Chapter 22

Drizzt spent the first few days of his trip with Shirik being careful not to turn his back. This was, after all, a drow mercenary. But after awhile he just began enjoying his companion's company. He felt conflicted about this. On the one hand, he had never gotten along with any drow but his father, on the other, Shirik was still a drow. And not a reclaimed drow making an honest life, a mercenary from a band of them that had made war on his friends. Although, if Tega was to be believed, the Bregan D'aerthe, under Jarlaxle's command, had fumbled the war on purpose.

Shirik pointed upward at a cave for them to rest in and Drizzt nodded, climbing into it with slightly less dexterity than Shirik and his lizard. The two of them lay shoulder to shoulder in the tight space, Moxa sleeping behind them.

"I have never travelled with anyone who could keep up," Shirik signed, perfectly content to snuggle Drizzt's shoulder to make himself comfortable.

"When I was in the Wilds, I was alone as well," Drizzt signed back, "It is more tolerable with a companion." Drizzt had never been comfortable with physical intimacy like this, drow were so cavalier in their relations. But Shirik was not being untoward and handsy.

"Your elbow is in my belly," Shirik complained, "You want to keep watch first? I can after while you rest."

"Sorry," Drizzt said with his hands, moving his elbow, "But yes, you rest."

Shirik smiled and signed, "You make 'sorry' sound like a you're surface elf saying it."

"Do you mean sincere?"

Shirik grinned, "I guess so, yes, some drow would take that as a weakness."

"There are a lot of things drow take as weaknesses only because they are short-sighted."

"Like what?" Shirik asked, yawning.

"Friendships, trust, keeping oaths."

"We trust each other at the Bregan D'aerthe."

"Really?" Drizzt asked, unconvinced, "No daggers in the back?"

He smiled, "Of course there are, but not one that would damage the institution."

"I see, so you do not all trust each other, but you all trust that you are all putting the Bregan D'aerthe above personal vendettas."

"Yes, exactly."

"That's better than the house politics I remember."

"The nobles are mad," he said, "I'm glad to not be one of them."

"Are they?"

"Sure, I heard the Baenres all sleep with each other."

Drizzt snorted quietly, "I'm sure there are many rumors about House Baenre."

"Yes, including that it was you that killed their matron."

"Yvonnel? Yes, it was."

"You really threw the houses into chaos there."

"I wouldn't have killed her if she hadn't attacked my home."

"So you were a noble, tell me, did you even know who your father was?"

"...yes, I did, I was rather close with my father. Why do you ask, is that an oddity for the nobility? I never knew many drow who were not princes and priestesses."

"I know, you were from the eighth house, a proper high born boy. Of course, it is, like I said, the nobles are mad. Most commoners are raised by their fathers."

"...really? Why?"

"Their mothers are trying to earn money, we do have to eat. My father's name was Shinril. He was killed by a noble raid."

"...I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It was very long ago, and anyway it was a quick death."

"I didn't know the lives of commoners were so different than that of the nobles."

"I didn't you know were such a fool," Shirik said, but with affection and put his head on Drizzt's shoulder, the only real place to lay it to sleep, "Now I am going to rest."

Kimmuriel lay sleeplessly in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't rested in days, he was wearing thin. He hit his hand on the stone wall in agitation and the stone cracked under the kinetic energy in his palm. He scowled at the damage and drew his hand into a fist, willing himself to remain in control.

It was so great of a risk to leave Tega in Dor'rolik's clutches. He might decide any day to kill her and be done with having a threat amongst his men. Jarlaxle either had more faith in her abilities than Kimmuriel did or less regard for her life. He could not imagine either. And yet they remained here, doing nothing, while she remained trapped in Ched Nasad.

Kimmuriel shot up in bed, his hair falling around his eyes, the books on his desk lurching into the air and smacked against, first the wall, and then the ground. How could Jarlaxle leave her? It was too risky. In an hour of torturing she could bare half of the band's secrets. There was no way that Jarlaxle would risk that on the chance of gaining only a second rate band that would be marginally loyal.

