Chapter 13
Abrupt twists
"What are you doing here?" Winter snapped, then sighed when Jarlaxle opened his mouth. "No, do not answer that." She stalked over to her bed and dropped the discarded clothing onto it before seating herself and reaching for her comb. You half-started for Jarlaxle, curling for a pounce, weight to your hind legs, but settled back down at her warning glance, confused and stunned at the mercenary's presence – you had not even sensed his entry.
"Asanque," Jarlaxle shrugged, resting his chin on his knee, covertly watching Winter comb her hair. Fingers jerky with annoyance soon calmed, then she looked back at him, oddly amused now rather than angry. This change in reaction startled Jarlaxle, but he said nothing else.
"What is so important?" she inquired politely, as if this sort of thing happened very often, pushing her hair behind her then removing boots to sit cross-legged on the bed.
Jarlaxle shrugged neutrally and continued to watch her with an unnerving intensity, an unblinking stare not unlike that of a serpent's.
"I would think you had seen enough already," Winter noticed, her tone becoming playful and uncomfortably suggestive. Her words slid right off you – then you blinked as your mind replayed them and then rewrote them in large, glaring letters, in italics, and with highlights.
The bathhouse! He had...why hadn't Irr'liancrea...but the fact that Jarlaxle did not deny the hidden accusation seemed to amuse Winter more than annoy her.
"Nav," Jarlaxle smiled slowly, devilishly. "Naut quin *."
You snarled, and Irr'liancrea pulsed into malevolent life. Winter simply chuckled, if a little mockingly.
"I do not think you are here for that, either."
"I can change my mind."
"Very brave of you, considering that you are here without your shard." Winter put her had pointedly on Irr'liancrea's hilt, a veiled threat blatantly apparent. Jarlaxle, however, seemed very relaxed, oblivious, even.
"You'd not kill me."
"I can, however, hurt you." Winter said nonchalantly, but took her hand off her sword's hilt. She did not seem the least bit less dangerous, however.
"Your oath on it?"
Winter glared at him, and you wondered if Jarlaxle was acting like this because he knew that it both amused and annoyed her, as well as being (for him at least) a source of not inconsiderable entertainment.
Probably. Jarlaxle merely smirked in the face of her scathing words, "I am sure that this is a novel way to attain my attention, and I appreciate your frank attitude, but if you do wish to continue you may do so in my absence." She stood up pointedly in a rustling of robes.
"What will you do?" Jarlaxle asked, and he did not refer to the present, but what she would do now that she had left Bregan D'aerthe.
"None of your business."
"I will find out eventually," Jarlaxle said calmly, and you knew this was true.
"Then I will hide again if it pleases me," Winter shrugged. "If you wish to play cat and mouse, then so will I. If I tire of the game...then the cat may find that the mouse has teeth."
Jarlaxle understood the reference, but you did not, and you kept silent. "Cats have both teeth and claws," he said playfully.
"And the cat may also be the mouse after all," Winter shot back. "Now, I would suggest that you leave before you raise my ire."
"Have I not?"
"Naut quin," Winter walked slowly over to him, hips swaying, veiled invitation held out of reach. Jarlaxle put down his other leg and made as if to slip off the desk to meet her, but she covered the remaining distance with commendable speed, with a few long strides. Her right hand touched and lingered on the muscles of his bared stomach, and she ran her thumbnail over them.
"You have a lot of guts for one so unprepared."
Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow at the last word, but made no move.
Her playful mood abruptly changed to vicious. "Want to see what they look like?" She curled her fingers into a malicious claw.
Jarlaxle pragmatically began to move his throwing dagger hand into a ready position, then literally froze at a few quick, sharp words from Winter.
"Do you like the game now?" she asked, voice low and menacing, but her fingers uncurled gradually, becoming soft and caressing again. "You have no protection against Loremaster faer * at all. Very pathetic, Jarlaxle." A holding spell took quite a bit to cast – somehow she must have incorporated it into her dialogue...
