Catti-brie could hardly believe that they made it this far. Breaking Drizzt out of one of the most heavily guarded and imposing fortresses in Menzoberranzan was no simple task, even with the help of a wizard.
They had guarded Drizzt as if he was more valuable to House Baenres than pure mithral. And in many eyes of his kin, he was. He was the renegade, the traitor whose heart was going to the spider queen in a very important ceremony that Matron Baenres had painstakingly put together.
Rarely had so many of Menzoberranzan's mighty houses been united under this one cause and rarer still had so many matrons and priestesses been under the same roof. They had joined Baenres under the dome chapel, one of the most sacred shrines to Lolth in the city, to conduct the ritual and receive Lolth's blessings on their quest to conquer Mithral Hall.
The highlight of their ritual would have been Drizzt's still beating heart carved from his chest and given to the spider queen, along with the heart of the unfortunate elf who had been caught alongside him.
But Catti-brie had so unscrupulously stolen their valued prize right out from under them and the ensuing battle to escape had cost Baenres more than a dozen soldiers, including two of the Baenres nobles, Dantrag and Vendes.
Together with Entreri and K'ylor, Catti-brie had found Drizzt in the dungeon, beaten and tormented, and had been surprised to find the elf Legolas down there as well. Drizzt had been astonished to see them. He had expected to die in this place, in the misery that he was in.
But the group fought their way out of the city once and for all. Drizzt had been more than eager to kill Vendes, his tormentor during these long days, and he and Dantrag's fierce battle in the tunnels outside the compound had cost the weapons master his life, as well as his strange and powerful sword and his bracers.
Now, deep in the Underdark, after being sure that Baenres soldiers weren't in pursuit, they could finally catch their breath. And enjoy their reunion.
Catti-brie was quick to turn around and embrace Drizzt, squeezing him tight as the drow relished in his freedom.
"Please spare us before I become ill," Entreri growled, rolling his eyes. Catti-brie glared at him. She knew they couldn't have escaped without the assassin, but she had to resist the urge to slap him hard across the head for all the hardships he had given them since they had first met. For the first time Entreri had put that cursed jeweled dagger to her throat, for torturing Regis and for his obsession with Drizzt.
"He gave his word that he won't trouble us again once we part ways," Catti-brie explained to Drizzt who narrowed his eyes at the assassin. "And I gave me word."
Drizzt turned his attention to their newest companion. Ky'lor had aided in their escape. He had proven to be a very capable young wizard student, no doubt a credit to his upbringing and to his training at the academy. But as Drizzt regarded the young drow now, it was as if he could see himself as he was the day he departed from Menzoberranzan 30 years ago. In fact, Ky'lor was about the same age Drizzt was when he first stepped out of the Underdark to live on the surface world.
"There's something about his identity ye should know," Catti-brie began as he noticed Drizzt's attention on the drow. Catti-brie hadn't had the chance to introduce the young wizard yet as they had to focus on escape. But now that Menzoberranzan was behind them and they had already traversed the Underdark for several days, it was time to drop this bombshell. "He claims he is a son of Zaknafein."
Drizzt's eyes widened as he stepped forward. Ky'lor turned to regard him, his expression defensive. "What…" Drizzt murmured. He wasn't sure how to react. A mix of emotions flooded him. He wasn't sure if he could believe this.
"It is true," came a voice from up ahead. Drizzt looked up and saw the eccentric mercenary leaning against a rock as he peered down at them from a high ledge.
Drizzt regarded Jarlaxle with suspicion and as he stepped forward, the mercenary only shrugged.
"Well met! I knew you would escape Baenres' clutches," Jarlaxle complimented. "But what a show! To witness Drizzt Do'Urden at his mightiest was surely a spectacular sight for all who witnessed it. And the battle with the witless Dantrag was the highlight of the entire experience."
"Have you been sent to capture us, then?" Drizzt asked cautiously. "Surely Matron Baenres is aware of our escape by now."
"Baenres has more on her mind right now," Jarlaxle replied. "The alliance she had forged with the other houses was precarious. And you caused more destruction, especially to her precious chapel. It will take her quite some time to recover."
Drizzt couldn't help but feel relieved at hearing that. He had assumed that Baenres would have sent troops after them, but for now, it appeared their path back to Mithral Hall was clear.
"Be glad for the reprieve," Jarlaxle continued. "For Baenres still aims to conquer Mithral Hall, but you have time. Enough time for your new task."
