low bow to Lady Delcia, but staggered and nearly fell. “Anomen! Be careful, don’t drop him!” cried Nalia. “Tirdir, don’t be so silly. Your muscles are stiff as boards.” The mage practically dragged the young man over to a sofa and forced him to sit down. “There, now. Tell Lady Patricia what happened to you.”

At a signal from Delcia, Keldorn had poured a glass of water and a glass of brandy from a tantalus on a side table. Boo watched him cross the room and hand first the water, then the brandy to the young man, who drank each off without stopping. Boo grimaced. He could smell that the brandy was far too good a vintage to be gulped in that fashion, but he supposed it was an emergency of sorts. The boy had the scent of fear all over him.

Boo noted with interest that while Nalia was still hovering near this Tirdir’s seat on the sofa, Anomen had come up to stand just behind Patricia’s shoulder. The monk’s control was back in full force, and she spoke first. “Nalia, give the man a chance to recoup himself.” To Tirdir she said, “I am Lady Patricia Contemplata; Lord Anomen and Lady Nalia you already know. That is Lady Delcia Caan, your hostess; the man who gave you the water is Sir Keldorn Firecam; the man with the hamster is Ranger Minsc; and that is Mister Jansen in the corner. We are ready to listen whenever you are recovered enough to begin.”

Strangely, the young man seemed even more reluctant to speak than before. Nalia finally spoke up. “This is Tirdir Jalpurn; his family lives three blocks from here. His twin sister and I were at school together. We heard him moaning as we passed an open grave in the cemetery. Come on, Tirdir, you’ve got to tell Patricia what you told me when we found you!”

Tirdir groaned, apparently realizing he wasn’t going to be left alone. “I was buried by the men who kidnapped me! They held me for ransom from my family, and after my family had paid they knocked me out. I remember being carried to the graveyard and thrown into a newly-dug grave next to another body, buried alive!”

Nalia couldn’t restrain her indignation at the man’s treatment. “I almost can't think of anything more horrible. Burying a man alive just for some money!” She made a face and added, “Pfaugh!”

Tirdir continued, “Nalia, I am sure I would have died if you and Lord Anomen had not arrived so soon! What a horrid death these evil men had in store for me! Ohhh...,” he trailed off, and began rocking miserably.

Minsc had shifted his position, and so Boo could no longer see Patricia’s face, but Keldorn’s wore an outraged expression. Boo himself was quite annoyed. Such chaotic happenings did not make for orderly civic life. Apparently these were not even honorable kidnappers, since they did not return their victims once the ransom had been paid.

Keldorn’s full baritone inquired, “Why did you not report this to the Guard at once, Anomen?"

Tirdir turned a panicked gaze upon the knight. “Oh, no, Sir Keldorn, I wouldn’t let him! These men are still out there... and they will surely come after me and my family if they find out I said anything to the authorities! They said they had done this before--- kidnapped people and buried them for money! They will surely exact revenge if I go to the garrison! Next time it might be my sister!”

“But if you go home,” Patricia pointed out, “they’ll know you’re alive, and they may come after you anyway because you’re a witness. You can identify them, or at least they’ll think you can.”

Tirdir went white as this possibility sank in. “Please! You must--- you must stop them! I beg of you!”

“What can you tell us about these men?” Patricia inquired. “How did they capture you?”

“I don't know their names. There were three of them, dressed all in red, strange and bright as you please. I was walking out in the garden quite late two nights ago, and suddenly I found a stinking cloth pressed to my face. I passed out for a while, and when I came to I was tied to a chair in a dark room. I stayed that way until they all came up again laughing, and one said, ‘Well, another carcass paid for! Me lad, we’ve you to thank for a purse of gold. Too bad your family’ll never see you again. I think there’s goin’ to be a little accident along the way, eh, me boys?’ Then they pressed the cloth back on my face again, though not for so long. I do remember that the youngest one carried me to the cemetery. I woke up with this in my hand. I think I must have torn it off his cloak when he threw me in the grave. Here, perhaps it will help you find him.” Tirdir handed Nalia a scrap of heavy ruby-colored cloth.

“Is there anything else you can think of?” Nalia pressed.

“Only that there was someone who spoke to this man once we got to the cemetery. Perhaps the gravekeeper. You should talk to him, at least... he must have seen something!”

Keldorn looked sharply at Patricia. Boo had been wondering at her sudden silence himself. She and Anomen appeared to be staring at each other. He wished he could get a better glimpse of her face, but he didn’t want to distract Minsc just now. “I believe I can speak for us all when I say we shall do our best to locate these men and bring them to justice, Lord Tirdir,” said Keldorn. “Give your father my greetings. Lady Delcia, with your permission I should like to write a note to my wife, warning her not to walk outside after dark until this matter has been cleared up. Tirdir, ask your father to pass the warning along to your neighbors, as well. You had best not leave the house for a while at all, day or night.”

“You may depend on it, Sir Keldorn! Bless you all! I wish you all success! Thank you, Helm, for watching over me!” Tirdir kept babbling his thanks all the way down the stairs and into the carriage, as everyone but Delcia escorted him downstairs.