Chapter 12
Small talk
Winter held Irr'liancrea with a two-handed grip, raising the tip, and the crystal began to glow, hotter and brighter, so you averted your eyes. Crenshinibon too mirrored its move, and a weird keening sound reverberated around the room.
"Nav!" Jarlaxle grabbed Winter's hand. "A confrontation now would alert Reima here!"
"It already knows." Winter said casually. "And I prefer to take the fact that it has not yet moved against you as a token in its favor. How now, Crenshinibon? Would you answer my question?"
Jarlaxle sighed, sounding resigned, though he did not let go of Winter. "Crenshinibon believes that an alliance with his brother would be in order and of mutual benefit, since it does not know where Reima is now, and does not know Reima's intentions."
Who was this Reima?
"What it believes, or what you believe?" Winter challenged.
Jarlaxle grimaced.
"Hmph," Winter did, however, lower her sword tip to the ground. "Very well done, Jarlaxle. Usually Crenshinibon does not like a wielder with a will of his own."
"It took some persuading," Jarlaxle admitted.
The blue and red shards finally seemed to reach some conclusion – both of them dimned in intensity, and the mercenary leader seemed to breathe a little easier.
"Besides," Winter added mischievously, "You were not sure if it could defeat me in a single combat, considering the different ways the two shards use to get their energy. Crenshinibon is strongest in sunlight, but this is the Underdark, and Irr'liancrea's method is the superior. Working alone, I may be a threat, working against you, worse, working with you would seem the best, no?"
"There was also that," Jarlaxle said grudgingly, obviously seeing no gain in lies, at least not in this situation. Crenshinibon flared once, as if in fury, then steadied into a gentle pulse when Jarlaxle glanced at it. "It also believes that it is your shard's alur *..." Jarlaxle growled and winced as if at a hidden blow.
Brilliant blue light boiled forth from the sword for a moment, then became gentle again. All of you shook the spots out of your sensitive eyes.
"Why?" Jarlaxle asked, suspiciously, and you understood that the pain had probably come from Crenshinibon, displeasure at its wielder, and somehow, for some reason, Winter and Irr'liancrea had intervened and brought forth something almost like an apology.
"Irr'liancrea's will and mine are one," Winter said dryly, "Neither of us are 'alur' to the other. We are abbil and we are partners, and have been for more than a century. You, however, your relationship with your shard is unstable and new. The two of you do not trust each other, and although you need the shard's power and it needs a wielder, it does not like your spirit, and has been unable to break it."
Winter continued through Jarlaxle's unreadable expression, "Which is why you normally hide it, even from me when I came in as Velve, even though its presence could have forced an admission, because you would like to give the impression that you are alur, because you know that Crenshinibon would never accept a partner-relationship."
"You think you can manipulate the shard – you are wrong. It is helping you now because you keep it from other wielders, and because your ambition matches its own, and you have the resources and knowledge to give it what it wants. It wants power – power is what drives it, and through you it thinks that it can achieve as much of that as possible..."
Crenshinibon pulsed once, darkly, but then became neutral again.
"However, given a choice between destruction for saving you, or staying out of it and losing you, Crenshinibon would chose the first, while Irr'liancrea would choose to save me. That is the basic difference between them. 'My' shard wants power too, but there are...priorities. It takes that rule about protecting and caring for wielders more seriously."
"It does not mean that Crenshinibon cannot change, though it is unlikely that it will. Though this will interfere in my mission, Irr'liancrea and I would try to support a partner-based relationship between the both of you. At least you're suitable for a wielder," Winter sniffed. "Drizzt certainly was not."
"You have met him?" Jarlaxle seemed slightly dazed at the sudden surfeit of frankness from Winter, an abrupt change from her riddles, and apparently forgetting to ask about her 'mission'.
"Yes, and his father too."
You thought that Winter was purposefully keeping Jarlaxle as off balance as possible, and was succeeding rather well. Jarlaxle blinked at this, forgetting to ask about her purpose in this world in the first place.
"How..."
"Lovely fellow, though a little too quick to choose thinking with his swords than actually with his brain," Winter said airily. "Now, about Crenshinibon..."
Jarlaxle pondered, for a moment, about discussing 'Drizzt's father' over 'Crenshinibon', probably, because he hesitated.
Winter patted the hand on her arm patronizingly. "Do not worry about it. However, he was rather...surprised to realize you saved Drizzt's life. But he says it does not repay 'the debt'. Whatever it is."
