"That is not it, at all.
That is not what I meant at all."

Chapter Eight

I don't know why you didn't help me. I don't understand why you ignored my prayer. I know I don't have a right to question you or your purposes, but I think you're enough greater than a mere mortal to withstand my confusion and . . . and anger. I just need—

With a sigh, Tai broke his communion with Hoar and focused on Entreri's back. They'd been navigating through the High Forest for two days, tracking Mordecai and his group. As careful as the drow were, they didn't have enough experience with forests to not leave a trail. Therefore, while Entreri and Nyx tracked the drow, Tai followed Entreri and Jarlaxle followed Nyx, who was on a parallel course five feet to Tai's left. Unfortunately, the monk had proven correct: the forest was so dense there wasn't an obvious path the drow could have taken, forcing Tai and his companions to follow the drow's exact trail. Despite this possible disadvantage, Jarlaxle had orchestrated a plan that seemed sound to the priest.

But no matter how sound Jarlaxle's plan might be, it didn't help Tai feel any less conflicted about facing Mordecai again. Tai rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and compelled himself to focus on the forest instead of his anxieties. Just like the day before, the sun was shining, so the canopy of leaves glowed in the warm light, and the occasional sunbeam pierced the leaves to spotlight the moss and grass beneath their feet. However, the wind blew in gusts, suggesting an approaching storm, and the branches high above their heads creaked from the force. Much to Tai's relief, the creaking branches and rustling leaves were the only sounds; the forest was basically quiet since his companions maintained silence for stealth. Occasionally, a bird chirped or a twig snapped under the weight of an unseen animal, but these sounds didn't bother Tai. If not for the smell of mint, which reminded Tai of the night he'd been . . . attacked, the boy could have partially relaxed. But the knot in his stomach—a fist squeezing his insides into mush—would not unwind, and Tai had such a severe headache that even the dim light hurt his eyes.

Furthermore, Tai's headache was exasperated by the thoughts bombarding his mind. The object of one such thought was Jarlaxle, and Tai glanced to his side to frown at the elf. Jarlaxle's words about Mordecai from the day before haunted the boy: "It is not so difficult to anticipate his moves." It wasn't? Then why hadn't Jarlaxle stayed with him during their surveillance? Or had he suspected the outcome and simply not cared? After all, Tai had also overheard Jarlaxle say, "You assume I do not use them merely for my own profit or amusement." Had Tai been a fool to not prejudge Jarlaxle based on what little he knew of the drow? Was he simply Jarlaxle's pawn . . . as well as Hoar's?

Tai shook his head violently, trying to clear the blasphemous thought from his mind. Still, the fear and confusion remained, exhausting Tai and limiting his communions with Hoar to two or three minutes—a bad situation considering the approaching battle. And as for Jarlaxle . . .

Swallowing a sigh, Tai reached up to massage his neck and shoulders, which were holding most of his tension, and found knots there that made him imagine small lemons were bunched up under his skin. "Will we be stopping soon?" he whispered to Entreri's back.

The assassin glanced over his shoulder and gave the boy an irritated look, but the expression quickly vanished. Entreri nodded and stopped. Jarlaxle immediately halted, proving that he'd been keeping the two humans in his periphery, and Nyx stopped as well. Entreri used some kind of sign language Tai didn't follow to explain his decision to Jarlaxle, who nodded and motioned for Nyx to follow him as he walked closer.

"Are you tired?" Jarlaxle whispered when he'd reached Tai.

Tai looked up into Jarlaxle's dark eyes and found himself wondering if the elf's concern was an act. "Yes."

Jarlaxle watched him for a moment before responding. "We'll stop and rest a few minutes, although we cannot afford to rest long."

"I know." Annoyed, Tai turned away and searched for a place to sit. He chose an exposed tree root and soon had an assassin sitting beside him. Entreri pulled out his canteen and took a sip. Without glancing Tai's way, he held out the canteen to the boy, and Tai took it with a mumbled "thank you" and drank as well.

Since Jarlaxle and Nyx remained standing and on-guard, Tai found himself with only Entreri to whisper with. Tai's brow furrowed as he considered the man; Jarlaxle's words weren't the only ones haunting the boy. Entreri's comment of several nights earlier kept returning to him: "Do not behave so. You are not some spineless victim."

