The Kingdom of the Sands, Book 2 of The Vicelord Chronicles

by ely.cady.313

Tempered in the hardship of Faerûn, a young woman plays with fire as she dares to upset the lordship of her new homeland. She will find that many can hide falseness in truth, and truth in falseness, as she seeks a treasure that will give her the power to rule her own destiny.

The Kingdom of the Sands

Book 2

of the

Vicelord Chronicles

Shawn M. Cady

The Vicelord Chronicles

-Book 1 The Jewel of the Sands (2015)

-Book 2 The Kingdom of the Sands (2015)

-Book 3 The Scepter of the Sands (TBA)

-Book 4 The Throne of the Sands (TBA)

Also by Shawn Cady

The Enchanter's Cycle

-Book 1 The Path in the Shadow (2014)

-Book 2 The Phoenix Fate (TBA)

-Book 3 The Scythe and the Seer (TBA)

-Book 4 The All-One (TBA)

-Book 5 The End Time (TBA)

The Dreadborne Legacy

-Book 1 The Heart of Darkness (2012)

-Book 2 The Will of the Old Ones (TBA)

-Book 3 The Soul Forge and the Darkest Depths (TBA)

The Faerûnian Calander

Every year on the world of Abeir-Toril is measured in three hundred and sixty five days, split up into twelve months of thirty days each. The months are given both formal names and common names, spoken depending on the nearness of a holiday or with special emphasis. Each week consists of ten days, called a tenday. Each year is commonly measured by the Dalereckoning scale, beginning in the Year of Sunrise, when the Standing Stone was raised by the elves of Cormanthyr and the human Dalesfolk.

Month: Formal Name, Common name

1: Hammer, Deepwinter

2: Alturiak, The Claw of Winter

3: Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets

4: Tarsakh, The Claw of the Storms

5: Mirtul, The Melting

6: Kythorn, The Time of Flowers

7: Flamerule, Summertide

8: Elesias, Highsun

9: Eleint, The Fading

10: Marpenoth, Leaffall

11 Uktar, The Rotting

12 Nightal, The Drawing Down

Prelude

Almraiven, Calimshan (29th of Uktar, 1379 Dalereckoning)

He supped in his private quarters, watching Almraiven sleep through the parted veils of his overhanging balcony as he sipped a dark tea that his servants grew in the vegetable garden.

Though it was illuminated only by starlight, Vicelord Adir Telth'zol clearly saw its paved streets from his vantage on the third floor of his manor, saw the beggars and pickpockets as frequently as patrolling soldiers, which shooed the former away from the more reputable houses.

The rest, they let be. The vermin were ubiquitous to both the rich and poor sections of the city, his city.

Smiling, though Almraiven only rarely brought up pleasant notions, Adir considered his meal; dry, seasoned chicken cutlets, flatbread and hummus, and garlic-pickle chutney. The fare, while fairly simple, was his favorite. The herbs used in the meat helped dull the foul taste that his work left in his mouth, literally and metaphorically.

As a necromancer, his materials were not always...pleasant to the senses.

But he managed. He had weathered Calimshan's worst and emerged the stronger because of it, carving out his own little niche in the city of spells.

His wives, all three, lounged behind him, on the bed or seated apart, preoccupied with their after-dinner proclivities.

Gamori read by candlelight, Habibah strummed a rosewood viol, and Minnah carved ivory scrimshaw; a rather fine detailing of a lion seated atop a geometric platform. All were Half-Elves, bred from captured Elves and native Humans and sold for their beauty and longevity, for purebloods were difficult to find this far south.

He would outlive all of them by several centuries.

That was fine; they had little in common anyway. In fact, two of three outright detested him. He had accepted their hands in marriage only for the contacts among their masters' organizations.

But then a Sun Elf, one skilled in the magic of life and death, he would outlive most mortals anyway. It was his greatest resource, time, to which his human rivals had so little to spend. Some of the other Vicelords were stronger than him, indeed, much stronger. More rooted to the city and its official and hidden hierarchies. But they had decades, at best, and he had centuries, millennia.

One way or another, he would be the last Vicelord in Almraiven. He, an Elf, would rule a land of Humans.

All he had was time. Time to watch, and wait, and enjoy...

Chapter 1

Almraiven, Calimshan (30th of Uktar, 1379 Dalereckoning)

Vala had lamented the course of her life up until this point.

A lifetime spent on the run. From Lloth. From Eilistraee. From her nightmares; dreams of blood, and death. Dreams of her mother, an orcen slave, who had died to save her life. Dreams of her father, likely an Oblodra Dark Elf, though she had never known him and likely never would.

From Menzoberranzan to Waterdeep, and from Waterdeep, to Almraiven.

A lifetime's worth, to be sure.

But that had changed, it seemed, for the last three years had been spent in the same place, the longest she had been idle since the age of ten.

Three years, marking her newfound adulthood, in a city of vice.

Vala had learned this city and its people well; their language, their gods, and their treasures.

Especially their treasures.

She had stolen to survive, stolen food and water. She had stolen medicine when she found herself afflicted with surface ailments; a cold that caused her to seep fluid, a heat that made her vomit.

She took herbs that helped her to sleep, diluted them into a tea to drink almost nightly. It kept Nobody from taking over completely.

She had accustomed fully to starlight. It no longer caused pinpricks of pain when she looked directly at Selûne's tears. She never moved by day. By day, she hid in a small loft she had purchased from a shifty tavern keeper.

She had wanted a cabin on the shoreline, perhaps a mile or two from the city itself. There were a few that had caught her eye; rustic, but solid. She could spend all night watching the stars, listening to the waves...

A pity she needed to be close to her work. Perhaps when she perfected long range teleportation...

Her base set, albeit begrudgingly, in the city limits, she had stolen for wealth. A golden locket filched from a noble lady's jewelry box. A fine dress sword pulled from a gentleman's sheathe.

She had stashed the loot, waited weeks, even months, and sold them on the street, hidden by cloak and illusion.

Not once had she shown her face.

But strangely, she had noticed, her accent had changed, to become more in line with the humans of this realm. Her peculiarities diminished. She began to look and feel at place in the desert of Calimshan. Her presence provoked fewer and fewer second glances.

But still the guilds of thieves had taken notice.

A halfling, Barboris, had accosted her one day, and offered to fence her goods safely for a percentage.

As it took away the need to walk in the blistering heat of day, Vala had accepted the arrangement. Now, she stole particular goods for him, every night. She walked through walls into palaces, twisted the minds around her to accept whatever she wanted them to. Sometimes, she pinned her crimes on others, implanting false memories on the guards.

She chose bad people for that; pirates, slavers, soldiers. There were always soldiers that took what they pleased from the people in the poorer districts, including the one she housed herself in.

Their cries of innocence went unheeded. This land was cold, despite the warmth of its golden sands.

For Ahriman el Jhotos, Archmage and King of Almraiven, offered no mercy to criminals, save those in his employ that acted at his behest.

He was the son of the late Acham el Jhotos, whose full name was Acham yn Aban el Jhotos the Weavepasha, who was also a mighty wizard and the ruler of Almraiven. He was considered to be one of the most powerful mortals alive, and his entire life had been dedicated to defending the city of Almraiven from Djinn, Efreet, and other menaces that had and presently still plagued it

The son had not taken after the father.

After the legend's death at the hands of Almraiven's enemies, Ahriman had seized power, and in his shadows, the Vicelords had slowly taken over the city, rising from common mobsters to dukes in their own right.

The home of a known abolitionist had become one of the greatest slave markets in Calimshan.

A tragedy in two acts. One that she had little time for.

Few asked for her name. She called herself Nobody when that happened, though she found that she was neither Vala nor Nobody in full; she possessed both Nobody's instinct and Vala's intelligence.

And now, with a cache of loot, enough to retire, she stole for something else.

Her nerves were jittery when she even considered it.

Stories told of a magical amulet worn by King Ahriman himself. Called the Eternity Ruby, it was created with the blood of chromatic dragons, and blessed by Io, The Great Eternal Wheel, God of all Dragons.

It was said to bestow true invulnerability onto its wielder; so long as they possessed the amulet, sword and spell would not hinder him, nor would plague or poison, nor would time itself.

She wanted that power; she trained nightly atop the tavern's roof, hidden by telepathic illusions, until her skin was beaded with sweat, until her eyes bled with the pressure her brain was exerting onto itself, in order to grow strong enough to seize it.

She knew now her path; Nezierre had been right. Vala, or Nobody, was alone wherever she went.

So she would become strong, strong enough that even alone, nothing could harm her again. Nothing.

Then, maybe she could focus on changing things...for she did not want to be alone.

She could not use that power to change herself, so she would use that power to change the world instead. With the amulet, and the might of her psionics, she would reshape the world itself to suit her desires.

Vala, or Nobody, looked to the night sky, and decided it was a fine night to seize another trinket. New powers had opened themselves to her, and she was eager to experiment.

...

They watched, in silence.

Yes, she was the one.

The one they had waited for.

Years of preparation.

Diligence.

Sacrifice.

With her, they would prepare the way.

The way for change. The right to new leadership.

Almraiven would be theirs.

...

Vala, or Nobody, waited patiently for Barboris' men to arrive to claim her week's spoils; a heavy pouch of gems torn from a great many articles of jewelry, bars of gold and silver, melted from the same, elegant silk tapestries and cloaks, and anything else that was inexact enough to be difficult to trace back to their rightful owners.

The more she saw hidden inside those houses...the more she came to hate the human nobility of this realm. People starved in the streets, and they created a pile of their own worthless excess to feel personal value in this world. It reminded her of the priestesses of Lloth, in a way.

For her part, she kept only the funds towards purchasing powerful enchantments to augment her psionics, her armor, her medicines and food, some supplies in which to draw, and a straw mattress. For the moment, she needed little else.

Just the ruby...

She started, seeing a human approach, though he was cloaked, like her.

"Her eye is the deepest darkness." Vala said, reciting a blasphemous reference to Shar, the Lady of Loss, Barboris' matron deity. It was their secret, pre-arranged code. The proper response was, "Those under her gaze are hidden from sight."

But the human chuckled instead, "I am not here on guild business, Girl."

She flinched; her voice was masked, neither masculine, nor feminine. How had he known that?

"I have a job for you."

"The guild frowns on freelance work. Goodbye."

She turned to leave. She could deliver on another day.

"You want the ruby, right?"

She stopped.

"I know a good way to get it."

She looked back to him, though neither could see each other's faces.

"Yes?"

"I need you to steal a few things for me." he continued, "Special things. From the Vicelords. Rattle them, a little. Get the king involved. Interested?"

"To trifle with the Vicelords is death." she replied.

Not once, in the years she had been here, had she dared steal from them. Members of Ahirman's court, maybe. Passing diplomats and dignitaries, certainly.

But not them. Each was a wizard, and wizards were not to be trifled with.

But was she not prepared for that? Was she not prepared to risk the King's Ire for his greatest treasure?

"Tell me more, then." she said finally, exasperated. Let her see, then, if she was indeed ready.

...

"Have ye heard what the fuss is about?" a half-drunken dock worker chortled around his mug, "Has the underbelly abuzz, it does."

His fellow, a man with perhaps three of his teeth left, and none of them long for this world, chuckled, "Aye, heard Amon lost his sword about a tenday ago. The fellow burned half of his retinue alive trying to recover it."

Another listened to their conversation, if only by proxy. He had many eyes and ears in Almraiven, his city.

And many that were not of the living...

Focusing on this particular specimen, which perched atop one of the common eateries in the dock quarter, Vicelord Adir Telth'zol listened in as they jested about more banal developments. It appeared that they did not intend to discuss the theft in more detail.

Pity.

Disappointed, but intrigued, Adir allowed himself a moment of sympathy for his uneasy ally as he considered the artifact; the Sword of Bahamut. A greatsword of legendary accolade, it was forged from the fire of Bahamut and the hammer of the Dwarf god Moradin for the purpose of killing evil Dragons. It was said that if one of good Dragon blood or a Paonil wielded it, then its true potential would show. This had been true, if the stories could be believed. Once per a day the wielder could speak a key word, "Bahamut", even the slightest touch could instantly kill one of evil draconic blood, be it Dragon, Half-Dragon, or so on.

But Amon, a true genius in the ways of summoning, binding, and transmuting, had found a way to pervert its original enchantment with demonic blood and the sacrifice of a celestial being. The sword had been re-forged to grievously injure demons, even allowing him to kill one on Toril, where otherwise they would return to their home plane and rebirth. The sword also retained its potential to cause instant death. But this effect also extended to mortals, and immortal beings of goodly nature, thanks to his tampering. Bestowed to one of his demonic subjects, much could be achieved with such a powerful artifact.

Could have been achieved, he reminded himself.

"That is troubling." Adir confessed to himself, scratching his pointed ears, "I foresee much bloodshed following this theft. Perhaps I will seek out the artifact myself, the better to wield it justly, or conceal it from those that would use it recklessly."

...

The next night, she was already prepared to seize the next item.

In ectoplasm form, she crept through the walls of the palace of Erona Firelash, a Vicelord and mistress of destructive magic. And a hypocrite, given her association with Selûne, a goodly god that Vala had been familiar with among Eilistraee's coven.

Dauntless, she slid between the levels of the manse, inside of the walls, using instinct and the perceptions of the weaker minds within to guide her.

Surface fortresses paled in comparison to the intricacy of a Drow stronghold; it spoke wonders of her people's dedication to their paranoia. She could have done this heist in her sleep.

She did not seek out the lady's bedchambers. She knew the item in question to be far too dangerous for that. And so, without hesitation, she descended to the basement.

A relic of a passed age when the gods walked the earth, the weapon was no blade or staff. It was within a protective crystal cube, reinforced with Adamantine. It hovered in the precise center of the cube. The very slightest disturbance might cause the item, a black orb that absorbed light, to touch the edges of its containment.

Were that to happen...

The cube was welded to a pedestal, which was in turn bolted and welded to the ground. A quick shift into intangibility had revealed that the entire floor was securely affixed to the support columns of the manor, preventing even an earthquake from shaking the pedestal. The cube was not meant to contain the orb, far from it! It was intended to protect the Vicelord's manor from it, for this most dangerous object was an Orb of Annihilation; a hole into the crushing void between the worlds.

If anything were to touch it, even the hand of a divine being, it would cease to be. Forever.

Knowing that the alarm spells of the host would activate the moment the pedestal was touched, Vala opened a dimensional door, created by untraceable psionic energy, and willed it over herself, setting foot on the astral plane. Knowing she would only have seconds, she willed the door about the pedestal, closing it in such a way to slice the object from its position.

The room beyond the doorway brightened, likely the precursor to a fire-based spell, so Vala sealed the door, deactivating it, before opening another to her room in Almraiven's slums, weary beyond measure at the rapid use of her powers.

The rage bubbled up in her veins, but she suppressed it with sheer force of will.

Nearly there. She was nearly there.

The orb she left where it stood. None save a Psion attuned to her life energies could reach it. It had just disappeared from the face of Toril.

Until she gave it to its buyer, of course.

...

Adir heard the news as he sipped his morning Tea. One of his servants returned with a missive, its blood red seal marked with Selûne below a thunderbolt.

There was only one person of remark who worshiped the moon goddess and the thunderer...

He broke the seal with the elongated nail of his little finger, which, unlike the rest, was filed to a point. Perusing its contents, he sighed, "Erona wishes to speak to me. She wants it public. Well, that means she will be more pleasant and amiable to reason than usual."

...

He found her in the bazaar.

She sat in the outer pavilion of a well known eatery, though not one he generally attended.

She had the common dark skin, brown eyes, and black hair of a native of Calimshan. Short and thin, she was attractive, in a purely physical sense, though her constant scowl lessened her beauty, as did her unwillingness to wear the trappings of a Calimshan female.

Instead, she wore layered robes of black silk. A coat of golden mail peek up from under its folds.

Her hair flowed freely, in a mane that draped down her shoulders. Her eyes were wild, the more so when they settled on him.

She beckoned him over. Her guards were not present, so he left his behind, across the way, taking a seat opposite to her.

"Adir..." she said calmly, not offering any honorific.

"Erona." he replied, equally lacking proper etiquette.

"You took something of mine." she continued, unmindful of the nervous stares that the other patrons gave them. It was rare indeed when they sat and talked.

Generally, each was trying to overpower the other and rout their soldiers from the city. Adir did not approve of her reckless experimentation, which often resulted in burned down buildings in the poorer districts, and she, in turn, did not approve of his safer but more socially uncouth necromantic rituals. Neither was in particularly good standing with the people, so Ahriman had allowed their (mostly) bloodless feud.

"Took something?" Adir asked, perplexed, "Could you be specific?"

"You know damned well!" she snapped, earning more stares. Her temper was well renowned, even among wizards.

"No, I don't..." he persisted, all innocence, "I heard Amon lost his sword. I will guess then that you lost something too? Something important?"

"Shut up." she replied, taking a sip from her glass. Several empty ones littered the table.

That was bad. Very bad.

He considered the layers of defensive enchantments about his person. Solid...it never hurt to set precautions, and he was especially grateful he had thought to do so.

"You are here to gloat, I think. You would not dare risk yourself unless you had my weapon."

The Orb. Somebody stole her orb, the greatest destructive enchantment she possessed.

In recent years, he had finally managed an advantage over her. He had bribed or blackmailed half of her soldiers from her house, cut off her best suppliers of slaves and ships, and gained new and terrible necromantic powers that might very well allow him to dominate her in a direct confrontation.

The Orb was the only think keeping him from initiating an attack. Very...interesting...

"So now I have only one recourse..." she said, and it occurred to him that her right hand had been under the table the entire conversation. He had subconsciously dismissed it, since she cast with her left.

But left-handed people often displayed ambidextrous behavior.

He readied an enchantment that nullified hostile magic just as she completed her incantation.

Fire washed over his body, covered the entire pavilion, and incinerated dozens of minor nobles and common servants. Men and women screamed, burned, and perished.

Commoners outside of the blast radius screamed and fled.

"Die, outsider!" she hissed, lunging from the table and thrusting forward with a concentrated sliver of brightly glowing energy.

His Gloomwing Aura triggered; a pair of velvet insect wings, obsidian black tinged with bone white, crossed over him, muting the energy and weakening its wielder with a cloud of noxious spores. Nonetheless, her own body emanated blistering heat, which seared the wings away along with the organic spores.

He had already risen to his feet, knocking over the chair in the process, calling upon a score of petrified bones that orbited his body.

Animating the ground itself with the spirits of the dead, a pair of corrupted earth elementals rose up, their surfaces dotted with grave moss and tombstones, their faces like hollowed, jawless skulls.

Their shoulders level with the nearest rooftops, they lumbered towards Erona, while a column of frozen lightning materialized in her hand, like a jagged, zigzagging javelin. She hurled it towards him, and he willed the bones to cross over each other, forming an aegis to intercept. When it struck, the ground itself shook. But his wards held true, and the bold deflected.

Into a nearby building.

"Shit!" Adir cursed, wincing as its shutters blew outward, as its interior glowed brightly, filled with terrified shrieks, before going dark and silent.

"STOP THIS, ERONA!" Adir snapped, a pea sized orb of dark energy gathering at his fingertips, "The street is no place for a spell duel!"

"SO I WILL END IT NOW!" Erona retorted, a wand appearing in either hand. She discharged powerful abjurations into each of his elementals, which crumbled apart into raw material.

Adir hurled the sphere into her, which detonated outward in a cloud of draining necrotic energy which extinguished life. The sand under her feet blackened, became defiled.

But her own formidable defenses protected her.

That was fine. It gave him the time he needed to complete another pass of his hand, activating and consuming a valuable spell scroll in his belt. A dimensional door opened beneath Erona's feet, then rose up as she attempted to activate a levitation enchantment.

She raged as the portal swallowed her, and closed, sealing her in a pocket of Thanatos, the 113th known layer of the Abyss.

Once the realm of Orcus, the now deceased Demon Prince of Undeath, it was an empty realm of thin air and a black, moonlit sky, a place that belonged as much to the undead as to the Tanar'ri. Thus, a valuable resource to harvest components for his rituals.

"Sabih..." he said over his shoulder, seeing that his soldiers had remained within eyeshot, finding a defensible spot in an adjacent alleyway. Erona's own had fled. Threats alone could not compare to the magical geas he had placed on each of his servants.

His captain of the guard, a grizzled veteran in his middling years, approached and bowed, awaiting orders.

"Recall our men." Adir commanded, considering his next steps, "Lock down the manor and prepare for war. Erona will not remain idle for long."

"Did you not banish her to the abyss?" Sabih asked, to which the Vicelord shrugged, "She has the resources to have a portal spell ready, but it will likely transport her to her manor, on the other side of the city. I have bought us hours, at best."

In small groups, commoners looked out from their homes, at first terrified, and then indignant.

Their whimpers became disconsolate muttering.

"Time to go." he noted, watching them begin to gather around the edges of their battleground, their faces angry, "Get them home quickly."

As his men departed, and angry shouts rose in volume as the crowd took in the sights of their dead, the dozen or so burned homes, and an ill-considered Vicelord right in the middle of it.
Lacking his amulet, which allowed more varied teleportation, he sighed, redoubled his wards, and followed after them.

"Well then...it seems I must discover who has been riling my peers lately. I would not want anything of mine to disappear as well." he thought to himself, wondering if he would need to defend his home from the more mundane hazards of Almraiven...

...

Unlike the others, she did not wait for nightfall. The master of the house was away, and now might be her best opportunity.

Again, she slid through the walls of the manse, minding the peculiar statuary lining its support columns and windows.

Sculpted from basalt, the statues looked like winged Goblins with leering, glinting eyes. She felt magic about them, and that unsettled her far more than their ghastly appearance.

She made her way up the three-story manor, intangible and masked from the naked eye with an aura that slightly bent light and shadow, making her significantly harder to spot.

Rising straight up the outer walls of the manse, she pushed herself forward by levitation, and found herself in perhaps the finest room she had even entered.

It occurred to her that Adir's blowsy mistresses might have been present. Thankfully, they were not, and she could admire what she saw in peace.

Almost perfectly circular in shape, it had black marble floors interlaced with white accents and a roof that was of identical material save for a glass skyline from which she peered up to. The walls, a fine stone brick, were covered with hanging portraits, racks that held many curiosities such as books, alchemical glassware, odd mechanical devices, and objects of no apparent functionality. She noticed a high concentration of sea shells and preserved sea life among the paraphernalia; starfish, tangles of coral-like material called sea fans, seahorses, and small lengths of wrapped cord holding shark teeth.

She ignored the curiosities; the buyer had assured her it would be under a particular convergence of the white veins in the marble floor. Seeking a Y-pattern with a crescent basin, it took her a hundred count to spot, so subtle were the patterns of the worked stone.

This object did not reside in the floor...but the trigger for its summoning did. Pushing her hand in after shifting back into ectoplasm, Vala willed a small shard of psicrystal to penetrate a thin membrane hidden inside the stone.

With a rush of displaced air and a disembodied moan, the artifact materialized onto the floor.

Most knew to recognize a wizard's spell tome, into which they imparted the necessary information from which to perform their craft. Thus, most would have mistaken this fabulously ornamented dark leather-bound tome to be the work of a master wizard.

Thanks to the buyer and her own research, Vala knew better.

What she held in her hands was an artifact; the Codex of Infinite Planes. The artifact, the sentient artifact, would periodically grant its owner immensely powerful new spells without cost, mostly in the school of summoning and controlling powerful elemental spirits, requiring only the time necessary for the owner to absorb its knowledge.

For most, they said, it took years to master even one of its imparted techniques. Since Adir was an Elf, and could live for centuries, she assumed he had learned quite a few already.

That made her hesitate to actually complete the theft. But only for a moment.

She remembered her goal, and her desires, and that was all the reason she needed to carry through with the audacity or robbing each of the Vicelords and sowing chaos throughout Almraiven.

All for the ruby. All for the protection it offered.
She took her prize and was gone long before midday.

...

He was at a loss.

Adir considered the empty pocket within a fold of space hidden in his personal chambers, scratching his chin. No tool marks. No dispelling powder. No magical residue.

"Sir..." Sabih said nervously, "Should we not attend the riots?"

Erona's attempted assassination had left the city in an uproar. Over thirty commoners had died, mostly indentured servants, but worse, a major noble of Ahriman's court had perished as well. The nobles had wasted no time in organizing the city guard, adding to the hysteria.

"Send the soldiers in." Adir said with a dismissive wave of the hand, "The rabble will always find an excuse for civil disobedience. Such is the nature of those who are oppressed and malcontent because of it. It will pass. It always does. They will stomp and rage, but will also lose their steam, and return to their homes to sulk."

"The real issue is this..." Adir continued, thoughtful, "First Amon, then Erona, then myself. This is no mere shelf-sweeper. These thefts are meant to be interpreted as a message, a threat, a question of the Vicelord's authority."

