Shadows of the Day
"Zhentarim? Here? Are you sure?"
The half-Elven woman paused briefly in her pacing across the room of the inn, and gave Evelyn a doubtful look. She, in turn, only glanced toward Coran. The Elf nodded his head slowly.
"I saw the emblem," he told her, nodding again. "I am sure of it."
"Really …"
Jaheira took up step once more, continuing in her steady trek back and forth thoughtfully toward first one wall and then the next. Every so often she would cast her husband a brief glance where he sat upon their bed, quiet and still. But his eyes were like stone, and, as hard as she tried … Evelyn could not read them.
The two half-Elves were in little more than what they had worn to bed, Jaheira having donned a long tunic to keep her modesty before the two that had intruded in her room just moments after sunrise. Even in that, though, she had still managed to seem as if she might take the Elf's head off easily. Despite his thorough beatings, he had given her no few appreciative stares. Khalid had merely smiled slightly from where he remained upon their bed, receiving no few glares from his wife as well. Needless to say, Jaheira's ministrations towards the Elf had been somewhat less than gentle. Still, he looked far better now without so much of the bruising and swelling of earlier. But the blood remained.
"It is very possible," the druid began anew, pursing her lips as she strode, "that the two merely allowedyou to see that emblem in order to cast even more suspicion on the Zhents. The good Commander did mention that enough blame had already been thrown upon them. It stands to reason that the Iron Throne could only benefit more from such a thing."
"Ah, but you forget, my little sylph …," Coran raised a finger. "They were just as interested in the Throne as all of you seem to be."
The older woman snorted. "We should be thankful then, that they did not think to take someone more clever or mindful of our intentions," she muttered loudly. And then she flashed the Elf another hard eye. "They could very well have been trying to discover all that we knew of the Iron Throne merely to assess how great of a threat we have become. They could very easily have been hired mercenaries, or even agents of the Throne."
But the other only shook his head.
"I do not think so," he told her. "Their manners hardly seemed to speak of gauging our threat … and, given what little I do know, it seems very much to me that you have already done enough to warrant death anyways. Why bother so vigorously torturing me?"
She didn't even look at him, though Evelyn hardly thought that she looked convinced. She just kept pacing, tapping a slender finger against her bottom lip. But after a few more moments of quiet, Coran sighed.
"Well," he cast her a bored and impatient glance, "I should ask then … Why let me see the emblem at all? Or us for that matter …? Even if it were meant to be relayed to you … what difference would it make?"
The druid merely frowned. "Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything … We shall see."
She stopped, looking to her husband for several long moments. The man only returned her gaze, raising an eyebrow back at her. And then she turned on the other two.
"Whatever trouble these two might bring," she began carefully, "we can do nothing about it now, except be careful … and remain where we can be easily found."
She gave the Elf a pointed look, but Coran's lips only twitched upwards slightly in reply. He leaned back on his feet where he stood. She shook her head.
"I think it is time that we looked into these merchants that the good Commander spoke of and see just what we might find. But first," she waggled a finger at the Elf. "You will get some rest. We might actually need your help at some point."
She smiled sweetly at him, to which he just grinned.
"I aim to please …"
"And you, Evelyn," she turned quickly toward the younger woman. "Get some sleep as well." She hardly made it sound like a suggestion. "Khalid and I will find these merchants and learn what we can on our own before getting too close," the other continued after a moment. "I would not put it past the guard commander to tell us less than he truly knows and shed few tears over our demise. We will take as few risks as possible."
She herded them toward the door, only the Elf finding some humor in it as the woman pushed them vigorously back out. Evelyn thought she saw him wink at the half-Elven man beyond. And then they were both outside and turning away.
Jaheira had a hand on her arm before she could leave, though, and was pulling her briefly back around. She lowered her voice so that no one else could hear.
"Evelyn." She glanced quickly toward the Elf, the man having rounded on them a few paces away. But he stayed where he was. Those dark eyes fixed back on Eve. They softened for a moment … just a moment. But then they were hard again.