The young priest bit his lip. Had Tai's father said such a thing to him, he would've assumed it meant "Be strong! Be a man!" But the latter part of Entreri's words cycled in his thoughts: "You are a man who has had the strength to survive another's sickness. You should take pride in that." Strength? Pride? Maybe . . . just maybe . . . the assassin had been trying to help him.

. . . Then again, what pride could Tai really have? As someone who was almost seventeen years old and was a trained cleric, shouldn't he have been able to stop the assault? If he'd immediately called upon what few prayers remained to him that day, or if he'd yelled out . . . or maybe if he'd instantly tried to run, couldn't he have . . .?

Tai slumped, feeling his entire soul burn with shame.

Entreri watched the boy. "Stop thinking so damn much."

Tai jerked his posture upright and stared at the man. "Stop . . . thinking?"

"Stop b—" Entreri's jaw clenched, and he didn't continue. "Yes. Stop thinking." He reached out and took his canteen from Tai. "Let us resume our tracking. We have drow to kill."

Tai stood and gazed after the man, wondering what Entreri had started to say.

Several miles away, Mordecai leaned against the rough bark of a tree and grinned as his scout weaved between the trees, making his way toward the scout leader. Today truly was a good day; even Cat seemed to sense it, for she was happily stalking some small green creature near Mordecai's feet. In flash of white fur, she jumped upon it, breaking its neck with her powerful jaws, and Mordecai admired her technique.

When the scout reached Mordecai, he bowed.

"Report."

The scout straightened. "Jarlaxle and his companions are nearing our position, sir."

"They are?" Mordecai asked languidly, wanting to savor each moment of Jarlaxle's impending doom.

The scout nodded. "Yes, sir. I predict they'll catch up to us in approximately four hours."

Mordecai chuckled. A good day, indeed. It was perfect. "Dismissed." Mordecai waved away the scout, who bowed again and left. The scout leader gazed upward into the leaves and branches which the wind violently tossed, and he smiled at the thrashing green mass.

It was time. Mordecai would finish his task of assassinating Jarlaxle and eliminating his pet—or, rather, pets—and then he would retrieve the Kagaor ki Tamal. And once he had that . . .

Mordecai laughed to himself as visions of chaos and destruction filled his head.

Jarlaxle watched as Entreri took his canteen back from Tai and stood.

"Let us resume our tracking. We have drow to kill," the assassin said, moving off to consult with Nyx—or, more likely, to argue with her.

Jarlaxle reached up and rubbed his chin with his fingers. Entreri was proving an awkward mentor to Tai, but the elf hadn't expected anything more. Although Entreri had the personal experience necessary to relate to Tai, he had never cared for or helped anyone . . . and he certainly wouldn't admit to the boy that he could empathize. Still, Jarlaxle felt that with a bit of prodding and further advice, the assassin could be somewhat beneficial to Tai—and, therefore, to himself, too. And a less angry Entreri would make a safer companion for a drow without a home . . .

A drow without a home . . .

Jarlaxle wondered if he were mad for considering the possibility of breaking his ties to Menzoberranzan. He'd always been as tied to . . . as trapped by . . . Menzoberranzan as Zaknafein had been. Could he really do as Drizzt had done and break free?

Had Drizzt truly broken free?

Jarlaxle noted that Tai had stood and was gazing after Entreri, and although the boy's shoulder-length black hair hung in his face, it didn't hide his troubled expression. Apparently sensing Jarlaxle's gaze, the priest glanced at the drow and frowned. Jarlaxle perceived a growing problem; this made the second time today the boy at looked at him with such suspicion. Was the priest blaming him for what had happened, just as Nyx apparently was? Had Nyx influenced the boy?

Jarlaxle stopped, realizing he was making an assumption. Perhaps Tai had not yet told Nyx he'd left the boy and moved off on his own. And when Nyx found out . . .

Indeed, Jarlaxle had a growing problem on his hands. Still, he had never meant for Tai to get hurt, and he wasn't to blame for the fact that—

"Regardless of how successful or unsuccessful your plans or choices are, you must always face the consequences of your actions," a voice from long ago echoed in his mind—the voice of a drow Jarlaxle hadn't thought of in many years. "Usually this means arranging for someone else to take the fall for you, but every once and a while, you have to . . ."

". . . take the fall yourself and deal with the outcome," Jarlaxle whispered to himself. He sighed and took his position behind Nyx as the four started tracking their prey again. Such wisdom that drow had possessed, and like Zaknafein, he, too, had paid the price for his differing views. Just like Drizzt had paid for his, although not yet with his life—though that sacrifice might still come.