"This was a political attack." he concluded.

"But who could have done this?" the soldier asked, nonetheless motioning for Rafid to carry the message, which would be relayed to the Undercaptain of the Guard.

Adir was not concerned; the citizens were enraged, but not so much as to cross onto his property. They hurled rotten food and excrement, even a burning brand or two, but his day laborers would clear the mess in the morning.

His undead sentries would repel an attack, even on the bunkhouse which housed his slaves.

Shrugging, Adir readied his talismans in preparation to contact the spirit world.

He was no diviner, but had his own means of obtaining information when all other methods failed...

...

Vala accepted her payment; thousands of espedrilles, the currency of Calimshan, as well as over a dozen articles of jewelry, likely stolen from petty lords and ladies from across the region. More accurately, she seized the items and moved them through her dimensional door and into the astral safehouse she had created. When the deposit box afforded to her was empty, she again became intangible, and slid through the walls of the bank and into an adjacent alleyway.

She was nearly ready. Her buyer had assured her the time for a revolt was near. She would use the chaos to infiltrate the palace, and claim her prize.

Through the ruin of the Vicelords, who embodied everything she had fought in the Matron Mothers and the Slave Traders of Skullport, she would have wealth and power enough to forge her own destiny.

At long last, she would be free, at peace. At long last, she would be beyond the cruelties of fate.

She knew she would sleep soundly this night. Her mother's voice would not echo in her dreams...

...

...Adir stood over the Half-Drow as she slept, hidden by complex illusions purchased at great expense from one of his more amiable rivals. A divination aura, his own work, allowed him to perceive facts beyond base surface details, thanks to a latent connection with several spirits he had bound into his service.

Thus, as he had managed to trace the thief to this building, he knew that he looked upon a disgraced servant of Eilistraee, the Dark Maiden and matron deity of many surface Drow. In her footlocker, he knew he would find spare clothing, a stack of coal sketches on cheap parchment, and a flute made from a hollow, polished ogre femur with its ends hewn off. Simple effects, but all the more telling.

The woman herself was very interesting on her own.

She woke a cloak, even while sleeping, but with his augmented perceptions, he could see her as if she were nude. He ignored her immodesty, more focused on her base features. Her lineage. Her dark ashen skin. Her innocent face. Her slender neck. The way she ground her teeth in her sleep. He was able to comprehend the sound of her voice, un-modulated. The exact hue of her eyes, even when closed. He knew that she was indeed a Psion, a born prodigy from noble blood. He inferred a good deal of who she was, what she was, and what she wanted, all in a matter of moments.

Much about this string of crimes became abundantly clear; she was a contract thief, not some lunatic trying to imbalance the city for their own ends. Their buyer was...warded, undetectable. Pity.

And for these heists she was to be rewarded with...

Hmm...interesting.

He had no idea that King Ahriman possessed such an interesting trinket...

This pertinent information he absorbed in stride, inferring what else he could before she awoke.

Too late.

She started, on her feet and wielding a conjured whipblade in less than a two-count. A half dozen jagged crystals orbited her body, trailing vaporizing ectoplasm that looked slightly like one's breath when standing in a cold environ.

She said nothing, but her eyes darted to and fro under the hood of her cloak. Despite the protections, he must have tripped one of her alarm spells, or the psionic equivalent thereof. She knew somebody was with her in the room, but not who or where.

"Well hello there, sleepy..." he said jovially, dispelling his invisibility and crossing his arms.

She tensed, but did not attack. He could hear her sharp intake of breath. She knew who he was.

She knew he could crush her, if he wanted to.

"Since we need not make introductions..." he continued, "You can sit back down, Vala. Take a load off. Lose the cloak. If I wanted to attack you, I could have done it while you were sleeping."

She obliged. Mostly.

"Take off the cloak." he repeated, watching as she sat back down at the foot of the bed.

He could sense, if not see, her fierce scowl, but she acquiesced, and her slender hands lifted the hood, revealing a familiar soft, rounded face, with full lips, large blue eyes, and a small button nose.

Seeing those eyes up close, too gentle to belong to a killer, he marveled at their brightness, and lamented at the deeply buried sadness in them.

"How?" she asked; many questions contained in one, her face neutral, hiding her fear.

It didn't help. He could sense it in her.

"I have my ways." Adir replied, considering the stool she kept wedged under the table, before flipping it over and sitting down, facing her, "Oh, and you need not worry. The codex was a trinket; difficult to replace, but ultimately expendable. I am much more interested in you, my dear. You have a very...unique...set of skills. To walk through walls, to manipulate the minds that you touch, and leave no trace that any wizard or cleric can detect... I have learned so much from your technique, even if I am no Psion myself. The experience constituted something of a fair trade for the loss of my property".

"Then why are you here?" she asked, to which he grinned, "I was hoping to employ you, actually. Do not pretend that your Guildmaster has given you enough work if you live like this, and take such risky side-business. I have a job for you, one of great difficulty, and great reward. I promise you, you will not want for wealth if you take this offer..."

He knew enough about her to know she would refuse right away; trust was something foreign to any Drow, especially this one.

"Also keep in mind that you have stolen from me. I may not be amiable to your hesitancy."

Her scowl deepened, "Fine. What do you want me to steal?"

"Later. I am also here to invite you to Pasha Ormat's revel in Memnon, north and west along the coast, halfway to Waterdeep. We can discuss this matter there. Free food, drink, and merriment. It will do well to prepare you for the job."

"I am not sure I-"

"Nonsense! Humor me, please. I promise it will be worth your while. Come as you...not as this..."Nobody" character."

"And wear something nice." he added, and was rewarded by the unveiled consternation on her face.

Lacking confidence...she was young, very young.

Probably less than twenty seasons of age.

And yet she was powerful enough to infiltrate the private manor of a Vicelord? A prodigy indeed.

"Fine." she replied testily, "When?"

"Two weeks time. You will need an invitation. Take this." Adir said, offering a small bronze token, depicting a pair of dolphins upright, with a small aquamarine dollop set between them.

She took the token, frowning as she studied it, before looking back to him, "I will be there. Now please, go away."

"It is a long trip up the coast to reach the city. I will be happy to provide-"

"I will find my own way to Memnon." Vala replied, "I will go to this revel, then, because you are so insistent. But I will decide if I wish to undertake the heist, and either way, you will trouble me no longer with past offenses."

"Deal." Adir said immediately, "I look forward to meeting you there, Vala."

"My name is Nobody." She replied coolly, "Vala does not exist."

"We will see." Adir said, smiling as a consumed reagent in his pouch emitted focused arcane energy, separating them by a cloud of mist before pulling him away to his manse.

...

She stared at the spot that the Vicelord had stood upon, trembling with mixed frustration and fear.

If he had learned of her existence...who else might be able to do the same?

Were her psionics not as untraceable as she had been led to believe?

Her first impulse was to flee the city. She could take what she had and live like a Matron Mother for much of the rest of her life. She could go back aboard Shallow's End, or return to the Promenade, or seek shelter in any of the distant realms.

No.

If Adir could find her here...he could find her anywhere. She was not safe if she refused.

Sevren had spoken wisely in warning her against just this course those years ago.

She ground her first into the wall, snarling.

There was no choice; she would go to Memnon, and see what he had in mind...

Chapter 2

Memnon, Calimshan (11th of Nightal, 1379 Dalereckoning)

Adir attended the revel as a guest of honor in Pasha Ormat's private estate, his first time entering his friend's newly constructed home.

He was not disappointed.

His erstwhile ally had built a fine palace along Memnon's Dock ward; the two story manor was actually placed over the pier, compensating for its lack of height and floors with a truly unique design. The structure, roughly rectangular, was over two bowshots wide and twice that in length, the first floor featuring a high roof, concealing the second level, which he knew was mostly consisting of private rooms, the ones at the ends nearest to the stairwells being servant's quarters, the ones closest to the center belonging to the Pasha and his personal retinue.

In the main floor, there was a grand hallway, with a rectangular table long enough to comfortably accommodate over two dozen, with the pasha's seat dead center and facing the ornamented double doors in the antechamber. The walls were ribbed, constructed of pure white marble. Their many flying buttresses, a very rare architectural flourish this far south, were intricately carved into the likeness of dolphins, their noses touching a horizontally-facing beam that ran from end to end.

The many windows, rectangular save for an almost spade-shaped point at their apex, were constructed of pieces of colored glass, mostly in shades of dark blue, aqua, violet, and purple, conjoined by dark metal railing to create vivid murals depicting sea life and clear skies, though the largest specimen, directly behind the Pasha's seat, depicted a sea at storm; wild, crashing waves beneath a dark cloud alight with thunderbolts.

The numerous lanterns were covered by lightly tinted blue glass, and the embers burning from the massive candelabra over the table were also blue, likely by spell, casting a slight color over everything in the chamber.

The floor of much of the main hall was actually magically hardened glass, the better to view the waters below them, matching the sea motif. With the heavy octagonal stone supports hidden from sight or stylized with curving architecture, hundreds of Glowballs swam through the surprisingly deep shoreline to reveal hundreds of fish and a great many-tiered garden of multicolored coral.

The Pasha himself perfectly fit his decor; at a distance, he looked almost like a Sea Elf, with his light blue skin, stark white hair which he tied in a single topknot that reached the back of his thighs, and his pale white eyes, which lacked pupils or corneas. But Adir knew him to be a Water Genasi, the rare breeding between a Human and an extra planar Elemental, in this case a being from the evil realm of Olhydra.

But like Adir, Ormat took what he needed, and what he willed, with a zest for life that few could match in this grim, sullen world. The fellow's cavalier, easygoing attitude starkly contrasted with his sinister origins, and also his affiliation with the Kraken Society; a secretive guild of sorts that unofficially rivaled the Zhentarim in size and influence.

He sat beside Adir in one of the many private balconies elevated slightly above the floor, lining the walls on all sides. He sat cross-legged atop his chair on the opposite side of a circular table of clear glass, shirtless and barefooted, the better to display the thick dark tattooing all across his arms, shoulders, and torso. His loose black pantaloons were belted with a thick metal cinch, from which hung many jeweled talismans, one of which Adir noticed with some surprise was a holy symbol of Deep Sashelas. His sword, a richly ornamented and bejeweled scimitar, was also sheathed there in a dark oaken scabbard decorated with golden filigree.

The necromancer did not however dismiss that sword as merely ornamental, mostly because he had seen the fellow dice a Sahuagin into confetti with it in under a ten count.

Still, he eyed the holy symbol with curiosity; a gold dolphin with aquamarine eyes, his scrutiny catching Ormat's attention. The fellow hefted the ornament with an embarrassed grin, "I met with an envoy from the Sea of Fallen Stars, who...how shall I say...introduced me to the undersea god of knowledge and beauty. I undertook the rites as priest shortly before constructing my palace in which we sit."

"The Dread Captain becomes a humble priest?" Adir said with mock derision, "You are growing soft in your old age, my friend."

Pasha Ormat chuckled, "Oh, and what of you, Lord Adir? Have you reconsidered worship of Corellon Larethian yet? Any intentions in joining me in Arvandor in death, or were you leaning towards Orcus?"

"I am afraid Orcus is dead, my friend, slain by...oh hells, what was her name again? Odd. Anyway, all that time in the ocean must have separated you from current events to allow you to miss such developments."

They shared a laugh as the server delivered a gleaming silver pitcher.

Adir took hold and pulled, dragging it from Ormat's iron grip with a heavy grunt before pouring himself a glass. The light, fizzy wine, clear white with a slight yellow tint, filled the glass to an acceptable level, and he in turn poured for his friend, feigning overflowing the glass with the fine vintage before drawing back at roughly ninety percent to capacity.

"Such a strange color..." he noted, swirling the glass and inhaling its bouquet; citrus peel, green apple, and grapefruit, "Wherever did you get it?"

"Waterdeep." he replied, taking a light sip, "Imported from Cormanthyr. The Elves managed to breed a new type of grape in the soil of their coolest regions, in turn, allowing for a new type of wine. I like this better than most; dark reds weigh you down like eating too much beef. Try it."

Sampling the vintage, Adir nodded at its tart flavor and light, bubbly body. Earthy, with a hint of mild fruit. A citrus aftertaste.

"Is this aged?" Adir asked, curious, and Ormat shook his head, "That is the beauty of it; this grape does not need to be aged for long to develop its flavor. Thus, it can be made with quality for a modest price. Just you wait; importing this and selling it to the commoners of all of Calimshan will make me a very wealthy man."

Sparing a glance around the fellow's abode, Adir made a grand, deprecating gesture about the hall, earning another laugh, "Well, more wealthy. My association with the land-faring Elves needs to count for something, after all. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough. I must say, you have done well. The house is marvelous. I wish I had thought of something similar."

Smiling, the Genasi motioned all about him, "It is my tribute to Deep Sashelas. I am thinking of commissioning a temple in his name. Something that will accommodate both a terrestrial communion, and perhaps a lower platform that will reach into the waters, the better to allow my gilled brethren to attend as well. Perhaps Memnon's sailors will find the lord of dolphins a better patron than that unpredictable bitch Umberlee."

As he said that, the Genasi made a warding gesture with his fingertip, eyes darting about nervously.

No man who had ever sailed aboard a ship took that one's anger lightly...

"Well, best of luck to you." Adir replied honestly, "Let me know if you need a hand with that."

"My gratitude." Ormat said, taking another sip of wine and considering the floor below, on which several pairs of men and women, their garb of northern make, began to engage in a slow, rhythmic dance, waltzing about a central axis, "So tell me of this woman you had asked me to invite. Another...prospective?"

Adir chuckled, "Vala? Perhaps. A real firebrand, that one, though you would not know to look at her. Might be a little wild for me."

"Exult in the ever-changing beauty of life." Ormat replied seriously, reciting a holy passage of his god, "Revel in the joy of creation and increase its myriad aspects. Follow the way of the dolphin, my friend. It will not lead you astray."

"Good advice, that." Adir conceded, "She will likely be along shortly, and you can comprehend what you will. Now then, what is the main course tonight? Fish or fowl. I know you dislike pork, after that...unfortunate incident in the isles, and I never had the taste for it myself..."

...

"I have the invitation. Are you going to let me pass or not?"

The Human blanched as she held him the envelope, containing the token, and refused to take it, as if it were on fire.

"Yes, well. Go in, then. You can leave your cloak with the attendants."

Nodding, she set down her cloak, and strode in with more confidence on display than she actually felt.

Let her see where this went...

...

"Well, well, well..." Pasha Ormat chuckled beside him, playfully jabbing at his shoulder, "You sly dog."

Adir only grinned over the rim of his glass as the entire procession ground to a halt. Hushed conversations ceased. The minstrels stopped playing. The acrobats wavered in their motions to gawk. The jugglers found their articles crashing to the floor, be them wooden balls, glassware, or even torches, slipping from shaking hands. One poor fellow set his shoe on fire, and stomped about impotently to extinguish it, his shrieks the only sound in the room.

Vala stepped away from the attendants, walking down the hall in a simply cut but nonetheless lavish gown of pale white silk. It hung loosely from her shoulders, and was supported by a finely embroidered corset with silver threading.

She wore no jewelry, not in the proper sense; a gorget and a pair of bracelets composed of jagged dark blue psicrystal complemented her wardrobe, appearing almost like strung animal teeth. A trio of larger psicrystals hovered in place behind her back, emitting some manner of vapor that formed an opaque, trailing cloak about her person.

She neither possessed or needed makeup or set hair to be the most beautiful woman in the room; beautiful, exotic, and fierce. A thief had, for a moment, become a warrior goddess.

And yet...

Though she appeared outwardly disinterested by her surroundings, walking through the crowd as if she barely noticed their gawking, Adir could see the telltale signs of her agitation; the tenseness of her back, the rigidity of her stride, and the minute shift in her expression when she got too close to one or more of the nobles or their nervous attendants.

Vala was unsettled by what she saw; likely, she had little exposure to nobility in her life. Not to say that she had lived as a commoner...she had seen enough, enough in a negative light to cause her distress. A thrall, then?

Her eyes scanned the room, on the surface unaffected by the caustic, unflattering scrutiny. When her eyes fixed upon him, they narrowed dangerously, though her face remained perfectly impassive.

Oh yes, definitely an escaped slave. Her anger emanated in palpable waves.

Some activity and enthusiasm returned to the throng of partygoers as she ascended a small flight of steps and took a seat at his small, private table, but not much.

Many eyes were still upon them.

"Well done." Adir said, unable to hide his smile, "You just became the talk of the party, and you did not say a word. I think you have a knack for this, Vala."

"You wanted to discuss business?" she asked, though it was hardly a question. She looked irritated that he had used her real name.

Forceful. Aggressive. He had not thought her to be so thoroughly distressed.

Interesting.

Oh, yes. He made his decision, and gave a short nod to Ormat. He returned the gesture.

"Soon enough, my dear. Sit. Eat. Drink. Mingle with your hosts; Pasha Ormat spent great expense to fund this event, in honor of the completion of this palace."

She frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged, taking the seat with her back to the wall, the two of them on either side and the railing behind them.

Ormat raised an eyebrow at her behavior, and chuckled, snapping his fingers and calling over a pair of black-garbed servants, whispering a short, clipped sentence before sending them away.

Vala waited for him to say something else, but he let the silence stretch, testing her.

Finally, she blinked, then, "Your house is very nice, Ormat. You must be pleased."

Ormat nodded, "Aye. It will do well to instill some much deserved envy from both my rivals and my benefactors. From where do you hail, I wonder?"

"Almraiven."

"Could you be more specific."

"No."

He laughed, "I like her, Adir. Where did you find this one?"

The servants returned, bearing a trio of covered silver platters.

"Around." the Elf replied, "Very well, milady. We can get to business, if you have no time for pleasure."

"What is the prize, then?" she asked, considering her plate as the servants set it down; blackened fish topped with green onion, beside yellow squash and zucchini sautéed with garlic, dill, and crushed pepper.

A second, smaller plate featured a traditional dessert fare; baklawa, a sweet, nutty meal of almond, pistachio, and brown sugar, compressed into breaded cakes. Additional glasses of Ormat's wine were also delivered.

Adir hid his smile as the servant with Vala's glass, a well acclaimed pickpocket, deftly added an additional ingredient...

"A jewel." Adir said, waiting for the host to take the first bite, "Hardly unique for a theft, admittedly. But this is a...special request. It will be very difficult for you to deliver."

"Its dimensions?"

"Manageable."

She frowned, confused by his indirectness, "Defining color?"

"It has many colors."

Her frown deepened, then she considered Ormat, then the crowd below, and gave a slight nod, "Its value? I need a better description, even now."

"Absolutely priceless." Adir replied, "At least to me. Absolutely unique. Strong...shall we say, sentimental value? I will pay greatly to obtain it."

"Location?"

"It will be in Almraiven shortly."

"The reward?"

"Everything you have ever wanted." Adir replied simply, "Wealth. Security. A house by the sea. I will provide permanent lodging within Almraiven, and political immunity from your debtors and rivals."

"How did you...-"

"My school of magic offers me contacts in the spirit realm, which provides me interesting details of that which I see." he said, cutting her short, "Consider it like an improved divination. Yes, Vala, I had to learn more about you to consider your employment for this task. I prefer my...operatives, to be of a certain caliber. Surely, you can understand."

She grunted, "I dislike people looking into my affairs. Do not do so again."

Ormat coughed on his bite of fish, surprised by such directness against a fellow Pasha. Indeed, such rudeness might have warranted severe punishment with most of their peers. In another instance, Adir might indeed have disciplined one of his employees, even a freelance thief, which was generally allowed some measure of independence out of necessity.

Instead, he nodded, eyeing her, "Well enough. I have ascertained what I needed to, to take your measure."

"Security?"

"Minimal. Magical in nature."

"You know that I do not kill when on the job. That will not be an issue?"

"Not at all."

"Good. I trust you will be more prompt in providing the...particulars, at another time."

"Indeed. I wanted you here so that you could get out of your skin. I have humored you with being forthright, or at least as forthright as I could, as to not jeopardize the success of this heist. You could in turn humor me by trying the food and drink."

Her frown became a grimace.

"Come now. You already did half the work with the wardrobe. Eat your meal, and share a dance with me."

"I do not dance."

"Nonsense! A good thief is light on their feet. It will be easy for you."

...

Vala wanted very badly to say no.

She wanted to tell him off and be out the door in less than a hundred count. Disappear beneath her cloak, never to be seen again.

But she knew not to cross a wizard, let alone a co-ruler of an entire city. And the Genasi was an unknown element as well; a Pasha was the same as a Vicelord, and she had no idea what his strengths might be, save that they were considerable to amass such holdings.

Vala considered her plate, and settled on a bite of the fish. With a delicate silver fork, she separated a small filet; light pink under its dark surface, and tasted it.

She exhaled through her nose, finding a bouquet of flavors in its spices; tangy, peppery, and sweet. Taking a second, larger bite.

"Now that's better." Adir chided, turning to the Genasi, "This dish is marvelous, my friend. Isn't this your recipe...that one you tried to impress the Vaasan diplomat with...only to find that he was violently allergic to chives?"

"Hey, no fair!" Ormat snapped, grimacing, "How could I have known that? The prig was as tight-lipped as Ralan's spymasters. And he got better after a couple of hours; the sores had run their course."

"To answer your question..." he added sheepishly, taking a bite around a boyish grin that was nearly identical to Adir's own, "...Yes. I got the seasoning down just right, and advised my kitchen staff accordingly."

"You are a chef?" Vala asked, making conversation, "That seems like an odd craft for someone of your station."

Ormat shook his head, "Not at all. If you know how to make food, then you know how your food is made. Makes it easier to detect poisons through odd consistencies and flavors."

Shrugging, she was careful not to seem too eager to eat, remembering her grueling lessons with Irae on the matter of table etiquette. Every three or four bites, she gently wiped her mouth with a small kerchief, took a light sip of wine, then switched from main course to side, then back again.

Adir and Ormat chatted without her for a time, and hearing them jest like surface children, Vala found herself deeply unsettled by their familiarity. Did everyone talk like this here?

After the meal, she tried to slip away, claiming a light head from the wine.

Adir had replied only by sweeping her down the stairs to the main floor, where the circling scores of Humans had grown more lively with the ingestion of food and drink. They parted, albeit grudgingly, to accommodate them.

He locked eyes with her, one hand enclosing hers and the other slipping about the small of her back, and his body heat quickly became detectable through their clothing.

Vala felt herself flush, and nearly activated her powers in order to become intangible. She needed to get away. A telltale hum filled the air.

"Shhhh..." Adir whispered in her ear, far too close, "None of that now. Hear the music?"

She did; the minstrels had taken up harps, lutes, flutes, and drums, and had begun a slow, rhythmic tune, different than the ambience present earlier. The Sun Elf led her fully into the throng, twirling her about him while maintaining sure direction, his footsteps lithe and agile, and Vala was forced to call upon her later lessons with Alirana during Eilistraee's communions in order to match him.

"I knew it..." Adir chuckled, "You have the breeding and the education; you are a noble as much as a warrior and a thief. How odd that you chose this life. Were you seeking excitement?" he asked, reversing direction and slipping further into the crowd.

Vala found she could no longer see outside of the mass of bodies.

His hand pressed against the soft fabric of her gown, his fingers running along her spine. The flush feeling became worse. She attributed it to the wine; she had heard that alcohol had that effect on a person.

As she understood, however, it took far more than one glass...

"No..." she finally replied, nonplussed, dismissing the sensation as something more to do with Adir's uncomfortable proximity and his adventurous hands, "I needed something, and I knew that as I am, I could get it."

"Oh...?" Adir asked, his eyes lacking their usual mischief, "And what might that be?"

Why was he so insistent with this? And why was she even considering humoring him?

Why had she not long left this place, these people...?

"Power." she replied, "Not influence. Power; the strength to become more than I am. The power to do as I will. Protect who I will. Destroy who I will. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, actually." he replied, leaning forward and in turn forcing her to bend backward, their eyes still locked. Not once had he broken that stare.

The discomfort returned.

"You have been harmed..." he stated simply, "Only one who has come to mistrust fate wishes to take it into their own hands. I understand perfectly, Vala. I am happy to see that we share common philosophy."

"I do not think so." Vala replied coolly, trying to twist out of his grip without using her power.

What did a male, a slaver, think to have in common with her? The very notion was offensive.

Adir shrugged, lifting her up and resuming the dance, as if amused by her discomfort and her inability to push herself away. The elf's physical strength was impressive; he was not idle in his rule over Almraiven.

"And everything continues to fall into place..." Adir said, his grin returning, "It will do you no good, you know. The Eternity Ruby will not offer you what you want."

She scowled, planting her feet and throwing him off rhythm.

She slipped, and Adir held her up.

The room was spinning.

