Chapter Eight

It was yet another drab, nondescript morning in a seemingly endless string of bleak days when a dire piece of unwanted news arrived via Phendrana's melancholy-eyed attendant, Lux.

The doppelganger sat in his usual chair at the dining table in his private quarters with his head bowed over a small plate of barely-touched food; across the table in their familiar seats sat the twin princes Mattick and Vattick, similarly morose in every way and watching their modest breakfast grow colder and colder for lack of appetite. Such had been the norm for weeks now – had it been months, actually, and the passing of time had just lost all meaning for the downtrodden mindmaster and his glum companions? He had quite forgotten. They would congregate, either here in Phendrana's chambers or in the quaint abode the twins shared, and they would lapse into a companionable yet cheerless silence as they brooded and waited for any news, all the while fearing the absolute worst. At times Phendrana saw no merit in entertaining company at all – what was the point when they barely spoke to one another? – but eventually he would remember that being miserable in the company of friends was still better than fretting over their state of affairs alone. So they continued to meet, and sit in silence, and wait.

And suddenly on that morning, quite before any of them were mentally prepared for it, the waiting was abruptly over.

"Forgive my intrusion," Lux murmured in lieu of a greeting, and Phendrana's eyes flitted to the boys' hand where a handwritten missive bearing the High Prince's seal in violet wax was clutched. "I have just received word from the palace messenger. I was instructed to deliver it at once."

Vattick was first to react to these words, bolting from his seat so quickly that Lux actually started; Phendrana merely sat by with haunted eyes deeply set within a face made gaunt by worry and watched the Ninth Prince crack the seal and unfold the parchment to read.

"It cannot be such terrible news," Eighth Prince Mattick reasoned, rounding the table at a much more controlled pace to read over his twins' shoulder. "Surely if it were the Most High would have summoned the council to share it with us all at once."

But ever-perceptive Phendrana read volumes into the way Vattick's darkened pewter eyes were flying over the page and drew his own conclusion. "Unless the news is so grim that the High Prince simply could not bear to speak the words aloud."

Having finished reading the decree quietly to himself Vattick handed the page off to his older twin and stepped away from the table, crossing the room without a word and passing through the floor-length curtains to the balcony wearing a supremely dejected expression that made Phendrana feel instantly ill. Mattick finished just seconds later and released the parchment with downcast eyes, and when it fluttered to rest atop the doppelganger's long-forgotten food he read the words, presumably dictated by the High Prince himself and recorded by the palace scribe, to himself in perfect disbelief.

Herein lies the word of Most High Telamont, also called Lord Shadow, Most Gracious Ruler of the City of Shade known as Thultanthar, Sixteenth Enclave of the Netherese Imperium:

Let it be known that at precisely five o' clock in the morning on this day that Fifth Prince Clariburnus, Supreme Commander of the Army of Shade, has delivered the express demands of Menzoberranzan's First House Baenre pertaining to the immediate release of Princess Soleil Tanthul and the Sceptrana Aveil Arthien:

That Thultanthar pay reparations to First House Baenre in the amount of five hundred thousand gold,

That a binding treaty of universal and perpetual neutrality be executed between Thultanthar and Menzoberranzan, to be upheld in any circumstances,

That the violating of the aforementioned treaty shall result in consequences to be decided upon at a follow-up negotiation to be conducted at a later date, at which the High Prince himself shall be required to attend,

That forty Shadovar nobles of high birth and station be delivered to First House Baenre within six months' time, to be sacrificed to the Spider Queen Lolth as recompense for the loss of High Priestesses whose lives were taken at the hands of the Princes of Shade prior to the cessation of hostilities between these two kingdoms, and

That these demands must be met within one months' time, else the Princess and the Sceptrana forfeit their lives

So sayeth Gromph Baenre, Archmage of Sorcere, spokesman and advisor to Matron Mother Quenthel Baenre, Undisputed Matriarch of Menzoberranzan

Phendrana dropped the missive down upon the dining table and looked to the balcony, where the twin princes were consoling one another in hushed tones, and abruptly found himself filled with rage.

"This travesty cannot stand!" the mindmaster roared, leaping from his chair so quickly that it overturned and crashed to the ground with a great clatter; Mattick and Vattick looked to the doppelganger in alarm, for Phendrana had never been prone to bouts of anger. "Surely the High Prince does not mean to honor such a blatantly disjointed treaty?! The drow infiltrated our city and murdered one of our own – they have brought our merciless retaliation upon themselves! Did they think we would not react in kind? And now, simply because they have acquired two valuable hostages through the most deceitful means imaginable, they make further demands to demean us all?! Where is the justice in this?! How can this be our reward for taking up arms against those who would oppress us?!"

Mattick laid a comforting hand upon Vattick's shoulder, for the younger twin was looking increasingly more distraught with every word Phendrana spoke. "There is no justice in war," the Eighth Prince reminded solemnly. "There is no fairness, Phendrana. Such is the way of things."

"But the Army of Shade!" Phendrana roared, clutching his head with half-crazed eyes. "Escanor, Clariburnus, Yder and Rapha! We are still in a position advantageous enough to put a stop to this madness! Why does the High Prince not order another invasion? We have the strength to crush these impertinent dark elves, and we always have! Yet instead we will simply meet their demands, no matter how cowardly it makes us appear?"

"You are suggesting that we abandon Soleil and Aveil to whatever awful fate the drow have in store for them should we refuse to accept their terms?" Vattick cut in with flashing eyes, and Phendrana sensed that he had overstepped his bounds this time.

The doppelganger sucked in a shaky breath and spread his hands beseechingly, doing his best to appeal to the gentle nature he knew the twins possessed. "But the alternative is to send no less than forty nobles to their deaths! Forty innocents!"

"Yes," Mattick agreed coolly, as simultaneously from behind the mindmaster Lux's soft voice could barely be heard saying, "What?"

Phendrana turned back to dismiss the boy, having forgotten he was still there and thinking it quite inappropriate for his housekeeper to be privy to such a sensitive discussion, to find that Lux had retrieved the High Prince's decree from the floor and was reading it with wide, fearful eyes. When he had finished he fixed Phendrana with an expression of heart-wrenching terror, his face suddenly pale and his lips parted in a panicked gasp, and then the poor boy simply dropped to the floor and covered his face with his hands as he wept.

"Boy," called Vattick from the balcony, his tone disgusted and somewhat disapproving, "now would hardly seem the time for your misplaced paroxysms of anguish, don't you think?"

Lux managed to lower his hands enough to speak, his fingertips trembling and tears streaking his cheeks; his sorrowful eyes nearly speared Phendrana to the floor when he wailed, "I don't want to leave you, Lord Phendrana. Please don't send me away. Please don't let them take me, I'm begging you, I'll do anything!"

Then he collapsed to the ground, weeping openly - and suddenly Phendrana understood.