"Does not repay?" Jarlaxle repeated in disbelief.
"He was preparing to go down after his son in any case. If you had not forced poor Rai'gy to cast the rituals on Drizzt, you may have had to deal with an enraged Zaknafein along with a sulking Entreri."
"Your Quar'valsharuk-ilharn has regained Lloth's favor," Jarlaxle said, dismissive about the cost to Rai'gy for using Lloth-rituals to benefit dobluth *, though his eyes narrowed slightly at Winter's words, and you could see him consider the bait, then take it with resignation. "So he is still alive then?"
"I would not say so," Winter smiled, riddles again, ignoring Jarlaxle's bait – that he knew of the relationship between herself and Rai'gy Bondalek.
Crenshinibon pulsed brighter, impatiently, drawing the two elves' attention. You guessed that the shard did, probably, possess some sort of alien intelligence – and was fully capable of speaking, though why it chose instead to speak only to its wielder in this case was beyond you. It did not, predictably, appear to approve of either Winter or Irr'liancrea, and was markedly showing its displeasure by the sharp, piercing light radiating from it.
Winter ignored it. "Now, as to Reima. I doubt that it resurfacing in Menzoberranzan was of such importance..."
"It would not...if the signs had not shown up always in a certain location in this city." Jarlaxle calmed somewhat, the hold on her arm lighter now, nearly like a caress, but Winter seemed not to notice. You considered warning her, then decided she probably knew. Even if she did not, she would find out.
"The Academy?" Winter hazarded, glanced at Jarlaxle, then mused, "No, not that. A place of power – not Gromph Baenre either? No, but close...House Baenre?"
Jarlaxle frowned at her, cold again. "Are you reading my mind?"
"No, your face." Winter said frankly, smiled at the disbelief on his features, then continued. "House Baenre. Well, well. Why am I not surprised?"
"Triel has inherited Baenre's tendency to ally herself with strange and unique personalities," Jarlaxle agreed. "But you understand the urgency?"
"No." Winter said placidly, then spoke again before Jarlaxle's eruption of fury. "It has been four years. Nothing has happened, and even if the sightings were to...continue they would be of little concern to myself. I am here as observer, and it would take something as important as a direct blow against me to make me interfere. I would think Reima is your problem. Its type normally do not care about 'good' leech-shards. And there is always the chance that it is, for some reason, watching Baenre."
"You are complacent," Jarlaxle accused coldly.
"Nav, kyone *." Winter corrected. "It may be here for Irr'liancrea...it might not. If it is not, I do not wish it to change its mind. Good luck, Jarlaxle." She made as if to turn away, brushing off his restraining hand with studied care.
"Where would you go?" he demanded, as you stood up and padded to her side.
"My act here has been exposed – time to fall back on another," Winter said frankly. "If you can find me, I will hide again. Baenre and Crenshinibon and Reima are none of my concern, do you understand? Or am I speaking in terms too difficult for you?"
"Winter..." Jarlaxle folded his arms casually. "Very well. What are your terms?"
"Terms?" Winter turned around with exaggerated curiosity.
"There is something you want," Jarlaxle remarked, calm again now that he thought he had the edge.
"Want?" Winter repeated, as if it was a word from an unknown tongue. "I want? What I want is to complete this silly mission and return to whence I came from. However, that goal may come all the swifter if Reime were to toss Crenshinibon to a safe planet. If it comes to me, so be it. I have no need for power-induced ties to Menzoberranzan, or the rest of this Fractured world – power is another word for responsibility which I do not want."
Jarlaxle clearly did not understand her – he rocked on his heels, an unattractively endearing gesture, if unconsciously done, for his anklets scratched noisily against each other.
"Rai'gy..." he began.
Winter's eyes narrowed, and gleamed unpleasantly, her grip on Irr'liancrea tightened. "Rai'gy can take care of himself," she finally said, shortly. "You need him. And you never kill or hurt someone or something unless there is truly a lot of gain in it. But hurt Rai'gy and you lose Kimmuriel's trust as well – and you condemn yourself forever in my eyes."
"...might wish to speak with you in his rooms," he finished, and smirked at her slight flush of embarrassment at jumping to conclusions.
"What does he want now?" Winter said, annoyed at her blatant slip.
Jarlaxle shrugged expressively, shoulders rolling. "Lloth zhaunil *."
