A/N: The delay was mostly due to the fact that I had a big dance at school – kinda like a prom, you know, but it is two days long (!). There's the ball one day, all people dressed in formal clothes etc. and there's the 'afterball' the next day. Fun, but tiring. Anyway, thanks to the reviewers as always, and I can proudly announce that this fic is drawing to a close. I've got the end in sight: five more chapters, four, maybe.
Chapter Nine: Burn, Drow, Burn!
On a cool, fresh morning of that summer day the streets of Athkatla were slowly filling with people. Golden light gave the crowd a semblance of splendor, making it alike to a sea during a sunset: rolling, ever-changing and constantly flashing the observers some new and exquisite color. Among that visual cacophony stood out a spot of red – a tall man dressed in an ankle-length robe. The throng was parting before him left and right. It was obvious that he was one of THEM and of course no decent person would want to have dealings with THOSE.
Edwin half-consciously registered that fact with satisfaction, as an indication of rightful respect for a wizard (and not just any wizard, but a Red Wizard of Thay!), but on the whole his mind was on an entirely different subject. The previous night he had spent on throwing Garay's money away for alcohol and, cough, other pleasures. In the morning his sense of duty had kicked in. (As had the hangover, but it's another story entirely.) Therefore he had slipped out of the bed... ah... never mind; it's enough to say that even before he had made it to the street, he already had had a plan.
His plan was chiefly based upon a decision to walk to the Government District, where Viconia was supposed to be, and then try to find said Viconia. The details were still somewhat foggy, but generally Edwin was pretty content with his strategy. After all, if something like that wasn't too complicated for that stuttering amateur, why then, he should do it without breaking a sweat! He did not doubt that in the right moment he would know what to do.
The right moment however came as a slight surprise to him. Well, perhaps it wouldn't have been so if he had noticed that the mob around him had grown thicker, forcing him to push his way among standing people. Then again, Edwin had never been one to pay attention to such trivialities. Instinctively distributing punches and kicks, he found himself in the first row and froze there, rooted to the spot by a loud and obscene drow swearword.
Four armored men were dragging – and occasionally carrying – among themselves a Dark Elven female in a dirty, tattered dress. The elf was struggling, shouting, kicking and all in all making herself a nuisance. Her beautiful face was twisted by fear and anger. But mostly anger.
Edwin took a deep breath. He knew that if one was behaving with the right amount of audacity, then sometimes, sometimes nobody dared to question their demands...
"Halt!" he bellowed. "By the leave of the Cowled Wizards, I'm arresting this drow!"
Viconia's eyes grew wide as saucers. Immediately, however, they glimmered with amusement. Luckily, Edwin was the only one who noticed.
"But..." the leader stuttered, waving his hand in the general direction of a hastily constructed stake. "But we..."
"Silence, you filthy ape!" Edwin interrupted him in a loud voice. "The drow is coming with me and if you have any qualms about it, we'll be happy to convince you otherwise," he paused, "in Spellhold."
The faces of three out of four men turned slightly green to that. They let go of Viconia as if she burnt them. The priestess smoothed her hair and leisurely walked to Edwin. Her expression was inscrutable.
"Wait here..." the leader spoke with suspicion. "Since when do the Cowlies wear red?"
"Some Cowlie he is!" called someone from the crowd, which was greedily taking in the unusual events. "He's that no-good mage of Mae'Var's, m'lord! The black one's mate, and no mistake!"
"Well, mage?" the fanatic narrowed his eyes. His friends reached for their respective weapons as one. "Mr. False Cowlie? What say you?"
"For, you see, my good man..." Edwin started. Behind him, Viconia was whispering something under her breath.
"Aargh," the fanatic said. And he fell. His blood flowed wide over the paving stones. Someone in the crowd screamed.
Valygar came to the rescue.
The ranger wasted no time in ensuring that the enemy was dead. He whirled in an acrobatic pirouette, using his katana to balance his movements. He used his momentum to fall among the other three and force them to scatter. Two of them were easily provoked and jumped at him, swords raised high, yet the last one must have decided that the wizard would pose less of a threat. Viconia was all but shouting now.
Edwin was suddenly acutely aware that using magic thirty meters away from the Cowled Wizards' city headquarters was not that great of an idea. Plus, apart from spells, he only had one puny dagger to defend himself with. To be more precise, he realized it all while madly dodging a sword stroke that was to split his head like an orange. He almost tripped over his own robe in the process. For a second, he and his opponent surveyed each other. And then Edwin blindly threw his dagger, a weapon singularly unsuitable for throwing, at the armed man.
Tymora must have smiled on him that day. It was by pure luck that the dagger logged itself in the man's left eye. As it is often said, 'he was dead before he hit the ground'.
Viconia spread her hands in the last chord of her spell. One of the men fighting Valygar froze. Only by the way his eyes moved could one guess that he still lived. The ranger wasted no time and finished his other enemy with a quick, economical cut.
The mob swayed angrily.
"Abyss," Edwin wheezed; he was rather pale after his close brush with death.
"They'll start throwing stones any minute now," Viconia cautioned.
"Run for it!" Valygar concluded.
They rushed to the gate of the district. The threatening calls behind them served to gift them with an almost unnatural speed. Passing by the astonished guard, they left behind the wall separating the district from the rest of the town, but they never stopped. As Viconia had predicted, the mob had now started flinging stones at them.
Valygar, the one with the best knowledge of Athkatla, was leading. They ran down crooked stairs, smoothed by countless feet that had trodden on their stony surface, they turned left and then left again. If Edwin wasn't mistaken, they were taking the shortest way to the Bridge District. Behind them, the sounds of chase had quieted somehow, but not died altogether yet.
Valygar shot a glance back. "I don't understand... From what Khalid told us, I expected those people to show the intelligence and activity of a brick. Why are they chasing us?"
He was a bit short of breath, but nothing else. Edwin gritted his teeth in jealousy. Although, contrary to most wizards, he did try to keep fit, running marathons was not a part of his daily training program. His lungs were about to explode and, what's more, he had had to tuck up his robe to stop it from tangling around his legs. "I've got huff no idea! Probably puff that idiot got something wheeze wrong! I'll have a word puff with him as soon as I gasp cough cough see him! Where is he?"
"Waiting in the Planar Sphere," Valygar quickly answered. "But, you see, there's been a problem..."
"Experience tells me," Viconia cut in, gracefully leaping over a large puddle of water, "that when one is being pursued, they shouldn't waste their breath on discuss—"
It hit them all at once. The world lurched, twisted liked the body of a Calimshite dancer – and disappeared. It came back a split second later and Edwin realized that they were still running. It was just that the puddle of water was now several meters before them. He halted and looked at his companions with wide eyes.
They stopped, too. Viconia's face showed more fright than when four armed lunatics had tried to burn her at a stake. "It's her!" she hissed. "The Bhaalspawn! She's turned back the time!"
"She must be in the city," Valygar whispered, his mouth pale and bloodless. "Alienor is close!"