The doppelganger hastened to Lux's side and dropped right down to his knees beside the boy, and the instant he held out his arms Lux flew to him with a howl and wept helplessly against his chest, great wracking sobs that told a story Phendrana's natural curiosity had always wanted to hear but had been too frightened to ask. It was the story of a young-looking yet handsome boy who had served Twelfth Prince Brennus diligently and faithfully until being ordered to Phendrana's side, and how that boy's uncanny abilities had caught Phendrana's eye early on. It was the final piece in the puzzle of the boy who could come and go without a sound and who always appeared, seemingly from nowhere, the instant Phendrana spoke his name. It was the story of a boy who had been found sitting in the pews the day of Soleil's wedding to First Prince Escanor – pews that, Phendrana knew, were expressly reserved only for nobles that comprised the Upper Court.

Phendrana held Lux close as he cried and looked to the twins for guidance with stricken eyes, but found no hope in their equally dejected expressions as awful realization dawned.

There was more at stake here than even they knew.

Clariburnus didn't return to the cave in which he and his brothers had taken up refuge until long after his patrol time had expired; when he did all three of them snapped to attention and crowded around him at once. The Fifth Prince attempted to wave off their words of concern, but he could not simply ignore Escanor's inquiries – his eldest brother was his superior, after all – so when Escanor asked, "How did the High Prince receive the news?" Clariburnus had no choice but to turn and face him.

"Not well," he murmured evasively. This, in truth, was a gross understatement; the Most High had been first in disbelief, then in a state of inconsolable rage, and had dissolved into unashamed grief by the time Clariburnus had concluded his summary of his initial round of negotiations with Archmage Gromph Baenre. Five hundred thousand gold was a pittance to Thultanthar's treasury – as the last city of a once-esteemed dynasty whose reach and influence still demanded more clout than most other civilizations in Faerun, the City of Shade would hardly have been financially impacted had the leaders of Menzoberranzan asked for ten times that sum. The proposed peace treaty had come as a surprise, certainly, but not necessarily an unwelcome one; both Thultanthar and Menzoberranzan were widely regarded with hostility and hatred, and a mutual alliance between the two kingdoms would spell both further prosperity and protection for them and the promise of dark days to come for any nation that considered either of them foes. The idea that there would be further negotiations to agree upon repercussions should either side violate the proposed treaty was to be expected, though Clariburnus had thought it quite bold and foolish of House Baenre to demand the High Prince's presence – Most High Telamont did not leave Thultanthar for any reason, had not passed beyond the boundaries of the enclave since its grand return from the Realm of Shadow seventeen centuries before. But the one demand the Baenres had made, the one provision that the High Prince was not prepared to abide, was the sacrifice of no less than forty nobles whose stations were comparable to that of the forty High Priestesses of Lolth who had been slaughtered by the Princes of Shade.

For all its power and grandeur, the City of Shade could not be considered a large empire. At its peak the ancient civilization known as High Netheril had been comprised of twenty six floating enclaves spread out over thousands of miles, but the cataclysm known as Karsus's Folly and the resulting destruction of the old goddess Mystryl had decimated that kingdom, leaving only Thultanthar to carry on the lofty legacy of the Netherese Imperium. Though Thultanthar had flourished and grown strong again upon reappearing in the skies above the Anauroch Desert the kingdom had yet to expand beyond the City of Shade's boundaries, and none of the lands that had previously fallen under High Netheril's banner had been reclaimed. In recent years the Princes of Shade had visited select other nations – Waterdeep and Silverymoon most prominent among these – in the interest of reclaiming those lands, but the massacre of the Lords of Waterdeep and the treaty Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon had forged only from fear had brought about a series of setbacks that had forced the High Prince to set aside his aspirations of expansion for the present. Thultanthar was mighty, but in the grand scheme of things it was also small; the loss of forty High Priestesses to the Spider Queen was significant, to be sure, but it was a loss that Menzoberranzan could easily recover from given a little time. The loss of forty nobles from the Upper Court of Thultanthar would be so devastating that there likely wouldn't be an Upper Court at all in the event that the High Prince agreed to the terms.

And that was what scared Clariburnus most of all. He had been absolutely certain that the Most High would respond unfavorably at first, for there was no denying that House Baenre's demands were quite ambitious, but he had also expected the High Prince to give him permission to return to House Baenre and accept those terms. He'd been certain there was no price the Most High was unwilling to pay for the safe return of his authority on the arcane and his beloved daughter-in-law.

But the High Prince had ultimately dismissed him with only one order: stand by for further instructions.

Now here Clariburnus stood, face-to-face with Escanor's cautious optimism and feeling increasingly more ill at the prospect of passing along such inconclusive news. Surely Escanor was expecting to hear that the High Prince had agreed to House Baenre's terms – how would the First Prince react when he learned that the Most High was considering rejecting them? Would he reluctantly comply, though every fiber of his being compelled him to defy such an order? Would he fly into a fury to rival even their father's? Or worse still, would he disobey and risk upsetting their uneasy truce with Menzoberranzan, all in the name of rescuing his dear wife?

"Not… well?" echoed Sixth Prince Yder uncertainly, a flicker of trepidation in his eyes.

"Surely you weren't expecting the High Prince to be thrilled upon receiving such news," drawled Tenth Prince Rapha from the back of the cave, where he had been resting prior to Clariburnus's return. "The black elves demand much – far more than any of us anticipated, I'll wager."

"But surely he agreed," Escanor argued with a nervous chuckle, watching Clariburnus's face carefully for any hint of emotion all the while. "After all, Soleil – "

Clariburnus couldn't help it – at the mention of Soleil's name, his gaze dropped guiltily to the ground.

The silence that rang throughout the cavern was somehow deafening.

Escanor was shaking his head with a darkening expression that Clariburnus took to mean he would soon have a less-than-favorable scenario on his hands unless he was able to de-escalate it, and quickly. "He said… no? He said… he said no?!"

"He did not," the Fifth Prince overrode him swiftly. "We have been instructed to stand by for further instructions. Surely that does not come as a surprise to you, brother? The Most High has been given much to consider here. To return to House Baenre and immediately accept their terms could lead the drow to believe that they have asked too little – and more importantly, lead them to demand even more from us."

"My wife is in there!" Escanor bellowed, so forcefully that even Rapha was cowed in the face of such anger. "The High Prince's only daughter! What is there to consider?!"

"That the rescue of two lives does not equal the sacrifice of forty, regardless of birth or rank or station!" Clariburnus shouted back with equal fervor, and the look of undiluted rage with which Escanor regarded his younger brother was terrifying enough that both Yder and Rapha took a reflexive step away from the escalating confrontation. "You are blinded by your love for Soleil, so much so that you have not once stopped to consider just who we will be losing in the event the High Prince agrees! What of Irileth, Lamorak's daughter, who upon learning of her father's fall in the Anauroch Desert was inconsolable for weeks in her grief? Are we to abandon her in her moment of greatest need, now that we are all she has left in this world? What of Lux, the boy who served Brennus in the days before Phendrana came to us? Shall this be his great reward for the years of service he has given us – to be handed over like a sheep to the slaughter? And what of Rapha's children? Does the prospect of his intolerable grief mean nothing to you? Are you prepared to look into his eyes every day, until the end of your days, knowing that you prioritized your needs over his own with barely a second thought?"