"Mercy can save your soul, or damn your body," Jarlaxle had once said to Drizzt, and the same was true for going too far against the grain of drow society.

So which one was Jarlaxle the most concerned with? His soul or his body? His empire or his "freedom" on the surface? His responsibility to these people or his carefree ability to only consider his own fate?

They weren't questions easily answered, and Jarlaxle found no reason to answer them today. For now, he needed to concentrate on defeating Mordecai.

Mordecai used drow hand code to direct his soldiers into their positions and found himself feeling pleased with how things were working out. Black clouds had rushed across the sky, overtaking the sunset and rendering the forest dark and tense in the face of the coming storm. The thick shadows gave the drow an advantage in fighting three of their four enemies, while the wind howling through the trees easily covered the occasional misstep and broken twig as the drow concealed themselves behind trees and bushes. Jarlaxle and his pets would be dead before they entirely understood the trap they'd walked into.

Mordecai had used a divine enchantment to command Cat to stay in place and out of harm's way. So with his soldiers in position and the ambush set, the scout leader felt certain everything was perfect. All that remained was for the victims to arrive and for Mordecai to unleash upon them several lovely unholy prayers. He had a few beautifully nasty surprises planned for them . . .

Mordecai tried not to get excited, but the thought of the upcoming pain, terror, and death made his entire body tingle with anticipation. He would never tire of battle and death, he decided, even if he could live to be 2,000 years old.

Jarlaxle slipped through the low branches and back into to the group's hiding spot in a particularly dense copse of trees. "Just as I suspected," he whispered, kneeling in front of the crouched humans, "they've set up an ambush. They're spread around the next small clearing in typical formation."

Entreri nodded, and for once an undercurrent of energy brightened the man's expression, unlike Nyx and Tai, who appeared grim. A flash of lightening pierced the canopy overhead, throwing the humans' faces and expressions into further contrast, and Jarlaxle momentarily wondered if the two followers of Hoar were up to this task.

But of course they were. This was about vengeance and justice.

"It's important that everyone stick to our plan," Jarlaxle continued, still keeping his voice low, although some words were lost in the rumbling thunder. The approaching storm would soon be upon them. "Artemis, if you and Tai will take out the three on our right; Nyx, you will have to take out the two to our left. And I'll handle Mordecai."

Entreri glared at Jarlaxle. "I will agree to that only if you do not kill him before I can join you. I have a right to the killing blow."

"Only if I don't reach him first," Nyx whispered harshly.

Tai simply stared at the ground, and Jarlaxle could tell that the boy felt torn inside. Likely, his emotions about facing Mordecai were quite mixed.

"I shall do my best to save a piece of Mordecai for you both," Jarlaxle said lightly, "but it is important that Tai does not get separated from you, Artemis."

Tai shot Jarlaxle a pointed glare, then quickly looked down again.

"Which is why I should remain with Tai instead," Nyx whispered, looking at Entreri with suspicion, but her words were swallowed by a sharp report of thunder.

The assassin had apparently read her lips, however, for he narrowed his eyes. "I am perfectly able to keep an eye on Tai and fight at the same time."

Jarlaxle quickly suppressed a smile and marked the day as historic. Still, he had trouble keeping a straight face given that Entreri didn't seem immediately aware of the irony of his words. "Enough discussion," Jarlaxle whispered. "Let us proceed."

Entreri nodded to Tai and stood, and the boy stood as well, following him as he melted into the gloom. Nyx headed in the opposite direction, circling around behind where Jarlaxle had indicated her targets were. Jarlaxle engaged the enchantments upon several pieces of his jewelry and headed straight toward the clearing, pretending to be the group's scout who was naively falling into the trap—and he counted on Mordecai's arrogance to be great enough for him to not immediately question the ruse. However, even if Mordecai did see through the trick, Jarlaxle had all his defenses in place.

After all, Jarlaxle hadn't survived centuries in Menzoberranzan without being able to handle those who coveted his position.

Tai followed Entreri as quietly as he could, although the howling wind helped mask his footsteps. The assassin's ability to move so silently across the littered forest floor amazed the boy; Tai felt like the drow could probably hear his mere breathing from yards away. No matter. The more pressing concern of the moment was whether he should try to commune with Hoar one last time.

