Magic flowed from his fingertips like white-hot arrows and Arilyn’s hands fell away from her sword. His aim was true, and an arc of blue-white lightning crashed between his hands and what remained of the golem. The construct wilted like a candle left out in the sun.

Arilyn grabbed her sword and, the muscles in her arms corded so tightly they seemed about to snap, pulled the enchanted blade through the golem’s iron flesh.

The construct sank to the stone floor and the severed roof, arm ceased its twitching.

Arilyn was white-faced, weaving on her feet. Danilo suspected that only an act of will kept her standing. He went to her and brushed a stray curl off her damp forehead. When he gathered her close, her arms went around him instinctively.

“This battle reminds me of something else,” he murmured. “There was a powerful illusion cast on this golem, and Bentley Mirrorshade was a powerful illusionist.”

Arilyn lifted her head from his shoulder. “And?”

“One of the main tenants of the illusionist’s craft is to make people overlook the obvious. What is the most obvious question, and the one that no one thought to ask?”

The half-elf pondered this. A small, wry smile lifted the corner of her lips when the answer came to her, and she eased out of Danilo’s arms. “Give me the amulet of seeking,” she said. “I’ll go after the girl.”

Later that morning, Danilo again stood in the Temple of Wisdom. The body of Bentley Mirrorshade had made it there at last, and it was laid out in the enclosed courtyard in the center of the temple, upon a bier of stacked wood well-soaked with fragrant oil. It was no coincidence, thought Danilo, that the gnomes were preparing so hasty a funeral. Another hour more, and nothing he could do would save Elaith.

He explained his intentions to Gellana Mirrorshade. The gnomish priestess was not happy with his request, but she had pledged her aid to his quest for justice. She sent Garith Hunterstock to the dungeon to retrieve Elaith.