Clariburnus had been in many fights with his eldest brother over the centuries; they had been pitted against one another countless times in training exercises and sparring matches, and they had found themselves on opposing ends of important topics up for debate for the Shadow Council. But neither brother had ever struck the other in anger, and the sting of that realization hurt far more than the punch Escanor landed to the Fifth Prince's jaw in the next moment when with a single strike the First Prince laid him low. Yder and Rapha both moved to intervene, both sets of eyes wide with shock, but they needn't have bothered; the instant Escanor came to understand just what he had done, all the fight flew from his limbs and he simply stood there with deep regret brimming in his copper eyes.

For his part the Fifth Prince merely picked himself up off the ground, dusted off the seat of his trousers, and regarded his eldest brother with a level stare as he said, "Your disapproval of my words does not make them any less true, dear brother."

Escanor opened his mouth – to curse him or stumble through an apology, Clariburnus could only guess which – but Yder was tugging the First Prince toward the mouth of the cave now, saying, "We have our orders – the High Prince will expect us to follow them to the letter. It will not do for us to be at each other's throats with so much at stake. We have much to consider, and we would all do well to take some time to mull these matters over." Yder's logical response served to restore a measure of Escanor's good sense, for the First Prince allowed himself to be half-dragged out of the cave; Rapha seemed to sense Clariburnus's burning desire to be left to his own devices and followed them out wearing an uncharacteristically pensive expression.

Clariburnus watched his three brothers go, and though his mind was a chaotic whirl of half-formed thoughts and emotions one stood out above all the others – that perhaps the time had come for him to take certain matters into his own hands.

He didn't act rashly, for he wasn't prone to rushing thoughtlessly into any situation no matter how trivial. Instead he stood in the center of the dark cave for several minutes, pondering the course of action he had chosen and forcing himself to consider each and every consequence that might arise as a result of his decisions. He rolled the drow girl's weapon over in his hands thoughtfully as he did so, quietly admiring the craftsmanship – it was an unusual weapon he was only vaguely familiar with, a type of sword with a hooked blade called a khopesh. At first glance he'd thought the metal to be superior steel but after further inspection he surmised it was actually forged of mithril, a precious substance the dwarven races had coveted for thousands of years as their preferred metal for forging. Its edge was kept meticulously sharp, its leather pommel was inlaid with fine golden stitching, and no less than four rubies the size of copper pieces were embedded upon the weapon just below its hilt. Even to the Supreme Commander of the Army of Shade, who had seen more than his share of impressive weapons throughout the course of his life, it was quite a superb blade.

Clariburnus retreated to the backmost corner of the cave, where the battle captive who called herself Faeryl was kept bound at the hands and feet. She had curled up on her side sometime after he had left the cave to patrol the tunnels nearest the Darklake and even now slept soundly; in her slumber she appeared at ease, peaceful even, and Clariburnus found he was quite taken by her comely face despite himself. With the toe of his boot he nudged her gently in the small of her back, and knew the moment she had awoken when she stiffened as though alarmed.

"Be at ease," he told her, though her eyes had yet to open; he took a seat on the stone across from her, the unique blade laid across his lap. "This is a fine blade. How did you come by it?"

At the mention of her weapon Faeryl's eyes shot open, and they landed upon the khopesh in Clariburnus's hands almost at once. Slowly she sat up, those exotic jade eyes of hers wary and alert, and if any fatigue had settled into her muscles after being bound in the same position for several days she did well not to show it. "I came by it honestly," she drawled, her eyes flitting up to his mistrustfully, "if that's what you mean."

"Oh I'm not implying that you came into possession of it through deceitful means," the Fifth Prince clarified lightly. "I simply find myself genuinely curious as to its origins."

But Faeryl was a shrewd one, of that much Clariburnus had already been assured, and the suspicion in her eyes spread to her face as her forehead creased in thought. "It was forged specifically for me, and I have carried it into many battles."

Clariburnus nodded, hardly put off by her vague explanation. "Yet I crossed blades with many dark elves throughout the course of our campaign of Menzoberranzan and not once did I encounter an opponent who bore such an unusual blade. Your kind tends toward simpler weapons, do they not? I have seen many dirks and scimitars and short swords and the occasional crossbow, and let's not forget the ceremonial daggers and scourges of vipers the High Priestesses of Lolth are so very fond of wielding. But the khopesh is not a traditional drow weapon, and certainly not one a female of your species would ever use."

Faeryl raised her chin haughtily, clearly affronted by the familiarity with which Clariburnus spoke of her race. "And what could a Prince of Shade possibly know of my kind?"

"Milady, I am no mere Prince of Shade," Clariburnus corrected almost kindly, spreading his hands with a mischievous grin. "I am a military man, a strategist and a commander – war is in my blood. I was the first to know when the High Prince made up his mind to invade Menzoberranzan, and I made it my duty to educate myself accordingly." He paused then, mindful of the way Faeryl's expression subtly altered at the words educate myself, but did not hesitate for long. "I won't bore you with the details of my research – though I can assure you I was bored, for of course as a military man research is not my forte! – but I will share with you a few useful pieces of information that I came by, if you would care to hear them."

The bound drow shrugged as though to indicate her predicament. "I have no way to free myself, so I suppose I am as much a prisoner to your words as I am to these ropes."

Clariburnus couldn't help but smile at her reply, dripping with sarcasm as it was, for he appreciated levity as much as any man. "Too true! Very well, let me tell you what I have learned. I have found that the drow houses of Menzoberranzan almost never coexist peaceably – inter-house warfare is not only a common occurrence, it is expected, celebrated even! Imagine my horror as I read in-depth documentaries of one house eliminating another simply to improve its standing amongst its cutthroat society! For of course, such a practice is unheard of in Thultanthar; my brothers and I may challenge one another intellectually, we may have heated disputes and sometimes even petty squabbles, but to outright kill one another for glory and prestige? Outrageous. Not to mention the High Prince would never abide such crude behavior. We stand together as a family, always. I would never have survived as long as I have were it not for my brothers."

Faeryl was rolling her eyes theatrically so Clariburnus paused, assuming she had something to say. "You've made your point – you consider the drow way of life to be primitive and beneath you. Pray tell me, what is the point of this senseless diatribe?"

"I have nearly reached it," Clariburnus assured her, and he could feel his smile widening in the face of her continued impatience. "As I was saying… And if such a practice wasn't ludicrous enough all on its own, I discovered there was even more to it! If any nobles of the eliminated house are unlucky enough to have survived such a ruthless onslaught, they are left with two bleak outcomes. If they were born to that house, they can name their aggressor and watch with supreme pleasure as the First House executes their swift justice and destroys the house who instigated the entire onslaught! And then of course they will be welcomed with open arms into the First House – provided their usefulness has not already run its course, that is." Here Clariburnus leaned closer to his prisoner and pitched his voice low enough so that she had to strain to hear, and finished, "But that is not what happened to you, is it? No – had Barrison Del'Armgo laid siege to your house they could never have afforded to let you live, for you might have brought word of their heinous crimes to the high and mighty Baenres and Del'Armgo would be no more. Which brings us to the second outcome."