Why not? It couldn't hurt. The "hurt" he'd already experienced. If it didn't help, that wouldn't be unprecedented, either.

I'm unsure if you can hear me . . . or if I am still in your favor . . . especially since I've skipped several of my normal mediations with you, but . . . Tai took a deep breath. Please grant me your divine favor so I may defeat my enemies. At this point, I shall have to rely on inspiration from you . . . but . . . The priest exhaled heavily, though silently. Just help, please.

The lessons Tai had received from his uncle returned to him, then: Do you have faith, child? Even the tiniest spark of faith can produce miracles. But this is not to say you should become tyrannized by the question of faith. If you have doubts, tell Hoar you wish to believe, and then ask him to help you with those doubts.

His uncle had always been wise. I want to believe; help me erase my doubts, Tai prayed.

Entreri had stopped and held up his hand, indicating that Tai halt. The boy dropped into a crouch and waited as Entreri moved from tree to tree, hiding himself behind the trunks and checking the area. The assassin returned and knelt by Tai. He leaned close to the priest's ear, keeping his voice so soft Tai had to concentrate to understand him.

"Are you ready?"

A single raindrop fell upon the boy's hand, and he stared at it as he nodded.

"Two directly in front of us. Third ten feet beyond." Entreri paused, and Tai could hear the frown in his voice. "We'll take the two together but must silence the third quickly."

Several more raindrops worked their way through the leaves as the storm picked up force, and the air filled with the sound of the rain striking millions of leaves. "I'll do my best to silence the third," Tai whispered. "But it'll delay my entry into the fight with the first two."

Entreri nodded and gestured for Tai to follow him. The priest steeled himself as they stood and worked their way toward the first two drow. A sudden crash of thunder nearly caused the boy to jump, but he held in his surprise and drew one of his stiletto daggers.

Once the assassin reached a particularly large tree trunk, he grew still, and Tai could actually sense his muscles tensing. The man then sprang around the tree, drawing his weapons effortlessly and attacking the drow beyond. For all the realms, Tai was reminded of a panther—dark, sleek, and deadly.

The priest quickly scanned the trees for the third drow, who had in fact exited his hiding spot and was heading for the fight. Tai stared down at the divine emblem stitched into his now battered cloak and concentrated, praying the words and drawing in the air the symbol of a divine spell so familiar that casting it made his heart ache.

The boy glanced back up, breathless with fear that the prayer would not be heard or answered.

The third drow froze in place, rendered motionless and mute.

Tai stared at the immobile soldier for several seconds as reality sank in. Hoar answered my prayer!

Several emotions hit Tai at once—confusion, relief, joy, and anger—but now that the boy realized he was empowered to do so, he found he very much wanted to rid the world of drow. The adrenaline and righteous fury that surged through his body made the boy feel his pulse in the hand clutching the dagger.

Retribution must be had. These drow had to die.

From her position in a tree above her first target, Nyx pulled out her shuriken and eyed the intended victim's spine. The two drow she had to kill were positioned about ten feet apart from each other, and while they weren't in visual range with each other, Nyx knew they were easily within hearing range. I only have one chance to take him out quickly and cleanly, she thought, and she held no doubt that she could do so. However, if the solider turned at just the wrong moment—or worse, sensed her presence—she would quickly find herself facing two drow at once. Not promising, although she'd successfully done so before.

With several quick snaps of her wrist, Nyx aimed shuriken at six separate points in the drow's vertebrae. Four shuriken were deflected by the drow's armor, but the other two drove home, effectively paralyzing the solider. He fell to the ground face-first without much more than a gasp.

Nyx grinned to herself and used the cover of the thunder to vault out of the tree. Rain pelted her head, shoulders, and arms as she crept toward her second victim. She had to wonder, then, why people were so afraid of drow. She'd killed three now with very little (or, in this case, no) difficulty.

The monk drew her matching gurkha kukri from the sheaths on her thighs as she approached the other soldier's position. However, when she peeked around the final tree trunk in preparation for the kill, she found he was no longer there.

Where could he have gone, and so quickly? she thought, tensing as her senses grew hypersensitive. Immediately, she remembered the way Jarlaxle had slipped around behind her the day before, and she began to turn, her blades raised.

"Too late," a voice whispered in her ear as a cold blade touched her bare throat.