From the startled look on his face, he didn't understand why his shields had not been enough. You did.
"Your shields only guard against magic from this world," Winter tapped one of his medallions. You half-expected some sort of magical explosion, but it merely clinked against another. Jarlaxle had no choice but to watch – her voice was hypnotic, velvet over steel, lulling yet alarming.
"Pure Loremaster faer is of Morikan and above mere natural magic. You may even be shielded against certain forms of physical attack. However, you are not shielded from this."
Her right hand snapped up, slipping behind his neck, pulling his head down, and she kissed him roughly on the lips, insultingly, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth, a degrading action that a master may carry out on a slave. Jarlaxle stiffened convulsively but could not jerk away...even if he had not been magically held; she was female and stronger than he was.
Finally she stepped away, and apparently had achieved the reaction she wanted – Jarlaxle had narrowed his eyes, his face flushing a hot red of humiliation and fury...eyes blazing with black wrath and a certain guilty desire. Small red clouds of heat formed as he breathed heavily, only to dissipate in seconds just as quickly as they had formed.
Callously she wiped her mouth with the back of her right hand. "Want some more?" she said coldly. "Or do you wish to leave now?"
Jarlaxle could move again, and his throwing arm went into position, then he apparently thought better of it. He probably knew that Winter was simply baiting his temper, but the insult was too much for his pride...and he would indeed be very exposed if nothing on him worked against her magic. You could see him debating whether to leave immediately or come up with some shocking answer, but he wisely chose the former.
Jarlaxle whirled off the desk in a swirl of multicolored cloth, jewelry and boots silent, and just as abruptly disappeared, leaving behind him an air of reproach.
Winter let out a long, deep breath, and slumped against the wall. "Morikan. That may have been the hardest thing I have ever done."
It did seem a little harsh.
"He asked for it," Winter said defensively, her head jerking up, then she sighed and leaned more heavily on the wall. "Oh dear. But I may have pushed him too far."
Would he retaliate?
"He still needs my help," Winter said confidently, then rubbed her brow with the edge of her palm. "He will be furious for a while, but he knows he needs me."
And after this Reima was gone?
"If he were to confront me with Crenshinibon he may at least end up severely crippled, and so he will not." Winter pushed herself off the wall and sprawled on the bed. "It may however have cost me his friendship. Vel'uss zhaun? *"
Would it make him back off?
"We can always hope." Winter attempted to banter, but her heart was not in it.
You did warn him, after all.
"Mmm."
As you rolled onto your side on the bed, enjoying the delicious prickling of fur straightening back from a crumpled position on your exposed flank, you really did believe Jarlaxle's claim – he would find the two of you, eventually.
"In a city."
What?
"He'd find us – anywhere that has Bregan D'aerthe."
So?
Winter rolled off the bed. "Well then. Where would you like to go? It looks like we have a choice. Pirating on the Olath Niar, the underground ocean? The surface world?"
You much preferred the comfort of a city.
"Baldur's Gate? I love that place." Winter grinned.
Underground.
"Maybe we can find Q'Xarrae then."
Would not Bregan D'aerthe...
"Bregan D'aerthe does not have roots in every city, only the main ones," Winter said, then ruefully added, "Yet. And I think I would like to see this Q'Xarrae. If we can find it. But I believe we have freedom to do so...this Reima seems to be taking its time."
Out again into the Underdark.
"Cheer up, Kel," Winter was energized again, at her newest decision. "'Twill be better than dancing around Jarlaxle and Bregan D'aerthe at every turn. I'd give Rai'gy something to contact me with."
The mission?
"Still in place. Crenshinibon will not touch the triggers and spells – it is not familiar with Loremaster faer and probably may not even find them. I'd check back from time to time...but the rest would have to depend on Rai'gy."
L'hurde helped with the whirlwind packing, gave some irrelevant advice on the Underdark and travelling, then waved the two of you away. In an inappropriately short time, it seemed, the two of you were back into the gloom of the Underdark.