"I can explain," Faeryl cut in desperately, but the Fifth Prince was quick to override her – her sudden protest only meant that he was on the right track.

"The second outcome, in my opinion, is even sadder than the first. Those who survive but are not nobles of the eliminated house by birth are considered unfit to make any accusations, as their allegiance cannot be confirmed. So these lost souls must look to the victorious house for protection, else they will surely be cast out into the streets and forced to beg just to survive – and I have heard it said that there is no worse fate in Menzoberranzan than to be a drow without a house." Clariburnus sat back on his heels, making a show of passing the ruby-encrusted khopesh from hand to hand with easy, dexterous movements; Faeryl tracked each motion with poison in her eyes, but said nothing. "So Barrison Del'Armgo adopted you from somewhere, and had they taken you from another prestigious house from some neighboring dark elf city you would have been afforded the opportunity to continue serving the Spider Queen as a High Priestess. But if that were the case, we would've found a scourge of vipers on your person when we encountered you in the tunnels – instead, we found this." Clariburnus caught the khopesh in his dominant hand, and quick as a striking snake his other hand darted out and seized Faeryl by the shoulder; the girl shrieked and struggled, but bound as she was could hardly put up a sufficient fight and found herself maneuvered all too easily around to face the cave wall. She squeezed her eyes shut, certain the Fifth Prince meant to skewer her and be done with it, but her shock was total as in the next instant Clariburnus brought the khopesh down and sliced her free of her bonds with a single deft stroke.

"What…?" Unable to find the words to finish voicing her inquiry Faeryl turned back hesitantly to face him, to find Clariburnus watching her with an intensity that was more effective at keeping her still than the ropes could ever have been; when he was certain she was not about to fight or flee Clariburnus laid the weapon aside and at last finished sharing his observations.

"You're not from a noble house – not from here, not from anywhere. You don't pray to that wretched Spider Queen even now, alone and forsaken and surrounded by those you call enemy. And you took advantage of the chaos of war to run away from Menzoberranzan, a sure sign that you find the wilds of the Underdark preferable to any fate that might befall you there." There was a deep empathy reflected in Clariburnus's clear silver eyes when he concluded, "You are not of Menzoberranzan – you are not of the Underdark at all. You were kidnapped from the surface world."

Faeryl lifted a hand – Clariburnus tensed reflexively, ready to subdue her again – and smoothed the loose strands of hair away from her face with slightly-trembling fingers. Even in the perpetual darkness of the cave her eyes were troubled, as though some ghost from her past had appeared in the cavern with them and even now hovered before her. "What does it matter where I am from?" she asked at length in a small voice, wrapping her arms around her middle defensively. "Your people, their people, I see no difference, no quality of life no matter which side claims ownership of me. Menzoberranzan or Thultanthar, it matters not, for I am a prisoner either way."

"Not necessarily," Clariburnus corrected diplomatically, and Faeryl couldn't help glancing up, a flicker of real hope alive in her eyes now. "I, at least, am willing to bargain with you."

"Bargain?" the dark elf girl echoed, her tone one of deep suspicion. "With me? You jest."

The Fifth Prince shook his head and rose; at his full height he would have towered over her had she been standing, but as she sat still curled up on the stone Clariburnus felt rather that he was a giant bearing down upon a quivering gnome. She watched him take his feet with wary eyes, her shoulders tense and her face taut with lingering trepidation, and though her eyes flitted momentarily to where her bejeweled khopesh lay just a few feet away she made no move to retrieve it. This pleased Clariburnus far more than anything else that had passed between them thus far, prompting him to voice his offer. "Certain of my brothers may be prejudiced against your race, but I should like to think that I still retain enough of my inborn humanity even after all these years to know better. At this juncture I simply cannot allow you to go free, for the risk to myself and my brothers is too great for me to ignore, however I can rethink the particulars of your captivity as I see fit. Here is what I propose – help me survey Menzoberranzan, provide me with any useful information you deem pivotal to our cause, and assist us in bringing them down from within. In exchange, I will grant you your freedom."

Faeryl's first response to this was to laugh as though it was the most ludicrous thing anyone had ever said to her; Tenth Prince Rapha, who by now had diligently taken up watch at the mouth of the cave just out of earshot of their conversation, cocked his head to the side and snarled, "Keep a muzzle on your pet, brother, or I will do it for you."

"Hold your tongue," Clariburnus warned Rapha, gazing appraisingly down at Faeryl all the while; her laughter had died abruptly with Rapha's words and now she watched Clariburnus with a scrutinizing intensity that suggested she was attempting to dissect every line of his face in the hopes she might find the truth hidden there.

"You cannot possibly mean these words," she reasoned, though it was clear in the slowly-blossoming hope in her eyes that she was desperate to cling to his promise.

"If through your aid I am able to determine a way to rescue House Baenre's two prisoners and avoid returning there to accept the heinous terms of their laughable negotiations, I will release you from captivity," Clariburnus reiterated solemnly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You will be free – I will personally escort you out of the Underdark and back to the surface world to wherever you wish to go, on my honor as a Prince of Shade."

Faeryl drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, appearing more childlike than ever before; it struck Clariburnus just how lost she appeared suddenly, and he found himself lamenting whatever miserable circumstances she had been forced to endure within House Barrison Del'Armgo just to keep herself alive over the years. "You are making me promises based on nothing," Faeryl pointed out at last, shaking her head in disbelief. "All you have are these theories you have presented and the conclusions you have drawn – you have no facts. I haven't told you where I'm from, or how I came to find myself in Menzoberranzan. You are risking everything on an assumption."

Her words rang with truth, but it was not a truth Clariburnus hadn't already considered. And though he had no verbal evidence that his assumptions were the right ones he had been reading volumes into her facial expressions and body language throughout the duration of their discussion, and at this point he was certain he had already scraped together the proof he needed to support his theories. "I've seen all I needed to see," he assured her, "and for now I do not feel the need to say more. Do you accept?"

Uncurling her legs Faeryl climbed to her feet, and though her movements were still a little shaky after being bound for several days she still moved with the inborn grace of her people; Clariburnus gestured wordlessly to her blade, which still lay on the ground between them, and held out one hand toward her. Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, the girl bent into a crouch and retrieved it. As she straightened, Clariburnus silently vowed that if she made a single move to attack him he would kill her and be done with it. Whether she knew she was being tested or she had chosen to accept him at his word Faeryl laid the sword in his outstretched hand, and Clariburnus couldn't help but smile.

"Very good," he congratulated, suddenly businesslike. "Now, come with me – we have much to do."

"You're what?!" Yder snapped in a mix of anger and disbelief, and Clariburnus hurriedly shushed his brother and glanced back toward the cave fearfully, praying ever-volatile Rapha hadn't heard the outburst.

He hadn't imparted much of his plan – just enough to excuse himself, and his "captive", for the time being. Escanor was nowhere to be seen, though Yder had assured him the First Prince had swapped patrols as an excuse to spend some time away from camp and clear his head. This, Clariburnus was certain, was the best opportunity he was going to get to slip away from the Darklake cavern and begin a more thorough investigation of the tunnels surrounding Menzoberranzan. Yder hadn't taken the news well and even now appeared to be wrestling internally with which of his dozen questions to address first, but Clariburnus waved his concerns away.