"Whatever the Elf is doing here in this city," she began anew quickly, squeezing the younger woman's arm, "it is not our concern. Do not make it so. We can hardly hope to trust him as we might once have done. Do not forget that."
She waited, boring intently into the younger woman and staring her down. After a few moments, Evelyn nodded her head, but she said nothing. She had not told the other that she had met the two Zhents before, or that Kivan had killed one of them. She started to turn away.
"Do not forget," the other told her once more. And then she released her. The door closed behind them.
She stared at the wood for a few moments – stared through it. And then she looked away. The Elf was standing before her.
"Come, sweetling," he said, smiling down at her. And then he pushed her past him and away from the others' door. "I'll walk you back to your room." He grinned slightly back toward where Jaheira had vanished, shaking his head before taking Evelyn by the shoulder and leading her away. For her part, she hardly noticed until her own door had closed behind her once more.
As tired as she was, she had moved over to the lone bed inside the room and dropped herself down atop it without even a thought for the blood and muck still staining her clothes. Jaheira had offered to tend her wounds as well, but she had refused it soundly. She was more a mess than wounded, to be sure. And, besides, the wounds she needed healed just then were beyond the woman's powers to cure. Of that, she was sure.
She was tired, yes … but she did not sleep, not right away. Instead she just sat there, staring down at the floor … at nothing. And thinking. It was hard to banish the sight of Kivan's back from her mind just then. But … somehow … she thought that it might not be his leaving that she truly saw. There was something else … But then it was gone, and there was only the Elf turning his back. She had deserved it at least … of that, she was sure. Still … it was hard. It was so very hard …
It started to make her angry.
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears threaten to well up in them again. She didn't need them now. She didn't need them ever. But they were angry, and vengeful, and …
"You should not frown so, sweetling."
Her eyes snapped back open … and she was staring up at the Elf. He was looking at her from across the room next to the door.
"You will leave marks in that pretty face."
But she only turned that scowl on him instead, her eyes glinting as they bored into his own. He still looked as haggard as she in those bloody and battered clothes, though he had hardly heeded Jaheira's words anymore than she had in returning to his room to get some rest. Somehow, he had not left, and she had not noticed. She waited.
He stood there quietly, though, a lop-sided grin on his face. It was not so amused as they had so often seemed to be. But that hardly eased her irritation anymore. He still wasn't leaving. Finally, she just spoke.
"What do you want?"
She nearly the spat the words at him, they were so full of acid. She might have even felt sorry for that … but she wanted to be alone. It was necessary too. She could have expected nothing less. Ajantis and Xan had both tried in vain to chase after her not a day after they had entered that city. She could only have suspected that Coran, of all people, would have soon followed suit. As cunning as he was … he was the biggest fool of the three. It should have been two … only two. But she was not disappointed.
The man barked a laugh, shaking his head. "I will resist the temptation for the moment, sweetling … though you do leave yourself wonderfully open to flirtation at times. I am beginning to think that you do it on purpose." He raised an eyebrow at her. But then he shook his head once more, slowly, and his face suddenly smoothed over.
"I forgive you your anger, Evelyn," he began anew then. "It is not for me. Though, I will admit … I have certainly done enough to deserve it."
She blinked at him, taken aback by the sound of her name on his lips. It seemed so suddenly alien, and she was sure that she had never heard him use it before. It was enough to hold her back … and he had moved himself over before she had a chance to recover. He sat down on the bed beside her.
She frowned over at him, wondering just what new game it was that he was playing with her. He had already tried so many … and it was disheartening enough that both Xan and Ajantis had tried their hands as well. But she suddenly couldn't feel angry at him anymore. She looked away. She was too tired to be angry. She was too sick, and too tired for any of it just then. But the other did not look at her for a long moment. Eventually, he sighed.
"I saw the look in your eyes in that alley," he began, staring off and away. "And I think I am beginning to understand …"
He eventually turned toward her, but she did not meet him. And he only smiled sadly down at her.