**
You looked back at the fast-retreating, purple faerie fire lights of Menzoberranzan once as the two of you paced away. It really did seem too abrupt a move.
"Abrupt, Kel?" Winter wore Loremaster robes, armor and other Velve-apparel donated to Olist El'lar. The Name Blade still sat smugly at her hips, but Irr'liancrea she had somehow managed to fix to her shoulders, the hilt bobbing up and down along with her gait. She looked more comfortable and at peace than she had for several years.
"Of course. That would be best. Certainly I do not think Jarlaxle would expect us to leave so quickly...he probably believes that I believe that I am stronger and he, no threat, hence I would stay and continue my machinations in Menzoberranzan. Well, I will regret not being able to see his expression when he finds the birds flown and the nest empty, so to speak."
What had Rai'gy said?
"I gave the device and instructions to one of Jalynfein's minions. That mage is overfond of golems, but it would serve the purpose of delivering the missive to Rai'gy. Let my Quar'valsharuk-ilharn panic if he wishes. I just hope he has the sense to do it out of earshot of Jarlaxle."
If Jarlaxle were to gain control of the device?
"Not of any use to him. He will not be able to use it to track me – it is keyed to Rai'gy. Let Rai'gy try to use his power over artifacts – it will be a waste of time and they will know it. In a while Bregan D'aerthe will lose interest. It is too expensive to concentrate resources on finding us."
You hoped she was right.
"Of course I am." Winter said with such supreme, self-mocking confidence that you laughed a nigouar's snuffling laugh.
"Now our greatest enemy would be boredom," Winter observed with happy certainty.
You were not so sure.
The intoxicating sense of freedom lasted approximately an hour before the reality of cold stone, sore paws, and tedium set in.
**
Several months later, with no response from Rai'gy and no apparent further movements from Reima, you wondered if playing cat and mouse with Bregan D'aerthe was so bad after all. The last sentient beings the two of you had seen was a week ago, and knowing goblins, they would be pretty low on the 'sentient' ladder in any case.
A patrol group which had, predictably, freaked when they saw a female drow who walked with total unconcern in one of the 'wild' areas of the Underdark, and a large nigouar still smelling faintly of its last kill.
It seemed to be years away from any city, let alone a drow city, and you wondered if either your finding-sense was screwing up or Q'Xarrae was still moving around, somehow. It seemed to be in a different place every so often.
Winter, still unconcerned, seemed quite happy to follow, even if it meant this absolute boredom. This part of the Underdark was rather sterile and empty – no soil, no fungus, only dark rock twisted into strange shapes over the centuries by pressure. Metamorphic rock, Winter had called them.
The next meal seemed to be stretching out ahead of you, far away...
Winter stopped abruptly, such that you bumped into her. She ignored it and knelt down, fingers tracing out a symbol that had been etched into the solid ground – an eight-sided star in a circle.
What?
Winter frowned and looked around, before murmuring over the circle, before finally drawing Irr'liancrea and touching the tip of its blade to the symbol.
She sighed as if at some painfully obvious revelation, and straightened. "Demons, you can come out now. Both of you."
What you had thought to be a pillar of stone in front of you, naturally created by water in tunnels, rippled, like liquid. You realized what your mind had been telling you all the while – in such a dry place, how could that pillar have formed?
You bared your teeth and took a step back, as Winter raised her sword menacingly.
The pillar melted downwards, then whirled and blurred to form two indistinct shapes, before clearing to show two young-looking female elves, one with silvery-gold hair and bronze-tinted skin, the other with jet black hair and skin a deep chocolate color. Both had identical features, identical greenish-red eyes, and identical impish grins on their unbelievably beautiful faces.
The silver haired one wore scarlet and black samite robes, exquisitely embroidered with accentuating patterns, scintillating in the infrared and most probably in visual light as well, that was provocatively demure at parts and seductively revealing at others. The black haired one wore robes of a pure white, a total lack of color and decoration, though cut in the same way as the silver haired one's.
