Wow, it sure has been a while, hasn't it! My professional life has been a rollercoaster ride since I last updated, and although everything ultimately worked out for the best this has been one crazy year that left me very little time/energy to write. Things seem to have settled down enough that I can probably update more than once a year! ;)

I want to give a sincere thank you to those who continue to follow this story, and I want to give a special thank you to the couple of guest reviews I've received in recent months. I certainly don't write just to get reviews, but it's always nice to know that people are still enjoying this story. I think that's enough from me now, so on with the show! -Bondari :)

Part II—Chapter 3: A Failure to Communicate

Valen frowned as the floorboards lurched beneath his feet, but his discontent had nothing to do with the swaying surface he was standing upon. He, Nathyrra, the human woman Emily, and her kobold were sailing along the perilous Dark River to a strange, until recently uninhabited island where he hoped they would find a powerful artifact to aid them against the Valsharess. This journey had been his idea; he believed their efforts should be focused on strengthening their own forces, while Nathyrra argued that they should concentrate on making the Valsharess's forces weaker. But despite Nathyrra's arguments and the kobold's fear of the "Boat Ghost"—the ship's captain, Cavallas—Emily had agreed to follow Valen's plan. He suspected this was part of her attempt to make up for her insulting and pathetic display in the tavern, along with her repeated use of his real name. Her efforts were so transparent, however, that they had had the opposite effect than what she intended, a fact that had not escaped her notice. She had done her best to avoid him ever since, and while Valen had no objections to this arrangement himself, Nathyrra insisted that he attempt to be more welcoming to their "savior."

And that was how he found himself frowning, staring at the woman's back as she leaned against the ship's railing, gazing out at the river. He snorted, recalling Nathyrra's lecture. Since when did the drow care about being "welcoming"? Still, he conceded to himself, if he was going to expect this woman to fight well alongside him, he should try to convince her that he didn't completely hate her.

Valen took a deep, resigned breath and walked over to where Emily was standing. As he grew closer, he realized that she wasn't gazing at the river at all but at one of the amulets she wore. It was a copper, oval-shaped locket, but each of the two panels had hinges that swung out to allow for the storage of two additional pictures. Emily was staring at them wistfully, not noticing his approach. There was a softness in her eyes that he had only ever encountered before in the Seer. Valen found himself suddenly reluctant to disturb her, but he knew he should address things between them before they found themselves in any real danger. He cleared his throat, and she looked at him, startled and confused by his presence. He searched for something inoffensive to say. "I have never seen a locket like that before, my lady." There, that sounded welcoming.

Emily raised one of her faint, newly-grown eyebrows, but she smiled pleasantly at him, seemingly relieved that he wasn't glaring at her, which he realized he had done quite a lot since he'd met her. She proudly displayed her locket to him. "My father made it for me," she said, "before I left for Hilltop Academy. It's where I studied to be an adventurer," she clarified when he looked at her in confusion.

The concept of an adventuring academy sounded utterly ludicrous to Valen, but the place clearly meant something to the woman so he refrained from saying so. Instead he asked, "Whose pictures do you keep inside it?"

"Mine and my three sisters," Emily replied. She took the necklace off and passed it to him so he could see the pictures more closely. "These were painted on the day of my oldest sister, Roxanne's, wedding. They were originally part of a single, larger painting, but my mother cut the faces out so I could easily take them with me when I left the following day. Whenever I start to miss my family, I take this out and… well, it makes them seem not so far away."

Valen, curious in spite of himself, looked at the pictures of the four young women before him. The one on the left, who looked to be the youngest, had a playful smile, her bright red hair pulled into a long braid that hung over her shoulder. The next one, clearly older, was striking in her beauty, her long, pale-blond hair falling in elegant waves down her back, but although she was smiling Valen felt her expression was cold and arrogant; she was a woman who was well aware of her captivating good looks. The third woman had to be the bride, Roxanne; a lace veil covered her golden hair, and somehow the artist captured how her face must have been glowing that day. The one farthest to the right was Emily herself, younger than she was now, but still easily recognizable. In some ways she looked very different from the rest of them; her dark red hair was a mess of unruly curls, and she was the only one with freckles. But all four women had the same brown eyes, so identical there could be no doubt they were sisters. Emily had the biggest smile of them all, her face beaming with pride. The love she felt for her sisters was almost palpable, and it made Valen uncomfortable. Who was this woman that she would so willingly share her most intimate relationships with a near-total stranger like him?