"The ruby cannot return to you what you have lost." he continued, unmindful, "And I assure you that you will never reach it. I am likely not the only person that discovered your identity. Barboris told me much of what I needed to make the proper inquiry, purchased at a hefty but quite attainable price for any of my peers".

Her legs buckled. Her skin was gooseflesh.

The music felt distorted somehow, but she could not seem to understand how. Colors became more vivid, and bled into each other.

"You should know not to take freelance work." he chided, his expression solemn, "But fear not; I have ensured your safety, and prepared a place for you. A safehouse, if you will, albeit in plain sight."

What was he talking about? Why did she feel so dizzy?

Vala tried again to reach for her powers, but found a peculiar haze settled over her mind, obscuring that invisible path...

It felt like a cloud of spores, covering her skin. There was an odor...like perfume. Almonds.

The heat grew stifling. She wanted to vomit, or lie down.

Nobody noticed as he gradually led her away from the crowd. That, or nobody cared.

"What is...what are you-"

They passed by their table. Ormat was leaning over the rail. He toasted them with his glass, grinning with a sort of mischief in his eyes that was more threatening than before.

"It is alright, Vala. You are just a little weak. Let me set you down outside."

He led her through a back entrance. He nodded to Ormat's attendants as he passed, and they closed the door behind them. There was a cold evening breeze. The smell of saltwater.

Up ahead, there was a long alleyway, though one that lacked the disorder and waste of most. Beside the manor was a storehouse, but they skirted it. At one end, behind them, was the sea, and before them, a carriage. Two other males guarded it. Their eyes narrowed as they looked upon her.

And in a moment, her instincts re-established themselves. She was a warrior of Eilistraee. She planted her feet again, and this time she held true.

She turned, twisting in his grip, and butted her head against Adir's nose, compressing it with a wet crunch.

He grunted, wavered, and that was all the opportunity she needed to slip from his grasp.

And plummet to the ground, though, to her, the ground had seemingly risen up to meet her.

She tried to lift herself to all fours, despite the fact that her surroundings were spinning, but the two men, armored in mail and marked with Adir's livery, had closed the distance, and dragged her to her feet.

"Easy. It is fine." Adir said hastily, circling around them, his hand over his nose. Blood ran down the lower half of his face, but he seemed to be only mildly troubled, "You should relax. The drugs should be running their course, and you do not want to overextend yourself."

Like hells she would!

She thrashed wildly, snarling, attempting to shear through the cloud settled around her mind. Like an adamantine blade, her panic bought her a moment of clear concentration, and a nimbus of bright light encircled her head.

She called upon her power to teleport her far away, felt a connection with the Astral Plane and the space native to Toril that she would jaunt to.

Adir barked a short incantation, and that connection severed.

A disjunction, meant to dissipate the energies of the weave that a wizard's spell focused in the moments of its use.

She wondered, distantly, how he had attuned his magic to target psionic powers, before the cloud again closed over her mind.

Vala screamed in frustration, wordless, though it sounded slurred and wet, drooling as her body went limp and they hoisted her into the carriage. Several moments seemed to pass in the time of one, and she was laying down atop a cushioned surface, Adir sitting over her.

He studied her intensely, and she heard the crack of a whip and felt herself in motion. The implied motion while her body was still made her want to vomit, but the cloud had thickened so fully about her mind that she could not command her muscles to obey her.

"Something is wrong, Sabih. Fetch the antidote."

She heard Adir's voice, but all she saw was darkness.

"Be still, Vala."

Something went down her mouth. She tried to constrict her throat, but her entire body felt numb.

She cleared her throat, and gurgled a reply, "Why are you doing this? How am I to complete your task?"

Adir pressed two fingers against the side of her throat, cursing under his breath, before replying, "You were never meant to deliver my prize, Vala. You are my prize. And fear not...I have no intention of damaging such a precious gem by allowing you to die here."

"...What?"

It was obvious, of course; there was no task. Adir meant to torture her in order to reclaim the codex. That, or he planned to make his own profit to compensate himself for its loss by taking her somewhere to collect a bounty or by selling her into slavery.

She could see again with absolute clarity, but only for a moment

Her vision darkened again after catching a glimpse of Adir turning to accept something from the window, and she knew no more.

Chapter 3

Calimshan (12th of Nightal, 1379 Dalereckoning)

Vala woke to the sound of a wheel grinding against a bad spoke. That regular sound of wood against iron helped to steady her. There were footsteps, a sharp intake of breath.

Pain.

Pain coursed through her body, spreading outward from her heart and over a numbness in her limbs, which lessened with every palpitation. It felt like frostbite, and the body fighting it off with fresh, warm blood.

Someone held her mouth open. She tried to fight, but she was held firm. A liquid filled her mouth. Panicked, Vala struggled, tried to spit, but she found her mouth clamped shut. Fingers ran along her throat. She swallowed, and whatever it was burned as it went down. A tingling feeling spread from her throat and belly. The pain lessened, as did the numbness.

"There." a male voice said, though it sounded muted, "Much better."

She coughed, wheezing, her throat parched.

"Were am I?"

Her vision was blurry, but when it cleared, she saw the Sun Elf over her, his bronzed yellow skin shadowed in the darkness of the carriage. She could still see clearly that his expression was troubled, and his eyes were...gentle.

"By carriage, we head to the docks outside of the city proper." Adir Telth'zol announced, his hand atop hers, "My flagship will carry us back to Almraiven. There, you can begin your task."

That was not right.

"What..." she gulped, "What is happening to me? What did you do?"

She groaned, tried not to gag.

He frowned, considering her, "You are very sick at the moment. You took something that clashed with the wine. You will be all right. I have also given you medicine to counter the effect. Sleep, Vala. You need to rest."

It suddenly became difficult to concentrate. Her eyelids felt heavy. Was she going to die?

Something cold went about her neck. It fastened tightly.

Desperate, she tried to contact old allies by telepathy, but her vision darkened, and her concentration fractured beyond repair. The haze became something more...solid. She returned to the darkness of oblivion, her heart pounding in her temples.

The only warmth she felt was from Adir's hand.

...

Kimmuriel started as the momentary connection to his apprentice was severed, stirring from his meditation. Annoyed, he tried to restore the link, and found something to be...masking Vala's presence. Pity.

The Bregan D'aerthe mercenary considered what might have disabled the visual leech, though in truth, it had been months since he had used it, so preoccupied by current events. Vala would not have been aware of it; his skill still far outmatched hers, and he had set his telepathic link deep, hoping that she would have remained among the Dark Promenade for longer than she had.

Still, he had learned a great many interesting things about the maidens of Eilistraee, which had more than justified his trickery. And her endeavors on the surface had proven diverting, if little else. He might have considered offering her a place in the organization; certainly, a skilled infiltrator and thief had its uses.

No matter; she would turn up, or she would not. If she did, Kimmuriel would make a note of tracking her down and at least planting another link, if not something that would subvert her will to his own. Even a Psion, even potentially a fellow Oblodra, had to be kept at arm's length. Such was the nature of intrigue and politics among the Drow.

Besides, her powers deeply disturbed him. She was far too practiced for someone that was not even two decades old. She was a natural prodigy, and she might very well surpass him in further decades. Provided she still lived. He was reasonably sure she was.

But that also meant it was likely another caster that had severed the link. A wizard, or another, more powerful Psion. That, or she was standing on consecrated ground belonging to a deity that did not want him privy to the fact. She had defied Eilistraee, and lost the protection that existed there. Could it be Selûne? Mystra?

"I will have to locate that one..." he decided, "She is too useful still. Too useful."

...

Light, blinding light.

Moonlight.

Music; harps, and a woman's voice.

A question. One she could not answer.

Falling.

Falling...

Vala felt herself spinning, drawn back from Eilistraee's communion and dumped unceremoniously into her body.

Or maybe that had just been a dream.

Sparked by her wakefulness, Vala groaned as a bout of nausea and exhaustion struck her, alongside a searing brightness that burned her eyes. She felt something wet against her face, pushed it away. A rag, soaked in water.

It was too bright; she saw only faded outlines of her surroundings.

There was a sound, metal sliding against metal.

Curtain rings?

The light dimmed. Her vision focused, albeit tinged with black spots, and stirring, Vala found herself in a circular feather-cushioned bed with dark blue sheets, and a hanging curtain that was drawn back around a metal frame. She pushed the blankets away, to waist level, and found herself clothed in a simple white robe, though its softness felt reminiscent of silk. She could tell that she was nude under it. She could also tell that someone had cut and manicured her fingernails.

"Good. You awaken. Please, get up. Enjoy the breakfast my servants have prepared for you."

Vala tried to sit up, startled, and barely managed it. Heat blossomed through her body, and she felt dizzy, violently so. Her hands shook, and were clammy. She eyed the speaker, sitting at a small table near a wide balcony that offered a view of the city and the last dregs of sunlight as it slipped below the horizon, the curtains billowing in the light breeze tinged with scents of saltwater and brine. The speaker was none other than Adir Telth'zol, favoring a small glass in his left hand.

Wait...hadn't it been bright daylight she had seen before? How much time had passed between one moment and another?

Looking around, she remembered this room as his own, from which she had stolen the codex.

What was going on?

She tried to stand, and gagged, retching.

Adir frowned, rising from the table, "Yes...the drugs were and are clashing with the herbs you had been ingesting before the party. Had I known you were taking depressants, I would have used something else. You..have had a hard time sleeping, haven't you?"

He walked to her, his hands gentle as they guided her to her feet.

She ignored him, tried to telepathically contact her Guildmaster. She failed. She then tried to access her psionic powers directly, and beside a slight vibration in the air, nothing happened. An ache at her throat caused her to idly brush her hand across it, and feeling something metallic, she glanced to a mirror on the nearby wall, expertly crafted to bend around its subtle curvature, as the Elf half-led, half-carried her to the table. She saw a golden choker in her reflection, bejeweled with a dollop of sapphire so finely cut that she had to look away, for it seemed to magnify the still painful light in the room. It shimmered with latent enchantment.

He sat her down, and she found herself before a plate of steamed okra, squash, and eggplant, wedges of a light cheese with sliced pickles and flatbread, and a shallow cup filled with water.

"Please, sit. Eat. You need to recover your strength." Adir said, his tone of voice disconcerting; kind but stern, as if he were speaking to a sick or disobedient child.

For how long, she could not say, Vala was at a loss for words.

"This was never about a heist."

She was not asking a question, and Adir nodded plainly, "I never said it was about a heist. I said that I had a task for you to perform, and that, while difficult for you, would yield great reward. Eat, and we can discuss is further now".

"But-"

"Eat." Adir said, now commanding.

Scowling, Vala pushed a slice of yellow squash into her mouth, chewed lightly, lest she vomit it back up, and swallowed. She was given pause at its pleasant, buttery taste, and realized that she was ravenously hungry. She forced down a few more pieces, before turning to the cheese and pickles.

"How long have I been here?" she asked around a lump of flatbread, unmindful of the breach of table etiquette, to which Adir shrugged noncommittally, "About two days. I had a means to prevent you from becoming dehydrated, and likewise I have kept your fever in check with a few unique remedies I have pioneered, including that bubbling drink you had tried earlier".

To that, she said nothing, and waited for him to elaborate on his own. Her glare brought a rakish grin to his face, "Well enough. I have not lied to you Vala, but neither had I been completely straightforward. Ask what you will. I will answer".

"Why did you do this?" she asked, posing the rather obvious question.

She finished her plate, wishing there was more. The simple, nutritious food helped with the nausea.

"This?" Adir paused, confused, "Bringing you here, you mean? Certainly. I have studied you for some time, first as the thief that had pilfered my codex, second, as a Psion of unique capability to which I could enlist at a future time, and finally, as a woman in great distress. Seeing you in distress has upset me terribly. Hence, my offer".

"You know nothing about me!" Vala snapped, striking the cup and sending its contents spilling over the table.

"I know that you have trouble sleeping." Adir replied, frowning at the sight of the broken ceramic, "I know that you work and live alone, secluded. I know that when you usually show yourself, it is only in disguise, your voice altered by your powers, your very name unmentioned. As a Half-Drow, this is not unusual on the surface intent, or likewise, here on the surface world. Faerûn can be particularly dangerous for one such as you. But I know the truth."

"And the truth is?"

"That you are afraid." he replied again, "You are afraid to show yourself, afraid for anyone to know you, in any way. I do not fully understand why, but I know this is so. What I think is that you do not want anyone to know you because you think that this is the only way nobody can hurt you. It breaks my heart to know you suffer. That is why I wish to help you, in my way."

"I do not want your help. You will release me immediately."

Adir shook his head, "No, Vala, it is not that simple. You have also stolen from me. By the laws of this land, your punishment is mine to decide. Were you to flee, the authorities of this city would return you here. Not even your guild can help you. Not that they likely would, I am sorry to say. You are lawfully my property, to do with as I please. But I desire far more from you than obedience, for I have more than enough slaves already."

He turned her chair forcibly to him, placing a hand on either shoulder. She stiffened at his touch, but knew that in this position, she was not strong enough to force him away, and then bring herself to her feet. His musk suddenly felt overpowering. Her hands began to shake again, and she did not know why. He smiled, albeit sadly, "So I have brought you here. I have cared for you and made the arrangements so that you can make this place, my palace, your home".

Vala tried to rise anyway, her skin gooseflesh, but his grip was iron. He held her in place.

"You are to become mine in more than just a legal manner." Adir said sternly, and Vala shivered at the finality of that statement, "The codex is in a pocket of the Astral Plane, where I had kept the other treasures, with over two thousand assorted gold sums and twice that in jewelry and-"

Adir swiped his hand dismissively, shaking his head, "I told you already, Vala. The codex, while useful, is no more than a trinket to me. "

"Th-there is a deposit box belonging to my guild, near the docks. It contains over one hundred thousand espedrilles. I pulled the password from the Guildmaster's mind, and with y-your influence you could-"

"I do not want your stolen treasures. I do not want the secrets you have uncovered about myself and my rivals. I want nothing you can offer me but yourself. I told you the object of this task was to provide me with a jewel that is both priceless and utterly unique. You are that jewel, Vala, and I would not trade such a prize for all the gold in Calimshan. I want you, Vala."

She forced herself to her feet, warring with her weakened body. His hands closed about her, his heat suffocating.

"I have sent away my other wives. I have decided to claim you, and declare you my Favored Wife. You will submit to me, body and soul. You will forsake your powers for me, your psionimancy. You will forsake your past as a warrior, for me; your connections with your fellow Drow and your guild. You will become obedient, and thankful, to me. You will stand by my side, as I come to rule Almraiven, and eventually, Calimshan. You will offer your thoughts, your words, and you body, freely to me, whenever I demand it. And you will carry, bear, and raise our offspring".

He moved his hands about her waist. She tried to twist them aside, but he used his weight to press her into him. She struck out, hitting his midsection with her palm. He grunted, but did not relent, pressing her to the wall. Vala gasped, her body pinned. His eyes bored into her.

She tried to look away, tried to ponder a means, any means, with which she could barter or force her way from the room. He held her up, forcing her eyes to meet his, "And in return for this great sacrifice, I will give you everything you have ever wanted, really wanted, in the depths of your heart. I will give you a home, to call your own and feel welcomed in. In providing me offspring, you will in turn surround yourself with our children, who will return that which you give them freely; warmth, comfort, and familial love. I will keep you safe, so you need never fight again, guide you, so you never feel lost again, and comfort you, so you never feel alone again".

He kissed her, deeply, and whether it was because of his words, or the exhaustion she felt as the medicine combated the drugs still present in her blood, or both, she did not resist. She could not. He parted her robes, exposing her to him. She tried to fight him, cuffed him again, in the nose, with the flat of her palm, but failed to stop him. He pressed her to the bed, and did as he would...

...

At last, it was over.

Her breathing came in irregular, strained gasps, and she tried and failed to sit up. Her head was still spinning, her temples pounding. Her dizziness was caused by the drugs, certainly. The nausea...well...

Adir rested beside her, a hand on her belly. He was still looking at her, studying her, though he looked as fatigued as she felt.

He had not been...gentle, with her, but he had not been cruel, either.

There had been pain, and a sense of awkwardness, but throughout, Vala had found herself unable to challenge him, and he, in turn, had caused no unnecessary discomfort. He had been demanding, but attentive to her as well, acknowledging her inexperience, pulling away at the moments that she felt overwhelmed.

It was nothing like the pairings she had occasionally seen in her life, on the surface or in the Underdark.

She twisted in bed, tired but flushed, and lay on her side, exhaling and releasing the pent up tension that had culminated upon climax.

She could not bear the sight of him, not at that moment, but Adir's body curled around hers, with her back pressed against him, and she did not have the strength to pull away. It made it impossible to think about anything else.

"You are mine, Vala." he whispered into her ear, rubbing her breast, then her belly, "Mine. Now and forever".

He settled, his body heat suffusing her, welcoming but stifling, much like Adir himself. She grimaced; his voice, his body, his sheer presence, overwhelmed her. No male had ever held such dominance over her, nor had she ever imagined it possible.

She could not defeat or evade this man, this Lord of Almraiven, with the city itself as his weapon and his sanctuary, and now, it seemed, her prison. She knew of no way to escape from this...especially without using her powers. None, not even a Dark Elf, could escape such conditions.

For better or worse, she was bound to him, to his care and his command.

Completely exhausted, Vala succumbed to her aching body, and knew no more.

...

Morning came to Almraiven. The heat of the desert was already banishing the night chill, ere the sun had even risen. It was the heat that woke him. Adir smiled as he felt Vala against him, opened his eyes to find her head resting on the small of his arm, her body still facing away from his. He waited a time, listening to the sound of her soft, rhythmic breathing, almost inaudible, then slid away, deftly setting down her head. She shivered, groaned, but did not awaken.

He dressed quietly, his black robes weighed down with spell components, which resided in a series of pouches at his belt or on the inside of the outer coat, which was a dull brown linen betraying its quality only with the intricacy of its weaving and the subtle embroidery at the hem and short sleeves. Rolling his topknot, Adir set his turban, crowned by a lump of garnet, and over it he brought up his hood.

Thus clothed, he also readied his "armor".

A tube containing a pair of scrolls he slid through his belt, along with a slim chain with dozens of charms. Each charm was in fact a rare construct called a Loun Stone, which when activated would provide various effects before depleting their energy and becoming forever inert. There were a pair of lavender ellipsoids, which absorbed incoming spells, an iridescent spinal, which would sustain his body without oxygen for over a day, be it underwater or in a vacuum, a prism of amethyst which stored the spell of his choosing, and a trio of white spinals, which caused his flesh to regenerate like a troll's. He possessed other such stones, but saw little use for them in his casual doings.

He also carried a black sapphire, intended for a specific spell he had learned from the Codex...but hoped he would never have to actually use it.

His bracers he set upon his wrists, which upon his command would summon barriers that would resist incoming magic, telepathy, projectiles, and would obliterate any existing magical effects that were not of his own doing or created by a practitioner whose ability surpassed his.

There were few enough of those in all of Calimshan, and fewer still in Almraiven.

The rest of his defenses needed greater preparation. As a master wizard, he needed to study his spell repertoire and burn their images into his mind. He sat cross-legged near the center of the room, summoning his spell book from its place in a pocket dimension, contained in a gem set in one of his many ornamented rings, specially weighted not to interfere with the delicate hand signs required in casting.

Unlatching its iron bindings, Adir pored through the familiar pages, selecting the spells that he fancied, allowing the symbols to imprint by focusing and whispering their opening incantations. A spell to summon to him the most powerful of his pre-prepared minions. Several spells that could bind mortals, demons, undead, and astral constructs. Several spells to harm others, and to use their energies to fortify himself. Spells that would destroy indiscriminately, the better to persuade where his natural charm could not.

When he was satisfied that nobody short of an Archmage could challenge him in a direct confrontation, he closed the book.

Too loudly.

Vala stirred, gripping the sheets and sitting up, her eyes darting about the room as if she had forgotten where she was. She did not seem to pay much attention to her nakedness, though. To his memory, the Drow had little consideration of modesty.

Her expression clouded over when she looked to him, but before it did, her eyes narrowed as they found the floor, betraying a mix of many conflicting emotions.

"You look better." Adir offered, still sitting, closing his book and dismissing it with a puff of smoke and a soft pop caused by the sudden displacement of air, "I mean that. Over the past three days you have been awake for perhaps three hours. The rest has helped to banish the lingering traces of the drugs. Unfortunately, I cannot breakfast with you again. There is business in the palace, it seems. A good deal of work to do repairing the alliances you strained by your thefts".

To that, she said nothing, but her eyes remained averted.

"Chin up. Today my servants will pamper you in the bathhouse. I will return in the evening, and we can watch the sunset, the better to accustom your eyes to this land and its sweltering days. Your time skulking in the shadows is over."

...

He rose, and kissed her, his hand gently sliding down the ridge of her ear and cheekbone. Vala tried to push away, but his strength was surprising for someone his size. She sat there, agitated, her arms pressed against his chest, until he let her go, his eyes piercing her in that way they did.

She could not match that gaze. She looked away.

She pushed away the bed sheets, and tried not to look at the blood there.

"Try not to give them too much trouble." Adir said as he opened the door, admitting a pair of male Humans. They were armored in scale mail, their tabards emblazoned with Adir's crest; a crescent Selûne with her many tears, one of which was a pale skull. While armored, they were unarmed.

Vala stood up, placing the bed between her and the door. She considered donning the silk robe she had worn before, and dismissed the idea.

The morning brought with it a fresh outlook, and new rebellion.

Adir slipped by them, whispering something to each as he passed, and they eyed her, her nakedness. She stood impassively, raising a single brow, as if challenging them to comment.

"You will come with us." the male to her right said, a Human in middling years, judging by the slight grey in his beard. His bald pate showed old scars running along his scalp. "Get dressed."

She stood where she was, calculating.

It was bright, but with the curtains closed, it was not too bright to make out details.

"Get dressed." he repeated, "Now."

Nothing pointed, except for a few seashells. They would not be solid enough for what she needed.

They shared a look, drew in closer.

She considered the bowl on the table. Silver, but solid enough.

She bent down to pick up her robes, and the males relaxed, if only slightly.

She tied the soft material around her hand, considered the short distance between her and the table.

Short enough.

Everything happened within the space of a few moments, but to her, every detail was pronounced.

The bearded male charged her, his comrade, far younger, his long hair in a topknot, trailing behind him. She reached the table, wrapped the other end of the robe around the bowl. The older male reached her, while his fellow leapt over the bed. Vala snapped the robe up, braining the bald one with the bowl inside it as he tried and failed to cover his head. Elbowing and slipping behind the other, Vala pulled on his topknot and ruined his center of gravity. The bald one locked a hand around her forearm, but with the bowl in her other hand, Vala thrust it forward like a shield. He caught that hand with his other, and she butted her head against the bridge of his nose. Something hot caked her forehead.

But his grip held. The other male wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her back. Vala kicked the bald one between his legs, but her leg only rebounded against the inside of his knee. He had pressed his legs together. He crossed one of her arms over the other, and Vala opened her mouth to bite. The male with the topknot pulled her head back by her hair, and she stomped on his foot and propelled herself, bruising her ankle. When she pushed forward, she became gagged by the robe, which the bald male had angled to cover her mouth.

A second passed, in which she felt her legs crumple, and she was on the bed. The Human with the topknot tied the gag while his ally bound her wrists with a length of cord he had somehow slipped out of his sleeve. She struggled, but each of them were heavily muscled. They lifted her up, covered her in the robe like a cloak, knotting the belt, and led her to the door.

"Alright then." the bald Human said, squeezing her waist so tightly that she could barely move her legs, then he pushed her forward, while the other kept close, watching her. He needn't bother. She had expended her best chance of getting past them, and would not sacrifice her dignity to thrash about uselessly.

Besides...Adir's attentions had left her sore, and the Human's grip on her was painful enough to force compliance, as was her difficulty seeing clearly.

Outside of Adir's room, there was a short corridor with several doors. She gasped, pained by the brightness, looked away, and tried to adjust her eyes. Her handlers cursed, but did not strike her, pushing her forward against her efforts to plant her feet. The door at the end was barred, and guarded by two additional Humans, and four more besides watched a far balcony and stairwell. Beyond it, she saw glimpses of a narrow stone peak, too small to be a rooftop. The rest was indeterminate behind a veil of piercing white light.

Squinting about the rest of the corridor, Vala made out small details; the gold carpets with red trim, the doors fine rosewood. The knobs were ornamented, featuring the skull motif common among Adir's iconography. The vibrant colors made her dizzy, and they led her to the second door on the right.

Vala exhaled, relieved to be out of the sunlight. The temperature in the room was higher than outside, and there was a humidity she could not immediately place. Steam? Her infravision would have told her for sure, but even the dim candlelight that lit the room when the door was shut would have caused pinpricks of acute pain.