"Succubi?" Winter said dryly.
"Nav," the silver-gold haired one spoke, voice rich and throaty.
"Half demon," the black haired one agreed, her voice light and silvery.
"Half angel," the other one corrected.
"You know our mother," the black haired one added, perfectly on cue.
"Winter, that is. Kel doesn't." the silver-gold haired one continued, in a near-perfect sequence.
"I do?" Winter raised an eyebrow. "I do not think I know many demons. Especially succubi. And I did not think angels, of all creatures, would..."
"Mother's known as Raelmaztigar." The black haired one trilled. They both giggled at Winter's astonishment.
"What? But..."
"Mother can take both forms." The silver-gold haired one smiled.
"With an angel? Morikan, this world is turning upside down."
"Everything is possible..."
"Nothing is impossible..." they both said together, then laughed again, this time at each other.
"Raelmaztigar is remarkably perverted for a balor, then," Winter said dryly. "Always thought there was something wrong with him...er, her. It. So then. The two of you are his...its daughters?"
"Yep."
"Xas."
"What are you doing here then?"
"Going with you."
"Z'hinin xuil dos....L'Illythiiri is so cool."
"What for?" Winter inquired.
"Raelmaztigar said we'd be safer here with you than in the Abyss," The silver-gold haired one jumped into the air, sat cross-legged in space and tilted into a mad angle. "And it's more fun! Mother's so thoughtful."
"I am going to speak with it later," Winter growled, but she was oddly placid about the prospect of two...demon-angels joining the group.
"How long have the two of you been in the Underdark?" she asked suddenly.
"Us? Oh. 'bout five years before this. We tried the surface first, but the Underdark's more fun. Drow are so adorable...even if Mother didn't let us bring some back as pets. We'd sneak over now and then for a bit of excitement. There's not much to do in the Abyss except annoy other balors and terrorize lower tanar'ri...the gods won't play." The black haired one pouted prettily.
With an angel...? And what was that about drow?
Winter ignored the chatter. "Did he...it know that Reima is in the Underdark?"
"Oh, Uncle Reima? Sure we know. Mother does too."
"You know Reima?" Winter blinked.
"Sure. What were his last words? Oh yes: the two of you are an abomination in the eyes of Order and Chaos and must be destroyed! I will end your miserable existences!" The black haired one said, her voice growing lower and archly rasping. They burst into snickers.
"That's why mother told us to go to you. Said we'd be safer." The silver haired continued when the two of them had calmed down. "And since you were passing by..."
"We didn't promise mother exactly when we'd meet up with you..."
"But mother's getting so stiff lately...like that Errtu. Brr..."
"Not much of a wonder then. I doubt the presence of both shards back on this world would have been enough to call back the attention of the higher powers, let alone get them to send a powerful representative. They want you two dead, then."
"So the demons keep us alive," the black haired one said happily. "There's a lot of trouble with Mother though. But Mother's one of the most powerful, so they sort of leave us alone."
"I am so surprised," Winter said dryly. "Very well then. What are your names?"
"Drow ones or real ones?"
"Both."
"Real one..." the black haired one made a snarling, growling sound.
"Drow ones," Winter amended graciously.
"Veldrin for me," the black haired one said.
"Ssussun's mine." The other chimed in. They both snickered.
Shadows and light...
"You know ours already. I assume Raelmaztigar told the two of you about me?"
Veldrin and Ssussun peered at Winter, then at you, and you felt uneasy in their alien eyes.
"Oh yes. The wielder of Irr'liancrea, gone offworld to study some other form of magic," Veldrin said breezily. "With more 'evil' friends than 'good' ones...including some of the Demon Council, all forged out of really odd circumstances. Lin'Fayaenre Ra'Kest, Winter to friends. And we're friends, aren't we?"
Winter gave up. "Yes, very well then."
--
Language:
Naut quin: Not yet
Faer: magic
Vel'uss zhaun: who knows