He understood then, and unwelcomed anger rose in his belly. Jarlaxle didn't think Kar'Dritch was capable of it alone. He did not think Gromph was the traitor, he through it was himself, Kimmruiel. Kimmuriel stood himself up, demanding his blood cool and willing the room to stop shaking as it was. Jarlaxle believed he he was betraying Tega and the Bregan D'aerthe? Perhaps he was meeting now with a secret little band to find her and leaving Kimmuriel to the sides lines like a broken toy. He would not be demoted and forgotten on Jaralxe's hunch. He stormed to the door and had his hand on the now white hot handle when he prevented himself from swinging it open.

Jarlaxle was wrong about his betrayal, but he was right that Kimmuriel would not make himself an asset right now. He was tired and ungoverned. He was more likely to bungle the mission or hurt Tega than help. He ought to rest. He imagined he could hear her thoughts now, and imagined her screaming and pleading for aide, as he had been imagining for days. He knew she had her ring and even if she did not that Ched Nasad as much too far for even a psion of his ability to listen to her throughs. But that was little comfort.

He lay down again and screwed his eyes closed and did not move.

Tega was indeed finding Ched Nasad more to her liking than Menzoberranzan. They still preferred drow of course, but they seemed to not much mind a surface elf in Khazir clothing walking through their streets or, as he was now, sitting in a back corner of one of their taverns.

Myradin was with her, and looking excited to be in a tavern, alongside him was a lanky warrior whom he had called Rhyth.

"I don't need much convincing to leave Dor'rolik," Rhyth admitted with a shrug, "The old slaver is too ready to get back in bed with the Ugundans, I don't much care for doing business with them. He's one of them, a soldier's son, the story goes fathered by the house secondboy."

"I thought the drow didn't care about fathers," Tega asked.

He shrugged, "officially we don't. But there's talk."

"What's your problem with the Ugundans?"

He shrugged again, "I don't have one. I don't want to get into slaving. Low profit margins for slave hunters."

"I'd have thought it would be very profitable."

"It can be if you get elves or something. Mostly it's humans and kobalds which aren't worth their weight in copper."

"I suppose not, and a long way to transport them."

"A very long way, lots die on the trip."

Tega looked passed him and focused on a spot on the wall for a few minutes. She didn't want to hear that.

Myradin was growing bored with this talk of slaves, "Anyway Rhyth, she can get you into the Bregan D'aerthe. They're good right?"

"Yes, Myr, they're good. But I wonder, why are the two of you not just getting on a caravan back to your city? You could probably outfox the commander."

"I have business in the city first."

"Business Jarlaxle sent you on?"

"Yes," she lied. Kar'Dritch may have meant it as a gift. She was so close now.

"What's the business?"

"There are a number of elf slaves here. They have information about a future surface holding. He wants them alive and undamaged."

"Really? He's headed to the surface. Are the rumors true then? Is he mad?"

"No more mad than Dor'rolik who captured the slaves the first time."

Rhyth thought quietly about this for awhile, "So you are proposing breaking into the big houses, stealing elf slaves, then what? Killing Dor'rolik? Putting stolen slaves onto a caravan? They'll either be hunted down in the wilds and we will all be killed or we will reach your Jarlaxle and hand him a war with half of Ched Nasad."

Rhyth wasn't wrong there and it was a grim blow to Tega.

"Jarlaxle wants information so one slave will do," Rhyth said with another little shrug, "No need to cart around all of them."

She wondered if Kimmuriel would help her, knowing they were her people, or if he would caution her to keep herself alive and let them rot. A weak but terrible voice rose in her head, sounding very like a drow, 'What did she owe them? She had saved herself after all. Did she now need to risk her own life because they had not managed to do the same?'

"One may do," she said, "And it may not. But we do not have to steal the slaves. We can buy them." She knew it wasn't a good idea when she said it. But she was so close.

Rhyth laughed like that had been genuinely funny, "If we must, we can buy a few. Maybe some will be easy targets, dancers and servers and entertainment."