"We are going to try to pinpoint a way to circumvent the patrols surrounding Menzoberranzan and infiltrate House Baenre without being detected," the Fifth Prince murmured in an undertone, for while Rapha hadn't reacted as though he'd overheard his brother's schemes Clariburnus was nothing if not overly cautious where the hexblade was concerned.

Yder was shaking his head disapprovingly. "Clariburnus, you can't possibly be considering this course of action seriously! Have you thought about what could happen if the drow see you prowling the tunnels near their city? It will be taken as an act of aggression and a blatant violation of an already-tenuous negotiation! You will be further endangering Soleil and Aveil's lives, and invalidating our cessation of hostilities with Menzoberranzan – and never mind the fact that the High Prince gave us strict orders to stand by and wait for further instructions! That you would risk so much based on nothing but your intuition is one thing, but to include her!" Here Yder jerked his head irritably in Faeryl's direction, who had been standing partially concealed behind Clariburnus for the duration of the debate; in response to the Sixth Prince's withering glare she started as though frightened but wisely held her tongue. "You may as well be handing her a blade and exposing your back! This is madness, brother! When Escanor returns and hears of this – "

"He will likely be furious," Clariburnus supplied helpfully, hardly put off by Yder's continued protests, "but in the end he will resign himself to this course of action. You can see in his face how desperately he craves action, Yder – need I remind you that his wife is one of the Baenre's prisoners? Yet he has ever followed the High Prince's demands to the letter, for good or ill. You know that I harbor a great love and respect for Escanor, but I tend to listen to my heart in these matters – much like Brennus once did, may I remind you."

At the mention of the lost loremaster Yder visibly blanched, but the logic was sound. Though they all had been truly devastated by the loss of the Twelfth Prince to the Sixth Imaskarcana, Clariburnus in particular had been nearly inconsolable; he had always been closest to Brennus of all of them, and Yder suspected it was their shared penchant for passion over logic that had kept them close over the centuries. Though it pained him greatly to serve as the voice of reason in this instance, Yder simply couldn't keep the words to himself. "And where is Brennus now for having followed his heart, dear brother? Have you forgotten so quickly the cost of acting out of emotion?"

The Fifth Prince's eyes darkened at this remark; Yder wisely took a step away from him. "Mind your words, brother. I have already struck Rapha for undermining me – I will not hesitate to defend Brennus's honor in a similar manner if I must."

"I do not mean to dishonor Brennus's memory, you know that." Yder dared to move closer, his hands outstretched imploringly. "But I am frightened! We have lost so much! Hadrhune has been taken from us – were it not for the doppelganger and his unorthodox methods, he would be lost to us for all time. Brennus is gone, perhaps never to return, and do not forget that Lamorak was struck down also! I am begging you – do not endanger Soleil and Aveil by acting so rashly. Return to your senses - I know you have them! – and do as the High Prince has commanded us to do, and wait."

But Clariburnus was shaking his head solemnly, a kind of ancient sadness shining dully in the depths of his eyes. "I cannot do that. We can all agree that leaving Soleil and Aveil to their current fate is unacceptable, and we can also agree that sacrificing forty nobles to be killed in their stead is a deplorable solution. That leaves us with only one route to take – we must find a way to keep everyone safe, and the High Prince's order be damned."

Yder rocked back a step as though he had been physically struck, rendered speechless by the Fifth Prince's blasphemous words. "Brother, please! Listen to yourself!"

"No. I am going. You may tell Escanor the truth of where I've gone, but you do not have the authority to try and stop me." And with that Clariburnus turned on his heel and stalked off down the jagged shoreline – bound, Yder suspected, for the tunnel that would lead back in the direction of Menzoberranzan.

Then Yder's eyes fell upon Faeryl, who seemed rooted to the spot in fear. "You," he spat, bearing down on her menacingly. "If any ill befalls my brother on account of you, so help me – "

"Come, Faeryl!" barked Clariburnus, and with a start the girl hurried off toward him – anything to escape facing Yder's swiftly-mounting wrath.

They walked together in silence for quite some time; Clariburnus's steps were purposeful but rushed, and it was clear that he was still stewing over his encounter with Yder so Faeryl wisely kept silent. Eventually, though, it seemed the anger leeched out of his steps, and he turned back to face her wearing an expression that was almost sheepish; were Faeryl's eyes not naturally attuned to viewing the heat spectrum, she would not have been able to make out even a single feature beneath the shadows that clung so close to his body.

"I suspect you will face more ridicule when we return," Clariburnus told her quietly, seeming apologetic, "but if it's any consolation, so will I."

At first, Faeryl wasn't at all certain how she should respond. The entire situation was still completely overwhelming – to go from a runaway to a prisoner to the reluctant ally of a Prince of Shade in less than a tenday had her mind spinning – but she possessed enough sense to understand that it had been monumental indeed for him to stand up to his brother the way he had.

If Faeryl was prepared to be honest with herself, she had accepted Clariburnus's bargain fully intending to escape the moment he let his guard down – how could she not, after spending so much of her life in captivity already? His speech had been flowery enough to come across as intriguing, but one slaver was the same as any other as far as she was concerned; his word on his "honor as a Prince of Shade" meant absolutely nothing to her, for as far as she knew the shadow masters of Thultanthar were just as cruel and demeaning as the Matron Mothers of Menzoberranzan and could not be trusted to uphold their word. But there was no denying that Clariburnus's fiery speech in face of his brother's obvious disapproval had thoroughly impressed her, and for a moment she couldn't help but wonder if this man was different than those who had enslaved her in the past. Certainly none of them had placed themselves in such a vulnerable position around her before, that much was true – though whether that was bravery or stupidity, she could not say.

"I am long since used to being subject to ridicule," Faeryl told him at last with a sigh. "A little more will hardly break my spirit."

Clariburnus nodded as though pleased, then gestured to the black, nondescript tunnel they were currently traversing. "Lead on, milady."

Faeryl balked at this. "You want me to lead?"

The Fifth Prince lifted an eyebrow, half in amusement and half in suspicion. "Is that a problem?"

The dark elf runaway worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, her thoughts racing. It would be next to impossible to slip off into an adjoining corridor and escape with him following along behind and watching her every move, not to mention she was still unarmed – she had hoped the Fifth Prince would hand her weapon over as thanks for her support, but instead he had tucked it into an unused scabbard upon his hip and she refused to leave without it.

"I am unarmed," she pointed out after a rather lengthy hesitation, and to this Clariburnus simply chuckled.

"But I am not," he reminded, patting the hilt of her sheathed khopesh with one hand and indicating the handle of his black glass glaive with the other. "And in the event we are set upon, I will ensure that no harm comes to you."

Faeryl squared her jaw and narrowed her eyes, both clear indicators that she was becoming increasingly more vexed, but Clariburnus just smiled as though he found her foul humor amusing. "And what if we are set upon in great numbers?"