There were two females in the room, robed in brown linen, their eyes wide as the guards set her down on her knees. One was visibly older than the other; her grayed hair was set in a small bun, and her weathered, tanned face seemed set in a permanent frown. She appeared to hail from a northern region, or perhaps one of her parents had. Something about her complexion, brow, and chin reminded her of the Humans north of Silverymoon. The corners of her green eyes bore further wrinkles, and an odd, ruddy complexion that betrayed either chronic stress or lack of sleep, or both. Still, her eyes contained intelligence, and a little mischief; she seemed to take in Vala's predicament in a moment, and the slightest motion of her lips betrayed the beginnings of an amused grin.

Another might have missed it. Vala, however, was trained to notice small details.

Her fellow, little older than Vala herself, was a darker skinned native, with long, black hair tied in a knot, brown eyes with slightly tilted lids, and a rounded, almost ovoid face. She towered over her companion, but was thinner than a reed. Even the thick robes she wore seemed to add little to her implied girth.

Behind them was a closed veil, translucent but nonetheless concealing what resided further in.

"No more trickery." the bald Human growled, his hand on her shoulder in such a way that she could not rise if she tried to, "There are six trained men outside this room, and two inside. You got that first one for free. The next one will hurt".

Vala smirked, "Adir would not want me permanently damaged, N-Tel-Quess. Your threats mean nothing to me."

Thanks to her education of the surface world, Vala knew that the Faerie Elves called themselves Tel-quessir, which simply meant "the people". As it was an insult to the Drow to call them irinal, which meant "forsaken" in elvish, N-Tel-Quess was a derogatory term for Humans and other short lived races, which meant "not people". She knew that Humans in service to a Sun Elf would surely be aware of this designation, and was rewarded with an uneasy look passing between the two females and the painful tightening of his grip on her shoulder.

"We will see." was all she got in reply, and Vala hid her smile. The sum total of ten minutes had given her something to use; if all of Adir's servants were like this, she might be able to slip away. While she was certain the choker about her neck had some manner of tracking spells, she had more than enough in her savings to bribe the guild master to remove it, and her, from the city limits.

The males stood by the door, and the females led her through the veil. Still bound, Vala had little ability to resist. Besides, she had already done much. She noticed that both females had a bracer on their left wrist; a thick iron affair. Ah...they were thralls, then. Sparing a glance at the males before the veil closed behind her, she noticed similar ornaments.

Even better; she knew well enough that thralls were possessed of a strong inferiority complex. She could always needle the bald male with that, the illusion of her higher station.

It would be risky, but she could manage it. She was still Drow, and born to this.

Beyond the first chamber, some kind of waiting room, Vala found herself in a much larger area. There were four portals, two on either side, each concealed by another Veil. The lighting was still dim, so she could see in stark detail the large circular depression in the center. Inside the depression, was dark, steaming water, its surface dotted with lily pads and marsh flowers. It could accommodate perhaps four people. Around it was a deep trench that ringed its edges.

Vala found that she could not account for this peculiar feature.

The older female undid her bindings, tensely, watching her face all the while. Vala met that gaze, absorbing what she could.

There was little. The woman's expression was stern and unflinching.

Likely, she had come to terms with her bondage long ago. Vala could not easily turn that to her advantage.

"You should not antagonize him." the woman said dryly as she cut the cord that held her wrists.

"Why not?" Vala asked, shrugging off her robes as the younger female undid the belt.

"Sabih is a seasoned warrior, and has a short temper. Especially when dealing with women." she replied, "You were right; Adir does want you unharmed, and that is the only reason he did not split your lip".

"Shocking." Vala replied dryly, letting them lead her to the edge of the waters.

This was proving far more interesting; now she had the man's name, his history, and even more. She was not mistaken about being able to press her advantage, however slight.

She eyed them both, determining what she could, then, "Who are you, then?"

"You will not leave this place."

"What?"

"Almraiven." she replied, "Adir's side. Whatever you would call it. This resistance is foolish".

Vala smirked, "We will see. But if whatever I do is irrelevant, you can surely tell me your names..." to which the older woman shrugged, pushing her down the first step, "Amara. Her name is Durrah".

The water was hot. She sucked in a sharp intake of breath, nearly tripping as Amara forced her to shin level. The sting was lessened above her feet, which began to throb, acclimating to the higher temperature.

"You are not from these lands either, Amara." Vala added, not as a question.

She sighed, "My mother and I were traveling from our home when we were abducted by slavers and sold in Memnon. That was decades ago, and I no longer remember where home was. I was only four, after all".

"You could certainly understand then why I want to take my chances."

"Not really. Adir has claimed you as his wife. His Favored Wife. There are few paths that offer such luxury." she replied, her hands becoming rougher, more insistent, "Here you are, having earned a score of lashes, enjoying a soothing bath instead."

"If you want to be a groomed slave so much, I'm willing to switch. I can escape your position easily enough."

"I would if I could."

The water reached the space between her legs, and Vala hissed, forcing them together. She nearly doubled over from the pain, but the women held her upright, forcing her to the center.

It passed. She only felt a dull ache, and an unfamiliar flushness. It might have been her imagination, but Vala thought she saw a dark sliver bloom in the waters; the last remnants of her virgin bleed.

"Sit." Amara demanded, "Around the edges is an elevated bench".

Short of breath, Vala reached blindly for what she was describing, and finding it, she collapsed onto a ridge of smooth stone as gently as she could, fearing another similar experience.

Amara's expression softened when she looked again, "Hold still. This will loosen your muscles and relieve tension".

The woman stepped down into the trench, and her arms were level with Vala's shoulders when she knelt. Of course; it was a way for those outside of the bathing pit to be level with those that were inside.

"Face forward."

Vala complied, putting her back to the woman, and feeling a rush of instinctive panic because of it.

That panic doubled when she felt Amara's fingertips experimentally probing the back of her neck.

"Relax." Amara said softly as she moved her hands up and massaged her scalp, "I am compelled by geas not to harm you. Furthermore, I am prevented from knowingly allowing you to come to harm".

"Well that is reassuring." Vala replied nervously, "Here I thought you were just being friendly".

Amara reached back down, stroking the tendons in her neck.

Vala sighed, deflated against the walls of the bathing pit. Her entire body felt flushed in its heat.

Amara snorted, "Well that was your foolishness, not mine."

She opened one eye, barely, and closed it again. Far too much effort...

"Flippant? That seems incongruous for a slave."

The Human's hands reached the bridge of Vala's neck and back, and it felt like every nerve in her body was awash in ecstasy. Was this why Irae so often demanded those foot massages? Goddess, it was wonderful.

"Look who's talking."

Right...

"...uhh, well played."

...

Adir sat cross-legged upon a cushion that he had brought up with him, as he did every time, to a second level of his rooftops; a flat plateau not visible from the city streets. Nor was it visible from the adjacent rooftops; for the moment, his manse was the highest structure in that district of Almraiven, and his subtle building permits imposed on his neighbors kept it so.

Here, he did his private business. And he could even do so during the day.

Five minutes prior he had called upon his agents, and after waiting these five minutes, he heard the whoosh of displaced air, and marked a blur, only visible because he knew to look for it.

His investigation into Vala's backer had led him halfway around the city and back, and he had swiftly tired of conventional measures.

His servants touched down, their stone talons digging into grooves carved into the floor to accommodate them.

The field of invisibility still hid them; an extra measure of privacy while he drew the information he needed..

Adir held up a lens, enchanted to pierce illusions, and studied his seven gargoyles, exact duplicates of the thirty-five that stood inactive lining the walls of his mansion. Fat, Goblin-like heads with impassive, lifeless features, stared back with eyes that were carved ellipsoids of pale green chalcedony. Their slim bodies, basalt so heavily polished it looked more like obsidian, were intricately detailed, every muscle in stark profile. Their wings, solid stone, could not lift them were it not for the layers upon layers of enchantments that took place during their construction.

It had taken him years to produce these specimens, thousands upon thousands of espedrilles' worth of magical components, not to mention the countless criminals whose bodies and souls had been harvested to produce many of the vile ingredients.

A gargoyle was a wicked creature, created naturally or artificially, but his particular breed were empowered by complex and exacting necromantic rituals. But this sacrifice, like all sacrifices, gave them strength. Their ability to shrug off spells was unparalleled, and they gained several innate abilities, such as their greater invisibility field. They could also conjure darkness, perform basic magic, and even regenerate lost limbs.

And they were utterly, mindlessly loyal to their creator; it was the very foundation of the magic that had shaped them.

Above his trade partners, above even his own soldiers, his small cadre of gargoyles was his greatest defense, one that he had not yet needed to use in force. But if his house came under siege...pity to the fools who attempted it.

"Reveal to me what you have learned." Adir commanded, and the gargoyles, perched atop key areas near the homes of each of his rival Vicelords, and even the Royal Palace itself, began to whisper. Not in their voices, for they had none, but in the voices of those they had been commanded to eavesdrop upon. Their long, pointed ears were enchanted to isolate voices above a din of a crowd or the roar of a battlefield, regardless of relative distances.

The recorded voices of each of his rivals detailed their doings, most of it interesting, potentially useable against them later. Trade agreements...conspiracies...

Hours passed, and he absorbed every detail. But there was only curiosity towards the recent string of crimes, and outrage at lost trinkets. None had spoken aloud anything remotely incriminating.

His gargoyles listened to everything each subject said and did, throughout the course of their day. Nothing was hidden; he checked his minions for tampering on every return, and not a moment failed to be recorded. Everything was accounted for.

Disappointed, but not surprised, Adir dismissed his constructs, and considered his next options. Likely, he was looking for somebody from neighboring Memnon, or Calimport. Hadn't the assassin Artemis Enteri recently gained influence there, claiming old Pasha Basadoni's guild as his own? The rumors that he had allied with the Drow and possessed the legendary Charon's Claw notwithstanding, he was certainly paranoid enough to try to destabilize Almraiven.

Though such indirect means made the possibility unlikely; from what he had understood of the man, Artemis preferred to run his enemies through with his wicked dagger, not weaken them through politics and misdirection.

Whatever the case, it would take something else to expose the buyer. But that was precisely his intention, because despite what he had told his new wife, that codex had been priceless, and exceedingly useful, for it held the rituals that had bound elemental spirits used in part to create his gargoyles. Whoever the buyer was, they knew the secrets of each of the Vicelords. He would not let the fool remain idle.

Removing Vala from play had by no means halted the game, at least not for long.

...

After the bath, they led her to a table in another sub-chamber of the room, and performed a second, more general massage while she laid face down, her head pressed through a hole in its surface. It might have taken minutes, or hours. Vala might have fallen asleep once or twice; the heat and stimulation of her legs, arms, and back, had pacified her as even the mixed instinctive dread and uncertainly that Adir provoked in her could not.

There was another small meal, this one of sliced fruit, waiting for her afterward. A thrall had brought it in, but Vala had not managed to spot them. She had managed a third of her plate before the nausea returned.

They had bound her wrists again, forcing her to clothe herself in a similar white robe, and Durrah had cut her hair, not altering its length, only its consistency.

It was only at this time that Vala realized that Durrah had not once spoken a word in her presence.

Asking about it had only earned a cold stare from Amara, so Vala let the subject drop.

For the moment.

The males, Sabih and...well, Vala would know his name soon enough, then let her back out into the hallway. The expected pain from the brightness did not come; the view of the balcony revealed a sun nearly fallen below the horizon. She had spent hours in there...and not even known it.

Adir was waiting for her in his bedchambers. They locked her in with him.

All at once, that crushing, demoralizing tightness in her stomach took away her ability to resist, and she let him lead her to the table again.

She caught a glimpse of a small, velvet lined display case on his shelf that had not been there before. A passing glance revealed its occupant to be none other than her mother's tooth.

There were two platters now; spiced lamb and rice, flatbread, and lentil soup, with two mugs of steaming black currant tea.

"The day greeted you well, I trust." he said, tossing aside his turban and untying his hair so that it flowed freely down his shoulders and nearly to his waist. His eyes, a deep, dark shade of brown-copper, bored into her, though not necessarily in hostility.

Vala said nothing, though she found herself unable to look away.

"They tell me you were more talkative earlier." he added, considering her while he took his seat beside her, "Sabih did not say it, but I know you gave him a nasty bruise on the bridge of his nose. And Rafid seemed to favor his right foot".

He grinned

He knew she would do this...

So she returned that look in full. Now she had the strength to match him.

"You abducted me. You are holding my against my will. I consider it my right."

"I prevented you from being jailed in one of my rival's dungeons."

"I could have bribed my way out of any of them."

"You are a thief. You have committed crimes against this city and its rulers. It is my right to determine the conditions of your servitude. And I decided bribing was impossible."

Vala clenched her fists, irate.

"And what of you, Adir?!" she snapped bitterly, "You are a slaver, who trades in people's futures. A necromancer, who twists and perverts the bodies and souls of the dead! What crimes not recognized by this land have you committed? What kind of monster are you to judge me?!"

He frowned, pensive, "You think me a monster?"

He pulled at the bracer at his wrist, and for a moment Vala would have sworn her would strike her.

Instead, the bracer slid free, revealing thick dark scabbing; the remnants of deep, painful gouges that ran a third of the way up his forearm, and down onto the backs of his hands. The kind of gouges created by struggling when you were bound in irons. Over a decade in Menzoberranzan had given her insight into such wounds.

"My other wrist is similarly marked." Adir noted, his expression now distant, "We all start as something, Vala. I began my life as a thrall to the lords of this city. When I showed potential in the sorcerous arts, I was freed...with certain conditions. I have come to rule this land, Vala, at least in part, because I know what it is to be another's property."

"If I am a monster, Vala, then I am a monster that thrives upon my empathy towards others that share in my experiences. Aye, I am a slaver of men and woman, the latter more than the former. But I am lenient where others are not. Understanding where others are not. It is for that reason I will forgive that outburst."

He eyed her calmly, a curious smile on his face, "That, and because you are my wife."

Vala bristled at that, considered another cruel response.

And dismissed the idea. The sight of his wounds stirred a mote of uncertainty from her; she had heard even the most fierce and savage of Orcs and Goblins wail through the long Underdark nights as they thrashed against their bindings, reduced to shivering, pain-ridden reflections of their former selves. She knew it took hours, many hours, to inflict such permanent marks on one's flesh.

Adir had suffered greatly to so mark himself.

"Enough of such dark matters. Eat."

He motioned to her plate.

She inhaled the scents of their meal. The thick nutty aroma of the seasonings left her mouth watering.

She took a bite, and the meat seemed to melt on her tongue.

In her periphery, she could see Adir grinning.

"Some protein will do you well. Normally, as the meal is served, the males eat first, but we can work on table etiquette when you are well, and ready to appear in my court."

Vala shrugged, "In Menzoberranzan, males often ate first to test the foods for poison."

Adir chuckled, "Well enough. You will also be expected to be respectful to males in attendance. You will be expected to curtsy, and smile, and not speak."

"Curtsy? No matter. I have no intention of remaining here long enough to bother."

"You think to escape?"

Vala looked up from her plate, and frowned at the hurt expression he gave her.

"I don't know. I don't think I can. But I will likely try."

He nodded, troubled, "I would expect as much from a Dark Elf, especially one as willful as you. Fear not; it is your spirit that attracted me to you in the first place. I can hardly blame you for what you are."

They ate for a time in silence. Then, "Menzoberranzan, was it? From what family do you hail?"

Vala eyed him, curious, "What do you mean?" to which he chuckled, taking a sip of tea, "I deduced that you were born of a house noble and a slave by your words and actions up to this point, as well as your affiliation with the Dark Maidens of Eilistraee, but I want to know the specifics, from your own lips and your own perspective. Which house?"

"Oblodra." she replied, taking in the view of Almraiven so she did not have to consider where these thoughts were taking her, "I was raised in House Duskryn, the eighth and least Ruling House, but Kimmuriel and others seemed to think I was born of one of his kin. Psions were very rare in Menzoberranzan, after all, especially after that house's destruction."

He nodded, "I knew of Oblodra only by reading the missive out of Longsaddle pertaining to the Dark Elves and their society, obtained by an interview with the Do'Urden renegade himself. They were indeed a prolific force among the Drow."

"The who? Do'Urden?"

"It was before your time, my dear." Adir said, considering, "Does the fact that they defied Lloth please or displease you?"

"I never really thought about it."

"True, but what do you think?"

Vala paused, flustered, uncertain of what he was asking, "I do not know. Lloth is likely the reason I was born at all. Her faith gave me strength at a time that I needed it. But she is also cruel, as are the Drow. My mother died, horribly, at the hands of a demon during some sort of twisted game they had concocted. I would say that I now hate Lloth. And I would say that while Oblodra defied Lloth, they were still vile and corrupt creatures, one and all, also earning my hatred."

"But then..." she considered, troubled, "I guess I hate Eilistraee too, for forgiving Alirana Srune'Lett, who killed my mother, when I could not do the same. I guess I have harbored a seed of hatred in my heart for her rejection of me, and even greater hatred towards myself that I was not worthy of becoming one of her clerics. And I hated Qilué and Iljrene too, for making me believe that I was."

Vala frowned, her eyes on her plate, stricken with a terrible realization, made the more abundantly obvious the more she considered it, "You could say that I have come to hate everyone I have ever met."

He studied her for a time, thoughtful.

Vala studied her plate, conversely, "Does that disappoint you, Adir? Does that lessen your fascination with me?"

She dug her fork into a length of lamb, idly swirling it in the puddle of its own juices.

He placed his hand atop hers, and it felt warm.

"No." he replied, "It just makes me sad, is all."

Not Condemnation. Not understanding, nor bereavement, nor condensation. It had to be empathy. His empathy was the worst thing he could have given at that moment. It sapped her strength more completely than anything else possibly could have.

Adir set her fork aside, turned her face so that their eyes met. The understanding in them undid her. He pressed her against him. He kissed her neck, then her cheek, and then her lips, his tongue sliding against hers. Vala felt the tug against her belt, felt her robe loosen, felt her body being carried to the bed. Everything after that became a blur of mixed pain and relief.

Chapter 4

Almraiven, Calimshan (25th of Nightal, 1379 Dalereckoning)

Her days became a routine, one interchangeable with the next. She woke, ate with Adir. Sometimes she fought with her captors when he left, sometimes not. They sported bruises when that happened. She did not. But that did not happen as often anymore; the constant spa treatments, the rich, fatty foods, and her inability to spar or meditate had left her muscles soft and malleable, her reflexes sluggish and inexact. She could do little now but thrash impotently as they led her by force.

Amara and Durrah bathed and massaged her. Durrah would also rub an ointment into her scalp that accelerated her hair growth. Already, her short crop reached beyond her ears. Within another week, it would likely touch her shoulders. The women would then groom the hair, brushing and occasionally snipping a loose strand, before scrubbing it and wrapping it in a bun to dry.

She usually ate a sparse meal, then returned to dine again with Adir. They would talk.

Sometimes, he would tell her of Calimshan; of the constant strife between Humans and the Djinn and Efreet that roamed the desert wastes, of the sparkling oases guarded by elemental spirits, of the Blue Dragons that raged during the droughts, their flights often heralding a great thunderstorm.

Vala, on the other hand, spoke only infrequently. Her mother, her time in the Dark Promenade, she kept to herself. Adir seemed displeased about that, but did not try to force anything from her but her body.

After that, he would take from her what he would, and they would stay awake for some time, speaking little.

She would close her eyes, wondering what she was going to do.

Today, however, Vala stirred restlessly, hours earlier than normal, knowing this would not be a good day. She twisted in bed, groaning, clutching her stomach.

A cramp. Lovely.

She wasn't due for another week.

Adir started, waking after her for once. His hands found hers, still at her stomach, then moved up a little.

Vala gasped as he pinched.

"Stop that." she hissed, "It stings."

He laughed, but removed his hands regardless, "I could not resist. Tomorrow I will be at rest; we will have more time then. For now, I must be off. I am so sorry we have not had the time I would have liked thus far."

With that, he left her at the foot of the bed, and dressed, his robes already prepared beforehand by his thralls. He faced away, and Vala studied the markings across the small of his back; deep, long cuts that had healed over, but nonetheless left pale scars that were elevated from the rest of the skin. Lashes, from a leather whip. A symbol marred the skin over the right shoulder blade; a ring, denoting the Iron Ring slave traders based in Skullport, as well as a wizardly rune, likely the signature of whatever wizard had purchased him as a child.

"What was it like..." she would have asked, had she not already known well enough what it was like to grow up a slave.

She also noticed, against her will, his fine, bronzed complexion, and his lithe, rippling muscles as they bunched, sadly concealed as his robes covered them. He turned his head, noticed her scrutiny, and she looked away, nonplussed.

He sat and meditated, though unlike her, he also read from his book while he concentrated. As a Psion, she wondered distantly what it was like to have to read one's powers to use them. She simply was aware of them, herself.

Another bout of cramps doubled her over, but she otherwise kept her face impassive. It would be foolish to show weakness; he would just try to win her over again.

After some time, he rose to his feet. His book vanished in a cloud of shadows.

He turned, smiled distantly, and kissed her once more, just for a few seconds. A few seconds that she did not resist. He did that far too often to make a fuss over it anymore. Far too tiresome.

Her cramp became something worse. She jolted out of bed, panicked, and reached for the chamber pot.

She groaned, shivered, and heaved, her chest and throat constricting. Again, and once more, resulting in nothing more than drool as she held her mouth wide open, blinking to clear the moisture collecting in her eyes.

It came out all at once.

She was sick, and then wiped her mouth after, thankful that all that marred her lips was saliva.

Vala waited some time, shaking, waiting to be sure she was alright.

She spat when the nausea settled, forced herself upright with a grunt, and donned her silken robe, though suddenly it felt coarse around her chest, and picked at her breakfast; dried currants and roasted nuts.

The meal seemed horribly dry, unappetizing. She washed it down with a gulp of fresh water, wishing for a grapefruit or something similarly juicy.

Actually, while she usually detested the rusty, salty taste of grapefruit, suddenly it sounded nothing short of irresistible.

"This place must be getting to me." she said to herself, "I wonder if that little contingency is ready yet."

Her options had proven slim indeed.

She had started with her collar; without it inhibiting her powers, she could pass right through the walls of Adir's palace. The problem was that its gold band was enchanted for hardness. No implement she could improvise was sturdy enough to even scratch it.

Likewise, the gem, from which the inhibiting properties manifested, was impervious to physical damage altogether. She had tried prying it from its setting, to no avail.

Had the collar been a bracer; something binding her hand...there might have been drastic measures she could have taken. Again, to no avail; it was placed at the one location she could not cut.

So regaining her power immediately was out of the question. As was persuading one of the other slaves to remove it for her. Amara was definitely under a geas; a sort of magical leash that prevented or required certain actions, and Durrah refused to speak to her, despite her frequent prodding.

Sabih and Rafid would not be coaxed; the men in this land seemed to hold women in contempt, as much as outsiders and non-humans. Being a female non-human from distant lands did not seem to endear her to those two in particular.

So she had to be clever, using just the right combination of bribery, their feelings of inferiority, and the threat of Adir's retribution. She just needed a little more to use for the former.

They waited for her at the door. Sabih had a patch over his left eye, covering the painful welt there. Rafid had long ago cut his hair, cropping it short and denying her the handle hold. He had not seemed pleased by that.

Likely, he would resist her efforts out of spite alone.

Vala shrugged, walked over to them. They parted to allow her to pass, surprised, and that was just what she did.

It would be an easy day for them; she still felt...not quite herself, and thus was unwilling to make a fuss. The cramps. The sensitivity. Was it the food? One subject that had been notably absent from her education was anatomy and biology, save the specific subject of treating ailments of a more obvious nature; a sword in the gut, for instance.

Amara hid her smirk when Vala walked herself into the bathhouse, but her mood was betrayed by the gleam in her eyes.

"Right then. This way"

Vala shrugged, disinterested, already tossing aside her robe. She felt the male's scrutiny behind her, and promptly ignored it. The veil parted, and she walked into the waters without ceremony, taking her usual spot.

"Not feeling well, I take it?" Amara asked, taking her own usual spot, starting at the scalp and working down.

Vala grunted, unable to say more for a time, "I might have caught another of your surface illnesses."

"Oh?" the Human prodded, and Vala shrugged, staring at the ceiling tiles and idly attempting to locate a pattern in their intentional discolorations, "Nausea, though that seems to be passing already, cramps, tenderness...some kind of skin disorder mixed with a hint of flu?"

Amara bristled, her hands becoming rough, and Vala sucked in a cloud of steam as she pressed too hard against a tendon.

"Sorry." she replied hastily, "Surely, that must be it. Though...enough time had passed..."

"What do you mean?" Vala asked, "Enough time on the surface?"

"Never mind. I will be sure to let the physician know. Have you met him yet?"

"Yes." Vala groaned, "And his attentions are more awkward than Adir's. All that poking and prodding. What was he looking for, exactly?"