Drizzt cocked his head, puzzled. "My task?" he questioned. In response, Jarlaxle reached into his colorful cape and pulled out a small jewel and threw it down to Ky'lor. The young drow shot forward and caught it, gazing at it as Drizzt tried to get a look at it.
It was a clear crystal gem, its heat glowing in the purple light of Drizzt's infrared vision.
"On the day your father brought me to you," Jarlaxle explained, addressing Ky'lor only now, "He gave me this gem. Its magic is said to glow with Zaknafein's own life force. It heats in the presence of him or any of his blood. I believe he had hoped you would use it to find your brother, but now it has a greater purpose."
Drizzt could see the gem glowing with heat in Ky'lor's hand, and as he took a few steps to stand beside the other drow, the gem became even more luminous, clearly reacting to his presence. Drizzt felt a lump in his throat as he realized the truth that this stone was telling them both. Zaknafein's blood was clearly flowing through both of them.
Drizzt felt so overcome with emotion that he didn't have the voice to speak as he stood in the presence of his only living relative (that he knew of). His brother, his kin. He swallowed hard, trying to force the lump that formed in his throat away.
But Ky'lor only gazed up at Jarlaxle, his large blue-gold eyes looking over the mercenary. "You are the only one I will ever call father," he proclaimed defiantly. His proclamation stung Drizzt.
"And I consider you my son," Jarlaxle agreed. "I have taught you everything I know, and I have kept you safe for as long as I have been able. But understand, this is where we part."
Ky'lor shook his head. "You have no reason to stay behind here," he protested, pulling away from Drizzt as he addressed Jarlaxle.
"Menzoberranzan has been my home," Jarlaxle replied. "For all its deficiencies, I enjoy this city and it's intrigue. And my efforts can be best utilized by keeping Baenres from Mithral Hall for as long as I can. The Bregan D'aerthe has made itself quite valuable and with my worth, I have been able to sow seeds of tension between the houses that keep them continuously suspicious of one another, rather than united against any external force. But understand that I cannot hold them at bay forever and you must complete this next task alone."
"What is this task?" Drizzt asked, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. "You have kept it vague."
"You must journey south," Jarlaxle explained. "To the Forest of Mir. There, you will find the elf king taken from a faraway land."
At this declaration, Legolas stepped forward. The elf had remained silent until now, no doubt confused and out of his element by all of this. But he tuned back in at the mention of the elf king.
"My father," he questioned, standing beside Drizzt. The drow had become close friends with Legolas during their time of torment, and he had already resigned himself to help him find his father, though he had hoped with all his heart that he was not being held captive in Menzoberranzan.
But Jarlaxle's nod was a profound relief to Drizzt. "Yes, there is a community of drow from the southern lands, their origins are something you will come to learn of on your own. But word has it they have discovered a vast faraway land to the east," Jarlaxle explained. "A land so much like our own. These drow are not aligned with Lolth or with Menzoberranzan. They have taken the elf king as their prize but, Drizzt, Ky'lor, you must also know that they have another prize."
Drizzt narrowed his eyes, curious but feeling a need to brace himself for the bombshell he realized was coming.
"Imagine how bright that jewel will glow when the one whose life force is bound to it is reunited with his sons."
"These drow have Zaknafein!" Drizzt exclaimed angrily. And Jarlaxle's nod was all the confirmation he needed.
"Farewell, sons of Zaknafein," Jarlaxle said. "You will have a limited amount of time to race to the Forest of Mir, many thousands of miles from here, and return before Baenres marches on Mithral Hall. I have faith in both of you and I will look forward to seeing my dear friend once again."
Something struck Drizzt's heartstrings then, at the mercenary speaking so fondly of a friendship with his father. Drizzt never knew that Zaknafein and Jarlaxle were friends, but understanding that Jarlaxle had more honor- questionable though his morals may be- than the typical resident of Menzoberranzan made the ranger feel connected to the mercenary somehow. He had no doubt that Zaknafein would befriend someone like him and seeing how tenderly he looked at Ky'lor, and even at Drizzt himself, Drizzt felt as though the mercenary was his kin as well. Connected through Zaknafein.
When Drizzt looked up at the ledge again, the eccentric mercenary whom the drow was beginning to accept as an uncle of sorts was gone.
The journey back to Mithral Hall was quiet as the weight of Jarlaxle's words and everything they had all been through sank into every single member of this wayward band of friends.