"What kind of elves are they?" Myradin asked, "I have read a lot about elves."

"Wild elves," Tega answered.

Rhyth grinned, "Good to know we aren't looking for your own kin. I wouldn't want that trouble. I'd suspected"

She thanked her absent mother then for her pale skin, "They would look exotic, tattoos and intricate scars."

"Sounds like pricey slaves," Myradin commented, "But also like we could pick them out. But that's why I brought Rhyth, he likes to- " he showed his youth, blushing and fidgeting, "- he likes to go around to the taverns and… places around here. I thought he might know where some are."

She looked at Rhyth who was not uncomfortable for a moment, "Yes, there's a female I like that fits that description in the upper rooms of the tavern The Sleeping Darkness."

Tega shuddered to think of the torment that elf had endured and felt a surge of guilt for even thinking of leaving them, "Would they consider selling her?"

"Maybe, if you could pay well enough, she serves a dedicated clientele she would take a hefty price."

Tega asked a question she didn't know if she wanted to hear the answer to, "Why are they dedicated? What's the allure?"

Rhyth laughed, it was a genuine laugh but he sounded terrible, everything surface elves feared in a drow, "She likes to fight back, not many of them do for long."

"They let you fight with her?" She asked, carefully not allowing herself to think too far beyond the end of this fight.

"To subdue her, yes."

"And if she were to die accidentally?"

Rhyth grinned, "Ah- well then you'd have to pay for her. It's a set price. Too high to want to do it for sport, but not unreasonable. We'd need a corpse, they do check. And we would need to sneak her out."

"You sound enthusiastic," Tega said warily.

"I'll enjoy her surprise and distrust when I arrive and tell her I am planning her escape."

Myradin looked a little uncomfortable and Tega just wanted to send him off to a good school somewhere where he wouldn't have to listen to this sort of conversation.

"What do I get for helping you?" Rhyth asked, swirling the end of his wine before finishing it.

Tega knew when to appeal to someone's good nature and when to act a little more like those around her. "I will be returning to Jarlaxle who has a real army, no more paltry little missions which are beneath you. Weren't you born a noble?"

He scowled, "My house fell when I was very young. I am hardly a noble."

"Haven't you been running errands for whining matron mothers and power hungry priestesses? You weren't even sent to House Baenre."

He scowled, obviously scorned by being left out of the prestigious assignment, "How would I know Jarlaxle would do any better?"

"Jarlaxle takes my advice on this, and I don't care about favors."

"You're not doing a good job selling this, elf," he laughed and ordered more wine for he and Tega, Myradin still working on his first cup.

She smiled, "Myradin told me you were a good fighter, quick on your feet, elegant with your sword, I didn't think you would need my favors. I recommend soldiers based on their abilities alone."

He considered this over his wine, "I'd heard that about the Bregan D'aerthe, that they don't care much about your station before you come on board. Although what about that little one Kimmandriel or something, wasn't he snatched up as a little noble boy and given some title right away?"

"Lieutenant Kimmuriel?" she asked, "He was a noble yes, he's a psion, I would say he earned his position."

"The hell is the psion?" he asked.

"Oh! It's like a wizard except with his mind!" Myradin answered excitedly, "He can move things and control energy and read thoughts!"

"Holy fucking Lloth legs," he swore, "Sounds like a hell of a weapon."

"And here you've been with Dor'rolik playing little games."

"Ok ok," he laughed, "You win, I want to join the big girls."

"So now, a corpse and an escape plan for our elf," Tega prompted.

"Right," he said, "Kid, you do magic, can you make a corpse look like her if I get you one?"

Myradin nodded, "Of course I can."

"Excellent, I'll ask to meet her in one of the nicer rooms that overlook the city, there's a window. We can sneak her out of there and the corpse in. Then Tega, you will give me the money to pay for her death."

She nodded, "Yes, that's right."

"And then what? We flee to the Bregan D'aerthe? How?"