"That is for Adir to tell you, though I imagine he has already."

Vala cleared her throat, disturbed by the direction the conversation was taking. No, he most certainly had not, and that confused her. What was this big secret?

"So how long have you been here?"

"Here?" Amara asked, and Vala considered that, "Umm...Adir's manse. How about that?"

"I have been here for over forty years. This house belonged to another when I arrived from Memnon; Vicelord Malfius. Adir was only an apprentice back then, though he had been recognized as a prodigy even then, his skills reputedly a rival to his own master."

Curious, Vala pressed the subject, "Was he still a thrall, though?"

"No. But he was an indentured servant." Amara replied, considering, "Practically a thrall, but a temporary one. To my knowledge, he did not choose necromancy, but had it thrust upon him. But after over a century of learning it...well, it makes sense that he never altered his course of study, even after Malfius was...stricken with sudden illness and perished."

Adir had implied that he learned magic as a youth; that put him at a little over one hundred and fifty years of age. For some reason, Vala had assumed he was much older than that...

"Things became more livable after Adir took the mantle of lordship." Amara said, forgetting the massage. Vala did not mention that she had stopped.

"Before...servants would just...disappear, in the night. Never to be seen again. Malfius like to take young women, children...they say purer souls empowered necromantic rituals. We never heard the screams, but we imagined them. Every week another dozen or so would enter this house. Half would remain, half would be taken into the lower levels. Some would be promoted to guards...but..."

Vala turned to the Human, found her shivering, her eyes distant, "There was nothing in their eyes. We never saw them eat, or sleep. They never spoke; they seemed to know their orders without actually receiving them. If you touched one, their skin was cold, and clammy. I hated it here. I was only fifteen; I was sure one night they would come for me."

She shrugged, the color returning to her face, "They never did. When Adir took his place, after his death, there was a change of guard. Renovations to the lower levels. Many of the rooms were emptied; the furnishings replaced. We were given board at a newly constructed bunkhouse connected to the main structure. Things got...better. Nobody was taken after that; Adir seemed to find a preference with convicted criminals; murderers and the like. They went into the lower levels in our stead. The new guards were enspelled, certainly, but very much alive."

She considered something, before adding; "I used to massage the master when he would come here. He was younger, if only a little, and more unsure of himself. I would serve him as I did you. I would also apply herbs and ointments to his wrists, and back."

She chuckled, "I was rather attracted to him, you understand."

Vala wanted to say something unbefitting, but held her tongue; those impressions she had when she looked upon his body would have colored her response. Instead, she came to a realization; "You were hoping he would take you, but he didn't"

"He did." Amara replied, "Once. Only once."

"And that would make you envious of me, wouldn't it?" Vala half-asked, half-stated, "Especially..."

She said no more; it was too cruel. As an Elf, Adir would live many centuries more, whereas Amara, as a Human, likely had another decade, at best.

And she had not aged well, no offense intended.

"Indeed." Amara said dryly, "I was not pleased when he named me among your handmaidens, but I have done my best."

"And done your best not to despise me." Vala noted, not judging but simply acknowledging.

The Human laughed, "And succeeding without much effort, I promise. You are a sweet girl, even if you are at times insufferable. Even if you try to hide your nature."

"Do not deny it." she persisted, "I can see beyond your pretenses. I know you are afraid, or you were. And I know you were looking for something more in your life. You remind me a little of myself when I was younger. Just a Dark Elf, in addition."

"Half." Vala corrected, "As a Half-Elf, he will outlive me as well. I would not feel too envious."

"He is a necromancer. Those sorts have ways to cheat death like no others do."

"He would make me a Lich?" Vala gasped, horrified. She would kill herself first! But then...would that really matter, if he was a necromancer? Would that stop him?

"Oh, certainly not." Amara chuckled, "But something else, something to only prolong your life, something to slow the aging process...he has already done something similar with himself. Fear not, milady, you will know the lifespan of a pure blooded Elf, I have little doubt, if not much, much more."

Thoroughly disturbed, Vala said no more, and her...handmaiden...returned to massaging her back.

...

Barboris, Guildmaster of The Shadow Thieves, or at least the Calimshan splinter of the notorious Amnian guild, welcomed Adir's arrival in his private underground manse. More accurately, the wizened Halfling welcomed Knol, Adir's "Emissary", in truth, little more than an empty husk of dead flesh shaped by magic to pose as a living being.

"I thank you for seeing me under such short notice." Adir said through his flesh puppet's lips, "This unrest in the capital has left my master...uneasy."

"It is no problem for me to see such established friends and patrons." Barboris replied jovially, "Come. Sit. Enjoy the wine. Tell me what Adir Telth'zol needs of us now."

He had done well ingratiating himself with The Shadow Thieves; regular purchases, in goods, services, and information, as well as outside contributions to their health and security. They had been more than useful in solidifying his position in Almraiven. He had also developed a mutual understanding with Barboris himself, purporting to be a fellow worshiper of Shar. The Shadovar-allied guild had taken kindly to him after the initiation rituals...and often made purchases of their own that required his skill in the necromantic art. It was foul business, but sadly necessary.

Adir considered his glass through Knol's eyes, pretended to inhale its aroma, but he never caused his puppet to drink.

Alcohol did odd things to undead flesh sometimes.

"It is the recent thefts." Adir said through Knol, swirling the glass, "He is most appreciative that you surrendered your agent after the deal was made..."

"Bah, the Drow lass?" Barboris chuckled, "More a freelance contact. You want to know the buyer too, then? I am very sorry...but we were unable to discover this ourselves before Adir took the girl in Memnon."

Pity.

"Well enough. I would then like you to investigate. Lord Adir is willing to pay double the rate for anything useful that you can find."

Barboris grinned around the rim of his wine glass, taking a deep sip. The little Halfling sweated greed.

"Sure. I will put the twins on the job. But I want triple."

"And why is that?"

"I will tell you this without price." Barboris said, a hint of his usual enthusiasm lessened, "The Syl-Pasha, I hear, has taken interest in events after that little stunt your master pulled with Erona. He is sending in his own agents, and I do not like the idea of risking my boys. So...thrice the rate. I am sorry, but I would have preferred not to take the job at all."

Adir understood his little ally's reticence well; Archmage Ralan el Pesarkhal was not one to be trifled with. Any man who had taken the entire Calim desert and all the cities therein as his territory was not one to be trifled with. Even King Ahriman offered great respect to the Syl-Pasha.

"I will have to defer to my lord first..." Adir said, appreciating the irony, "He will likely find this agreeable, if not ideal."

Barboris nodded, drained his cup, "Good. Say, how is the lass? Does she still live. The Drow lass, that is?"

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it." Adir replied, "The night shroud you, Dark Brother."

"And you as well, Dark Brother."

...

Hours passed after she was led in.

Adir was not waiting for her in their room, like he normally was.

Instead, it had been the physician who had come for her next, inspecting her body; her pores, eyelids, armpits, and...modesty. He had given her some herbs to calm her stomach, and left, thankfully.

Thoroughly probed and prodded and agitated, Vala lay on the bed, on her side, though her head rested against the headboard so she could look out the balcony. It was late evening; the sun's rays reached below the skyline, so that the room was cast in comfortable shadow.

Out there was the guild, where she had spent the last two years of her life benefiting through her work. Out there was the Dark Promenade. She wondered distantly what Iljrene was doing at that moment; likely drilling the new recruits and recently turned priestesses. Hopefully, all was going well.

She wished that she had stayed. She wish she had listened, had been able to at least forget what Alirana had done to her. There would have been a penance...but maybe Qilué might have welcomed her back after some time had passed. Eilistraee certainly would have. She could have been much there, more than she had been. More than she was now.

Regret soured her already depleting mood.

She turned to lay on her back, studying the ceiling. The longer she stayed in this place, the more comfortable she became with it. That was something she did not want, not at all. She wanted to remain separate from it, to remain determined to escape. She did not want her servitude to become livable!

The door opened.

She could smell Adir's aroma; aged wood and a hint of almonds and smoke.

"So is it the flu?" Vala asked idly, not bothering to look at him, "I tire of this illness already."

He fell into bed beside her, and she sensed his eyes on her.

"No."

His voice was...expectant...

"Well? What is it then?"

"You are carrying."

Carrying...what-

She sat up, in a panic, eyeing him now. It could not be...

"What?"

"You need not be surprised. We have been at this for over a week now. It took after the third or fourth time, given the timeframe of the first symptoms."

She stared, numb. His expression, unreadable, gave way to a wide, rakish smile that belonged to someone far younger than a century-old Wizard-Lord of Almraiven, "I am pleased, Vala. Very pleased. You have done well, and performed your duties for me. As you will continue to do as the pregnancy runs its course."

She could not match his...enthusiasm.

"In fact, I am so pleased I thought we would try something...different, tonight. Here, move over...like this.."

...

"Breathe."

She was a slave, again.

"Breathe, Vala."

There was no escape. Not now. Not when she was carrying Adir's offspring.

"Vala."

He would hunt her to the ends of the earth. Like her mother, Vala was to carry for the benefit of another.

"Vala...?"

Like her mother, she would live her life for the benefit of another. There was no escape.

"Try to relax. You are too tense, and you are only making the feeling worse."

She knelt on all fours, awash in her fears and the pain and discomfort of their coupling. A flush of heat pooled in her belly. Her face felt flush. She felt Adir touch her cheek from behind, "You need to breathe. Now. Slowly. Deeply."

Vala gasped. Whimpered.

Would she die like her mother too? Would her child grow up without her?

It hurt to breathe. She knew there was blood again.

"There..."

He groaned, his body shivering. More heat spread through her belly. Vala barely noticed.

Minutes passed without her awareness of them; suddenly, she was on her side, Adir curled against her, his hands exploring her belly. His attentions left her sore, far more than they normally did. The physical pain, however, measured as nothing compared to the utter desolation that had become her world.

She felt herself begin to shake.

"Vala?"

Again and again, words repeated in her mind. She carried Adir's offspring. Like her mother, Vala was to carry for the benefit of another.

"Vala...?"

There was no escape.

"Vala."

His voice grew stern, insistent.

She would die like her mother. Her child would live as Vala had, alone and in doubt.

"Vala."

She buried her face in her hands. She did not want to see.

She did not want to feel.

There was no escape.

She wept. She wept as she had not, could not, when she had watched her mother die. She wept as she had not when she was trapped in the darkness of the Underdark all alone. She wept as she had not when Eilistraee had rejected her.

Why? Why did she have to give him this?!

Adir turned her to face him. She saw the distress on his face, the compassion, the genuine compassion.

"Why do you cry, Vala?" he asked, his hands peeling hers away.

Her entire body shook. The tears flowed as they never had.

Again and again they repeated; there was no escape.

He pressed her head against his chest, shushing her, letting her do as she would.

"Listen to me. I know; you are afraid. You feel like this is the end of something. But it isn't. This is a happy moment. This is a beginning."

She wept, babbling incoherently, all dignity lost, and he rocked her like a babe, like her mother had.

"You are my wife, Vala. You may think that I only wish to be your master, but I wish to be your husband. You mean so much more to me than you think. And do you know why that is?"

She looked back to him, stricken. The flow of tears abated.

He smiled, "Because I love you."

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, tilting his head so that he could lean down kiss her, just a light tap of the lips, just enough to show her that he would not press his suit. Not at that moment.

"I do. And it hurts me so terribly that I have caused you further pain, and distress, when you have suffered plenty of both in this life already. But I assure you that this is a passing feeling. You will accustom to your place here. Soon, I will take you to my court, and then to wherever grounds my feet tread. I will always be there for you, as you will always be by my side."

"If you feel alone at this moment...you need not. I am here for you. As is our child. You will never be alone again."

Still the words echoed: there was no escape.

"Sleep, Vala. I will be here tomorrow, and we can do what we will together."

Still the words echoed: there was no escape.

But just for a moment, a fleeting moment, they did not bear such horrid gravity.

He cradled her as everything dimmed, as her turmoil lessened with her awareness.

Before she slipped away, there was a moment in which it didn't seem so terrible.

For a moment, she did not want to escape.

Chapter 5

Almraiven, Calimshan (26th of Nightal, 1379 Dalereckoning)

He spent the day at rest, as he had promised.

After they broke fast, Adir sent for his carriage, and led his wife around Almraiven. Over a score of his personal guard accompanied by horseback. As they rode, they sat side by side, his arm about her waist.

Adir left his turban and his non-magical ornamentation behind, favoring a long tunic of embroidered white linen, a pair of black woolen breeches, and sandals of intricately braided leather. Thick plated bracers covered his wrists, and a gold scarab pendant with a ruby thorax hung from his neck on a thin chain, that would transport both him and his wife back to the manse at a moment's notice.

Vala wore her robe, a slim brown cloak, and a Hijab; a long strip of thin cloth that was wrapped about the lower half of her face, concealing everything below the bridge of the nose. Beside the hooded cloak, it was a necessary covering for most Calimshan females in public.

He showed her the noble houses of the city, each owned by a Vicelord or their closest subordinates. Each manse featured at least three floors, and, unlike the houses in thief-plagued Calimport, were lavishly decorated with brightly colored stone and marble, draping, embroidered curtains, and stained glass shutters with intricate patterns. Many depicted the sunburst motif in yellows and reds, about a dark sky represented in dark blues and purples.

She stared through the carriage veil that hid them from sight with genuine curiosity. Likely, she had only seen much of the city during nightfall.

Along one grand avenue there rested temples to the various deities popular to Calimshan, though, like Sembia, trade and wealth was the most venerated majesty, not religion.

Nonetheless, Azuth, Champion of Mystra, Tyr, Bhaelros, known to the northerners as Talos the Thunderer, and Illmater, warranted the largest buildings, rivaling the noble houses in size. In their shadows, stood smaller, humbler structures. Savras, Umberlee, Tiamat, and Waukeen were thus represented.

He also noticed, with a grimace, the black spire devoted to Shar's practices that hid directly in the darkness cast by Illmater's house. That was certainly no accident...

They also visited the docks, and enjoyed a view of the sea.

He identified the triangular-masted schooners and the heavier, bulkier caravels; their points of origin, and the goods they transported in and out of Almraiven. Dockhands loaded and unloaded creates and barrels, filled with salt, wine, and fresh water; the most valuable goods to a desert community. Gold, minerals, and weapons, they shipped out, to all the trade ports from Waterdeep to Impiltur.

Vala averted her eyes as a ship out of the Skullport, a city hidden beneath Waterdeep's deeper reaches, began unloading lines of Human slaves linked by iron shackles.

He had rented out an entire eatery beforehand, one of the most expensive in all the city, and they dined alone in a small amphitheatre to the performance of a score of minstrels that enthusiastically set the mood, before moving on to the bazaar, from which all manner of goods could be bought.

Vala had said little thus far. When he studied her, she met his gaze, but not in defiance. She looked relaxed, almost serene, but unlike the revel, where he had first seen her unmasked, it was genuine.

"We will stop again for a moment." he told her, gently taking her hand in his, "There is a tailor in my employ, and she will take your measurements for a selection of gowns."

She nodded, her eyes averted.

"You can talk you me, you know."

She eyed him, her expression...clouded.

"Really." Adir continued, grinning, "I mean that. I meant what I said last night, as well."

"Every word?" she asked, teetering.

"Every word." he replied, setting a hand on her belly, "You have more than my attention. You have my ear, and my heart."

"Gods..." she stammered, "Who are you, to speak like this?!"

The carriage pulled up to its next stop. A deceptively simple, single story flat, with closed shutters and a reinforced door. It hid its wealth well.

"I am me." he replied with a grin, "And believe me when I say, there is nobody else like me. Now then, in you go."

He opened the carriage door, the bulk of their vehicle hiding them from view of the street traffic. Leading her by the waist, Adir knocked on the door, and waited a ten-count.

...

"Just a moment." a woman shouted from the other side of the door, "Just a moment, now."

Adir cleared his throat, shifting impatiently, and there was a crash on the other side, followed by a curse and a flurry of heavy footsteps.

"You will have to excuse Basimah." he said with a chuckle, "Her eccentric behavior is tolerated because of the quality of her work."

What was that supposed to mean?

Vala tensed as the door swung open, revealing a Half-Elf woman with a long, angular face, bright blue eyes with heavy, dark lids, and a frenzied expression on her face. The slim streaks of grey in her honey-blond hair, which was tied in a thick plait, served as the only sign betraying her age.

Her wide smile also betrayed her perfect teeth, but more importantly, the scarred remnants of a brand on the inside of her lips. A brand with remarkable similarity to Adir's.

Behind her, Vala saw a main room with a barren fireplace in the rear. Glowballs lined the corners of the chamber, fully illuminating the wooden paneling of the floor and walls. A door resided on the right side, likely to a bedroom. Beside it was a table, a set of rosewood chairs, and a small kitchen. The entire left side of the house was Basimah's workshop. Shelves upon shelves of stacked fabrics, hanging racks of tunics, robes, gowns, and all manner of clothing, filled this part of the room with such density Vala briefly wondered how the entire property had not collapsed under its own weight and slid into the sands forever. Larger rolls of fabric, likely for carpets, leaned against the far corner or hung from specialized racks, similar in appearance to those that tanned leather. An assortment of hats and turbans, some incomplete in one way or another, rested atop a weathered desk, held up by metal stands. Several full body mannequins were lined up before a set of mirrors around a raised dais of sorts, which comprised the other far corner.

"Adir! Welcome back, Adir. I trust the last order suited your tastes? Never mind that, who is this? Come in, come in! Let me take a look."

The woman dragged her in by the arm, Adir closing the door behind them. "Now then..." Basimah said, looking her up and down, "Who are you?"

"Umm...Vala." she replied, uncomfortable.

Her hands blurring with the practiced speed and dexterity that put a Dark Elf pickpocket to shame, this Basimah had pulled free her cloak and Hijab, hung it on the wall, led her around the many hazards obstructing their path, and set her atop the wooden platform surrounded by mirrors, stepping back and pursing her lips, thoughtful.

Vala shifted uncomfortably as she looked at her reflection, the better to avoid Basimah's scrutiny.

What she saw instead was far more disturbing.

She had gained at least five pounds, and several inches of hair. Her cheek, breasts, and thighs had thickened slightly, accentuating her body's curves. Her posture had changed; she looked more at ease. She looked less like a Dark Maiden of Eilistraee, or a thief of Calimshan.

With her long hair, jeweled choker, and silken robe, she looked more like the pampered Elf and Human females consisting of Faerûnian nobility. She looked like the people she used to steal from...

She bristled, and in turn saw herself tense, before looking away.

Adir noticed her discomfiture. Basimah did not.

"Well now, Vala..." she paused, thoughtful, "...you look just..."

"Adorable!" she gasped, rummaging through her stock, hurling undesirable fabrics over her shoulder, "Oh, just wonderful! I have so many ideas on what we can use. No faded or dark shades for you, my dear. Bright pastels and gold trimming! Nothing better for a lordly lady of Almraiven. Or was it lady of a lord of Almraiven? Oh! Here we are! Yes, this will look lovely on you!"

"I think I will leave you to your work..." Adir said, chuckling as this crazed Faerie elf started setting various textiles against her skin, "Basimah, get her measurements before you start having her try on anything. Keep in mind she will need maternity clothes as well. And Vala, do try to have fun."

He went for the door, and Vala was able to send him a desperate, pleading look at the sight of the high collared dress with the vibrant pink hue Basimah had taken from the hanger...

...

Adir waited patiently at his carriage, laying down atop its roof with his arms tucked behind his head, eyes drawn to the shifting skies. Though most of the sky was clear, he could see a concentration of low-hanging clouds swirling in agitation far in the distance.

Likely, they were due for another tornado. The summer often brought them, though should one ever skirt Almraiven itself, King Ahriman would repel it with his sorcery and a unique artifact held in the highest chamber of the palace; a secret known only to the firstborn males of the royal family, though Adir had learned of its existence with great difficulty.

You never knew when that sort of information might come in handy.

"Sir..." Sabih shouted from below, "A message for you. It bears the broken seal of Bhaelros."

His mood immediately deteriorated, and a sickly, cold feeling settled in his chest. The seal of Bhaelros was the seal of none other than Ralan el Pesarkhal, Archmage and Syl-Pasha of Calimshan.

A few years prior, the blue wyrm Iryklathagra had attacked the Plaza of Divine Truth in Calimport. During its battle with the city garrison, the dragon had destroyed an idol of Bhaelros, which summoned an aspect of the god. The two mighty beings battled and destroyed most of the Palace Ward, before Iryklathagra was driven off by the deity's manifestation.

But the god had been displeased by the destruction of his symbol, and had remained to punish his followers and the people of Calimshan as a whole.

The city's defenders managed to bring down the manifestation of the god but this only enraged him further. Lightning bolts rained down constantly upon the city from that moment and throughout the next year.

The Syl-Pasha had been trying to regain the favor of Bhaelros, and, in so doing, he had made the god's emblem his own, though Bhaelros' continued anger marred the symbol into near-illegibility wherever it was made in his name. The letter itself stank of smoke, as if it were prepared next to a coal furnace.

Not wanting to read it, Adir nonetheless summoned a cloud of choking fumes about his body, leaving a shallow pocket of air for himself and thus sealing himself from the rest of the world, and tore open the letter's seal and inspected its contents.

Damn.

The Syl-Pasha wanted to confer with him over the recent string of thievery and the unrest in the city, via his representative, of course. He was in no uncertain terms commanding Adir to attend this in Calimport immediately.

Scowling, Adir incinerated the document with a hastily recited spell and dismissed the obscuring cloud about his person.

"Sabih..." he said, sitting up and in turn looking over the edge at his soldier, "Bring Vala to the house. Ensure she has at least another full meal, preferably of lamb, before she sleeps; at this stage of her pregnancy, she needs plenty of fat and protein. I must depart on my own."

Used to his infrequent dealings with the Syl-Pasha only through his many years of service, the soldier nodded without question. Adir had thankfully kept the vast majority of his spell components hidden about his person, and readied a swift teleportation back to his house, but not before surrendering his amulet to Sabih, who in turn took it without a word.

The order was clear; if there was trouble, he was to reach Vala and use it to get her to safety. Adir was not so foolish to think that the Syl-Pasha was not aware of her, or her involvement in present events.

He was also not so foolish to think that there might not be more immediate retaliation.

...

Vala found that when that door finally, mercifully opened, she still possessed the agility of a Darksong Knight, if not the dignity. Blinded, she rushed forward, and found herself in a man's arms, who led her into the carriage.

But did not join her in it.

She strained against the painful light to see, and thought she saw glinting mail armor.

"Lord Adir had urgent business, and needed to attend it. We will accompany you back to the manse." Sabih said dryly, already climbing atop the carriage to join the driver, out of sight. Had he been up there the whole time? She had not seen him among the mounted soldiers.

With the crack of a whip and the bleating grunt of the long-necked, humped, ill-tempered desert horses, the vehicle lurched forward, towards the manse.

Towards whatever else Adir had in store for her.

...

"Is it him?" the Halfling Nubi asked his brother Nabi quietly, as the poorly dressed vagabond entered the alleyway they watched from above.

"No." Nabi replied testily, "Just a drunk. Look how he leans over himself. He is going to piss in our alleyway."

"We should do something about...oh, never mind. There he goes." Nubi groaned, waving his hand about his face, as if to brush away the odor, though they were too far up to actually smell it.

"How long are we going to wait?" he pressed, to which Nabi, the more patient of the two, grimaced, "As long as we need to, brother. Hush."

Balancing on his hairy toes, then on his ankles, and then toes, Nubi fiddled with his crossbow, a deadly implement of steel that could penetrate plate armor, and required a great deal of force to load.

It took most over a ten-count to set another bolt to fire. It took Nubi only a three-count. He was the strong one of the two. He could wield a crossbow normally too large for a Halfling, if too small for a Human.

Nabi held a wand, one of many he kept in a bandolier under his cloak. He was the smart one.

Barboris had told them to learn of the sneaky little thief trying to make the Vicelords of Almraiven go to war, and worse, to steal their business.

That was good, because Nubi and Nabi had many friends, friends in high places, and low places. Friends who knew interesting things, and quickly learned interesting things.

They knew it was a small party influencing their city, fewer than five, actually. The priesthoods were not involved. Erona Firelash was not involved; she would not have so blatantly attacked a fellow Vicelord if she was hiding something. Now she had the eyes of the entire city on her. It was the only reason she had not raided Adir's holdings by now.

No, no. Not that one.

And they had to be of Almraiven. Yes, yes, they did. Because...because...

"I told you for the third time already." Nabi hissed, sensing Nubi's thoughts like he always did, "Because neither Calimshan or Memnon mobilize for an invasion. They would if this was a precursor to attack. It is a coup from within, or a mask for something else entirely. Now be quiet. Our informant will be here soon."

Nodding, Nubi did as he was told. Brother always knew what was best.