"You have been broken, Evelyn," he told her after another moment, "I can see that clearly enough. It is amazing and tragic that somehow you see fit to fight on. Perhaps a little frightening and terrible too …"
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she did look at him then. But that same rueful smile was on his lips. It was not a playful or romantic gesture. For a moment, he looked at her as Imoen did. As her best friend did. He squeezed her slightly, pursing his lips. And then he glanced briefly away.
"I have mistreated you," he continued, "though I think you hide yourself quite well. It is a shame. And for that," he looked back toward her, "I apologize. Though," and he suddenly grinned, "I cannot promise that it will not happen again. I think that would be the greater offense."
He smoothed over once more, nodding his head slightly. He left it at that.
She didn't say anything to him. She just tried to keep her face as smooth as his. It was strangely comforting … and she wasn't quite sure just what to make of that. It made for several long moments of silence, dragging away into the early morning. But then he abruptly pulled her closer, touching his lips to the shadowy tresses atop her head. For a moment, she did not think to stop him, and he lingered there, holding her tight.
"Do not think that you are alone in this," he whispered softly, shaking his head. "There are plenty among you that care enough to make an effort when it is needed. I'd like to think that I'd be just such a one. I know I am not the only one."
He slipped away and back onto his feet in the next moment, rounding back on her just as he made for the door. He seemed to struggle with whatever more words he would say just then. But it did not last long. She stared up at him.
"You are not alone, Evelyn," he repeated. He started to say something more, his face crinkling intently. But then he swallowed it. He canted his head. And then he turned to leave.
She watched the door close behind him.
The whole while she had sat, still … and silent. She had let his words wash over her, all the while keeping her face from betraying anything of just what she truly thought. It was a strange gesture, at least from him. It was just too bad that he was wrong … so very, very wrong. It almost made her sad. But she just swallowed it quickly down along with every else. It seemed to have gotten just a little easier of late.
She was alone. She was alone in a way that he did not understand … and would never understand, if he was lucky. None of them understood. She was beginning to see that all too clearly now. His words were nothing more than that – words. They were no better than Xan's. They were no better than Ajantis's. They were no better than Imoen's, or Jaheira's, or … or even Kivan's. They didn't make her feel any better about any of it. But they could make her feel a whole lot worse. She was beginning to wonder why she listened at all. But it wasn't something worth thinking about. Thoughts could be just as misleading … and just as destructive. She let them all just slip away.
She didn't bother to undress herself. She didn't bother to clean whatever it was that stained her clothes off. All she did was strip off her lavender coat and curl herself firmly up against the bed beneath her.
As much as she tried to swallow it all down or just push it all away … it came back. It always came back. She just hoped that it would all be over soon. She was so tired of thinking. She was so tired of everything.
She waited. But it was a long time before sleep finally came.
Somehow, she deserved that too.
"Evelyn."
A hand fell down on her shoulder, and her eyes flashed upward. Two brown ones met her own briefly.
"Are you well, my Lady?" The knight studied her, his brow furrowing for a moment. But she only nodded her head. Now was not the time.
"I'll be fine."
She looked past the man toward the other end of the alleyway. There was a two-story stone building sandwiched there between granite slabs just on the opposite side of the street. Painted-glass windows lined its lower floor, shaded panes the upper. A large banner waved to one side of the double doors, stitched with a spinning crescent of golden orbs on a field of beige.
The Seven Suns.
Evelyn took a deep breath, fixing the building more firmly. She forced everything else from mind once more – those nightmares hardly wanted to go. But they would only slow her down. She knew that well enough. And then she was as hard as steel.
Ajantis seemed to think little of her answer, though he said nothing more. He just turned with her as well away toward the sight of the Seven Suns building beyond. She was only glad that he did.
It was quiet there … in the alley. Though it was certainly easy enough to hear the sounds of the midday crowds of Baldur's Gate parading through the streets beyond. It was dark too … dark enough to hide the six men and women crouching there in the stillness. No one passing by along the street had noticed them yet at least, though there were certainly no few pairs of eyes cast to either side of the alley as they waited. Just as many found their way back time and again to the Seven Suns. The silence had begun to grow deafening.
