Chapter 25: Visitor
Breakfast had gone smoother than he had anticipated, though his daughter had spent most of the meal picking at her food in sullen silence. He'd tried to question her about her pet, and had gotten a very detailed account of the sacrifice down to the quantity and color of the blood that had sprayed the altar. Kesrith's face had been gleeful then as she forked her eggs into her mouth. But the joy did not reach her eyes. No matter how she behaved now, it was obvious that she had been attached to the bird.
Being born male in Menzoberranzan had been hellish. At many times in his youth, he had wished to be born female and not an accursed male. Now, as he watched his daughter, he could only think that it was probably a good thing that he had never been required to take part in the dark rituals that women were. Perhaps his boyhood had been a blessing in disguise.
In her first communion with the Spider Queen, the priestesses had forced her to kill her pet. Had stolen her innocence in forcing such an act on her. He'd known of such rituals, of course, but having it described to him by a child was disturbing.
Jarlaxle felt a cramp in his jaw as he realized he was gritting his teeth in anger. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, willing himself to relax. There was nothing he could do about what she had endured in the past. Save summoning Kimmuriel to destroy her memories, she was what she was. But she was young. Children were malleable and open to change. He'd just have to figure out what avenues would allow this change in her.
And of course, the psion could always be used as a last resort.
After finishing her food she had put her little elbows up on the gleaming wooden table, supporting her pouting face that stared down at her half-finished meal.
Exasperated, he stood.
"You can go to the garden to play. One of my soldiers will lead you out."
She looked like she was going to throw a tantrum for a moment, and Jarlaxle braced himself for it. But at the last moment, the rage faded and was replaced by a sly smile.
"The garden, then."
Her tone of voice left no doubt that she would try to get up to something again. He gestured at his man at the door, giving him several hand signals to instruct him to keep his child under a watchful eye.
The magical wards would tell him if she tried to leave again.
Sighing, Jarlaxle made his way into the corridor, passing several of the mercenaries who saluted him silently.
She was a brat for sure, and the priesthood had done their damnedest to spoil the goodness that she was capable of. The expression on her face when she had watched the birds outside her window had shown that side of her, something that the priestesses of Lolth were no doubt eager to destroy.
But Jarlaxle would not allow that. No matter what, he would nurture that spark within this child of his until it was strong enough to defeat any brainwashing that those fanatics aimed at her.
He stood and turned to the shelves behind him. Tracing his fingers over the books, he finally found the volume he was looking for. He pulled it down carefully. It was several centuries old at this point and he had neglected to have preservation spells cast on it.
A Compendium of Faerunian Wildlife, by Kerolphus Thralia.
His fingers traced over the gold leaf lettering, then he opened the book, inhaling its musty scent.
It was a lavishly illustrated book, one that he had read over and over before he had become so familiar with the surface. He smiled to himself as he remembered that back then, even something as mundane as a common donkey had seemed wild and exotic to him at the time. Now he had seen many of these creatures with his own eyes, and they were greater than anything a drawing could show him.
He turned to the section on birds. Kesrith had described her Jewel in detail to him and he thought he had seen a bird similar to that one before. Something from the tropical south no doubt, with feathers that bright.
Flipping past pigeons and sparrows he found the more exotic birds. Indeed, a bird fitting the description was there. A type of parakeet from the jungles of Chult. He vaguely recalled seeing one like it.
It should be fairly simple to acquire one.
He would need to order a cage, of course. And find out what such a creature ate...
His thoughts stopped as he remembered Kesrith describing how she had dismembered the living bird in accordance to the instructions of the priestesses.
He sighed. Giving her another vulnerable animal might not be the best decision.
No, he thought. Not a bird. At least not yet.
An inkling of an idea crossed his mind, but it was interrupted by the tapping at the door.
"Who is it?"
"Entreri, sir," said one of his men. "He's brought another guest. A daarthir." The mercenary practically spat the last word.
Jarlaxle's face screwed up in confusion. Would he be bringing Dahlia here? But according to his last reports she was days away from Luskan still.
"Bring them in."
His man answered in affirmative then the door opened. Entreri walked in, followed by a handsome young elven man. Entreri has his usual droll expression as he laid his eyes on Jarlaxle, while the boy dotted around the room anxiously. The boy finally focused on him and gaped at him as if he was a viper ready to strike.
Jarlaxle was not usually surprised but he was now. He opened his hand in a universal gesture for them to have a seat, then steepled his fingers as he leaned forward.
"Entreri, who is your guest? And to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Entreri's eyes landed on the elf next to him as the boy leaned back as far away as his could from Jarlaxle without falling out of his chair.
Jarlaxle rolled his eyes. Some people had that reaction when they saw a drow no matter how well dressed. But it'd been a long time since someone had been this dramatic. The people around Luskan had grown used to the drow, but he had to remind himself at times that not all the surface people were so accepting. There were still those who considered his kind as nothing more than monsters, not much better than bloodthirsty orcs raping and pillaging some peasant village.
He smiled widely at the boy, trying to make himself seem less threatening, but that only made the elf's forest green eyes bug out in horror.
Alright, no smiling then.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
"Ah-" started the lad, but he seemed to be unable to continue.
Shaking his head, Entreri butt in. "That's Phaendar. He's here because he has a message from his clan. I'm here to to get an update on Dahlia."
Well, no one could ever accuse the assassin of being anything other than to the point.