...

Adir materialized in the exact spot he studied his spell book each morning. Immediately, he considered several powerful items to place upon his person before meeting with Ralan el Pesarkhal's representative.

He started, however, finding a man sitting at his table, no less than five paces from where he now stood.

"Well hello, Adir." A modestly dressed, middle aged Human said politely, even jovially, his perfect teeth revealed by his thin smile, "You were very prompt with the letter. That is good."

Damn. Damn and damned twice more...

"What can I say..." Adir replied, concealing his nervousness as only one with nearly a century of experience in political backbiting could manage, "The interest of the Syl-Pasha is my interest."

The Human's smile widened, though a part of its import was hidden; most men might not notice, but Adir did.

Ralan el Pesarkhal was not at all amused by his flattery.

Most had never seen the man. Many had, but did not realize it. This Human, barely past his forties, certainly could not be the wizened Archmage who was well into his dotage, and would live far longer than nature would rightfully allow of most men.

Adir knew better; being an Elf, he knew well that one's appearance could hide one's age and experience.

The man claimed to be an agent, an emissary of the Syl-Pasha. His relatively simple clothing and modest appearance seemed to support that.

But he was too heavily warded for a mere emissary.

Divinations and scrying crumbled before him.

Adir had conceived the defenses only through the use of a fabled Wish Staff the sheer power of the enchantments, defensive and offensive, about his person. The layered network of woven magic had formed shifting patterns of such immaculate complexity and chilling gravity that he had only puzzled out small fragments of their meanings, but even that experience had nearly doubled his own arcane might.

It had been this that had given him the power to murder his predecessor and assume lordship over his assets.

Adir in his prime, with the full access of his magical servants and enchanted items, would last only a few minutes in a wizard's duel against such a foe.

As he was, minimally armed, he would only last a few seconds.

"There have been..." Ralan said idly, as if discussing trivialities, "Concerns, that the Sovereign of Calimshan has been made aware of. I was hoping you could clarify these concerns, and your efforts to deescalate them."

"If you mean that...unfortunate misunderstanding with Erona..." Adir replied, noncommittally, "You can rest assured we have patched things up nicely."

"And the instigators?"

Whoever said there was more than one? Did the Syl-Pasha already complete his investigation?

Adir shrugged, "I have dealt with the thief, but not the client, or clients. I intend to smoke them out in due time."

"This thief, this...outsider. You have "dealt" with her, yes?"

Relax. You are prepared for this.

"She will be no threat to the continued stability of this city."

"If you are so certain."

Adir paused, "Yes. I have a way of making it so all parties get what they wish. Aside from the buyer, of course. Too bad about them."

The Syl-Pasha nodded, seemingly pleased.

Adir read it for what it was; he did not have much time to find the culprits before Ralan would take matters into his own hands. Ralan had in no uncertain terms tasked him with uncovering the benefactor of Vala's thefts, the one who was trying to create a feud between the Vicelords and their small armies. Ralan had also in no uncertain terms warned that if he should fail to do so expediently, culprits would be found. Adir knew more of the man than most still alive. Ralan would make an example of whoever he would to restore order.

Likely, his connection to Vala, a known accomplice, would condemn them both to a grisly execution.

"Very well then, Pasha Adir. Do as you must. I would hate to see such lawless brigands roam free in these lands."

My lands.

Another unspoken queue.

"Of course. Good night to you, sir."

"And to you."

There was ripple of distorted space, a soft pop of displaced air, and the Syl-Pasha was gone, likely returned to his private manse in Calimport.

Leaving Adir to his thoughts.

For now.

Knowing he would get no sleep, Adir decided he would renew his efforts, checking in with his contacts and agents, both magical and mundane.

He would get his answers.

...

For the first night since her capture, Vala slept alone.

Despite how tired she felt, how tired she commonly felt now, she found Adir's bed to be far too large for her to sleep in alone. Its thin sheets and wide surface made her feel exposed, even with its curtains drawn.

Unable to relax, she sat up, crossed her legs, and tried again to meditate.

Minutes passed, and her breathing steadied. Her mind emptied. She felt everything up to the connection with her Mindscape; the relaxed muscles, the feeling of weightlessness. For a brief moment, she heard chimes.

But again the connection to her powers evaded her. Her sense of focus crumbled. It was not the usual culprit; a tightness about her neck, a brief mental image of the collar's sapphire, and the complete interruption of her thought processes.

Instead, it was a bout of painful cramps.

She doubled over, groaning, her hands at her lower abdomen.

The baby. Her baby.

Frustrated beyond measure, Vala held back tears as the discomfort slowly abated, leaving her again where she had started. Trapped, and uncertain.

She hated the feeling.

Vala twisted out of bed, and began pacing about it.

Something had broken in her after last night; she no longer considered the steps she might take once she slipped away from the house. On the first morning, it had been clear; steal back her personal wealth, use it all to bribe someone, guild or not, to chisel out the sapphire in the collar, and use her powers to slip into the guild storehouse and steal its treasures and retire somewhere far from Adir or the Guildmaster or anybody else. Maybe even barter her way back into the Promenade, to become a simple ley-worshipper, though she had wanted a house by the sea, the better to watch the stars in peace and seclusion...

But now...now...

Now all Vala wanted to do at that moment was get outside the manse's stifling walls. She was not even sure if she would not just walk right back in after.

Too much connected her to it. Too much connected her to Adir.

DAMN HIM! Was it not enough that he had despoiled her body? Was it not enough that he had made her doubt herself, doubt the benefit of becoming Nobody? Was it not enough that she was forced to carry his offspring?!

But he also had to make her think that perhaps it was for the best that she was here, in this situation?

He also had to be genuine in his attraction to her, his...romantic attraction? He had to make her feel like she would be at home in this place, that she could sacrifice everything she had fought so hard for, for him? For the promises he made to her? For a home? For a family?

Troubled, doubting herself and her cause as she never had, Vala considered her future.

She thought of her mother, and wept.

Again, that pain, as integral to her being as her psionimancy, returned in full.

Again, that despair, that hopelessness, that loneliness, returned in full.

And in an instant, her indecision cleared. The doubts ceased to be.

She knew her path, and knew it to be the correct one.

She looked to the balcony.

Adir had forgotten to lock the shutters; likely, he had forgotten all about it with whatever had happened to take him from his bedroom tonight.

...

"Not Drakan either..." Nubi said, deflating.

"No." Nabi replied, equally disheartened, "It would seem not. The Illusionist Vicelord is not a part of the conspiracy."

That one had sent similar requests as Adir in regards to the investigation of the thefts. Barboris had asked Lady Loss to tell him what it meant. Drakan was not the one. Shar had told him so. But other than that, she kept her counsel. So it always was with the lady of secrets...

Nubi passed his hands in the ritual warding, to stave off her anger.

"Then who? Who?"

"None of them know."

"What about Amon?"

"Amon?" brother asked, "He is Adir's ally, and the king's. Why would he-"

"Wait..." Nabi continued, "Amon Therzhun has been buying up many slaves lately. Entire galleons were emptied."

"An army?" Nubi asked, to which brother shook his head, "Nay; food for an army. Amon summons devils and demons, remember."

Oh, yeah. His namesake was an archfiend, Mammon: Lord of Minauros, the third layer of the hells.

And Mammon was and greedy and lustful, unusually untrustworthy, says the stories.

But weren't all devils? And demons? What was the difference between the two?

He could never remember...

"That many slaves could feed many creatures of both the hells and the abyss." Brother continued, "Maybe he wants to set himself like the Dark Elves, under a demon prince. Or princess. The thefts would be the perfect cover for his mischief."

"But didn't Vala steal from him too?" Nubi asked, and Nabi grinned, "Cover. Something he could do without. Why would he need the Sword of Bahamut if he had an army of demons in wait? Let us look closer into his dealings. Maybe he sank a certain mound of funds on other ventures..."

...

An hour before sunrise, Sabih arrived at Adir's bedroom, a servant carrying the lady's next meal beside him on a platter.

He could not believe his eyes after he unlocked and opened the door.

"Inform the others." he snapped, sending the thrall out of the room with a rough shove.

He had to tell Adir.

Oh, gods, his lord would have his head for this!

...

Adir returned to his room after Sabih ran to him, nearly in hysterics.

And indeed found it empty. Vala was nowhere to be seen.

Ignoring the panic settling in his chest, he activated a reagent in his belt pouch, and teleported to the rooftop.

At the higher level, his gargoyle roost, he had a view of nearly all the city. And so, he spotted her easily, as the sun became a thin red line on the horizon, already banishing the night chill with the coming of morning.

She sat at the edge of the roof, her hands pressed against the tiles for balance, her legs dangling over the edge. From her position, he knew she had somehow climbed up from the balcony, and chosen nearly the same spot from which to perch.

It made no sense; she had a means to leave, but did not take it. Obviously, she felt trapped regardless. But there was one way out, and perhaps she was considering it...

She faced away from him. A second spell brought him beside her.

She tensed at his approach, the muscles in her back clenching, but otherwise, she made no reaction.

He sat beside her, saying nothing.

For how long, he could not say, there was silence.

"Everything looks to much larger up here, on the surface." Vala said calmly, her eyes on the horizon, "If you can get high enough, it feels like you can see the whole world, laid out before you. But you know that what you see is but the smallest portion of the whole. You realize that when you stand upon a desert, you can see only a small patch of sand. It makes one feel...small".

"Aye." Adir replied, "There is truth, there".

"As a child, I only knew of the Duskryn Manor. For all I knew, that mansion, the bunkhouse, and the mushroom groves, was the entirety of the world. In my adolescence, I only knew of the Underdark. For all I knew, that was the entirety of the world. When I looked upon the night sky for the first time, it was like my mind was opened to the real scope of everything, and the place I had in it. I realized that Matron Duskryn, Alirana, and all the others that had seemed to rule everything I knew, were really just as small of a part of this world as I was".

"Since everyone was really so small in the grand scope of things, I made a promise to my mother's spirit; now that I knew the truth, I could and would become more. I would study my art, and seek others as well so that I could know them, and learn their arts. That I would become stronger, stronger and wiser than anyone else. I would become powerful enough to rule this world, make it how I saw fit, so that nobody ever had to die like her ever again."

She frowned, "I was so naive. So foolish".

Adir frowned, "Not so much. I had entertained such notions when I entered adulthood. It is a part of growing, to reach for more, to try to better ourselves".

This was good; it didn't sound like someone considering suicide.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. She did not even flinch at his touch, so he pulled her in, resting her head against his chest. "I wish I had been given more time to know my mother. Maybe she could have helped me understand my part in this world."

He did not comment at the abrupt change in subject, "We always regret and wonder about those we loved and have lost".

"Love? There is no word for love in the Goblin tongue. Before leaping onto the Goristro, my mother seemed to puzzle for something to say, before deciding on "Be strong, and live free"."

She considered that for a time, wavering, before adding, "I think...I think what she really wanted to say was how much she loved me, but she had no way of expressing it. I wish she had. I wish also that I could have fulfilled the words she had said. "Be strong, and Live free". I have done neither of those things; in trying to become Nobody, I have become nothing. In trying to make this world better, I succumbed to my baser impulses and took what I wanted from it instead for my own benefit. I became a slave to my own fears; the fear of pain, the fear of loss. I am more free now, with you, than I have been since leaving the Promenade."

She looked up to him, in tears but also smiling, "I have made so many mistakes. But you did not hold them against me. You did not hold my lineage against me. You did not hold anything against me. You have been honest with me as nobody has since my mother."

"You say that you love me. There is no word for love in the Goblin tongue, so I have no idea what it really means. I guess...that I have nothing better to do at the moment but follow your lead, and let you show me the truth of this, if you will still have me."

She frowned, leaning into him, slightly, ever so slightly, her head leading. She paused, uncertainly, and Adir knew that that moment that he could have crushed her with refusal. But he had no desire to refuse. He smiled back, leaned down, and met her kiss. She tensed, then softened with a light sigh, matching his intensity, even intimating on her own. Her belly shivered, as did her arms when he ran his hands down them, pressing her body against his.

He gently ended the kiss, satisfied, "That I would. Come. Let us return to bed."

Chapter 6

Almraiven, Calimshan (27th of Nightal, 1379 Dalereckoning)

The next morning, he sent his wife to be pampered by her servants. His other wives he officially pushed away, to live in seclusion about the lower levels of his manor. And he had declared to all of his thralls a new, favored wife.

Two hours at the bathhouse, one at the hairdresser, and then another long afternoon at the tailor. Vala's final conditioning took much of the day, ere he could present her formally.

He waited outside the latter, in the markets, sitting on a bench beside his guards and passing the time by sketching a new rune he had been considering onto a small notepad. The sun was still high on the horizon, its heat searing the arid air of the desert as it clashed with the cooler, more humid air from the Shining Sea. The regular din of the crowd was a constant, though none, even the lesser nobles, approached him with his full retinue present.

He had not seen her all morning; his first sight would be her at her finest.

He rose to his feet quickly as the door opened, excited. What he saw nearly took his feet from under him. The people quieted, and more than one pair of eyes followed his gaze.

"So..." Vala asked sheepishly as she stepped out, hands cupped together at her waist, her eyes averted and to the side, "...How do I look?"

Adir grinned rakishly, studying her. From her eyes, which gleamed with something between embarrassment and hopefulness, her hair was cut in uneven lengths, the longest of which draped down her shoulders and back in wavy lengths, a lock parted just over her left eye, partially concealing it. That lock, which had been originally stark white, was dyed a gradient of soft blues into a dark, deep night sky blue in its center.

Her ear lobes, reddened and lightly swollen, were double-pierced: the first pair, near the backs, were small gold-settled sapphire studs, the second pair, nearer to the front, a trio of delicate, draping lengths of sapphire crystals, almost like a curtain, which conjoined at the top. They make sounds akin to wind chimes when she moved, though it was nearly inaudible. Her Ajna Chakra had been re-tattooed, now the color of burnished gold. Down her slender neck, which still held the psionic-dampening choker, he saw a few lengths of slim gold necklaces beaded with lapis lazuli, a fine glistening mineral with golden flecks in their deep blue surfaces. On her hands, she wore a pair of slave bracelets; wristbands of thinly spun gold, which connected by chains to a ring on each of her middle fingers.

Beside the adornments, she was clothed in slim light blue garments, almost aqua, which closely mirrored the regalia favored by dancers in the region; a sleeveless, lightly immodest plunging top with a small crest of beads and sequins along the tighter, almost corset-style waist, which ended above her lower belly, displaying her naval. Her skirt featured a v-shaped belt made with tightly spun and knotted embroidery and was parted up to the thigh, allowing ease of movement, though a second, inner skirt with a darker shade partially hid the gap from sight and weighted the piece as a whole. A matching veil partially obscured the lower half of her face, though it was translucent enough to offer hints. She also wore sandals of braided leather, and her finger and toenails were trimmed and painted.

"Perfect." he replied honestly, running a hand along the ridge of her cheekbone and throat, "Though I detest the thought of hiding your face with a Hijab when outside the palace grounds".

Shrugging, he parted the veil and kissed her, deeply, appreciating the subtle, earthy scent of agarwood and myrrh set on her skin, and made a note of thanking Basimah later, "How do you feel?".

She gave him a longsuffering look, "Sore and tired. Please...can we go home soon?"

"Certainly, my love. I will show you off a little about my court. Then, you can lay down for the rest of the day, if you wish."

She nodded demurely, and sighed, closing her eyes contentedly, as he idly followed up with another, lighter kiss.

Her two handmaidens, Amara and Durrah, carried several wrapped bundles; the beginnings of her wardrobe, no doubt. He needed not inspect them; Basimah did good work. It was why he continued to do business with her, even though female traders without husbands were held in low regard in Calimshan and it damaged his social standing.

With great regret, he wrapped Vala with a cloak of thin, finely spun cream-brown linen, and led her back to the carriage, hand in hand. He needed not force her; she walked freely beside him, as he wanted. Adir bit back his grin at the many staring eyes observing the display; a Dark Elf was no common occurrence, even in a trade port.

Vala wilted under the scrutiny, but allowed him to lead her into the carriage, wherein he sat her against him.

He did not share her unease; let them see his new, favored wife, and be agog. He imagined the rumors that would spread; a military alliance with Menzoberranzan or the scattered factions of surface Drow, a trade partner in the Underdark, or even an assimilation of a noble family thereof. Let them wonder what this meant, why he had made her existence public. It would make it that easier to catch his enemies off guard, and expose them.

Even as their transport made its way back to his manor, he left the curtains half-parted, revealing the prying eyes of the commoners.

Word traveled faster than they did; several followed behind them in order to catch a glimpse.

"They are all staring at us..." she whispered, shivering, her hands clenching in her lap, to which he chuckled, "They are staring at you, my love."

The Half-Drow cast him a pleading look, and he leaned her against his side, steadying her, "Come now; there you stood, the most beautiful woman in Calimshan, and you expected not to suffer the indignity of a few prying eyes?"

She was tense, and he knew precisely why.

He knew, as well, how to placate her.

"You have lived all your life without realizing your beauty, Vala." he said, lifting her head by the chin so that he could lock eyes, "But now you see the effect it has on those around you. Your words, your smile, will have far-reaching effects beyond the point of a sword or the loss or gain of some trinket. Men and women will rush to please you, to endear themselves to you, because of your beauty, inner and outer, far more than your station or your connection to me."

He chuckled, watching the play of emotions run their course across her face, though he could only see her eyes clearly, "You may have thought those stares to be fear over the course of your life; indeed, an armed Drow provokes such a response in most sane people. But mixed with it was curiosity, and desire. Now that you are as you are; your natural appearance fortified by silk and blush and gold, the fear reduces as its companions strengthen. But does not dissipate entirely. Remember that you still have weapons that you can use; your smile, your charm, your kindness, and your intellect."

That seemed to calm her, so he eased his grip, "I will give you the opportunity to hone these weapons soon; I have been invited to a revel in Silverymoon, of all places. And I have no intention to traveling there alone. It seems that certain parties therein wish to associate with the many Pashas of Calimshan. Likely, the more reputable sorts, for a change. What a wondrous opportunity this is!"

"But what about the unrest here?" Vala asked, "What about the buyer?"

She had ascertained much of his current endeavors; he, like most, had underestimated the intellect of a beautiful woman. Oh well; he never made mistakes more than once.

While the carriage was fortified with several permanent enchantments that protected it from attack and divination, he also hastily recited a minor cantrip that cancelled all sound that emerged from it, without altering the sounds that entered. He also covered his mouth with his scarf, ensuring none would read his lips.

"Hah. Well, that will work itself out, I think." he replied, gazing out of the opening in the carriage with confidence in the fact that he would not be overheard, "While I am away, our enemies will think themselves safe, and regain their confidence to continue the string of crimes. But I have eyes and ears still in Almraiven..."

...

"We have it, brother!" Nubi cheered excitedly, "We have him!"

Brother smiled too; the damning evidence was right there for them to see. The Sword of Bahamut. The Orb of Annihilation. They were there, in Amon's hidden trove!

Nubi often had to use coin or threats to learn from the citizens of Almraiven, but sometimes more was needed. Nabi, a smart little wizard, was a diviner, and in their room, he proudly held his crystal ball aloft, revealing the treasures where they stood.

Hidden by clever enchantments, though Amon was no illusionist, those defenses had crumbled before brother's art with great effort to reveal the first layer of the hells, Avernus; a vast charred wasteland of rubble over which the iron towers of the disgraced Dukes of Hell stood. The trove was stored in a sealed chamber within the tallest tower.

Everyone knew that Amon hid his greatest treasures outside of the world of Toril, save those he carried on his person. A Demon-conjurer, the Vicelord had curried favors among many mortals, and any immortals, including, so it was rumored, including Lord Bel, the closest thing to an Archduke in that shattered realm. With this knowledge, and an shred of Amon's clothing (attained at no small cost from one of the many blowsy mistresses he owned and generally kept on a tight leash!), Nabi had placed a magical tracer on the latent enchantments about Amon's person, including a dimensional doorway.

From that doorway, it had been a simple thing to spy upon the trove without triggering alarm spells.

"The chamber is protected." Nabi reported, his brow creased as his bloodshot eyes darted over the surface of the orb, "Physical entry would summon a host of demons, and inform both the Vicelord and Lord Bel."

"Good thing we don't need to go to the trove, hmmm, brother." Nubi replied, grinning and not caring that his crooked tooth was showing.

"Indeed, brother. Barboris and Adir will both want to see this image. I will transcribe this moment into the orb. They can use it as evidence to convict Amon, and through King Ahriman, sentence him to death."

Chapter 7

Silverymoon, The Silver Marches (3rd of Hammer, 1380 Dalereckoning)

When he had told her about the upcoming event, Vala had assumed that Adir meant to begin a long, arduous journey back north into the Silver Marches via boat and by carriage, as she had traveled from Silverymoon to Almraiven, but in reverse order.

She had wondered briefly what it might feel like to make that journey; to step back through time.

Instead, he had transported their entire retinue with them into Silverymoon instantly by way of hired magic-users, making her consideration of the subject a moot point.

Their carriage set down in a veritable forest of precisely arranged tall, angular buildings with tiled, pointed rooftops, distinctive elven flourishes prominent in their elegantly curving balconies and doorways. Soft creamy-brown stone and timbers were the consistent building material of their houses, though iron and brass railings were abundant, as were glass windows with delicate inner shutters.

Lanterns of intricate hand-blown glass burned brightly in the twilight of late dusk, the stars faint but visible in the gloom.

Citizens were scarce; small clusters of Humans and surface Elves observed their arrival, on the other side of velvet rope barriers sectioning off the space on which their convoy must have selected to arrive upon in advance.

They were met with curious glances by Silverymoon's guards; the reputed Knights in Silver; the very force that aided in the defense of Mithral Hall decades prior against the armies of her own native Menzoberranzan. Their expressions soured as they noticed her, but their leader, a man atop a fine white stallion, approached and bowed respectfully.

He was Human, roughly in his late thirties, with a northerner's pale skin and chiseled features, and a finely groomed mustache which curled at its tips and matched his pointed goatee. His hair was hidden beneath a mail coif. Unlike the others, his steel arming cap was crowned with a tuft of bright plumage; a distinguishing trait that betrayed superior rank, perhaps.

"Welcome, Lord Adir of Almraiven." he said evenly, "I am Knight-Errant Araboz the Wall, Senior Captain under Sernius Alathar. My men and I are to escort you and your..."

He eyed her uncertainly, and Adir chuckled, and finished the sentence, "My Favored Wife."

"Aye." Araboz replied, "You, your wife, and your retinue, to the festivities, as this is your first time in Silverymoon."

It was both a question and a statement, and Adir nodded, "My guards have their horses, and we have our method of transport. We are ready when you are."

Frowning thoughtfully, the soldier nodded, and as she and Adir entered the carriage beside the ropes, he followed just to the side, so that they could converse.

And so that he could keep an eye on her, Vala reasoned.

"We are just beyond the Moorgate..." Adir explained, motioning to the densely packed buildings to their left, which stood before a large wall of quarried stone, "The western entrance to Silverymoon. South of us is the River Rauvin, and before us is Helmer's Wall, which contains the inns and taverns that house the sailors and adventurers that arrive in ships from the Rauvin. We will skirt its edges and pass the markets, which are closed this time of day. Around the Silverglen, our host has arranged an outdoor pavilion. We will join the festivities there, and you can remove your Hijab."

While it was customary for Calimshan women to wear certain coverings when in public, an outdoor festival was considered, to an extent, akin to an indoor palace from which a revel could rightfully be undertaken; the territory belonging to the host and thus made acceptable for feasting and the removal of the Hijab.

Or at least that was what Adir had told her; she knew little of Calimshan's customs, and what she had learned since becoming Adir's wife had not been pleasing to her sensibilities.

"Why did we have to arrive so far from the Silverglen?" she asked, to which Adir smiled, shaking his head, "We didn't. I chose the location, Vala. It pays to arrive to the party an hour or so late, as we have, and in style. We go at our own pace, and in our own manner."

"Vala, was it?" Araboz said, easily keeping pace atop his horse, "I will not overly judge you based on your heritage; Drizzt Do'Urden was ever a fast friend of Silverymoon. But I expect no mischief from you while you are in our city."

"Nonsense." Adir chided, his hands about her in his way, "Vala is my property, as incapable of causing harm without my approval as any of my other possessions. Isn't that right, my love?"

Araboz frowned at that, as did Vala, but she replied with averted eyes and an embarrassed sigh, "Yes, husband."

The Human's expression softened after that.

Gradually, they rolled down the finely paved cobblestone streets, passing homes that, unless she was mistaken, held both the poor and the wealthy, yet featured the same consistent quality, if not the exact style, of one another.

There was a lesson in that somewhere that many cities, including Menzoberranzan and Almraiven, could take to heart...