He realized she was staring at him, waiting for him to say something. He handed the locket back to her and said, "Your sisters are very beautiful."

"Yes…" she said, her voice taking on a wry note. "And then there's me…"

"I-I didn't mean it like that, my lady," Valen stammered. "You are… you look…"

Emily stared at him in silence, her eyebrow once again raised. After what seemed to Valen an uncomfortably long time, she threw back her head and began to laugh. "You mustn't be so hard on yourself, general," she said as she fastened the locket back around her neck. "I've been getting reactions like that my whole life. I'm well aware that I'm hardly a beauty compared to them. And in my current state I can hardly fault you for failing to come up with a compliment." She pulled at a curl of hair sticking out from underneath her headscarf and examined it. "Is it getting any longer?" she muttered to herself forlornly, seemingly oblivious to his continued presence. She stretched it out further and further, until Valen was afraid she might pull it out of her head altogether. Finally, she remarked, "Are you going to keep staring at me stare at my hair, or is there something you wished to talk about?"

Valen dropped his eyes to his hands. Her earnest, self-deprecating manner had caught him off guard. For a moment he had forgotten that he was sailing through the Underdark on a mission of utmost importance to the Seer and possibly the fate of the entire world. The fact that this woman could distract him so easily only made her more dangerous in his eyes. He looked at her again, and he considered his words carefully as her eyes met his. "I wish to know what makes you so special," he finally said.

Emily laughed again, her eyes twinkling in the flickering light from the ship's torches. "I'm not special," she said with a shake of her head. "Unless… do you mean 'special' as in 'odd'? Because I would probably qualify as that by Underdark standards. Nathyrra says I'm far too nice, and when I called her my friend she looked at me as though I had suddenly sprouted horns… or some other equally implausible phenomenon," she amended sheepishly with a glance at Valen's own horns.

"No, that's not what I mean," Valen said sharply. He wondered if everything amused this woman, if she ever took anything seriously. "I'm referring to the fact that the Seer has quite suddenly made you the leader of our forces. In what way are you special enough to be treated in such a manner?"

This seemed to finally strike a nerve with Emily, and her smile fell from her face. "I told you, I'm not special. I didn't ask to be put in charge," she mumbled, looking away from him.

"But you are in charge now," Valen pressed, fighting back a sudden anger. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Of course it does," Emily snapped, looking back at him sharply. "I will stop the Valsharess."

"Why, because the Seer's visions say you will?" he asked drily.

Emily turned to face him, her expression hard. "I'm surprised you would willingly follow someone you believe is lying to you."

"How dare you call the Seer a liar?!" he growled, taking a threatening step closer to her. Emily's eyes went wide, and she took a step back, her hand reaching for something at her hip. Some part of Valen realized he had gone too far, and he tried to calm the rage welling up inside him. Emily watched him warily as he continued. "I believe that the Seer has visions, and that she relays them to us as truthfully as they appear to her. I am a being of the planes, however, and I ascribe no infallibility to gods and goddesses. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand," he added, nodding disdainfully at the holy symbol around her neck.

The cleric bristled, and she protectively clutched the golden sun she wore. "You can insult my appearance all you like, but I will not allow you to disparage my faith."

"Your god grants you power, a most useful power, I admit. But only a fool would believe that he provides you anything more than that."

Emily took a step back toward him, incensed. "Lathander has granted me more than just power over death and undeath," she seethed. "He has taught me the values by which I live my life, to honor the liberty and dignity of all creatures, to bring hope to the world and help all those I can!"

"Help," Valen sneered. "The Seer may assume that you are here to help us, but I make no such assumptions." He stared at her intensely, disregarding the wounded look in her eyes. "I have led these people through every danger so far and kept the Seer safe throughout. I won't see them betrayed by the likes of you."

"Betray them?" Emily cried. "Why on earth would I betray them?"