"Perhaps she does," Winter said sourly. "You had better not have tried to get him to persuade me. It only serves to raise his blood pressure."
Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow, but Winter did not explain her last sentence. He gave up on the trivial matter, but spoke again when she turned her back on him and Crenshinibon and headed for the door. "Will you still continue as Velve?"
Winter turned back, and paused. "What for? Lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss *."
"It may be suspicious if you were to walk out of here with a pretty face," Jarlaxle teased. For some reason, his flippant mood had returned, even in the face of Winter's rejection of his request for aid, and her leaving Bregan D'aerthe.
Winter smiled, then traced a circle in the ground with Irr'liancrea's tip, around herself and yourself. "Asanque," she mockingly saluted Jarlaxle, who started for her, paused, then chuckled at some joke intensely amusing only to himself, and began to utter a string of words in the other language.
The scene blurred, a familiar feeling of disorientation buffeted your senses, and the two of you were elsewhere – a small room with three doors, carpet, one table, and four chairs – one of which contained Rai'gy.
He leaped up at her entry, astonished, then settled back down into the stone seat. "You met Jarlaxle." It had not a hint of a query in it.
Winter played with her ponytail, slender fingers teasing at the tips, sheathed Irr'liancrea which had turned back to its normal guise, and then took a seat – you sat down next to her on the carpet. "He knows."
"He would have found out eventually." Rai'gy seemed resigned to it.
"He said you wished to talk to me?"
"I never..." Rai'gy began, frowned, then sighed. "I never told him that. But yes, I did want to speak to you. About Reima."
"What about it?" Winter put her feet up on the table in a noisy clatter – Rai'gy was too nervous or apprehensive of this Reima to disapprove.
"Do you think it will kill Jarlaxle?"
"If Jarlaxle gets into his way." Winter said obliquely. "I will not help Crenshinibon. Something I did not add when I spoke to Jarlaxle was that I respect Irr'liancrea's decisions, and it does not want to help its brother. In fact, it would be overjoyed if its brother was to suddenly disintegrate and cease to exist."
"Will Reima destroy Bregan D'aerthe?"
"Without Jarlaxle Bregan D'aerthe loses half its actual strength," Winter smiled.
Rai'gy frowned.
"I do not understand why you are worried! Reima has not even shown signs of alliance to Baenre. It may not even be here for the shard at all..." Winter sighed. "But Irr'liancrea believes that this paranoid attitude is Crenshinibon's doing."
Rai'gy blinked.
"'Tis very easy to influence drow," Winter smiled, then paused. "Well, most drow. I can do it if you like. Would you like to bark like nigouar or think you can fly?"
He shook his head. "Winter, be serious. You will not help Jarlaxle?"
"No."
"Not for Bregan D'aerthe?"
"I admit I have grown fond of the band, but no. The risk is too great."
"Not for yourself?"
"Myself? I always have several routes open if Reima were to come against me. You need not worry..." Winter said playfully. Rai'gy glared at her. Worry for Winter was probably the least on his mind.
"Not for me?"
"You, my Quar'valsharuk-ilharn?" Winter grinned. "What for?"
"You owe me a favor."
"Repaying it this way would put you in my debt, zhuanth'abbil *."
"Asanque," Rai'gy said, too eagerly for your liking. And Winter's, too.
"I'd not babysit him," Winter warned. "I like Jarlaxle. But I will not stand over him all the time like a mother rothe over her calf. I will not step in if Reima decides to destroy Crenshinibon..."
"But if necessity dictates it you will protect Jarlaxle?" Rai'gy asked. "I care not about that damned shard. Bregan D'aerthe has functioned perfectly well without it, and will continue to do so even in its absence. If it survives this, well and good, but if it comes to an extreme circumstance where you have to make a choice...I will not be miserable if the shard were to, as you say, cease to exist."
"Why Jarlaxle? Without him you and Kimmuriel will hold Bregan D'aerthe." Winter pressed.
"Jarlaxle is currently all that holds Bregan D'aerthe together," Rai'gy said sharply, disliking the tone of the question. "He has great charisma, and the band is loyal to him – he and what he represents is synonymous with Bregan D'aerthe itself. If he dies – the band will fall apart. And I do not wish that. Nor Kimmuriel."
"Did Jarlaxle tell you to do this?" Winter asked suddenly.
"He would be insulted if he learned I was asking this of you," Rai'gy replied promptly, very assured of this fact.
"You are wrong," Winter said dryly. "I would think he would be intensely appreciative."