"So tell me..." Adir said as they passed a side street, "Did the Lady enjoy that shipment of wine that I provided? It was my private stock of Dragonblood Red, imported from Cormyr. I thought the red's full body and semi-dry flavor would appeal to northern taste."

"Yes." Araboz replied, smiling and no doubt relieved by the change of subject, "To my knowledge, each of her sons took a glass beside her, and she provided the rest to a public gathering such as this one, where all we welcome. The residents of Silverymoon drained the rest of the casks in no time at all."

Adir laughed, "Over seven thousand espedrilles worth of wine? I am sure it was quite the wild affair! Good to know."

Down they traveled, into a shallow bowl-shaped courtyard roughly four bowshots long and half that wide; a bazaar, like that in Almraiven, but much wider, accommodating several rows of market stands. None of the buildings along its edges displayed goods, so she assumed that all of them were strictly housing, and likewise, unlike most street peddlers, the stands were covered, but not large enough to accommodate a bed and stove. The people that ran them were likely sleeping in the adjacent houses; such naked trust in the guards of the city to protect their goods was almost unfathomable to her.

Silverymoon was a different creature than Almraiven...definitely.

They turned south for a distance, before crossing into a wide alleyway.

Vala smelled cinnamon and honey, heard the faint peal of a flute, with a regular thud accompanying.

Unlike the streets, which were regularly lit by lanterns, dozens of Glowballs hovered in the distance, around a tree of such unusual qualities that Vala could not help but gawk.

Surrounded on three sides by densely packed buildings, the tree itself was far too large to be fully hidden at this distance. Its bark was a fine white, with streaks of darker brown. Its leaves; fat, spade shaped things, were a bright metallic silver, but swayed in the wind like living appendages. Some of its lower branches, less developed, bore bright white leaves. It was around its trunk, which could not be encircled by two dozen men in interlocked arms, that many of the Glowballs circled in a slow, rhythmic pass, though dozens more floated about its branches in stationary positions like hanging fruit.

Beneath the tree, there was a circular basin of cobblestone that would allow one to sit, and around this were many stands that displayed food, drink, and various novelties.

Flitting about these stands or dancing in an open area before the tree, were dozens upon dozens of brightly clad men and women, mostly Human, though Vala noted Elves, Dwarves, and even a small cadre of Halflings, which sat at a communal table and gorged themselves on steaming piles of meat and pastries, their richly ornamented mugs almost larger than their bodies.

Many of the revelers paused as their carriage stopped before the edges of the festivity. Many more paused when Adir led her out. Whispers trailed in their midst as they approached the great tree, followed by Adir's selected nobles and attendants, though the latter were free to enjoy themselves as they pleased.

As Adir removed her Hijab and cloak, presenting it to a "doorman", the whispers became more frenzied. Dozens of nobles eyed her and her garb with mixed uncertainty and admiration. A few of the men quickly hid their looks of naked lust, as the women hid their jealous scowls.

Garbed in a slim white gown with golden trim that hung from her neck, accompanying braided leather sandals and a thin chain circlet about her head that matched her earrings, Ajna Chakra, and slave bracelets, Vala was adorned as born nobility, and felt horribly out of place among these people, not only because of her heritage and her accustoming to Calimshan's peculiarities, but because she had lived most of her life apart from such circles.

Her belly, just slightly protruding with the life growing inside of it, quivered in unease and the uncomfortable cold of the northern climate. She hoped her face still remained impassive...

But Adir was there, his hand about her waist, his heat and presence offering a pillar to lean upon for stability, and Vala remembered that she was not alone.

And this was his world, though he too had once been a slave. She could make it her own if she tried.

One woman took notice of them, and smiled faintly, finishing a hushed conversation with a Half-
Elf male before approaching them, offering a shallow curtsy, to which Vala detached from Adir and returned.

The obvious practice that this woman displayed in this seemingly simple movement, and Vala's lack thereof, did not go unnoticed.

Vala took in this woman in a moment; her richly adorned, corseted gown, a cream brown affair with a regal purple cloak draped over it, the stark white color of her thin, finely brushed mane, which was longer than Adir's, and the engraved staff in her hand, which featured the head of a unicorn.

It was not just her adornments, and the supreme confidence in her bright blue eyes, but her aura, her sheer presence that bled magic, that informed her of the woman's identity. This was the one who had orchestrated the revel. This was the one her husband wished to parley with.

"Ahh...Elué Dualen, you honor us with a place here." Adir said jovially, leading Vala with his arm about the back of her waist to grasp her hand, which she kept to her side, "How goes the governing?"

The woman smiled more fully, displaying her perfect teeth.

"I left the charge of this city in the capable hands of another, Lord Adir." Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon replied, nodding at the use of her elven honorific, her countenance peaceful and dazzling in equal measure, "And who is this, that you have neglected to introduce me to?"

Adir's grin only widened, and he presented her to one of the legendary Seven Sisters with such grandeur and poise as if she were the queen of all of Calimshan, bowing low, "I give to you Vala Oblodra Telth'zol, my Favored Wife, former Darksong Maiden, and Psion Supreme."

"Quite the accolades..."Alustriel replied with genuine amusement, accessing her, "It is not often that a Calimshan Pasha takes only one female to be his lover. I see why just that has occurred."

Vala hid her blush, inclining her head ever so slightly, "Thank you, I guess."

"You know of our policy in regards to..." Alustriel paused, her eyes momentarily falling upon the golden choker about her neck.

Vala took the meaning in immediately, and before Adir could frame a reply, Vala shook her head, "Like all things in life, it is complicated. But I assure you, milady, that I am at my husband's side of my own volition."

The woman offered her an apologetic shrug, "Nonetheless, if you truly wish to make yourself an associate of the League of the Silver Marches, Lord Adir, you must do something about the rampant slave trade in your city...but that is for another time. Come, let us sit and eat. There is much I wish to discuss."

They walked side by side, trailing slightly behind Alustriel, who turned her head and noticed Vala's stare.

She could not help but avert her eyes sheepishly.

"You are nervous?" she asked, "You need not be. I hardly ever bite."

"What can I say? It is not every day I meet a living conduit for Mystra."

"I am glad to know that my reputation precedes me..." Alustriel chuckled.

"Your sister spoke highly of you, milady." Vala replied honestly.

But Alustriel did not seem to take that as a compliment. She winced, as if struck.

"Qilué? Oh...you do not know, do you?"

"What?" Vala asked, set against the warning in her heart...

Alustriel seemed at a loss for words, before shaking her head, "If you two would mind following me indoors, we can speak more of this before meeting the others."

She altered her course, and led them both into a small tent outside of the main circle; a storeroom, on inspection, wherein there were stacks upon stacks of crates.

A few of the knights in silver shared a look with her as she neared it, but she dismissed them casually.

She came to a halt inside, considering, framing her reply.

Vala stared at her blankly, blind to all else.

"Qilué is dead." the woman replied grimly, "As is Eilistraee."

Vala stood very still, Adir's presence steadying her.

Still, she felt as if she were falling.

"What?"

"My sister Laeral brought word of her fate, and of her final triumph."

"What do you mean?" Vala asked, panicked, "Dead? Triumph? I do not understand..."

Everything; every scattered conversation with the woman...every scrap of news about the trouble in the Promenade; the defection of Vhaeraun's faithful and the god's death, the weakening of the barriers containing the corpse of Ghaunadaur's foul avatar...she pored through every detail, trying to understand how this had come to be...

She had been gone from the Promenade for how long?! Four or five years?

How had everything gone so horribly wrong.

She crumpled in Adir's grip, and he set her atop a small stack of crates.

Vala hardly noticed. Everything seemed to be spinning.

"Easy..." he whispered, before turning to Alustriel, scowling, "Perhaps this could have been discussed at a later time, in a place where my wife might not have been so crudely informed."

Alustriel paid him no heed; the woman knelt before her, meeting her eyes.

Vala saw such compassion, such empathy in them, that she nearly wept anew.

"Tell me what has happened..." Vala moaned, to which the lady of Silverymoon nodded, "Eilistraee is dead, slain by the Lady Penitent...but her cause is not lost. By her sacrifice, by Qilué's sacrifice, the Drow have been reunited with the Seldarine, and Corellon Larethian himself has taken custody of the Dark Promenade. Lloth's hold over your people has been forever weakened."

"You left the Promenade before any of this occurred...?" Alustriel added, more as a factual statement than a question, and Vala nodded, "A few years ago, yes. I was not worthy of Eilistraee or her worship, so I left. Goddess..."

"Many survive to rebuild the Promenade and prepare for all out war on the Spider Queen. Iljrene and Laeral lead the effort. You could go to them, if you wish."

Adir tensed at that.

It was not impossible.

Attacking Alirana in a berserker rage had been the action that had caused her banishment. Her inability to control her anger and her desire for revenge had triggered the rage as much as the attacks of a powerful Yochlol that had murdered their kin and destroyed their outpost village.

But she had felt no such stirrings since Adir had taken her; either his removal of her powers, or the changes that had been wrought upon her, seemed to have permanently suppressed the creature she called Nobody.

She was ready to speak to them again. To Iljrene. To Alirana.

She would not be able to fight beside them...but they represented a part of her life that had been pleasant. Something she might want to recapture.

Vala calmed, running a hand through her hair and sighing, "I left that part of my life behind a long time ago, measured not in the passage of years, but by my own growth. There is nothing I can do for them now. I may wish to see them again...but my path is Adir's now. I cannot change that. I would not change that."

She nodded to her husband, and lifted herself up, "I am alright. I can...go back outside, if you want."

Adir nodded, studying her, "Yes, let us put this unpleasantness behind us for the moment..."

...

Following her shocking revelation, Alustriel apologized for its delivery, and led them back into the revel and to her own retinue.

After sitting them down at a large table, surrounded by glancing nobles that had regained some subtlety in their gawking, Alustriel had introduced them to her peers; Terrien Doucard, the Half-Elf she had been conversing with earlier, who was in fact captain of the guard and the sole commander of the Knights in Silver, Jorus Azuremantle, another Half-Elf, who led the Spellguard; the personal wizardly protection for Alustriel during her centuries-long reign.

The notion that a Human could live for over six hundred years and appear in the prime of her youth without embracing undeath spoke volumes for the power of a chosen of Mystra, goddess of magic.

Along with them, there were her sons Boesild and Methrammar, the latter breaking custom by bearing a sentient weapon; an Oathbow named Swiftflight, the only weapon at the table aside from Alustriel's stave, and, no doubt, the menagerie of enchanted items hidden in Adir's robes. The final member was King Harbromm, the Dwarf lord of Citadel Adbar. He took only passing notice of her appearance; accessing that she was no threat to those at the table, and dismissing her almost instantly. She appreciated that.

Adir conversed with them for some time, Vala adding in minute comments sporadically, testing their reactions to her words while learning of their business. She did her best to appear demure, but not timid, shaken as she was by the news of her goddess' death. It was important that neither of them offended their hosts, as Adir intended to do business with the member's of Alustriel's court and her allies from neighboring cities.

Her husband, it seemed, sought allies and trade partners to the north, and considered admission into the League of the Silver Marches, which encompassed many of the rulers and nobles Silverymoon, Citadel Adbar, Mithral Hall, Citadel Felbarr, Everlund, and several other major settlements situated between the Anauroch desert, the High Forest, the Savage Frontier, and the Spine of the World mountains.

He wanted reliable allies, likely to safeguard his position in Calimshan, and a political barrier with which to shield himself from local intrigue. Vala knew it would be difficult to balance both the whims of the League of the Silver Marches and the Vicelords, but supposed that if any could manage it, it would be a skilled diplomat like Adir.

In turn, it seemed that Alustriel and her cadre wished to gain a foothold in southern Calimshan, primarily as abolitionists, who sought to damage and hopefully disband the slave trade. The destruction of the Sea Sprite and the death of Captain Deudermont in lawless Luskan, a respected figure to all attending, had endeared all attended to his cause of hunting down pirates, who fed the slave trade and all matter of ill business, and all attended were willing to drain their coffers to complete the good captain's work.

Vala knew better; the evils of Calimshan were as constant and deeply ingrained as the drawing of breath, as they were everywhere else in Faerûn.

Nonetheless, negotiations went well; Adir would not surrender his personal thralls, but would assist the league in identifying slave ships that traveled from Waterdeep's hidden reaches known as Undermountain, to all across the Inner sea, and would assist with their sabotage and the release of their captives, those that he himself employed gaining an immunity from this, of course.

The league, in turn, would supply him with gold for every slave freed. The slaves would be indentured to the league for a set duration of time, in order to partially repay the costs, before being accepted as full citizens of the city of their choosing.

They would also feed him intelligence and trade contracts, and conceal him from retaliation from the Vicelords and any other injured party, even going to far as to offer him asylum in Silverymoon or the location of his choosing should the worst occur.

It seemed a lucrative business, one that all involved readily agreed to.

As the discussion ended, King Harbromm departed first, after draining his mug, followed by Terrien Doucard, who said he needed a fresh start in the morning to drill the soldiers.

After that, conversation became more casual. Vala found herself more comfortably adding herself to the discussion when it shifted to current events; she spoke little of herself, but recounted the wonders of Memnon and Almraiven with somewhat genuine enthusiasm. Adir spoke of his desire for an invitation to Everlund, an elven city that housed some of its greatest wizards, and complimented Alustriel as their feast of carved beef, vegetables, and pastries arrived.

She nibbled on a candied pear, smiling faintly, but promptly shook her head as she was offered the finest cut of herb-roasted beef in the main course.

"I do not eat beef or pork." she had explained, and her unwillingness to elaborate had halted further discussion on the matter.

"Is there something in particular you would prefer, milady?" a male servant dressed in a neatly trimmed black uniform replied, seemingly unmindful of her appearance, "We can see if we can attain it."

Considering her recent, inexplicable cravings, Vala replied, "Something simple. Cold chicken and pickles, if you would. Lots of pickles. And do you have grapefruit?"

"Yes, we should. Would the lady prefer it of the red or white variety?"

"Yes."

He raised an eyebrow at that, considered the slight protrusion of her belly, and nodded, "Right away, milady. Excuse me."

Adir sat beside her, of course, and after eating, rested his other had on her leg, near the knee, while he took light sips from his glass. An abrupt squeeze told her that he would be "lively" later that night.

"So Vala..." Boesild said after a long draught from his mug, "Where do you hail? You speak with an accent akin to the Calim desert, but I notice a slight variance."

"I hail from Almraiven." Vala replied simply, "It is my home and has been for about four years. But I was born Menzoberranyr."

"Four years is not long..." he noted, "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Eighteen." she replied simply, not understanding the taboo, and he chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahh, Menzoberranyr though." Boesild added, "Like Drizzt Do'Urden. Did you travel to the surface on your own?"

"No." she replied, and that was that. He frowned at her lack of explanation, but dismissed it.

"I have to say, Alustriel." she said, changing the subject again, away from details she would prefer to leave unspoken, "Silverymoon seems a wondrous place. I never thought that there could be such a sense of...shared purpose, between all the members of a city, as I see here."

"Indeed." the woman replied, dismissive of her reticence without question, "We have done what we could to create a peaceful and prosperous civilization that would serve as sanctuary for all of the goodly races."

"And of those not of the goodly races?" Vala asked, posing a test for their host.

"If they are of a goodly nature, or wish to discover it, exceptions can be made." Alustriel replied immediately, without hesitation, "All who wish to live in harmony with their neighbors are welcome here."

Vala nodded, satisfied, considering her own mug, which had been filled with apple juice, as she could not consume alcohol again until she had finished birthing. Taking a light sip, careful not to break etiquette as she had earlier, she again let herself slip into the background of the conversation. Everything about the night felt overwhelming, and she hoped she had pleased Adir...

...

Given some time alone with her husband some hours later, Vala lay opposite to him in the large ceramic tub in their luxurious room in Silverymoon's most exclusive restaurant and hostel. The hot stones which had been placed in a secondary compartment below the tub kept the water hot enough to emit a regular cloud of steam, which had quickly flattened her hair against her head with its moisture.

More than full from dinner, the lingering salty taste of grapefruit still in her mouth, she found it difficult to keep her eyes open, especially when Adir started to massage her feet.

"I still cannot believe how everything has turned out...when first I met you, I had never expected this."

"Aye."

"I never expected that I would come to love you, even when I had gone up to the rooftop to think."

"Really?" Adir asked, his head tilted slightly as he pressed the muscles of her calf apart and together in such a way to force limpness from them and create a disembodied sensation that left her completely relaxed.

"Really. I am sorry about that, you know. I had not thought to worry you."

"Aye. It was unfortunate that we had our conversation where we did. That everything ended alright did not diminish the failure of those I had charged to protect you, namely Sabih."

Confused, Vala opened her eyes to appraise him. His intensity took on a darker quality, and for a moment his proximity became distinctly uncomfortable again.

It suddenly occurred to her that she had not seen Sabih or Rafid that night, "What did you do to them?"

"I disciplined them, of course. Sabih more so. They were tasked to watch you, and you could have...hurt yourself, up there. Think no more of it."

"But I-"

"Think no more of it." Adir repeated, setting her foot down, as she had likely become too tense to continue, "I am fair in my management of my estate. They will be fine, soon enough. Are you finished?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let us retire for the evening. My participation in the creation of the portal has drained me."

"Not completely, right?"

"Of course not. Get ready."

...

Intrigued by the developments in the south, and this most curious visitor so like and so unlike the Drow ranger she had met decades prior, Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon pondered the near future. Iljrene would be informed of Vala, of course. She needed to know that one of their former converts was well, and finding a new life on the surface, albeit an...unconventional one, undoubtedly. It might give her and her sisters hope, hope much needed, Alustriel knew, to recoup them from their immeasurable loss.

"Tomorrow, then." she decided, "I will send a missive to the Promenade. I am sure they will be curious to learn of this."

...

The next morning they broke fast with Alustriel and her sons.

Vala found it much easier to curtsy properly with just a few onlookers. They all spoke for a time, all but her sipping a light wine meant to be imbibed early, beside cooked eggs, meat, and bread.

The servants had been nice enough to get her more grapefruit, and roast pheasant instead of pork.

When noon approached, they parted with fond farewells and promises of future allegiance for mutual gains. And within the hour Vala was once more in Almraiven.

She sat in Adir's court for a time, nestled against him on his large cushioned seat, but excused herself. She did not have to explain; Adir only nodded knowingly, and bid her leave.

"Tomorrow we go to the Royal Palace." Adir noted, "A little friend has sent something very useful my way. Your benefactor will hang soon enough."

Nodding, Vala departed, searching for the one she had wronged.

She found him near the fountains; the stone pillar she had glimpsed on her first morning, blinded by the sun.

Now, she saw in the light almost perfectly...

He was posted outside the bathhouse. He hid his scowl when he saw her...barely.

"Sabih?"

"What do you want, milady?" he asked wearily, his dark circled, bloodshot eyes nakedly hostile where his tone was not.

She noticed the stiffness of his back, the rigidity of his legs.

He had been flogged, harshly, and it was by her doing.

"I am sorry."

His hostility quickly became bewilderment. He frowned thoughtfully, likely seeking a lie in her words.

She gave him none.

"I...I wanted to tell you I was sorry, for any trouble I caused you. It was wrong of me to take my situation out on you, when my quarrel had been with Adir. And I am sorry if you suffered because of me."

His expression softened, at least slightly, "It is alright, milady. You have submitted to Lord Adir, then?"

"No." Vala replied, eliciting such a look of supreme confusion that she felt the Human would topple, "I have come to realize that the path I had led was one of self-destruction. The bindings of the mind and spirit cling more tightly than those of the body. The collar and this child alone cannot bind me to Adir, as my own fears had bound me in the first decades of my life. I must choose to bind myself to Adir, and so I have chosen. I have become content with allowing another to guide my path in order to find happiness. I have not submitted to Adir, Sabih, I have accepted him, and my connection to him, for I have come to understand that our paths have become forever intertwined."

She considered the life blooming in her belly, setting her hand upon it, "I have accepted him as my husband, and this child as our offspring. I will serve them both to the best of my ability, till death claims me. It is a bond that I create for myself, and is not created for me against my will. Do you understand what I mean?"

He nodded, dumbfounded, "The lord is a lucky man, I think. Never before have I met one such as you."

Vala shrugged, and he chuckled, "Yes, milady. I accept your apology. This will heal up just fine, and it has not affected my debt to Adir. Let this grim business be behind us."

Acting on impulse, Vala rushed forward, and before she knew what she was doing, she had locked him in an embrace. He stiffened, grunting with surprise, before patting her on the back, "Easy now, easy. Back is still a little sore, you know."

Feeling her heart beating rapidly against him, Vala shivered, disengaging sheepishly, "Sorry, I-"

"Ease, lass." Sabih said, "Thank you for that. Now go to you lord and mine. Pay this old warrior no heed. Tomorrow I'll be as right as rain."

Chapter 8

Almraiven, Calimshan (7th of Hammer, 1380 Dalereckoning)

Vala walked beside Adir as he led her to the royal palace to accuse the one he had concluded to be her buyer and benefactor. Dozens of soldiers, gleaming in silvery mail reinforced with thick plates, their faces hidden behind veils and richly ornamented helms, escorted them and their retinue. An even score of house soldiers had accompanied them, as well as her two handmaidens, Amara and Durrah.

Behind their escort, beyond the fine metal gates, dozens of Humans milled about in agitated confusion. Cries for justice echoed beside accusations towards her husband or other Vicelords. Their eyes were nakedly hostile when upon her. She felt the intensity of their gazes keenly, even when facing away.

She also noticed the gallows that had been hastily erected in their midst, a dire promise for whoever had so badly riled the rulers and denizens of Almraiven.

"Did you really have to make it known that I was the thief contracted for all this...?" she asked, unsettled as she studied the hanging knots through the blur of the midday sunlight, but Adir nodded, unmindful, "The people needed some answer, and to their knowledge, you are my unwilling captive. Your discomfort will only fortify this notion. Fear not, my love. This will be a short affair indeed."

Eyeing him sidelong, Vala noticed the way he kept his other hand near the fold of his outer robe, wherein there was a pocket containing his evidence. She did not know exactly what he had found, directly or otherwise.

"It will be a shame that Amon will need to die. Normally, as he is my ally, I would have shifted blame to someone outside of our little circle. But alas, forces are at play that I would rather not trifle with...and I have not the time to draw an explanation out of my fellow Vicelord. He will reveal any other conspirators now and live as a traitor in Ahriman's dungeons, or he will keep his silence and die like one on the gallows. Either way...either way I will have what I need."

His back went rigid at the conclusion of his thought. Vala found his own discomfort more disturbing than her own.

Nonetheless, the palace was extraordinary. Great sandstone pillars, ringed with brass, held up massive slabs of geometrically cut stone of like material. Spade-shaped windows, their glass tinted in shades of red, orange, and yellow, made the grounds seem aflame in the light of the sun, as did the bright curtains akin to those all around the city, depicting either a sunburst or a rising sun.

She wore a gown of light violet linen which hung from her neck, though a second, inner skirt was a soft pink silk, as was the threading on a slim corset about her waist and a pair of sleevelets that were tied at the median of her biceps and at the ends of her wrists. From her ear lobes there hung a pair of slim hoops, and diamond-shaped rosy quartz studs. The gem set in the choker about her neck had changed from sapphire to rosy quartz when Adir had spoken a command word. It made her wonder what other enchantments the collar might hold besides the suppression of her psionics.

Adir, for his part, did not favor color in his attire; he wore layered black robes with silver threading, and a dark brown outer robe. The gem pinned to the crown of his turban was an amethyst which did not reflect light. They created an interesting contrast.

They were led down an opening hall, and up to the second floor of the palace. Up a flight of marble stairs, there was a T-shaped vestibule; the center a set of great double doors, and a long hallway to either side.

"The left path leads to the barracks, forge, and smithy." Adir explained, "The right, to the dining hall, kitchen, and servants quarters. Behind the palace grounds are fruit and vegetable groves, and deep sinkholes to draw water from. Beneath, is a storehouse, a second barracks...and the dungeons. The palace is a city unto itself, designed to withstand prolonged sieges."

"It has not seen one in over a century, however." he added, "They say the King has a power, or artifact, that allows him to control the sands of the dessert to hide the city or bury its enemies. In close proximity, at least."

Unable to comprehend the amount of energy required for such a feat, Vala merely nodded, wide-eyed, as the double-doors opened, the portal at first blinding. She drew in a sharp intake of breath and covered her eyes, while Adir led her forcibly through the breach.

As her vision cleared, she stared agog.

The room was over two bowshots long and nearly that wide. The floors were white marble, but deep grooves of bronze formed interlocking rings all about the floor, giving it a segmented, scalloped appearance, with the segments increasing in elevation nearer to the end, like an extended stairway. Up, up, they went, each ring bearing a complex series of runes engraved onto its surface.