"What are you looking for?"
Sometime earlier, Jaheira had pulled her aside from the others, sparing no few glances toward that very same building as they had spoken quietly there in the shadows.
"Does it matter?" she had asked calmly enough, giving Evelyn a brief look. "Scar only wished us to see what we could find. Whatever we have to tell him – so long as it is something – will be enough." She had raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "We will find this Jhasso, learn what we can, and leave. I will not make it any more difficult than that."
She had rested her hands upon both of Evelyn's shoulders then, looking her intently in the eyes. She had told her to wait there with the others until she and Khalid had returned. But the warning had been clear enough. The younger woman had only nodded her head.
The two had returned to the Elfsong Tavern some time before, and the half-Elven woman had come swiftly to wake her. But she had not slept well at all, and it had been brief besides. It was too bad that they had not learned much, though … aside from just where one of those merchant costers was in the city. But that had hardly stopped them from continuing on there to see just what they would find inside. They had certainly not come alone.
Xan and Yeslick were the only two that had not come. The latter had not cared much for the idea of the whole thing, though no one had really asked him. He had pledged himself to help Evelyn kill Rieltar and his son … that was all. She wondered if Jaheira even remembered just who the stocky little man was or even that he had come with them. Xan had simply disappeared.
She didn't know where the Elf had gone to … and neither did anyone else. But they had hardly been paying much attention, and they had not bothered to look much yet besides. Evelyn had turned the druid's concerns aside quickly, when she had thought to wait and find him. She doubted that he had been taken as Coran had. She knew all too well where he had gone. And she knew all too well that it was better that way. She would let him go in peace.
"How long are they going to be in there?"
Her eyes flashed toward her best friend where she stood leaning against the side of a stone building to one side of them. She was gazing away toward the Seven Suns building far beyond. They had a clear view of the place from their hiding spot, but they had seen little since the half-Elven woman and her husband had disappeared inside. There were two guards standing just outside the doors, but they had seemed to give the two little enough trouble from what Evelyn had seen. Jaheira had thought it much safer with only the two of them.
Coran glanced back toward Imoen briefly. He merely rolled his eyes.
"It has only been a few minutes, sugarplum. Calm down."
And then he was turning back toward his vigil.
Imoen started muttering something about waiting there all day, but Evelyn looked back away. She caught sight of the Rashemi witch briefly as she did so. The dark-skinned woman's face was unreadable. Minsc towered beside her, fingering the large hilt jutting out from his back. Neither said a word. And it was just as well.
A few more minutes passed in quiet, the sounds of the city streets echoing dully off the stone walls of the alleyway about. As they did so, Evelyn could only begin to realize just how tedious of an affair that all might have seemed – just how dangerous could a building full of merchants really be? But she was in no mood to play games either. Jaheira, she was sure, had the right of it.
But Imoen, at least, was somewhat less convinced.
"What happens if they don't come out?"
She let the question hang in the dank air there for a moment, not directing it toward anyone in particular. But it was Coran who answered her once more. This time he did not even bother to turn around.
"We go in after them."
The curly-haired knight nodded simply down where he crouched beside Evelyn, and he spared her a look. But Evelyn wasn't looking at anything. She just kept staring ahead into the piles of refuse that littered the alleyway and through it. It was what they would do. Jaheira's warning had been simple enough.
Everyone else was watching the Seven Suns building then. Everyone except her … and Dynaheir. She could feel the witch's dark eyes boring into her. She didn't have to look over to know it for truth. But, she supposed, she should have been paying more attention to what was going on around her anyways. She almost didn't notice it when the garbage ahead of her seemed to start breathing.
She stared for a moment, almost not seeing it. Her thoughts were still too thick and the shadows too dark to be sure, and she squinted there in the gloom. Perhaps she had been sitting there too long in the dark. Her eyes were starting to play tricks on her. They certainly hadn't noticed anything before …
But then she started to lean in just a little bit closer, frowning curiously. She didn't get far. For a moment … nothing moved.
And then the waste pile suddenly lashed out at her.