"Is there a place we can put her up in secret while we wait for a good opportunity to go?"

"Hm," he thought about this, "Yes, there are some low end inns that won't question it."

"Good, then we will put her there until we can get a message to Jarlaxle. I don't cherish another trip through the Wilds."

"Another?" he asked in interest, "You've been in the Wilds?"

"Jarlaxle had some work with the renegade Do'Urden and Mithril Hall."

Rhyth smiled, "Really? That boy that embarrassed half the city? Lloth blessed little thing, I enjoyed the story. Although not as much as I enjoyed hearing about big bad House Baenre losing to a bunch of dwarves."

"Lloth blessed?" she asked, "How is the boy Lloth blessed?"

This made Rhyth half giddy, "He caused wars! A whole house crumbled! A patron betrayed his own home for his son, he killed the most powerful matron in Menzoberranzan! He's chaos incarnate! Lloth's favorite son."

"If you ever meet him, I would keep that commentary to yourself if you don't want to be acquainted with his little swords."

"Little swords? What does he fight with?"

"Scimitars, I can't remember their names, he told me, Sparkle and Snowflake or something, I remember they were pretty names."

"I'd like to see him fight one day, so he works for Jarlaxle?"

"Just that once, but I think Jarlaxle would like to see him join."

"I'm sure he would, now meet me here tomorrow, I'll get a corpse, you bring the gold and the little wizard," he winked at Myradin and dropped some gold on the table for the drinks, heading back out into the city.

Jarlaxle stood in front of the full length mirror in his chambers, wishing that he still had Agatha's mask. That would certainly make this disguise easier. It would take a few weeks to get to the city and some hair would be grown back by then, which would make him a little less distinctive at least. And he hadn't spent much time in Ched Nasad, he probably wouldn't be so well known as to be recognized on the street. He'd gone out of his way to dress less impeccably, trying not to stand out. His pants were ugly and loose, his shirt rothe hide instead of expensive spider silk. He wore swords brazenly on his hips.

He could add a little armor and he'd look a little like Zaknefein. He'd tried to play the long game with him and it had ended with his friend's heart cut out on an altar.

He shuddered to think of Tega laid out on that altar instead, her slight body torn practically in half. He straightened himself up and scowled, certainly Kimmuriel would help in this, he could get them there in an instant, but he did not trust Kimmuriel, he still was not sure that Kimmuriel hadn't put Kar'Dritch up to his betrayal.

He responded when the knock came on his door and hex admitted Dirinar and Vaidril whom Tega had chosen for her team to investigate him. He liked the two of them, Dirinar was too middling a wizard to be up to anything and Vaidril was long passed his prime, he didn't want to maneuver anymore, he seemed happier training young recruits than angling for promotions. Young recruits he liked to see live through their battles, hence his preference for Tega returning to her desk.

"Are you two ready to go?" Jarlaxle asked, missing his boots and hat.

"Yes, sir," Vaidril said, "We've contracted a trip with a trade caravan as you asked. It leaves in a few hours. Lazifeil will mitigate any fallout from you not being here."

That wasn't entirely reassuring, but Jarlaxle only smiled, "I have a back door, come now, you two."

They slipped out of the door he had secreted behind a tapestry and they wound through the cavern that led out of the complex.

They avoided the most populated parts of the city, taking the long way around to meet with their caravan. It was amassing near the main route to their sister city, mostly, as Jarlaxle had requested, people of Ched Nasad, who barely acknowledged them after they paid their way to join them.

With a minor illusion on her to avoid being seen, Tega clutched her Khazir insignia and levitated up the side of the building toward the window that Rhyth had marked. She was holding a magically weightless corpse, Myradin floating right along side her. He'd need to see the woman before he could enchant the corpse.

Rhyth had done as she'd asked and opened the window to the two of them could crawl inside the room.

She stumbled on the sill and it took a moment for her to get herself straightened out and put the corpse on the ground before she could look up, fix her glasses, and take a look at the elf slave.