Jarlaxle gave up all pretensions as Mordecai stepped into the small clearing before him. The scout leader grinned wickedly at his former employer and ran a hand through his wet stock of white hair, which was now plastered against his skull. A flash of lightening further illuminated the younger drow's sharp features for a moment, and Jarlaxle could clearly see the confidence in the cleric's expression.

"Ah, dear, old, senile Jarlaxle. I am surprised at the extent of your sloppiness." Mordecai smirked.

Jarlaxle extended his senses past the dark clearing, and although he could neither see nor hear any fighting, he felt assured that Entreri, Tai, and Nyx were busy picking off their targets. Again, you assume much about my plans and intentions, Jarlaxle thought. "I would think you would not be so certain of yourself after losing so many of your soldiers before," he taunted.

Mordecai glared at the mercenary leader then, and Jarlaxle knew he'd hit a sore spot. "You assume much," the younger drow said, raising his voice to be heard over the driving rain.

"Actually, that is my line," Jarlaxle replied with a smile.

Mordecai narrowed his eyes and began tracing a symbol in the air as he prayed. Jarlaxle immediately moved to drop the clearing into silence, but at that moment two things happened: the mercenary leader felt a dreadfully familiar sensation, and no silence descended. In fact, a terrific clap of thunder rent the air, underscoring the decided lack of magical silence.

Jarlaxle grinned at the cleric. "You tried to dispel the magic of my charms. I assure you, you failed."

In the growing darkness, Mordecai's red eyes glowed as he sneered. "Just as you failed to cast this area into magical silence. I assure you, I've taken care of that trick of yours."

The thunderstorm intensified then, driving sheets of rain through the canopy above and drenching the drow and their area of combat. "It would seem our initial strategies were both ineffective," Jarlaxle said, flexing the fingers of his dagger-throwing hand and calculating the slippery grass into his attack strategy.

"I am sure we'll compensate," Mordecai replied, drawing his remaining falchion and a dagger and effectively ending the pretense of conversation.

Mordecai charged Jarlaxle, who drew one of his concealed daggers even as he hailed daggers from his bracer upon the cleric. The daggers simply bounced off of Mordecai, however, and Jarlaxle had to dive to the side to avoid the cleric's initial strike. As he rolled to his feet, Jarlaxle drew one of his favorite wands—the one which spewed a sticky web—and let loose a barrage at Mordecai. The cleric tore through the web as though it were a garden spider's.

"I told you, I know and have prepared for your tricks," the scout leader said, charging Jarlaxle again.

Jarlaxle didn't even acknowledge the younger drow's words. He drew his second dagger, snapped his wrists, and spoke the spell that elongated them into swords. He parried Mordecai's thrusts with ease, but he found himself disquieted by the strength the cleric was displaying. Jarlaxle had never fought anyone who struck with such force! Mordecai had magically enhanced his strength, the mercenary leader was sure of it. Still, Jarlaxle blocked the downward swing of Mordecai's falchion, forcing the younger drow off-balance as he tried to follow through with his dagger, and then kicking him in the side of the knee for good measure.

Mordecai jumped away with a breathless laugh and circled wide. "Not bad for an old elf." He drew a pattern in the air with his dagger and whispered a prayer. "Now, let's see how you do with a little more of a challenge."

Jarlaxle was already on top of him by then, and Mordecai had not a moment to spare as he tried to fend off Jarlaxle's strikes, which danced all around him and nicked him. The mercenary leader led the cleric through a particularly confusing—and ornate—series of circles, popping his blades in the air and keeping Mordecai's concentration on fending off his feigned stabs. Mordecai kept up well, but Jarlaxle could tell he would be unable to do so forever.

It was at that moment, however, that Jarlaxle sensed he was surrounded. The mercenary leader forced Mordecai into a defense routine that directed him in a circle, affording Jarlaxle the ability to take stock of his surroundings. The mercenary leader understood, then, what Mordecai had prayed for.

A dozen large tree limbs, fallen tree trunks, and even uprooted saplings had surrounded the drow in the attitude of living creatures and appeared ready to attack.

Mordecai had animated the forest itself and was going to use it as a small army against Jarlaxle.