"Several months ago, when the Army of Shade first began its descent into the Underdark to march upon Menzoberranzan, my brother Rapha and I slew the venerable purple dragon Orokurtz," Clariburnus divulged airily, as though this information alone should settle the debate, and in response to the withering look Faeryl cast his way the Fifth Prince laughed aloud and added, "The odds that we will encounter a foe I am unable to dispatch singlehandedly are slim to none, milady, and that is not a boast – it is pure fact."

The drow waif rolled her eyes and moved past him to lead the way forward, but her intuition told her that there was a great deal of truth to his words.

The route they struck to take them from the Darklake to Menzoberranzan was rather straightforward and they did not run afoul of any of the number of creatures known to dwell in the area; Clariburnus took advantage of the fact that Faeryl was forging their path forward to study her more closely as they made their way. Like all dark elves Faeryl moved with natural stealth and grace, but there was an uncanny fluidity to her every step that made him wonder what sort of training she'd had over the years. Her natural gait was not heel-toe as was typical of most bipedal races but the complete opposite, and the more Clariburnus watched her flit from alcove to alcove the more convinced he became that she'd been trained in creative arts. This further solidified his theory that she was not of the Underdark but had lived in the surface world before being abducted by drow from Menzoberranzan – the dark elves that resided below the ground found little value in performing arts such as dance or song, and considered the teaching of such practices to be a waste of time. Again he caught himself wanting to question her about her past, certain that she possessed tales that would leave him feeling pleasantly awed, but he swallowed his inquiries with a little difficulty.

They traveled together in silence for perhaps twenty minutes or so, and then Faeryl unexpectedly spoke up – softly though, ever mindful of their surroundings. "Your brother… the one you quarreled with before our departure…"

"Yder," Clariburnus supplied helpfully. He thought "quarreled" was a bit of a strong term; the Princes of Shade were argumentative and competitive when they disagreed, but fiercely supportive of one another at the end of the day. He doubted very much that Yder would still be angry with him when they returned, and he certainly didn't intend to hold a grudge.

"Yes. Yder." Faeryl's face screwed up as she spoke the name, rolling the unfamiliar syllables over her tongue distastefully. "He mentioned someone named Brennus. Who is Brennus?"

Clariburnus chuckled good-naturedly beneath his breath, prompting Faeryl to glance back over her shoulder at him curiously. "You are quite bold, milady, to inquire after my personal life while sharing nothing of yourself. Shouldn't I be questioning you?"

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn," Faeryl answered, though she did not sound apologetic at all – quite the contrary her words came out laced with sarcasm, wringing yet another chuckle out of the Fifth Prince.

"Brennus is my youngest brother, the Twelfth Prince of Shade." Even now, months following the chain of events that had resulted in the loremaster's imprisonment within the pages of the Sixth Imaskarcana, speaking Brennus's name aloud still made Clariburnus's throat feel thick with sudden emotion; he swallowed hard, determined not to let his grief show in front of the girl. "We were quite close, having shared many of the same ideals. Perhaps if our partnership continues I will tell you more of him - provided you don't stab me in the back, of course."

"I would need to be armed in order to stab you in the back," Faeryl pointed out dryly, and this time Clariburnus laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

"So serious!" the Fifth Prince chortled beneath his breath, fully aware that Faeryl had turned to face him with hands set disapprovingly on hips and a nonplussed expression on her face. "I cannot decide which is more amusing – the fact that you react with such open hostility to all my jests, or the fact that you are reacting with such hostility because you truly don't understand that my words are just that."

Rolling her eyes Faeryl continued on, saying, "You seem awfully carefree for a man in your position."

"And what position is that?" Clariburnus asked, still chuckling.

"War with another kingdom, countless lives already lost, potentially more to come. Two prominent members of your society held captive by the most prestigious – not to mention ruthless – house in Menzoberranzan, likely being tortured daily for information. Ordered by your monarch to await further instructions, knowing that every moment that passes might be someone's last."

Clariburnus turned his eyes to the jagged stone overhead, considering. "An accurate assessment of the situation as you know it – I commend you."

"This is what I mean," Faeryl snapped, not bothering to turn back and face him this time, certain he was listening quite closely to every word. "The outcome for you is bleak, no matter how you choose to look at it – yet here you are, pretending as though you haven't a care in the world and everything is a game. Forgive me for saying so, but you are either quite confident you will win out in the end based on some information I'm not privy to, or you're a complete fool and you haven't the faintest clue just how dire the situation truly is."

Abruptly the Fifth Prince's soft footfalls ceased, prompting Faeryl to glance back in curiosity and alarm; though the tunnel they were currently traversing wasn't close on all sides Clariburnus seemed to fill it, so physically imposing was his figure. Faeryl thought she could see just why he had been appointed Supreme Commander of the Army of Shade, based on nothing but his physical appearance – he was tall and resilient, and though she had never glimpsed him without his armor she could guess easily enough that he kept himself in the very peak of physical health. They had crossed blades only briefly in the tunnels just beyond the Darklake and Faeryl would never admit as much aloud, but she had been terrified of him then.

"I know the severity of the situation better than anyone," Clariburnus told her, and Faeryl found herself completely taken aback by the sudden change in his tone – hollow and morose, the polar opposite of his almost boisterous attitude only moments ago. "At the High Prince's order I led these people here – men I have trained since their Determining Day, some of whom I have battled alongside for hundreds of years. I led them across the surface world and into the dark, through these hellish tunnels with danger lurking at every turn, through the streets of Menzoberranzan and into the compounds of some of the strongest drow houses ever spoken of in the annals of your history books. I looked them in the eyes each time we mustered and spoke to them words of glory, knowing that they might die at any moment… knowing that my voice might be the last thing they ever heard. Do not think that just because I choose to hide behind a carefully constructed façade of confidence and levity that I am not fully aware of the consequences of my own actions every second – I have known from the start that I was leading them down here, possibly to die."

"Yet here you are now, wandering through unfamiliar territory with someone who can hardly be called your ally, prepared to throw their sacrifices away simply because you cannot stand by and wait as you were ordered to do," Faeryl pointed out.

Clariburnus's eyes flashed dangerously at that, but he did not act or even speak in anger; his voice was just as lifeless as it had been before, and Faeryl found herself quietly wishing for the return of his ill-timed jests. "Because it falls to me now to secure a solution, no matter how perilous a situation that search might land me in – how else can I ensure that their sacrifices weren't for nothing?"

He gestured for her to lead on then, and Faeryl knew instinctively that the topic was no longer open for discussion.

They didn't speak from that point on, which was just as well – every step they took brought them nearer to Menzoberranzan, and they both knew well enough just how silent a drow scouting party could be. Faeryl signaled to Clariburnus when they reached the outskirts of the city; though Clariburnus had spent hours learning the tunnels in the near vicinity before leading his first attack, he couldn't say he recognized his surroundings at all. He found himself grateful for Faeryl's reluctant help, despite the fact that he knew he couldn't trust her.

When they had located a secure enough place to hide, Faeryl sidled closer to where Clariburnus crouched and addressed him in a low whisper. "I am not sure what you wish to accomplish, but the corridor crossing in front of us is one commonly used for securing the perimeter of the city."