"Why wouldn't you? You're a human surfacer; the Seer and her followers are drow. You have no reason to be loyal to them. For all I know you may see the death of any drow as a good thing."

"What is it that you want from me, Valen?" she screamed at him. "My word I won't betray you?"

Valen barked a short laugh at her. "Would you even give it?"

"Yes," Emily wailed, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

Valen blinked back the red lights of rage that had started to overcome him. He forced himself to truly consider the woman in front of him. Gone were the pleasant smile and the charming laugh. She was breathing heavily, and there were tears in her eyes. Her face was filled with anger, but there was something more. Nathyrra's words came unbidden to his mind. She thinks you hate her, and that makes her sad. He forced himself to recall the circumstances that led her to their company, how lost she had looked when she had first appeared the temple, her panicked concern for the friends no longer by her side, the freedom the archmage's geas had taken from her. There was no denying she had lost much in coming to them, and he could understand why Nathyrra might feel sorry for her. Just because she was a sympathetic figure, however, was no guarantee she would be loyal to them.

"I am not asking you to give your word, Emily," he finally said, his voice calmer but still harsh. "Too much has been asked of you already." Emily's expression remained unchanged, almost as if she knew there was a "but" coming. "I intend to help you faithfully on your mission to stop the Valsharess," he continued, "but I will be watching you, as well. I don't trust you, Emily, and it is as simple as that."

Valen now considered the conversation over, and he was just about to turn to leave when Emily did something that surprised him. The cleric fell to one knee, grasped her holy amulet and her locket in her right hand, and held them tightly to her heart. Looking off in the distance, she said in a strong and steady voice, "I, Emily Emeraude, pledge my unending loyalty to the Seer of Eilistraee. I vow to fight for her against the Valsharess and to defend her and her people with my life. I swear this in the name of Lathander the Morninglord, and on the lives of my beloved family, who will surely perish if I fail, along with all that I hold dear."

The tears were falling freely onto her cheeks, and Valen recalled the young woman smiling with pride on her sister's wedding day. He felt an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he bit back a curse. "I told you I wouldn't ask you to give your word," he gritted through clenched teeth.

Emily turned to look at him then, and he was shocked by the hard defiance in her formerly warm brown eyes. "That wasn't for your benefit," she said coolly as she rose to her feet. She gestured to the shadows behind him. "I knew there was no way you would deign to speak to me of your own volition, so I assumed Nathyrra put you up to it. As I'm sure you're well aware, Nathyrra has a fondness for monitoring things from the shadows, and I was perfectly content with letting her observe us unacknowledged until you called my character into question. Unlike you, she has given me the benefit of the doubt, and I wasn't about to let you jeopardize the closest thing to a friendship I've made since being sent down here. I gave my word to her." Emily began to storm off in the direction of the ship's cabin, but then she stopped and turned to him once more. "I don't want you to feel guilty for asking too much of me," she said with a false sweetness. "After all, one only asks for things one values, and my word clearly means nothing to you." After giving him one final glare, she marched into the cabin, slamming the door behind her.

Valen stared at the door, struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He wasn't able to sort out much before a fist slammed itself firmly into the small of his back. "What in the hells was that?" Nathyrra yelled from behind him.

Reluctantly, Valen turned to face his drow companion. Nathyrra was much shorter than he was, but her small stature made her no less fearsome when she was enraged, as she was at this moment. The woman before him looked every inch the elite drow assassin the Seer had recruited. "I was attempting to be civil, like you suggested. I did my best," he mumbled.

"Really, Valen? That was the best you could do?" Nathyrra's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"How was I supposed to behave once she insulted the Seer?" Valen snapped, feeling he was being unjustly blamed for the conversation's failure.

"She didn't insult the Seer," Nathyrra moaned, shaking her head in frustration. "She merely expressed her confusion about your ability to trust a woman you don't believe to be telling you the truth, and then you called her an idiot, a traitor, and a racist in remarkably short order. And then, to top everything off, you told her there was nothing she could do that would make you change your mind about her!" The drow pulled a dagger out of her boot and stabbed the ship's railing, clearly using it as a substitute for him. "I don't know how you did it, Valen, but you have managed to make things exponentially worse!" she screamed.