Evelyn cried out and fell back and down to the dirty stone beneath, her arms flung wide. Everyone came whipping back around and toward her in surprise, steel ringing loudly in the alley. Ajantis was already on his feet and so was Minsc. Coran had a dagger in his hand.
But Evelyn did not move. Instead she sat there staring at the thing stirring before her. She blinked.
That thing began to take shape all too readily, rolling slowly free of the refuse about it. There was a man lying there on the ground for a moment, writhing and groaning. But then Ajantis had his sword thrust down and was using it to roughly turn him over onto his back. Steel pressed firmly into the man's chest.
He lay there, breathing hard and looking up at them. And then all of the air suddenly seethed out of his lungs. He let his head fall back.
"So sorry …," he slurred up at them, looking hastily around, "I'm … afraid I didsn't … know this gutter was taken …"
He laughed a little at his own words. And then he stopped quickly. He swallowed hard, his tongue all but lolling out of his mouth. The knight's lips suddenly twisted.
Ajantis pulled his sword away, growling deep in his throat. "Public debauchery," he spat down at the man. He thrust the blade hard back down into its sheath. "Get yourself gone, drunken wretch!"
Everyone had been watching the man there on the ground, but had begun to turn away. A drunk lying in a gutter hardly seemed like something to worry about any longer. If nothing else, the knight and the Elf only seemed irritated at the false alarm. But Imoen was frowning at the drunken man in concern. Evelyn climbed quickly to her feet.
"Hey!" the pink-haired woman snatched suddenly at the knight's arm. "Leave him alone … He didn't do anything!"
"Yes … Yes!" the drunken man grunted, pulling himself bodily up from the ground. "Let me goes with my troubles … they are mine own – to drink away!" A long-necked bottle swirled emphatically in his hand.
The man climbed back up to his feet, staggering there where he stood. Ajantis bared his teeth irritably at the sight, starting to turn away. Imoen leaned back against the wall, all the while glaring at the knight. But Evelyn hadn't taken her eyes away from the drunken man.
He started to move away, inching along for a few leaden steps and looking as if he were trying to open his eyes as wide as they would go. He shook himself. And then he pulled the bottle toward his hanging lips. But Evelyn snatched at his arm before he could.
"Do I know you?"
She spun the man around to face her. It wasn't hard, but he nearly tumbled over with the effort. She squinted at him, her grip tight. Her other hand had already snaked its way toward the dagger at her belt. But the other only blinked at her.
"Do you … know me? Do you know me?" he demanded almost angrily of a sudden. "Do I knowsh … you …!"
He thrust a vigorous finger at her and she blinked right back at him, not sure just what he meant by that. It really didn't sound like much of an answer. But he only fell to muttering, and then he tried to turn away. She snapped him right back around toward her.
Fuller's dagger tight in one hand, the drunken man's arm in the other, she looked him over carefully, trying to place his face. Ajantis had turned back toward them, and her best friend was giving them an odd look as well. But she was hardly about to take any chances. She didn't need any reminders to know just what strange places bounty hunters and assassins could suddenly spring out of … why not a pile of garbage? And if she thought she recognized that man, well … if he wasn't someone she already knew and maybe trusted, then it was very likely that he wasn't to be trusted. But then her eyes snapped wide.
"Aldeth …?" she breathed incredulously, and the man suddenly cast her a trembling eye. She shook her head in disbelief. "Aldeth Sashenstar?"
He was still wearing that gilded armor, soiled as it now was. She recognized it now. It seemed as if he had not yet taken the time to wash it. But it was him – she was sure of it. He gave her a dubious look.
"Do I knows you, m'dear?" He started shaking his head slowly, almost warily. "Not another wench … comes for money …" He nearly toppled over again with the effort. But she still held him firmly in her grasp. And she only frowned at the drunken man.
"What are you doing here?"
Aldeth Sashenstar gave her another doubtful look. And then his face suddenly twisted. "I …," he stabbed a thumb to his chest, "I live here. What are you doing here?"
