The Magehound

Tzigone remembered this villa. They had slipped through before during their nighttime wanderings. It was well guarded by monsters and magic. The first wave of defensive magic hit the intruders as soon as their feet touched dry ground. Her mother jolted and let out a small cry, just as the thief in the marketplace had done recently when he'd sagged upon the watchman's dirk. Tzigone felt none of the magical wards and did not expect to.

"Come," her mother gasped as she staggered toward a round freestanding tower that overlooked the garden and had no apparent connection to the villa itself.

Though the tower appeared utterly smooth from even a pace or two away, a narrow flight of stairs had been carved into the pink stone. They stumbled up the stairs, frantic now, all pretense of adventure forgotten. When they reached the top, her mother bent over, hands on her knees as she struggled for breath and speech. Tzigone could barely make out her request for light.

She had been schooled in which light to conjure during just such a "game," and she quickly cast the little cantrip. Light appeared, softer than moonlight and shaped like a giant teardrop, but visible only to her eyes. It illuminated not the natural material world, but the created magic that embellished it.

The faint light revealed a glassy, translucent path that stretched from the tower to a nearby villa, one on the very shores of the lake.

But something about it was wrong. This wasn't how Tzigone remembered the path. She sent a questioning look at her mother. The woman nodded. Without further hesitation, Tzigone stepped out into the seemingly empty air. Her mother followed closely, trusting her daughter to see what she herself could not.

No moon shone that night, but suddenly the two fugitives were silhouetted against a large, softly glowing orb. Tzigone muttered a ripe phrase she'd overheard from an impatient sea captain who'd cursed the fickleness of Selune and her inconvenient tides. For once her mother did not reprove her for her inelegant speech.

They ran the length of the gossamer path and scrambled over the wall of the strange villa. Before them was a flight of stairs leading down toward the courtyard. In the center of the courtyard, a large oval pool brooded in the moonlight.

"Let's try it," her mother said. "It looks like a weir for lake trout."

They had encountered such things before on their "adventures." Fish weirs were common in lakeside villas, for they provided sport for the children and food for the table. A short tunnel led from lake to pool, and magic lured the fish. Swimming them was risky-there were powerful magical wards to keep anything but fish from swimming in. Swimming out was another matter. So far, Tzigone had encountered no surprises more unpleasant than the magic that tickled her skin like sparkling wine and an occasional fish that brushed past her on its way to the wizard lord's table.

They ran down the stairs, their eyes fixed on the mosaic floor below. The descent seemed to take far longer than it should have. Tzigone noticed suddenly that the floor's pattern seemed to be shifting. The color turned from its intricate inlay of deep reds and rich yellows to a uniform hue of darkest sapphire. Small lights began to twinkle in the glossy tile.

Puzzled, she came to a stop on the next landing. Her mother bumped heavily into her. Tzigone glanced back the way they'd come.

"Look," she said grimly, pointing up. Or possibly down. The pool gleamed overhead, and below them was the unmistakable void of the night sky. Inexplicably the two had changed places.

"A puzzle palace," her mother said in a faint, despairing voice. "Mystra save us."

The child's trained gaze darted around. Several flights of stairs led from the landing, some going up, some down, and some leading nowhere at all. There were four levels of balconies surrounding the courtyard, and all levels seemed to be split into several parts. Some had been fashioned with elaborately carved or tiled or painted ceilings, while others were roofed or floored by the night sky. It was as if some crazed wizard had inserted this small section of the city into a gigantic kaleidoscope, fracturing and fragmenting reality beyond logic or recognition.

"This way," she guessed and darted in the direction of a waterfall that disappeared into the air, only to resume its fall a few dozen paces to the south.

It proved to be a good choice. In moments they stood before a door-a real door, one that opened with a latch and led into the solid, staid reality of the villa beyond.

As the door swung open, her mother's amulet started to glow.

Never had this happened before, and the fearsome novelty of it froze Tzigone's feet to the floor. In the span of a heartbeat, the shining bit of electrum turned rosy with heat. Her mother let out a pained gasp and tore off the amulet, breaking the slender chain.