Try as she might, she could not puzzle out their purpose, if not as pure ornamentation.

There were no windows. Nor were there torches. The entire room bloomed with pure sunlight that materialized from nothing. She could not see the ceiling, so intense was the luminescence.

The walls subtly bent inward, as did the floor. Everything led to a central point, almost a plateau. Humans gathered there in abundance. Servants carrying heavy platters of food and drink wandered among nobles garbed in fine linen and silk, their bright golden jewelry appearing ablaze. Dozens more of the royal guards flanked them, as they did around an ornate throne of bronze-backed redwood. Atop the throne, stood a man of such tangible presence as to be none other than the king himself.

King Ahriman, ruler of Almraiven, was a massive bear of a Human. She had almost mistaken him for a giant Dwarf. He stood almost six feet tall, his wide, muscular body covered in thick robes and a coat of golden mail. His dark hair was set with streaks of grey, as was his beard, which hung to his belt, from which hung a scimitar of such proportions that it would serve as a claymore to a normally proportioned Human. His skin was dark, leathery, but from what she could tell, there was no flab underneath. From each of his fingers there was a thick, heavy gold ring with a different gem. From his weathered brow there was a thin circlet, and in one hand, he held an elaborate scepter. The other was a fist set atop the arm of his throne, about which an additional two score of his royal guards attended him.

But he needed no protection. He was a mountain, and, according to tradition, a powerful wizard. No matter his proficiency, the artifacts that his family would possess would make him the equal of any Archmage on Faerûn, she had no doubt.

But Vala severely doubted he was a mere dabbler. No mere dabbler could set himself above seven wizards with Adir's proficiency, no matter their armaments.

He nodded at their approach, his eyes settling on her longer than her husband.

"Welcome." he said, his voice a rumbling of stones, perfectly audible at their distance of over a stone throw, "Vicelord Adir. And the Dark Elf thief from whom this disorder began."

His expression softened for a moment, and he chuckled, though there was no warmth in it, "I see you have been tamed. A pity. I would have liked to have done that myself. Do you still call to your spider goddess?"

"I never worshiped Lloth." Vala replied calmly, though she wanted very much to strike him, "Nor have I ever embraced the ways of my people. It was for this reason that I fled to Calimshan".

He seemed to notice her suppressed anger, and his grin widened, "Perhaps not completely tame, then."

"Forgive me, my liege." Adir interjected, his voice level, though his grip on her tightened, a sign of his anger at the king's lecherous comments, "But my business is urgent. I have discovered the perpetrator of the string of thefts on the Vicelords."

"Aye." Ahriman replied, "Amon, or so you say. Bring him forth."

The double doors opened again, and the soldiers about their retinue joined the five that led a dark-eyed Human around them, to take a position immediately before the throne. Adir led her forward, to the lip of the platform.

She eyed the Human curiously; his dark, neatly trimmed beard, short cropped hair, and the grey quality of his eyes. Amon wore a slim brown tunic with gold threading, dark breeches, and sandals. He hardly looked imposing, but she noticed the half dozen scrolls about the side of his belt, the jewel-hilted dagger opposite it. The hardness of his eyes, however, was what truly gave his inner nature away; only the strongest of wills could consort with infernal beings and move forward unscathed. He had a soldier's eyes. A killer's eyes.

She detested him immediately. He reminded her too much of the Duskryn house guards in her youth.

The king cleared his throat, and about the room there was silence.

...

"Vicelord Amon "Felbinder" Silasar..." King Ahriman said coolly, "What say you to these charges?"

Adir withdrew the scrying orb, imbued with the truth of Vicelord Amon's treachery, but Amon merely nodded, "Aye, my liege. Of this I am guilty".

Adir wavered, dumbstruck. Gasps rose from the assembled nobles. Only the royal guards seemed untroubled.

"Confess to us your crimes in full." Ahriman bellowed, his anger palpable.

"I arranged the theft of key items throughout the city, and pressured Lady Erona Firelash to confront Adir." Amon continued calmly, as if it was a trifling thing, "I knew that she would kill many in her blind rage, and that the peasants would respond with violence. When Vala, my unwitting employee, was captured before her time, I planned to recruit bound devils and demons complete the thefts and attack citizens recklessly, creating further unrest. With these conditions met, I had planned to incite the populace against my rivals and allies alike, and emerge as the sole reigning Vicelord in Almraiven, an army of demonic beings at my side to replace its standing army."

"Very well, then." King Ahriman said, "Have you any reason why I should not pass judgment upon you."

"Yes, my liege." Amon replied casually, "It was because you yourself commanded me to act as I have."

Vala tensed in his grip. His soldiers whispered nervously amongst themselves.

"Oh yes..." Ahriman conceded, scratching his chin, "I had nearly forgotten. Well, then. I guess if I ordered you to do these things, they are not crimes. Such a pity."

"Adir..." Ahriman said, grinning widely, "It seems like your evidence is irrelevant. I apologize. I apologize also, because none were to be made aware of this coup."

"I do not understand, my liege..." Adir said nervously, attempting to draw power from his enchantments, "What gain could be made from such measures? You rule this city already."

"I rule in name alone." Ahriman snapped, brandishing his scepter, "The Vicelords have ever carried out business in this city against my approval. I would have my rule be supreme, with a single warlord reigning under me; an instrument of my authority alone. So, Adir...that leaves us in an unfortunate predicament."

None of his enchantments would function. The Loun Stones. His scrolls. The black sapphire, his final preventative measure...

Vala gasped. She began to murmur something inaudible.

"No magic items function in this room without my approval..." Ahriman added, motioning to the runes embedded into the floor, "No spells. No clerical aid. None save a god could so much as cast a cantrip. Your enchantments are permanently disabled. None will ever function again. As I was saying...your knowledge of this coup presents a problem."

He shrugged, "Now you must die. I think the gallows outside will find occupants after all. I had intended to send your new wife with you, but I find myself in need of some feminine companionship tonight. I will just need to flush your remnants out of her womb."

The soldiers behind them sealed the doors. His retinue was trapped.

Sparing a glance to Vala, preparing to say something, anything, to calm her, he found her eyes distant, and she was still muttering to herself. She appeared, for all the world, to be in a trance.

Her collar had ceased functioning. Its stone was clear, colorless...inert.

...

All that was ceased to be.

Light...heat...

Raised voices.

Moonlight.

Visions of a city. A name.

Ilythiiri.

Visions of a male elf with pale skin and kind eyes, and his darker skinned mate.

Ilythiiri. A Dark Elf of Ilythiiri blood. But not a Dark Elf as she knew it. Her skin was a dark oak color, and her hair was black. Ssri-tel-quessir. Half-Ssri-tel-quessir offspring.

The bloodline, lost to demonic corruption.

Stricken.

Betrayed.

Cast down into the darkness.

Bound with Faerzress, the fire that they called at will from Underdark radiation.

Infected with Demonic Taint.

Wendonai.

But...

The pale elf looked to her, a question in his eyes.

Descendant.

Benefactor?

Long lost, perhaps to be found...

Are you the one?

Vala did not know. She could not speak.

Perhaps.

Though he had been dead for Millennia, before Ilythiiri fell, some of the whole remained in his mortal descendants. He would watch her, and decide for himself.

For now, he would show her a pittance.

A taste of what was to come.

Her mind opened to accept the knowledge that was offered, the insight...

Light.

Warmth.

Power.

...

Kimmuriel started, cutting off the conversation with an agitated pass of his hand.

Vala's psionic presence had returned.

About time. He was about ready to consider her dead.

He sought her telepathically, trying to subtle establish a new link.

But then her focus fell upon him, and he knew his error.

"Lloth's hairy legs..." he gasped his skull nearly compressing under the raw power her tangential attention brought.

He had been wrong. It would not take her decades, or centuries, to surpass him...

...

The collar had broken only a heartbeat prior.

But Adir knew something had changed.

Vala opened her eyes wide, and from her Ajna Chakra, a piercing white light emerged.

Whispers echoed from that light. He caught glimpses of a great city of pale stone and clear glass.

Ahriman, Amon, and the others stared agog, uncertain.

No magic would function without Ahriman's blessing. No wizardly or clerical spell could exist within the throne room.

But Ahriman's ancestors had clearly not considered Psions when creating that devilish enchantment.

All eyes were on Vala.

She had eyes only for him.

He saw the hesitation in her eyes, the conflict.

But it only lasted a moment.

She reached out and touched him, and as the blades of the royal guards struck him, they passed through his flesh without harm.

...

"Kill them both!" King Ahriman snarled, "Strike the woman!"

But they could not; her body, a mere ectoplasm duplicate, did not fully manifest in the prime material plane.

Her powers surged, her telepathic defenses erected, and Vala extended the effect to her handmaidens, which had been forced away at the point of a blade. They gasped as steel passed through their bodies without harm, but reacted quickly, approaching with their skirts trailing behind them.

The nobles and servants pressed against the far walls, frightened, offering wide berth.

"We must flee!" she snapped, Adir following behind her.

He glanced to the throne, at the king.

"This is not over..." he said with deadly calm, and Ahriman screamed for their heads.

He pointed his scepter to her, and a spike of telepathic force split upon her Tower of Iron Will, but not before fracturing it.

Her eyelid twitched as she struggled to repair the damage.

Beside the king, Amon began to cast. Magical portals opened inside the room; through some manner of intuition, Vala observed that they were gateways to the elemental planes.

Spells, dozens of forms of destructive energies, burst from the portals and washed over their bodies, splitting the ground, melting it, and freezing it with a cloud of hissing steam. Nothing actually touched them. Only they, and the engraved bronze rings on the floor, remained unscathed from the assault.

The barrage continued unabated. Amon was likely seeking a type of energy that could interfere with her astral form.

Honestly, she did not understand it well enough to know for sure if he might find one or not.

"Can you take us out of here?" Adir asked, weaponless, his hands impotently at his sides, his face a mask of supreme frustration.

"We must reach the others..." Vala protested, "I cannot teleport us all away without being in close proximity to create a gate."

Mere moments ago, she would not have been able to create a gate that others could use, or one that could travel more than a bowshot. Mere moments ago, she could not have given Adir or the two women an astral form. And she should not be able to hear in astral form either.

What was happening to her?

Adir nodded, "Sabih, Rafid! Guard our retreat. We are leaving."

"I think not, my friend..." Amon replied, his hands completing his mystic pass, and a distortion manifested in the air, from which a pair of horrors stepped forth.

At first, she had mistaken them for some manner of mutated panthers. But their feline features and dark fur had not distracted her from the three barbed tentacles that composed their tails, nor the ochre light that emanated from their dead, soulless eyes.

"Displacer beasts..." Adir cursed, "They can shift between the planes. They can attack us."

"Not us..." Vala replied grimly, "Our real bodies in the astral plane. We are only controlling doppelgangers."

She reached toward the mind of the conjurer, and recoiled, seeing intricately woven layers of mental defenses. Either Amon was a Psion, or he had one in his employ. She suspected the latter. The telepathic presence was...wrong. Foul. Malevolent. Like Hu'um's had been in her training with Kimmuriel.

She found similar protections warding the king, who advanced upon them with a great golden scepter. From it, she felt a second telepathic presence, but one that pleaded even as it thrust itself against her Tower of Iron Will. Over his soldiers as well, was this protection. Even with her newfound acuity, Vala could not imagine how he had done this.

They reached their loyal soldiers, led by Sabih, who shouted frenzied curses as he thrust his blade out and lifted his shield to deflect an enchanted spear. They had been backed against the doors to the palace, battling against many times their number of the heavily armored and lance-bearing royal guards, aided at first by the sloping downward retreat, but now trapped at the lowest level of the room.

Their blood pooled in the ground beside their dead. Only a few of Ahriman's highly trained soldiers had fallen.

The displacer beasts followed her and Adir, gliding lithely on four thin but tightly muscled legs.

As one, they vanished, and Vala dismissed their astral form, just as they returned to Toril and pounced.

King Ahriman rose from his throne, scepter in hand, a burning golden corona about his head.

Immediately, the telepathic pressure exerted upon her doubled.

Adir grimaced, a thin line of blood dripping from his nose and right eyelid.

He was without his magic, and his focus was being disrupted. She had to protect him!

Dozens of thrusting spears of psicrystal came into being, but their bodies passed through the displacer beasts without resistance.

But as her attack failed, Vala penetrated their consciousnesses and seized control of their motor functions.

She collapsed, buried under the weight of the displacer beasts, screaming. She could not tell if it had succeeded or not, and awaited the sting of their teeth.

It was not forthcoming.

"Take my hand, Milady!" she heard Sabih shout, grunting as something glanced off of his coat of mail. She felt a heavily muscled hand take hold of hers, dragging her out from under the body, which was even then cooling, returning to its native dimension with an expelled cloud of shadows.

She blinked, confused, as she was forced through the door, her husband shouting something over the chaos.

Vala caught a brief glimpse of Sabih and two others on the other side of the door before it closed. He shared a look with her, smiled grimly, and turned away as the door hid him from sight.

"No!" she screamed, "What are you-"

She turned, horrified, to see a phalanx of royal guards approaching from either side of the hallway, the men inside of the shield wall drawing crossbows.

She conjured twin walls of ectoplasm just as they fired.

"Make the portal!" Adir snapped, his eyes wide and one of his soldier's swords in hand, "We fight on both sides."

"But-"

"Hurry, Vala! We do not have much time. There are other routes out of that room, and the alarm is sounded."

She needed only moments to erect the dimensional door.

With Sabih's sacrifice, she had them.

...

Sabih forcibly closed the door, hurling a vial at his belt into it and encasing it in a layer of thick magical webbing, a useful trick for tangling an enemy, since it was meant to be thrown at an attacker.

Oh well. He would not get to see what that looked like when used in such a way.

Smiling, for he knew he would buy a few precious seconds for his lord and lady to escape, he drew his broadsword and slapped its flat length against his shield.

"Come on, you slippery maggots!" he snarled, hurling himself against the press of bodies as Ahriman's royal guard descended upon him, two loyal men beside him.

He knew no fear, even as their blades pierced him. He stuck out, felt his steel bite into flesh, felt the edge of his shield crush a windpipe. He heard his men scream and die, and it took a moment to recognize one of the voices as his own.

Even as Amon pointed a finger towards him, hellish energy crackling from its tip, he knew no fear.

The debt was settled. He was a free man.

...

Amon completed his spell, and a pea-sized orange sphere streaked from his fingertip, passed over the battling soldiers, and blew the doors off of their hinges, webbing and all. The resulting crash shook the floor, but he paid it no heed.

He blinked through space, crossing many paces in one, and found himself in an empty chamber. The guards to either side, crouched, shields in front, were still smoking from the backlash of his spell.

He paid them no heed; servants could be replaced.

"They are gone." he replied, scowling.

Agitated, and still fueled by his evocations, Amon sent another pair of fire spells into the guards at either side, and they screamed as their flesh seared to the bone. Their wall of shields melted from the heat, pooling onto the floor.

Servants could always be replaced...

A bound incorporeal demon, called an infernal, surrounding his body, protecting him from the heat. King Ahriman approached calmly, equally unmindful, the corona about his head as bright as the sun.

"He has nowhere to go, my friend..." he replied calmly, "My soldiers have already raided his house without his knowing, killed his thralls, and created control rods calibrated to his gargoyles. He will be branded a traitor, and banished from Almraiven."

"I wished to kill him..." Amon said dryly. He had spent decades ingratiated to that weakling, that fool who conspired with their enemies to the north. This was supposed to be his final triumph over the slippery little Elf.

"If he reveals himself, we will kill him." Ahriman chuckled, "None can enter Almraiven without my consent, and none can travel through my desert without my consent. Not even that curious Drow lass can bridge the gulf in our ability. In the meantime, we can pacify and dissolve the remaining Vicelords as this city crumbles into chaos. You, my friend, and only you, will govern this city with my blessing."

Nodding, though he had arranged this with the king years prior, Amon bowed respectfully, "By your word, my liege. Let us pay a visit to Erona. Without her orb, she will be much more compliant than usual. And I could certainly use a new addition to my harem."

...

Safe from prying eyes, she and Adir had recovered her wealth and a small artifact from her astral pocket dimension.

The Codex. And the great and terrible powers it represented.

With it, Adir would recover their strength, reclaim their other weapons. The gargoyles, his soldiers. His other, hidden assets.

And use them.

Now they traveled to Memnon, many miles from Almraiven already, by carriage, disguised as a pair of unobtrusive Humans by her psionics. Seven of their servants followed, including Amara, Rafid, and Durrah, and they were likewise disguised by her powers.

Adir, despite his bravado, drifted in and out of sleep. The dessert night was frigid, and she huddled against him for warmth. He idly stroked a lock of her hair, before his hand settled around her waist.

They spoke only by telepathy, by the link she had established between them.

"I did not think I would miss that one..." Vala noted sadly, pressing herself more tightly, and Adir nodded, "Aye. You two reached an understanding before the end. He was a loyal servant."

"And a good man." she added, earning another nod.

"What will we do?"

"Reach Ormat." Adir replied, "Ahriman would know of our affiliation, but he would likely underestimate the loyalty between us. Most nobles of this realm would not shelter even their most erstwhile allies when they are being hunted by the crown. That done, I will find a safehouse for us and learn what I can from the Codex. I may need your help with that last part."

"Perhaps Alustriel will help?" Vala suggested, "Or even Q-...Iljrene. They would be interested in the potential expansion into the surface realms."

Adir nodded again, "All the tools we need to unseat Ahriman and claim Almraiven are right here for us. We need only properly use them. It is only his power over the weather that gives me pause."

Daring a glance back towards to the city that had become her home, Vala grimaced to see the sands stirring with the brewing storm that would cover it.

Ahriman controlled the wind and the skies and the sands. He would be a difficult foe to uproot.

"We will kill him together." she added, and found no argument, "I too need to understand this new power I have found, and the one who bestowed it upon me. And then I will hurl this power without restraint at Ahriman. The king will die for this. Amon will die for this. They will all die for this, as will anyone who threatens this home and family I have found in you."

"Yes, my love." Adir replied with a tired grin, their tracks burying themselves under the shifting sands of the desert storm as it came into being, leaving no trace of their passage...

Epilogue

House Duskryn, Menzoberranzan (19th of Hammer, 1380 Dalereckoning)

Netal Oblodra smelled something...earthy. Tea.

He never drank tea. He never kept it in his room.

He stirred from his reverie, saw the thin tendrils of steam emanating from one of his mugs. And the hand that was wrapped around it.

He stood up, snarling, blade in hand. And stopped, dumbstruck.

A woman sat at his table, facing him. Her round, vibrant blue eyes appraised him, filled with deep reserves of experience and sadness.

"...Vala?" he asked, studying her.

There was no doubt. She had grown from a shy little girl clutching her mother's skirts into an attractive young female. Her natural curvature filled the odd, soft clothing she wore, of unknown material in bright shades of white, violet, and pink, all rare for the Underdark.

She wore no coat of mail. No visible weapons. Her body seemed frail, fragile. But she exuded such raw psionic power; a presence, a gravity that filled the room, that he knew she needed no such thing.

He knew in an instant that his powers were no match for hers. He was at her mercy.

She smiled, nodded, though those eyes burned with something that he could not identify.

"I had wondered, for years..." she said in perfectly accented Drow, her expression wistful, "What this moment would be like."

Her expression then hardened; "We have much to discuss, you and I. Come. Sit."

A lifetime spent serving one Matron Mother or another had left him in the habit of listening to what a powerful female asked of him. Without realizing it, Netal found himself at his table, sitting on a crate, for he had no other seat. Nobody accompanied him here. Ever.

A faint humming sound filled the room.

He bristled.

"This room cannot be scried by any source." Vala said idly, taking another sip of tea in the interim, "Teleportation in, or out, is impossible. Heat signatures are undetectable, as is ambient sound. The door cannot be opened. We are alone. We cannot be eavesdropped upon."

"Alright." Netal replied uneasily, calling upon his own psionic powers.

Nothing happened, save a slight tick that made his eyelid spasm.

"Your powers will not function either." Vala added, "I have come for the answers that I need. Afterwards, I will either demand something of you, or ask something of you. Your answers will determine which. My only question is this..."

She paused, some of her earlier confidence bleeding away, before meeting his eyes again, torn, "How did I come to be?"

Damn.

Netal framed his response, considered several half-truths and deceptions, but dismissed them. She no doubt had a way to determine falsehoods. If he was to reveal his weakness, then so be it.

"It was an accident." he replied honestly, "I... Your mother...there was something about her that made me think that I had control over something in my life. That I had the right to force my will upon another. I was not...proud...of doing what I did to her."

"But after." he added, seeing her face become unreadable, knowing that a Dark Elf female only became more dangerous when the course of her thoughts became unclear, "When you came to be, I wanted to go to you. I was embarrassed, ashamed of what I had done, and I was also worried that my rivals might try to harm you, if they knew you were mine. So I kept my distance. I let you grow on your own. I thought your mother could..." he stopped, reconsidered, "I thought Gul'tah could raise you better than I could. But still I wanted you by my side. A part of me, the Drow part of me, wanted to make you something useful, something that would further my position. But I think the father in me just wanted you close, against my better judgment. Though you never saw me, never knew me, I did what I could to keep both of you safe, from a distance. I tried to save both of you that day, but I failed. After that, you were Irae's, and thus beyond my grasp forever."

He frowned, "I figured you were dead when you escaped. I am...pleased to be mistaken. You have surpassed my ability. You are a true Oblodra."

"Yes." Vala replied, facing her palms up and curling her fingers, making the sign of a dead spider, "I guess so. I am no servant of Lloth's, certainly."

Wide eyed, Netal nodded.

"I guess I have my answer, then." she continued, thoughtful, "It is better than I thought, but less than I wanted. I..."

She shook her head, "It cannot be helped. Very well. On to my request. More an offer, really."

She smiled, and unlike any female he had ever seen, there was no malice in it, "I wanted to see you, to know you. That might seem odd for...what I am, but it is true. I do not expect you to feel the same, but...perhaps I can offer you something else."

"There is a place..." Vala said, her eyes becoming distant, "That anyone can become whatever they wish, if they are strong enough. A slave can become a king. A warrior can become a scholar. A scholar can become a craftsman. A...a thief, can become a parent, and a lover, and a confidante. If he, or she, is strong, or clever, or lucky enough. A Dark Elf can do well in such a place. Very well."

She held out her hand, palm up, fingers outstretched, "You can do well in such a place. Far better than here. My husband is looking for allies of particular talents, in order to rebuild his house. You can think of him like a Matron Mother and an Archmage in one. He is looking for Psions in particular, rare as we are in this world. There is work, and opportunity, if you are interested. Come with me, to the surface, to Calimshan. Forsake Lloth, or do not. Forsake the customs of the Underdark, or do not. I could not know you as I grew to become free of this place, to find my own destiny in the sands of the Calim Desert."

Her smile widened, "But I hope that I can know you now. I would like your grandson to know you. And I think there would be a place for you, a welcome place, in our new family."

She held her hand for him, an offer unlike anything a Dark Elf had ever offered a Dark Elf.

At first, he was too shocked to think clearly.

Indecision wracked him.

But then the Drow in him began to reassert control.

Was he really willing to do something so foolish?

Was he really willing to abandon everything he had fought decades to gain, the foothold that he had spent so much work, and many lives besides, to obtain?

Yes.

Yes he was.

At that moment, everything became clear.

He silenced the Drow in him, and embraced the father in him.

He reached out, and took her hand, more terrified than he had ever been in his short, miserable life. The room filled with a gentle humming. Light, frightening but not painful, enveloped him, and his room, his place in Menzoberranzan, disappeared, dismissed and quickly forgotten.

...

To Be Continued

...

The Vicelord

Chronicles

A riveting tale of the perilous lands of Calimshan and the Underdark alike, detailing the travels of a young, outcast Psion, an up and coming hopeful to the Dungeons and Dragons' mythos offers this exciting new entry and hero to complement the likes of Liriel Baenre and Drizzt Do'Urden as she treks through Faerûn's most dangerous reaches.

-Book 1 The Jewel of the Sands

An outcast child wanders the realms of the Underdark, haunted by her heritage and a power that she cannot understand. She will find that the attention of the gods can be a curse as much as a blessing, as light and darkness battle for her immortal soul.

-Book 2 The Kingdom of the Sands

Tempered in the hardship of Faerûn, a young woman plays with fire as she dares to upset the lordship of her new homeland. She will find that many can hide falseness in truth, and truth in falseness, as she seeks a treasure that will give her the power to rule her own destiny.

-Book 3 The Scepter of the Sands

Traveling with the last remnants of her husband's lordship, Vala must seek out allies new and old to claim back her home and her station. With new and terrible powers bubbling up from her subconscious, she must also uncover their source, and the identity and truth of a man she has seen only in her dreams.

-Book 4 The Throne of the Sands

(TBA)