"Live … here?" she raised an eyebrow at him. That alleyway? But then she remembered just what he had told them the last time they had seen him – in the Cloakwood. He had said something about a Merchants' League … about giving them help should they ever have need of it. She wasn't so sure about asking for his help – drunk as he seemed to be – but she knew what Scar had told them … that the Iron Throne had been meddling in the affairs of the other merchant costers in the city … that they should learn just what might be so amiss about their activities. Well … one of their members lying drunk and buried in garbage certainly seemed amiss enough.
"Yes," the man gestured vaguely, almost violently, about with a hand, and she let him go. "This is my c-city … beautiful, grand … dirty … back-stabbing … Baldur's Gate." He blinked. And then he did topple over, crashing down hard on his behind. "To the Hells with her!" He hunched over, his eyes wandering. "I need another drink …"
He glanced toward the bottle in his hand … but the bottom had been shattered when he fell. Then he stared longingly down at the clear liquid winding away into the cobbles.
"Aldeth Sashenstar?" the knight was demanding doubtfully aloud then. Even Coran had rounded back upon the scene, though Evelyn doubted that he knew anything of the man they had met in the Cloakwood before happening upon the Elf himself. Evelyn knelt down beside the drunken man.
"What happened?" she asked quietly. Imoen joined her a moment later on his other side.
Aldeth gazed from first one to the other. Finally, he seemed to settle on the raven-haired woman, giving her a glazed and sullen look.
"Oh 'tizz terrible, my dear … absolutely dreadful …" And so was his breath as he bobbed his head. She tried not to wince. "The broken fate of one … sorry … man … shoulds not concern you so, my beauty …"
He reached a clumsy hand out to her face, but she twisted back in surprise. Ajantis was there in an instant then, and so was Coran. Both of them managed to haul the drunk back up to his feet. He swayed there for a moment, blinking. And Evelyn gave both men a sharp look.
"What happened?" she asked Aldeth calmly once more. But the drunken man only shook his head. And then he shook himself free of their grasp.
"Why should you … care …" he tried to stab a vindictive finger toward the raven-haired woman, but missed. "I remember now … Druid-friend!" he grunted at her of a sudden. "Gets you back to your shtupid trees!"
The man slumped, but Coran caught him. Evelyn could see Dynaheir just beyond them watching, a hand on Minsc's arm. Ajantis was scowling to one side.
"My Lady …," the knight rounded on Evelyn then. "This man is a drunken fop and hardly worth any more of our time!" He laid a hand on the drunken man's shoulder. But at her sharp eye, he stopped in his tracks. Coran glanced from one to the other, but said nothing.
"I care, Aldeth," she assured the man softly. But he was having none of it. He twisted around and thrust another finger at the curly-haired knight.
"You'd … you'd be drunk too," he pulled himself back away from Coran once more, "if your … if your closest friends were trying to kills you … s-spending all your money while you're gone huntings in the woods … and telling you … you're … you're nothing but a … a drunk!" He swiped a hand aside angrily. "No!"
Coran caught him quickly before he could fall again, grunting angrily against the sudden weight. The Elf rolled his eyes.
"Aldeth …," Evelyn began anew. The man blinked those glazed eyes up at her. She frowned at him in turn. "What do you mean … 'they're trying to kill you'? Who's trying to kill you?"
It was a strange enough thing to be sure. She somehow doubted that the druids had chased him all the way to the city still looking for blood. But fear and panic suddenly welled up in the drunken man's eyes. He just started shaking his head wildly.
She looked at the others briefly. Coran raised an eyebrow at her, and Ajantis only gave her that same heated look that meant he just wished for her to be done with it. Imoen's eyes were fixed worriedly on the drunken man in the Elf's arms. Dynaheir's face was smooth.
At the last, Evelyn glanced back over her shoulder toward the street. She could still see the Seven Suns building standing there. Jaheira and Khalid had yet to come out. After a few more moments, she turned back to the drunk.
"Aldeth …" She leaned in close. She caught the man's glazed eyes in hers. "Can you show me to these friends of yours?"