She almost gasped her name, biting her lip at the very last moment to keep from crying out her name. It was Trilifeil, Meika's wife.

Trilifeil snapped her gaze to Tega, eyes dark and untrusting, but wide in their surprise, "...who are you?" She looked between Rhyth, this elf she almost recognized, and the young drow mage.

"Who are you?" she demanded again.

Tega stood straight in her uniform, attempting to look cold and unattached, "I am a lieutenant of the Bregan D'aerthe."

"The mercenaries from that other city? So? What do you want with me? Or is this some new sport?" She spit at Rhyth, who smiled at her.

"Our Captain, Jarlaxle, is interested in learning about Wild Elves. We are here to bring you to him."

She could see her thinking about this, anything would probably be better than her fate here, "You are taking me to another city?"

"Yes."

"Not without my son," she said firmly.

"Your son?" she asked, knowing it was not Meika's son, but one conceived here by someone like Rhyth, "How old is he?"

"Four, but yes he's here. He's in my private rooms below."

"How would we retrieve him?"

"We can't bring the boy," Rhyth said, "Leave him."

Trilifeil kicked at him, but he only laughed and dodged her.

"Alright, then we leave him for now and I come back and buy him outright. I'm sure he will be worth less than the mother," Tega said.

"An orphan little half drow? Sure he will. He'll take years of food before he's useful to anyone. Not many have tastes for ones so young."

The very mention of this made Trilifeil's lip curl viciously. She'd received more than her fair share of scars and bruises in her time down here, making her look ferocious. "What will you do with him when you've got him?" She asked Tega.

"Better than what they'll do with him here," Tega said simply, "You'll have to extend us a little trust."

"Trust?" She asked indignantly, "You come here working with him and you think I'll trust you?"

"What could we possibly do to you that will be worse than what you're already slated for? How long can you protect your son here? How old will he have to be before you're bought as a matched set?" she felt cold asking it, but needed Trilifeil to move.

"...fine," she said, "but if you hurt my son, I'll kill you," she threatened grimly.

"Understood," Tega said.

Rhyth looked over the corpse and punched it's face hard a couple of times, smashing it in, "That'll make it easier to disguise. Do your thing, kid."

Myradin came out from where he'd been trying not to look like he was hiding behind Tega, as Trilifeil was intimidating him. He looked at Trilifeil then the corpse and cast his illusion, making it look as much like her as possible.

Tega smiled at Rhyth, "You look like you're in pretty good shape for having just had to kill her."

That made him chuckle, "Well, Trilly, you'd better hit me a couple times huh?"

She moved like a viper and him him as hard as she could across the face, taking advantage of the opportunity to get him a couple of times.

"Alright, alright," Tega could not help but chuckle, "I think that will do."

"You sure?" Trilifeil asked, "Maybe one more."

Rhyth glared through a swelling eye, "Yeah that will do."

Tega handed over the money to Rhyth who waited for them to leave the way they'd come in with a living elf in place of the corpse they'd brought.

They kept themselves out of main roads and went quickly to the rougher part of the city, Tega not feeling especially safe with only the little mage who did not like this part of the city any more than she did, and a very angry, distrusting elf.

She gave too much gold to a svirfnebli innkeeper to buy his silence and installed Trilifeil in a room, "Stay here. I will return with your son."

She removed her Khazir insignia and returned without Myradin to the terrible brothel, attempting to look as cold and analytical as Kimmuriel. She'd need to to sell her story.

The drow female sitting idly in the brothel's main lounge looked at her curiously, "Good day, it isn't often surface elves come here, what sort of evening are you looking for?"

"I am not looking for fleeting pleasures of the flesh," she said in clipped, formal drow, "I am looking for a subject of a range of experiments myself and my fellow… researchers."

"Researchers? Like who?"

She tilted her head slightly, unconcerned, "Illithids."

"Vith, really?" she said, lip curling, "What are you looking for?"

"I assume a… practice such as yours will have no shortage of half-drow. We are looking for something young, elf preferably."