Entreri withdrew his sword from the second drow's chest as the skin peeled back from his skull and his mouth fell open, revealing yellowed teeth. So much for the first two soldiers. Entreri had experienced little trouble with them, which was fortunate since Tai hadn't joined the battle quickly enough to do much more than momentarily distract the second drow. The priest's lateness didn't seem to be for a lack of commitment, however. The assassin watched in shock as Tai descended upon the third drow, who had apparently been immobilized by a spell, and began slashing at him with his twin daggers.

At first, Entreri experienced a moment's surprise that Hoar had apparently granted Tai divine favor, although the sensation was fleeting. The realization was overwhelmed by the violence with which the boy was attacking the drow. For only the second time in his entire adult life, Entreri found himself rendered motionless as he watched the spectacle before him. In a matter of seconds, the normally calm priest had savagely opened a dozen wounds on the solider. Blood and rain poured down the drow's body as he obviously struggled against the remnants of Tai's spell, but Tai did not slow his attacks. The storm had completely drenched the boy, plastering his hair to his head, and the thunder obscured his words as he shouted breathlessly at the drow. For a moment, every detail of the scene seemed to press itself on Entreri: the rain pouring like tears down Tai's face; the strands of black hair sticking to the boy's cheeks; the sound of Tai's yells combined with claps of thunder; the blur of the priest's daggers as he slashed them in a crisscross pattern across the drow's chest; and the drow's red eyes burning with anger, pain, and fear.

The contradictory impulses Entreri experienced in that moment were so profound that his confusion was instantaneous and complete. But an impulse—a compunction he didn't understand—forced the man into immediate action. He charged forward, knocked the boy out of the way, and decapitated the drow with one swipe from Charon's Claw.

Tai hit the ground and stared up at Entreri with a look of anger so piercing that the assassin nearly raised his weapons. "Why?" the priest yelled, his normally dark brown eyes appearing black in the growing darkness. For a strange moment, the assassin felt like someone else was glaring up at him, not Tai.

Entreri paused and sheathed his weapons, confident that if Tai did assault him that he could defeat him while unarmed. The assassin reached down and pulled the boy to his feet. "Always attack with precision and efficiency," he said simply, "and never give in to rage as you fight. It makes your technique sloppy."

The dark, dark eyes which had locked so powerfully with Entreri's gaze widened after a moment. "You mean . . . I was still somehow leaving myself open for attack?"

The assassin stared into those overly-large brown eyes, which seemed familiar again—the eyes of the boy he knew—and wondered faintly at the second clash of emotions that threatened him. Entreri impatiently shoved the confusion away. "Yes. Anyone could have attacked you from the sides or back during your wild assault, and you would have never sensed him." He gestured with his head toward their left, where Jarlaxle and Nyx were no doubt fighting. "Stay focused. This battle has only begun."

Nyx knew she was dead. The cold rain racing down her bare arms could not match the chill of that certainty. She understood enough about drow to know they had little or no use for human prisoners, and the drow soldier had his sword blade against the right side of her throat. That being acknowledged, she decided to go down fighting. In one fluid movement, she jerked her neck away from the blade, brought her arm up to simultaneously push the blade upward, and stomped backward with her booted heel, hoping to injure the drow's foot.

A searing pain shot across her throat and a lesser pain bloomed in her right arm, but she managed to knock the blade away. The drow's exclamation told her she'd also managed to hurt his foot at least slightly. Nyx ignored her injuries and whirled around, slashing at the drow's chest. The soldier instantly recovered and brought his sword to bear, but Nyx blocked it with her left-hand blade. She clenched her right fist around her other khukri and aimed a punch at the drow's solar plexus; as her fist connected, she directed a pulse of ki through her arm and hand and into his chest. With a gasp of pain, the soldier was knocked backward off his feet.

Nyx didn't pause, even for a moment, and she assumed that since she was still standing, the wound to her throat hadn't been critical. Having heard her grandfather's war stories as a child, however, she knew she was making a big assumption.

Desperate soldiers could do some amazing things while seriously wounded.

Entreri reached the small clearing where Jarlaxle and Mordecai fought in time to witness one of the oddest scenes he'd ever seen. Not only was Jarlaxle trying his best to fend off the cleric's strikes, he was fighting . . . living, moving tree limbs, trunks, and saplings, all of which stabbed at him with whatever "appendages" they possessed.

"What in the nine hells?" the assassin whispered under his breath, but a flash of lightening lit the clearing for an instant, giving him the chance to verify his initial impression.

Tai was suddenly at his elbow. "Mordecai has animated them. Jarlaxle is effectively outnumbered."