"What? N-no!" The drunken man's anger was almost as swift as that of the knights. "Hands off me, lout!" Aldeth barked, suddenly tearing himself free of the Elven man once again, only to nearly tumble back down to the cobbles. He managed to catch himself, though, but started shaking there where he stood. "I – I can't!" His anger quickly bled away to fear. "Th … they'll k-kill me! I – I knows it!" And then he suddenly seemed to collapse in on himself. There were tears in his eyes. "They've already taken everything else … I've nothing left!"
"My Lady!" Ajantis snapped at her, pushing his way between them. She gave him a sharp eye. "Evelyn …" he followed then, taking her by the arms. "What are you doing?" He was shaking his head.
"I agree, sweetling," the Elf canted his own from behind the drunken man. "This is none of our concern."
But she only turned that look on Coran instead. "This is our concern," she told him, rounding back on the curly-haired man as well. And it was a good deal more productive than merely standing around waiting to see what Khalid and Jaheira probably wouldn't find in the Seven Suns. Whatever Scar had been speaking of … Aldeth's friends trying to kill him certainly seemed like it. They were all part of the Merchant's League. That certainly sounded to her like they were merchants. She forced the knight out of her way.
"We can help you, Aldeth" she told the drunken man, a reassuring hand on his dirty shoulder. He looked back up to her once more. "Will you show me to the Merchants' League?"
Aldeth Sashenstar glanced from first her and then the pink-haired woman at her side. Imoen looked toward her best friend.
"Yes …" And then Aldeth swept his glazed eyes swiftly across all of them. "Yes!" he uttered excitedly of a sudden. "You can s-speak to them for me!" He latched a hand onto the Elf behind him and then quickly moved to the raven-haired woman. "You … you spoke to the druids! Maybe … maybe you can help me …"
Evelyn started nodding her head, but the knight was breaking in before she could speak.
"What about the half-Elves?" he demanded angrily of her, snatching at her arm. His eyes bore down into hers. "Are we to abandon them here? What if something goes wrong?"
"Yes, sweetling," the Elf canted his head. "What of the Tethyrian and her husband? We can't just leave them."
She looked from first one to the other, but then she felt an elbow nudge her in the side.
"I'm with you, Eve."
She glanced over toward Imoen, her best friend smiling reassuringly back at her. The pink-haired woman shrugged.
"Jaheira and Khalid can take care of themselves." Imoen shook her head. "Besides … it's boring just sitting here waiting."
The two men both looked sharply toward the pink-haired woman, but she only shrugged once more. Evelyn just nodded.
"The more we learn the better," she uttered simply. And then she turned back toward Aldeth. Ajantis caught her by the arm once more.
"My Lady …"
"You can stay here," she told the knight. And then she glanced toward the Elf. "Both of you. If Jaheira and Khalid need any help, the two of you should be enough." And she didn't even feel bad about it, or her cold tone. Despite the Elf's words of last night, it would still have been good to remove herself from both of them and spare them the terrible fate they didn't seem to see. No matter what he had done, Xan had still proved the wisest of the three … though he should never have had to in the first place.
"Dynaheir, Minsc," she glanced toward the two Rashemi. "Come with me."
The dark-skinned woman only got to her feet with a small smile, ordering Minsc up along with her. Unlike the two men, she did not protest before moving over to join Imoen and Evelyn.
Evelyn glanced toward Coran and Ajantis once more. The Elf looked as if he would say something, but clamped his jaw shut, only canting his head sharply. The knight, however, ground his teeth. It was a surprise that he did not bare them at her. Finally, he turned away.
She spared one last look for the Seven Suns behind then, taking a deep breath. She was sure that Jaheira and Khalid would be alright. Imoen was right. They could take care of themselves. She knew that.
She took the drunken man firmly by an arm.
"Now, Aldeth," she fixed grimly on the man. His wavering eyes met hers briefly in return. "Show me where these friends of yours are."
Despite what hope he might have harbored for her just then … he did not look happy. Not at all. But she could manage.
Somehow … she always did.