She heaved a sigh and got up, "Sure, we have some half drow around- two that might do, male and a female, and preference there?"

She shrugged, "Might as well use the male, he won't survive long, no use wasting something with potential."

The female laughed, "I'll get him. I'll take the gold now though, we can't take anything on credit."

"Of course, I would not have it otherwise."

She disappeared into a door that led to a long downward staircase and Tega did her best to ignore the other patrons of the establishment. Luckily any word of her working with Illithid made them want to give her as wide a berth as they could, unsure if she was an ally of theirs or a thrall. Either way they didn't want entanglements.

When the female returned with the boy she could see right away he was the right one, his skin might have been a dusky gray, but his eyes were not red, but deep and dark like those of Trilifeil and most of her people, his hair too was not white but dark brown and worn long in the braids of a child. Overall he looked darker even than most drow without the hair to lighten him.

She handed over a bag of gold, "This should suffice."

"Sure," she said, weighing it, "Nice doing business with you."

The boy had been born into this and did not struggle, allowing her to take him by the shoulder and lead him back outside where Myradin waited with Rhyth, "Look at him, handsome little thing," Rhyth said, "We did it then, and soon we will be taking them to Menzoberranzan?"

"I'll let you know," she replied, "I have business with the two elves, I will speak to the two of you shortly."

Myradin nodded and she swept off with the boy, back to the inn, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

She was glad when, finally, she reached it's doors and could disappear inside where her gold had bought her at least a little protection. She walked up the stairs to the second floor and knocked before entering the room Trilifeil was in.

The boy shot out from under her hand to his mother's arms the second he saw her and yelled in their own language, that Tega had not heard in many years, "Mama!" he shouted, "Mama! They said you were dead!"

She held him tightly, rocking back and forth, the boy clutched to her chest, "No no, I am alive, I'm here, we are going somewhere new."

She looked up at Tega warily, "Now tell me why I shouldn't kill you and go my own way. Look at you, you barely have enough muscle to fight a kobold."

Tega drew the bracelet from her pocket and held it up for Trilifeil to see, "I hope you don't, I would like to be able to return this to my brother, Meika, in person."

Trilifeil's breaths were shaky as she stared at it, and then at Tega, "... Meika? You're- you're little Tega? But- you're alive? Why are you down here?!"

"I've been working with the Bregan D'aerthe."

"Why?" She snarled, "The drow are pests."

"Because half of my people were taking to the Underdark as captives."

"...And what? You took a job with mercenaries to wait until you could help us?"

"I'm here aren't I?" she asked.

"You couldn't even complete a hunt."

"And yet I freed you and your son."

"You're right, you've grown since I last saw you. Meika lives?"

"Yes, he's in Calimport where they took me. He's the weapon's master at a guild."

She nodded, "So how will we get out? Are you really taking us to Jarlaxle? What's he like? Why are you working with Rhyth?"

Tega sat down, looking at the boy while she answered, "I'm working with Rhyth because I am short on allies in this city. I didn't even know it was you I was rescuing. He told me where a wild elf was. I don't trust him or like him, but he is willing to help us to jump to a better mercenary band."

"I didn't know he was a mercenary."

"He is what we've got right now. And the boy mage, whom I do like and marginally trust. But to your other questions, yes, we will be returning to the Bregan D'aerthe. I don't have the means or methods to free more than a score of slaves here and march them all back together."

"I don't know if any others live, I was stuck there in that house."

She nodded, having suspected as much, "Jarlaxle will treat you kindly when I explain who you are, I'm… I'm certain he will help return you to the surface."

"You don't sound certain. Ignore that plan. The three of us will strike out for the surface ourselves."

"...you want to take myself and a little boy into the Wilds alone? Are you suicidal?"

"It will be better than a slow death after this Jarlaxle betrays us."

"You're a fool, we aren't doing that."

Trilifeil frowned, "You are an unmarked child, I know better than you how to keep my son safe."