"Doubtful," Entreri replied, having seen Jarlaxle's swordwork on more than one occasion now, but he wasn't about to test his supposition. The assassin charged in, his goal to simultaneously give Jarlaxle support and to get himself into the position to slice Mordecai into tiny pieces.

Charon's Claw made quick work of two animated tree limbs, then Entreri was at Jarlaxle's side. "Tree limbs?" the assassin asked.

A thoroughly drenched Jarlaxle laughed as he slashed through an attacking sapling. "Welcome to the festivities."

Entreri snorted. "Only a half-mad drow would enjoy fighting an animated forest."

Mordecai had turned his attention to the assassin and now rained a dozen quick slashes and stabs upon the man, who easily parried them. "It is pleasing to have my intended victim before me again," the drow taunted.

The assassin narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Save your threats. I shall shortly remove the very flesh from your skull."

Mordecai chuckled and brought his falchion down at an angle; Entreri intercepted his blade with a matching block which he followed with a quick push that threw Mordecai's sword wide. The drow apparently anticipated the move, however, for he drove his dagger in high, hoping to slip through the assassin's defenses. Entreri parried the strike with his own dagger, simultaneously reversing his sword to slash across Mordecai's chest. The drow quickly reversed his own blade, blocking a strike that would have sliced through his ribs.

Then, for an odd moment, Mordecai grew unnaturally still. Entreri didn't waste his chance; he plunged his dagger into the drow's side. The cleric shook himself violently, and to his credit, he apparently remained calm despite the draining of his lifeforce. With a quick double-slash, he forced Entreri to disengage. In that moment, the assassin could see Tai several feet behind the drow, and he concluded that Tai had been responsible for the scout leader's temporary immobility.

Jarlaxle had destroyed all the remaining animated tree limbs and now turned back toward Mordecai. The grin he gave the cleric then should have been enough to freeze his soul. Behind Mordecai, Tai was drawing his daggers, and to his side, a wet and bloody Nyx stepped through the trees, shuriken in one hand and the other hand pressed against her neck.

"You are outnumbered, outclassed, and outsmarted," Jarlaxle said.

Entreri dispensed with words and raised his weapons even as a shuriken buried itself in Mordecai's shoulder. The drow jumped backward, quickly sheathing his dagger and grabbing something else . . .

"No!" The assassin burst forward in a devastating horizontal strike, but his blade cut nothing more than orange smoke as Mordecai was teleported away. "Damn!" The assassin turned toward Jarlaxle with a glare. "What is this with drow, wizards, clerics, and teleportation! I spend all my time either staring at clouds of smoke or getting my insides rearranged!"

Jarlaxle looked notably sour and inclined to agree. "Take Tai and search to your right. I'll take Nyx and search to the left. He can't have gotten too far."

Entreri motioned to a frowning Tai and headed off, but he suspected they would not find Mordecai. Ultimately, though, the assassin felt the drow's escape would be nothing more than a minor irritation. They would find the drow, and he would kill him. Entreri was a very patient and methodical man.

For even if it took many years and traveling thousands of miles, once he had a target, Entreri never quit until it was dead.

Never.

A/N: I'm very sorry for taking so long to post this; thank you all so much for your patience. You've got one more chapter headed your way…then I'll be working on the next story. :) Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed chapter 7.

Attention please! I have some absolutely fantastic artwork and music to tell you about (or remind you of) that several fellow LE members have done for my stories:

Rufio's watercolor of Artemis and Mordecai from "Specters" chapter 4: http/ or search LE's images for Rufio's folder (the latter option is better if you want to leave a review).

Rezuri's picture of Artemis and Jarlaxle from "Progression" chapter 9: http/ and picture of Tai and Artemis from chapter 6 of "Specters": http/
Check them out at before you search LE's images for Rezuri's folder (although if you want to review, you'll have to access it here at LE). Rezuri tells me she slightly altered the pics after she posted them at LE, and the newer versions are at music for my stories: email her at all three of you so much! I am so wowed!

Silverwolf: Nope, I haven't revealed Tai's home nation yet, but you're right--it's not Chessentra. I hope to get into Tai's past and origins a bit more in the second story (or third at the latest), but here's a hint: Hoar's priesthood are mostly wanderers (one of Hoar's domains is travel). Er...that wasn't much of a hint, I guess. ;)