It took Rojan almost a quarter-hour to realise that he had got away with it. Any pursuers had either become lost in the maze of torchlit streets or had given up. Sure that he was safe, Rojan leaned back against the filth-covered wall of the alley and laughed with relief. He had done it! He had actually done it!

Rojan fiddled in his belt pouch and extracted the object of his activities that night: a faceted oval of crystal, only a thumb span across. By day it was merely a pretty bauble, but by night it became obvious why it deserved the soubriquet 'The Light of the Moon'. In the dark of the alley, the gem glowed with a silvery light that came from within.

"You beauty," Rojan said and kissed his treasure. "Now to introduce you to my other love."

The rogue made his way back to his eyrie - a tumbledown shack that had been built on top of an abandoned dockside storehouse. He and his current partner - known as Ellenore the Fay - had made it into a refuge, a place to retreat from the city and ... . Ellenore was waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch that was their main piece of furniture. "Well?" she asked.

Rojan said nothing. Instead, he held up the gem, letting its light shine out in the confines of their dwelling. Ellenore clapped her hands in delight. "So pretty!" She took the jewel from Rojan and stared longingly at it. It was only when Rojan coughed loudly that she could drag her attention back to him. "We must celebrate! I saved some of that wine - the one from the Phoenix Continent. And after that ... ." She sidled closer to Rojan and whispered lewldy in his ear. "After that, we can make love."

"An excellent plan!" Rojan sat on the couch and watched Ellenore pour out two cups of the fuming wine. She passed one to her lover.

"To the Light of the Moon," Ellenore said, raising the porcelain cup to her lips.

"And to you," Rojan said, doing likewise.

They drank deeply and ... .

Rojan woke with a head that pounded in time with his pulse, and with a mouth that was dry. He recognised the symptoms. The wine had been drugged! He looked around. "Ellenore?" But there was no reply, only the noise of the nearby dockside.

A wax tablet had been left on the floor by the now-empty wine bottle. There was a message on it, written in Ellenore's flowing hand. Rojan read it, and as he did his expression changed from bemusement to anger and finally to resignation.

"Damn you, Elle," he muttered. "If you'd have asked, I'd have given you the jewel. And with all my heart too."