Rai'gy stared at her.
"You may find out later," she shrugged, but you knew she was referring to the way Jarlaxle looked at her now, among other incidents. "But I may have to go now. Velve is no more – I will watch him another way."
"Around Crenshinibon?"
"If I need to."
"Can you do it?"
"Ye of so little faith," Winter said mockingly. "Of course I can. And fine, I agree to help you...but!" she raised a finger, "With some conditions."
"Anything."
"Firstly, that you do not tell Jarlaxle of our arrangement." Winter leaned back in the chair, somehow managing to look comfortable in the thin cushions.
"Agreed."
"Secondly, I dictate my own actions, but you give me any information that I may request...pertaining only to this, of course."
"Very well..."
"Thirdly, I will not move against Reima. And keep in mind that if I have to choose Irr'liancrea's safety over Jarlaxle, I will."
"That I expected."
"Good." Winter uncurled gracefully and stood up.
"Where would you go?" Rai'gy echoed Jarlaxle's question unwittingly.
Winter smiled. "None of your concern, either."
She stood back and drew a circle around yourself and herself again, with Irr'liancrea, but you noted that this time, before everything outside the circle blurred away, she glanced up as if reflexively to the ceiling.
You there the only one to see her wink mischieviously, as if up at something – or someone – who had been watching, before the feeling of disorientation washed over you and everything smudged away.
**
What had she done that for?
"You saw? Ah, of course you did," Winter grinned, and sat down on the bed in the Olist El'lar. "I suppose you did not realize that I had not shielded the conversation?"
No...oh. Jarlaxle had been watching?
"Obviously. Did you think he would let us leave so suddenly for Rai'gy's? Now he will wonder if I had meant what I said, or had I some other hidden agenda, or did I do it just for the sake of annoying him in some subtle way. Let it give him a headache. Right now I need a bath, and sleep." Winter smiled, smugly, and began to select clothing – plain robes. She discarded her armor to her undershirt, and removed the sword scabbards and other weapons, concealed or otherwise, retaining only Irr'liancrea which had returned to its normal state. It glowed in fitful, annoyed bursts.
Did Jarlaxle know that we stayed here?
"It is possible. I did not shield this place – it has its own shields against scrying, laid down when it was built, but it would not withstand an artifact of Crenshinibon's calibre. I care not. If he did not know we are staying here, I would not want to alert him to it."
What would she do now?
"Bathe." Was all she said about it, and opened the door to step outside.
What if Jarlaxle was watching?
Winter paused, and shot you an amused glance. "Let him."
You blinked. Irr'liancrea went a blank gray, then returned to a hot blue. Winter snickered at the both of you, rested the blade on her shoulder and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
You curled up on the bed and rested your nose on your paws, breathing in the scent of carpets, starched sheets and fur, and thought about what Winter would do next now that she had relinquished the character Velve. So much for Shebali, in any case – would she change you back now? It would be a pity – you had been growing fond of this form.
And Jarlaxle had known about 'Velve' for four years – if what he claimed was true. That was something annoying about the mercenary – half of the things he said were lies and the other half were true – and it was a fine line between them. Make it an invisible line.
If he had known about the two of you for four years, then there would be some point in continuing – wouldn't it? He had not interfered in the four years. Maybe he would not now.
And rothe would fly.
Cutting off on this depressing tangent you closed your eyes and slowed your breathing – slowly you sank into Sleep's welcoming arms, warm and drowsy and deliciously safe, feeling exhausted by all that had happened, sleeping the sleep uninterrupted by dreams.
You were returned to bare consciousness when the door opened. Smelling a not unpleasant blend of Winter and soap and hot water, you made a contented sound...
Winter hissed. "You!"
You jerked awake, wishing you could rub sleep-fogged eyes, and looked around wildly – before your gaze alighted on the figure sitting casually on the stone desk in the corner of the room closer to her bed, lazily hugging one leg to himself, the other dangling over the edge, making it seem, somehow, like a swashbuckling thing to do. He doffed his outrageous purple hat with the diatryma plume with a mockery of courtesy, and smirked at Winter's expression of shock and anger at this invasion of privacy.
"Winter," Jarlaxle acknowledged, not the least put out at all.
--
Language:
Alur: stronger, superior
Dobluth: outcast
Kyone: careful
Lloth zhaunil: Lloth knows
Lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss:The best blade is the unseen one
Zhuanth'abbil: Old friend