Hot anger sliced through Tega and then a wave of guilt, "Trilifeil, I would rather return you whole to Meika and the forest than see you cut down by a Hook Horror, but if that is what you want for you and your son I won't stop you."

"...Hook Horror?"

"Yes," she said mercilessly, "Giant bloodthirsty beasts that frighten even seasoned drow and are usually hunted by well trained teams of at least ten. How do you suppose you will do?"

"This place is suffocating," she said, "You're right, we can't go into the wilds alone. I don't know my way, first of all."

"What's your son's name?" she asked softly.

The boy looked at Tega, his dark head snuggled against his mother, "I'm Vhassa."

"Your father's name," Tega said to her, "A good name."

"He is one of us," she said ferociously.

"Of course he is, I would never question that."

She softened considerably, "Thank you, Tega, others may not see it like that."

"He's your son, Tril, that's the end of it."

"What will Meika think?"

"Meika?" she asked and she already knew, she knew from the council he'd given her when they were at the guild in order to keep her safe, she knew from the man she knew he was, "He will be proud to be a father."

She smiled, "I hope you're right, I hope he hasn't forgotten me."

"When I was with him he told me you were what he thought of before he slept and as soon as he woke."

She looked weak for a moment and held Vhassa, "You'll get us back to him? Back home?"

"Yes, I promise."

The door of Tega's room slammed open with no warning knock. She shot up from bed, in pajamas and scrambled for a knife. She had no time to get it.

Dor'rolik stalked toward her, curved dagger drawn. He hit her across the face, breaking her glasses, "After what I gave to you? You betray me?" He hit her again.

She got her hand around her knife handle and swung at him but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she gasped and dropped the knife, "Little elfling, you're no match here. You are in over your head, turning my mage on me. You should have been more careful where you were meeting. I have ears everywhere." He hit her again and she fell to the bed.

"...what's this?" he asked, so unconcerned with her as a threat he felt no need to hurry. He bent and picked up the bracelet that had fallen from her bag, "... I have seen this before… where did you get it?"

He pulled her up and looked at her, grinning handsomely at her bloody face, "Ah, I see, as I guessed, Wild Elf and Moon Elf. You were with them weren't you? Those wild elves I hunted down, that was the best haul of my life, got such a pretty fortune for them. I should have taken them all down to the underdark. So where did you go? Did I sell you here or to the humans?"

"...to the humans," she answered, hoping it would buy her time to think. She did not see a way out of this.

He flicked his dagger out under her chin and forced her to scramble up on her knees and tilt up her head to avoid it cutting into her. "And you came here to what? Get revenge and free your people? You know you surface elves are almost dull you are so predictable."

"Jarlaxle will come," she said, hoping to scare him.

"If Jaraxle were going to come, he would already be here. You know this could have been good for both of us. But I'll still get something out of you. You know all those good Bregan D'aerthe secrets. Let's get those out of you, shall we?"

He flicked the knife and sliced a line of red open on her shoulder, "Do you remember when I murdered your chief?" He asked her, "I do, he went down easy, like a big, lumbering rothe. I didn't even have particularly good soldiers."

"I can still show you how the project works."

"And I would love to be able to believe you, Tega," he said, "But now I can't, and that's your fault. And it's your fault that your people are going to die slaves. If you'd asked maybe I'd have even helped you free them. I really thought you'd be an asset."

"You wouldn't have."

"Do you know that?" he asked, "You'll never know that for sure now."

"I can't imagine I will live much longer now," she said.

"Oh you will, I assure you. No need to ruin my fun just because you're ungrateful." He drew the very tip if his knife up her cheek, cutting a red streak as it went. She gasped in pain.

The door cracked closed and a warrior shout filled the room, young Hala, the slave pelting at Dor'rolik with a kitchen knife.

He blocked the attack with his dagger and swung at her, Tega taking the opportunity to whip books from the shelf he'd given her at him, hitting the back of his head.

Hala was not well trained but she was quick on her feet and got some cuts in with that knife as he became distracted by the books.