Everything Nathyrra said was correct, Valen realized, but he was in no mood to admit it. "I disagree," he said instead. "Emily no longer seems to care that I don't trust her. I consider that an accomplishment."

Nathyrra pulled the dagger out of the railing and pointed it at his chest. "What you've actually accomplished, general, is alienating and infuriating an ally. You're right, she doesn't care that you don't trust her, and I'll wager she doesn't care about anything else related to you as well, including how she could assist you in battle. She may no longer even care whether you live or die!" The drow turned and marched in the direction of the ship's cabin. "Now, I'm going in there, and I'm going to do my best to smooth things over, but from now on I want you to stay as far away from Emily as possible. That may be the only thing that's going to keep all of us alive!" she snapped, and once more Valen watched a furious woman slam a door in his face.

Emily stormed into the cabin, hot tears still falling from her eyes. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and her breathing was growing ragged. She was feeling a jumbled mess of emotions: anger, indignation, pain, helplessness. She collapsed face-first onto a pile of blankets in the corner of the room, trying to force herself to calm down.

"Umm, Boss…?" Deekin's voice came from nearby.

Emily hadn't even noticed him when she came in. She sighed into the soft fabric and mumbled, "Not now, Deekin."

She heard Deekin get up from where he had been sitting and shuffle nervously from paw to paw. Finally he said, "Okay, Boss. Deekin just wants Boss to knows that Deekin always willings to listen if Boss needs to talks, or yells, or screams. Old Master likes to screams a lot. Anyways, Deekin be here, and Deekin promises not to writes anything Boss says in book without Boss's permission."

Emily snorted a laugh into the blanket, and her breathing began to slow. "Thanks, little buddy," she said softly, wondering if he could even hear her. Perhaps he did, because she heard him sit back down and begin humming to himself.

While Deekin's music wasn't exactly soothing, Emily found herself focusing intensely on it, forcing her heart to beat in rhythm with his remarkably steady beat. She had practiced a few different forms of meditation in her life as a cleric, but never one as unorthodox as this. Still, it was working, and Emily realized with relief that she had finally stopped crying.

Just when she thought she had calmed down sufficiently, the door to the cabin opened and slammed forcefully shut again. Emily sat bolt upright, fearing it was Valen come to berate her some more, but thankfully it was Nathyrra who had entered instead. Some of Emily's distress must have shown on her face, for the drow quickly relaxed her tense, hostile posture. "My apologies, Emily. That slam was meant for Valen, not for you."

Emily held a hand up to her heart, as if that would somehow help to slow it back down again. "Apology accepted," she said with a heavy sigh. "I'm just glad it's you who came marching through that door and not him."

Nathyrra pulled a barrel over to sit next to her. "I can see why you would be so reluctant to talk to him again," she said slowly. "You are correct in your assumption that he was speaking to you at my urging, but I assure you I never expected him to say such hurtful things to you."

Emily looked away uncomfortably, not wanting to relive their conversation so soon after it had happened. "I know you didn't, Nathyrra. You were just trying to help."

"Also…" Nathyrra paused. "You didn't have to say those things to me, you know. Pledging your loyalty to the Seer like that. I know you just wanted to get back at Valen—"

Emily looked at the drow sharply. "I meant what I said, Nathyrra," she said soberly. "I wouldn't have said it otherwise." Nathyrra's violet eyes widened as she realized the seriousness of Emily's words. Desperate for some levity, Emily forced herself to chuckle. "Getting back at Valen was a nice bonus, though."

Nathyrra smiled conspiratorially at her. "If there's anything I can ever do to assist you in that regard, please let me know. He had no right to say what he did, and I think deep down he knows it. It will take a lot to get him to admit it, though. He is very devoted to the Seer, and he tends to overreact to anything he perceives as an insult to her… But he's not a bad person, really, and I hope you won't hold his ill-chosen words against him."