Clariburnus's keen silver eyes were piercing through the gloom, scouring the darkness for any signs of life. "And how often do the scouting parties make their rounds?"

Faeryl was shaking her head slowly. "Having never been a part of the patrols myself, I couldn't say. Scouting parties are traditionally made up of a house's male members with military backgrounds – the High Priestesses consider themselves above such menial tasks."

"Then I suppose we shall have to wait," Clariburnus replied, and settling down with his back against the stone wall he fixed the girl with an expectant gaze. "I will watch the eastern entrance, you will watch the west, and in the meantime you will tell me something about yourself."

Faeryl balked at this, her jade eyes growing wide. "Why in the world would I want to tell you anything about myself? We are not friends. We are not even allies. You made me a promise, and I am cooperating with you in the highly unlikely event that you actually uphold that promise. I see no reason why we should waste our time on such niceties. There's no need to stand on ceremony – this partnership of ours is a means to an end."

Clariburnus laid a hand upon his breast as though wounded, his eyes alive with mischief. "Oh, I'm hurt! Very well then, I will go first." He squinted down at the stone underfoot for a moment; Faeryl watched this peculiar behavior cautiously, certain he was acting strangely in an attempt to lure her into a false sense of security, but shortly after his eyes snapped back up to meet hers. "I once wrestled a were-owlbear for sport."

Faeryl glared back at him, fully intending not to engage him in conversation that was not directly related to the task he had set her, but the Fifth Prince's eyes were so alive with kindness and amusement that he wordlessly convinced her into playing along. Heaving an over-exaggerated sigh the dark elf girl drew her legs up to her chest and wound her arms around them, and balancing her chin upon one knee she kept her eyes fixed carefully upon the western end of the corridor and responded, "I once rode a unicorn."

"I once bedded a pair of sirens," Clariburnus fired back immediately, shooting a suggestive wink her way. "At once."

Faeryl rolled her eyes yet again, hardly impressed. "I once rescued a pixie. Its wing had been partially torn off by a faerie dragon… I nursed it back to health and tamed it. It was my companion, for a while."

Clariburnus's jaw dropped rather comically at that. "That is quite impressive actually – pixies are fickle creatures! But I'm not ready to admit defeat just yet." The Fifth Prince made quite a show of thinking hard – Faeryl had to choke back a gale of laughter at the sight of the hulking brute of a shade in his hefty black glass armor with his brow furrowed in concentration – before at last he said, "I once snuck into the lair of a lamia on a dare from my brother Lamorak. I was quite young… barely an adolescent."

"You lie," Faeryl spat, perking up in interest despite herself. "It would have killed you! Such creatures are fiercely territorial."

"They are indeed," Clariburnus agreed, snickering into the back of his hand at the memory. "I was quite fortunate to find this one sleeping… I shudder to think what may have happened to me had it been awake. It would have been a difficult battle, to be sure – it was before I had turned to the shadow."

Faeryl found that she had become reluctantly enraptured by the Fifth Prince's tale and leaned closer with interest, but out of the corner of her eye she perceived movement down the end of the tunnel she had been tasked with surveying; she laid her index finger upon her lips to indicate that the story would have to wait, then gestured to the corridor beyond the stone alcove where they crouched waiting. Clariburnus's expression became one of intense focus and he leaned forward, and together they watched as first one dark figure, then several more, flitted around the corner with the speed and stealth that only dark elves possessed. Though Clariburnus could see quite well in darkness on account of the shadow he possessed he did not boast Faeryl's advantage of glimpsing things in the heat spectrum, and glancing sidelong at her the Fifth Prince witnessed the moment her jade eyes took on a red tint as her vision shifted to better gauge the situation.

She raised her hands and walked them through a series of dexterous and complex patterns; Clariburnus stared back at her blankly, aware that she was likely trying to communicate with him using the intricate drow sign language but oblivious as to what she could possibly be trying to convey. In response to his vacant expression Faeryl rolled her eyes yet again and held up all ten of her fingers, then pointed toward their quarry. This Clariburnus took to mean that she had counted their numbers – a smaller scouting party than he had anticipated, but this was good news. Smaller numbers could be overpowered easier. With this in mind Clariburnus reached over his shoulder and grasped the handle of his glaive with a grave expression, preparing to bring it to bear and strike them all down.

Faeryl hissed and seized him by the arm with both of her hands, tugging with all her might in an attempt to stay his weapon arm; Clariburnus glanced down at her in alarm and instinctively ripped his arm out of her grasp, but the look in her eyes gave him pause. She was shaking her head vigorously from side to side and her expression was one of near-panic, and though his eyes darted over her head to track the movement of the passing scouting party more than once he allowed them to traverse the tunnel uncontested in the end. The moment their footfalls could no longer be heard Faeryl slumped back down against the stone looking relieved, and Clariburnus engaged her in a harsh undertone at once.

"That was our opportunity!" he hissed, incensed. "Shar only knows when we will get another!"

"And what would you have done?" Faeryl fired back in an infuriated whisper. "Slain the entire scouting party – and then what? Have you determined a way into the city? What would you have done with their corpses – left them here for the next passing group to find? What if one of them slipped off in the commotion and reported the incident? If you are going to do this, you cannot go about it rashly – you must consider every possible angle before you act! One mistake is all it will take to implicate your involvement, and then House Baenre will execute its prisoners without a second thought! You will get another opportunity, but only if you are patient and smart!"

Clariburnus blinked rapidly, taken aback by the drow's candor. As a Prince of Shade he was naturally accustomed to others addressing him with a certain measure of respect – several of his brothers might have been offended by Faeryl's stern reply, and one or two might even have felt compelled to punish her for what they would consider insolence, but in that moment he was nothing but grateful. Faeryl's quick-thinking had saved him from making a mess of the situation, and likely saved Soleil and Aveil's lives as well.

"You are right," the Fifth Prince replied at length, and he turned back to the corridor from which the scouting party had emerged not long ago. "I commend your diligence. Let us stay a while longer and observe – no more. Then we will return to the Darklake and report our findings to my brothers, and determine together how best to proceed."

Faeryl watched, mystified, as Clariburnus settled in to wait; she had fully expected him to reprimand her for speaking her mind and wondered for the first time if she had misjudged him entirely. She adjusted to a more comfortable position and trained her eyes on the corridor beyond their hiding place, and after a few beats of silence she muttered, "Finish telling me of this lamia, then."

Clariburnus smirked, and the glimmer of mischief returned to his eyes. "Well, since you asked…"

They lingered in the tunnels on Menzoberranzan's easternmost boundary for far longer than Clariburnus had meant to be away, but he considered it a successful first reconnaissance mission. In the end they watched four scouting parties come and go, and from those small groups they'd gleaned much: their numbers were always at exactly ten, all male, and all armed with melee weapons. After the third scouting party had gone by Clariburnus made a point to ask Faeryl about the lack of sorcerers participating in the rounds, and she'd given him a useful piece of information - that in the hierarchy of Menzoberranzan spellcasters ranked higher than the militia, and as such the wizards of the magic tower Sorcere were generally exempt from scouting duty unless some abnormal circumstance arose. Not that he was ill-equipped to eliminate any sorcerers that stood in his way – quite the opposite – but this did make matters simpler and left him feeling quite confident about his chances to sneak in. They debated the timing of the scouting parties as they made their way back to the Darklake cavern – Clariburnus estimated they made the rounds every forty five minutes, but Faeryl hotly protested that it was closer to an hour.