He turned in rage and whipped his knife, its aim was true and it buried itself where Jarlaxle's had, weeks ago, in her right shoulder.

He was unarmed now and Hala had some chance, she managed to slice open a red line on his chest before he got ahold of her knife hand by the wrist and kicked her.

Tega's glasses were broken and she couldn't see the details of the fight, it felt far away, the pain in her shoulder pressed in on her. A new voice came and lights blazed into existence. Then there was quiet for a moment.

"Tega, we must go," Myradin said, "Oh- oh that doesn't look good."

"Hala, Trilifeil is here, in an inn room, we need to get there and get out," Tega said, struggling to stay upright.

"I- I can do- I can help with that a little bit," Myradin said. He didn't have a fancy healing orb like Jarlaxle had, but he pulled out the dagger, which made her gasp, and murmured some words which stemmed the blood and burned it closed. It hurt just the same, but she thought maybe it wouldn't kill her.

She struggled up, half blind and took Hala's hand, "Myradin, we have to get out, take us out of here, is Dor'rolik dead?"

"I don't think so, but we need to go."

"We can't leave him alive," Tega said, "You just betrayed him, he'll run us to the ends of the earth. If we kill him they'll be too caught up filling his place to bother."

"Go on, then," Myradin said.

Hefting his dagger, unable to see, with him already unconscious was not how she'd envisioned it so many times. She kneeled beside him and tried to conjure that up, how badly she wanted his blood hot on her hands. Vengeance for her people, for herself. She imagined her father's death, the way Dor'rolik laughed, the little elf he'd tortured.

She lifted the dagger and, with a gasp, plunged it into his heart. It cut in easier than she'd expected. She could feel the blade scrape on his ribs. His blood did pour out over her hands, it was hot. She heard his breathing labor and shudder and stop.

She did not feel vindicated or triumphant. She felt like she was going to throw up. All the could smell was his blood, she was hyperventilating and becoming dizzy. She'd never killed anyone before, not directly, not like this. She pulled the dagger loose and gagged at the noise it made.

She staggered to her feet and looked at Myradin and Hala, "We should go right?"

"Yes," Hala said, "Let's go."

It hurt her shoulder to dress in her uniform again, but it had to be done, she didn't know what was making her head seem foggy, the smell of death or her broken glasses.

The three of them marched from the room with purpose, making quick time out of the compound, no one had found his body yet so there was no alert. They made it to the street but did not know where to go from there.

"Tega?!" A terribly familiar voice hissed when they were on the street.

She turned but couldn't distinguish him from any other drow, "Drizzt?" She asked, hopefully, how could he be here?

He took her hand, which was shaking, "Tega, you're hurt, and shaking, I was told you were a captive."

"I was- Dor'rolik is dead. I killed him. He killed my family and sold them into slavery and he's dead."

"Shhh, we need to get off the street," he murmured, "Shirik is with me."

She let him guide her out of the street and into the dark cave where Moxa was being kept.

"You'll need to go and get my sister, I won't leave without her," she said, not letting go of Drizzt's hand.

"Yes, I'll get her, I will need to bring something so she will trust me. Tega are you alright?"

She was shivering and Myradin had turned away, uncomfortable to watch such a display.

She shook her head and when Drizzt touched her shoulder, letting her nestle closer to him, she spoke in elvish, "I killed Dor'rolik."

"Yes, you said as much, he sounded as if he deserved death."

"I've never killed anyone before." How glad she was to admit this to soft and warm hearted Drizzt than to Kimmuriel.

He let her shiver in his arms and patted her hair, "I know, it doesn't feel like you think it will. It doesn't help at all."

"I wanted to kill him for so long."

"It is a good thing this is so hard," he said, "You wouldn't want it to become easy."

"Kimmuriel told me I would be a drow if I had darker skin," she could not help but cry, softly, into his shoulder.

Drizzt let her, "You do not seem much like a drow to me, crying for your long time enemy. Nor did you seem so like it when you came to my rescue."

"Are we even then?" she asked.

"I am not inclined to keep score."