Emily thought back to the beginning of their conversation. Valen had seemed genuinely curious about her and her family, even though he was so brusque with his questioning. That the early pleasantness of their exchange had devolved so quickly into shouting and accusations was somehow the most hurtful part about the encounter. She considered asking Nathyrra more about him, to see if there was some way she could bridge the gap between them, but she found herself too exhausted to consider such thoughts at the moment. "I'm sure you're right, Nathyrra," she said instead, "and I promise that I won't let my personal feelings toward him affect my professional responsibilities. I suppose I should probably go apologize to him for my behavior. It's the right thing to do." She half-rose from her seat, her eyes fixed on the door, but she couldn't will herself to stand up completely.

"Umm, Boss not be movings very far," Deekin observed. "Something be wrong with Boss's legs, maybe?"

Emily laughed, and she was pleased to see Nathyrra hiding a chuckle behind her hand. "My legs are fine, Deekin, I promise. They just don't feel like moving in that direction at the moment." She sank back down into the comfortable pile of blankets and gave Nathyrra a sidelong glance. "Maybe I'll feel like doing the right thing in the morning," she said.

Nathyrra nodded and rose. "That sounds perfectly reasonable to me," she said. "I'll let you get some rest, then."

As Nathyrra was turning to leave, Emily said, "Thanks for coming to check on me, Nathyrra. Since it seems like I'm going to have to be particularly careful about what I say to Valen, I'm glad I can at least speak freely with you."

Nathyrra paused, her face suddenly blank. Emily sensed there was some internal struggle going on inside her friend, but Nathyrra was too well trained in the ways of the drow to let it show. After a few moments, she turned back to face Emily, her hands clenched in front of her. "There is something you should know about me. I was reluctant to say anything before, as I barely knew you. I will admit, Emily, that I find your willingness to confide in me so easily to be confusing and, frankly, unnatural. However, I also feel compelled to confide in you in return, especially now that we are working together." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "I believe I mentioned before that I was an assassin before I came to serve the Seer."

Emily nodded. "You did. I'm not particularly surprised, though. It's my understanding that being an assassin is a common enough profession among the drow."

"You are correct. But I was no ordinary assassin. I served as one of the Red Sisters."

Emily's eyes widened. "You mean like the woman who tried to murder me in Waterdeep? Don't they work for the Valsharess?"

Nathyrra nodded sadly. "They do, indeed. It was likely that I knew the very woman who was sent to assassinate you." Her eyes clouded over, as if she was reliving some distant memory she would rather forget. She shook her head and resumed her tale. "I have many regrets about that period of my life, but I am glad that my knowledge of the Valsharess has proven valuable to the Seer and her followers. However, because of my former allegiance, there are some who still view me with suspicion or who've even refused to work with me."

"Like Valen?" Emily asked, surprising herself with her question.

Nathyrra chuckled. "Oddly enough, no. The Seer told him I could be trusted, and that seemed to be enough for him."

Then why isn't the Seer's word enough to make him trust me? Emily kept this question to herself, but something must have shown on her face, for Nathyrra quickly added, "He's never been particularly nice to me, though."

Emily blushed, embarrassed by her thoughts. Nathyrra was trying to tell her something deeply personal, and instead of listening to her, her mind kept drifting unwillingly to that infuriating man with the horns. She cleared her throat and returned her focus to the drow woman in front of her. "I know that I've expressed my doubts about you before, Nathyrra." The drow's eyes dropped to the floor. "But I want you to know that I trust you," Emily continued, causing Nathyrra's eyes to snap back up in surprise. "You had countless opportunities to lead me and my companions into danger while we were in Undermountain, and yet you went out of your way to show us the safest paths. You even helped us fight against one of your former allies. If you didn't betray me to the Valsharess then, I'm sure you won't now."

"Deekin agrees," the kobold piped up. "Deekin calls you Lying Drow Lady before, but Deekin just calls you Drow Lady now because you be so helpful to Boss."

Nathyrra smiled, her eyes brimming with emotion. "Thank you, both of you, for saying that. It means more than you know." She cleared her throat. "Now, I should let you both get some rest. Who know what awaits us on this strange island we're sailing towards."

"You get some rest, too, Nathyrra," Emily said as the drow made her way to the door. "I have a feeling that we're going to have a long stay ahead of us."