Ultimately the pair were in high spirits when they arrived back at camp, but the moment Clariburnus saw Escanor's stern face his mood deflated in a matter of moments.

"Faeryl," the Fifth Prince snarled in an undertone, slowing his tread ever so subtly. "Get behind me."

He glanced sidelong at the drow girl, whose eyes had gone wide with apprehension at the sight of the unwelcoming reception awaiting them, and instantly shifted so that she was no longer walking beside him, but partly concealed a pace or two behind him. Escanor's eyes narrowed as they completed their approach, but apart from the iciness in their depths his face was completely unreadable.

"So," Escanor greeted monotonously. "You've returned."

"Yes." Clariburnus paused a respectful distance from his eldest brother; Faeryl mirrored him, still as a deer poised to flee from a predator. "And I assume Yder has brought you up to speed as to my whereabouts?" Yder was nowhere to be seen, nor was Rapha; the Fifth Prince assumed they were either waiting in the cave to give the brothers an opportunity to speak privately, or one of them was out on patrol while the other slept.

Escanor nodded solemnly. "Have you any findings to report?"

Clariburnus relayed his observations from the past several hours, making his report as detailed as possible, as all the while Faeryl lingered silent and unmoving and close as a shadow; Escanor's eyes flitted in her direction once or twice during Clariburnus's recounting, but there was not a hint of emotion in his glances. At the conclusion of Clariburnus's report Escanor remained quiet, mulling his reply over carefully before he responded.

"You knowingly and deliberately disobeyed the High Prince," Escanor said at last, and for a horrible moment the kind and empathetic visage of his dear eldest brother was gone – this was the First Prince of Thultanthar standing before Clariburnus, High Prince Telamont's immediate successor. "Do you deny it?"

Surely his words were meant to leave Clariburnus feeling regretful, but they had the opposite effect – the Fifth Prince squared his shoulders in the face of his brother's disapproval and said, "No – and I would do it again."

Escanor's eyes flashed and suddenly he was on the verge of a barely-sublimated tirade. "You – "

"Here is the situation as I see it," Clariburnus overrode him hastily. He knew he had only one chance to stand his ground and aptly convey his feelings before Escanor lost his temper completely. "The High Prince is unwilling to sacrifice forty nobles from the Upper Court, for good reason – such a loss would be devastating to Thultanthar. You are unwilling to let Soleil go without a fight, which I understand better than most of our brothers would because you and I are possessed of the very same empathy. No matter what decision the High Prince makes now, lives will inevitably be lost. There is only one solution left."

The First Prince's teeth were clenched so tightly that his words were nearly indistinguishable. "And that is?"

"The Baenres gave us one month to consider their terms," Clariburnus reminded. "I say we use that time to formulate an alternate plan and set it in motion. We scout the tunnels outside Menzoberranzan, we memorize their troop movements, we pinpoint the weak chinks in their defenses and we exploit them. We secure for ourselves the safest and most secretive route into the city, determine a way to sneak into House Baenre undetected, and smuggle Soleil and Aveil out before the month is over."

By now Yder had emerged from the cave and was wending his way up the jagged shoreline toward them, his eyes weary with sleep but his steps purposeful, as almost simultaneously Rapha slipped back into the Darklake cavern on conclusion of his rounds. Escanor's face was as grave as ever, but there was an unquenchable light shining in the depths of his eyes that Clariburnus thought he recognized as the barest flicker of hope reigniting. Yder and Rapha had just joined them when Escanor replied, "House Baenre will not hesitate to retaliate. The moment they discover their prisoners have escaped, they will march on Thultanthar with the wrath of their goddess behind them. There will be no salvaging the peace treaty they have proposed."

Clariburnus had already considered that, but had thought up a contingency plan on the journey back to the Darklake. "Then to the Nine Hells with their treaty," he hissed dangerously, and in response to the shocked expression on his eldest brother's face the Fifth Prince grinned in a most malicious fashion – a grin that Yder and Rapha shared right away, he was pleased to note. "Allow me to recall the Army of Shade – you know that they are camped on the surface awaiting further orders. Give me the word and I will summon them to our sides. They can be here in as little as four days. The moment we have ensured Soleil's and Aveil's safety, we muster the full might of our forces and lead them back into Menzoberranzan before the drow are any wiser. We will hold every advantage – including the element of surprise."

"The Most High will rain his wrath down upon us all," Escanor pointed out gravely, but there was a hint of the same reckless smile curling up the corners of his lips now and Clariburnus was certain he had won.

"The Most High will not know what we have done until we are marching victoriously home," the Fifth Prince corrected.

"There is much still to consider," Yder inserted, trying to be reasonable, "but the plan has merit, there's no denying that."

"We must regain the upper hand in this," sneered Rapha with a manic chuckle. "The Princes of Shade are inferior to no one – now it is our duty to remind the drow of that fact."

Escanor closed the distance between himself and Clariburnus, and raising one hand he clapped his brother companionably upon the shoulder; behind him, Faeryl took her first real breath in what felt like half an hour or more. "This plan is yours, brother, so it is your responsibility now to see it through. You are the Supreme Commander of the Army of Shade – we will trust to your judgment in this. I will give you three weeks… if in that time you have determined a way to rescue Soleil and Aveil, we will send for the Army of Shade. Once they have joined us, we will strike. If, however, in three weeks you have not made sufficient progress we will have no choice but to await the High Prince's decision, whatever that may be."

Clariburnus nodded, his chest swelling with pride. "I understand. I will not let you down, brother. I swear on the shadow that sustains me, I will bring Soleil home to you."

The tempered smile on Escanor's face darkened into a steely glare as he turned his words upon Faeryl; the tension in her face suggested that she was quite nervous to find herself the focus of his attention, but she did not back down. "I will not pretend that I understand why Clariburnus has insisted on keeping you alive – he is a better man than I, of that I am certain – but I will trust his judgment for now. I feel obligated to tell you that we three – " he indicated himself, Yder and Rapha, " – will be watching you very closely in the days to come, and we will not hesitate to do away with you the moment we feel you have become a threat to us in any way. That being said… if your involvement in this plan results in the safe return of my wife and the Sceptrana, I will honor any promises Clariburnus has made you. Am I in any way unclear?"

Faeryl vigorously shook her head. "No… and… I thank you."

"Just serve Clariburnus to the best of your ability for now," Escanor bade her, then he turned back to the Fifth Prince, adding, "You should have been abed hours ago. I can only trust your judgment on so delicate a matter if you are rested. Go now, and take the girl with you. When you have slept, we will prepare."

"Gladly," agreed Clariburnus, for abruptly he was exhausted, and motioning for Faeryl to follow along he set off down the shoreline toward the cave, feeling for the very first time as though the tables had turned in their favor at long last.