"Show him your scroll," said Entreri to the lad.
The boy pulled a small rolled parchment from his pocket and handed it to Jarlaxle with a shaking hand. As soon as Jarlaxle's fingers closed around it, the boy jerked his hand back as if he had a plague.
Trying not to seem irritated, Jarlaxle leaned back and unrolled the tiny message. Inside were neat and compact elven runes.
We agreed that while the City of Sails was welcome to allow the drow to engage in commerce, the forest belonged to the People. One day, perhaps, we will welcome our dark cousins to meet with our clans, but that day lies far in the future when your people throw aside their wicked faith and repent in the Light of Corellon Larethian. I look forward to that day. However, as I doubt there are many willing converts to our Creator among your number, I would ask, Jarlaxle, why there are drow in the wood? While I hold you in high esteem, and always look forward to our meetings, I will not tolerate you going back on your word. Recall these people if they are yours. If they are not, then I would ask for a meeting to discuss how we may repair this setback in relations between our peoples.
-Lord Tyraeus Oneiros, of the Black River Clan
Jarlaxle read the message one more time, inspecting it for any sort of hidden code that might reveal more information. When he didn't find any, he set his eyes on the elf in front of him. Phaendar was leaning towards Entreri, looking up at him like some desperate damsel pleading with a hero to save her from a lusty dragon. Entreri, in turn, had his glove hand set on the boy's shoulder, in an almost possessive way. A flutter of jealousy rippled through him. This was not like Entreri.
"I have held my end of the bargain with your leader. You can tell him that the drow in the woods are not mine, and that I would be eager to meet with him to see what can be done about these intruders."
Phaendar snapped his head back to the mercenary leader. "Oh, uh... I will tell him that."
"Now tell me about Dahlia," said Entreri, switching to the drow tongue.
Artemis was scowling and no longer had his hand on Phaendar.
"She is not here yet, of course. We've located her around thirty miles outside Neverwinter. She'll probably be here within a week."
Phaendar looked curiously between the two of them, but Jarlaxle decided to ignore him. The lad could go right back to his little clan where he belonged.
"And Kimmuriel? I thought you said you had a plan to fix her."
Jarlaxle believed that there was no fixing Dahlia, short of some god descending from the heavens and snapping their fingers, but he thought it unwise to voice this opinion.
"He is on his way but has business with the Hive."
"We wouldn't want to part him too soon from his tentacles, now would we?" Entreri's voice was bitter, and he avoided meeting Jarlaxle's gaze.
"Though I doubt his predilection for the mindflayers is as sordid as you might imagine, he has his reasons for communing with them."
"Like what?" Entreri snapped.
"Like finding the key to unbreak the mind of a mad elf."
Entreri sobered at that. A small hope lit in his eyes and Jarlaxle hated to see it. Not only would his friend be disappointed in the end, but he knew Dahlia would never live in Luskan among the drow.
"Can he do it, you think? Can he really heal her mind this time?"
Lolth's tits. He wanted him to reassure him that she would be all better again. Ready to go and be his sweetheart so they could ride off to gods know where.
Jarlaxle ran his hand over his bald scalp. He wanted to reassure him, of course. But this was a thing that might not even be possible, no matter how hard he tried. He also knew himself well enough that his doubt over whether she could be saved wasn't the only reason for his reluctance. As soon as his lover was repaired, Entreri would leave.
And he might not ever come back.
An awkward silence stretched out for what seemed like eternity but couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
"Do you want my honest opinion?"
The assassin's jaw hardened but he nodded. This time his eyes were set on the drow and Jarlaxle felt his skin heat at the intensity.
"Yes," Entreri gritted out.
Jarlaxle leaned over the desk, his face closer to the assassin's and met his gaze.
"I do not think that there are enough psionicists or mindflayers in the world to save her mind. It is fundamentally broken. Something happened to this woman that made her that way. It would be a mercy to erase her mind completely."
Entreri slammed his fist on the table, making Phaendar jump nearly out of his seat.
"Damn you!"
Entreri rose and headed for the door. "Come Phaendar, we are done here."
"I would urge you to think about what I am saying, my friend."
"I am done. Call on me when Kimmuriel arrives."
Jarlaxle stood and hurried down the hall after the assassin. Before Artemis reached the door to outside he grabbed his hand.
Phaendar took this as a cue that he needed protection from the drow and put his arm around the assassin. No the boy was not just a damsel in distress. He looked at Artemis with adoration.
With love.
So that's how it was.
Entreri turned, glanced at Phaendar then met the drow's eyes.
His look was almost a challenge. As if he were daring Jarlaxle to say something about Phaendar.
"What?" asked the assassin.
"While I would not dream of interfering with your personal life," he gave the elf a knowing look. "I think that you should consider my words. Perhaps you should consider what might happen if we cannot repair her mind. Or what might happen if Kimmuriel's treatment is only temporary."
Entreri darkened and opened his mouth to speak.
Jarlaxle held out a finger to stop him.
"Let me say my peace and you may go."
Unlike his usual manner he found it hard to meet the other man's eyes. Jarlaxle examined his nails and continued.
"While you are a capable fighter - one of the best in this plane of existence no doubt - you are not invincible, my friend. One day Dahlia will kill you, even if she catches you in your sleep. I simply do not wish for that to be your fate."
Entreri stared at him for a long moment, then toyed with piece of the elf's golden brown hair.
Then he turned and exited, slamming the door behind him.