Chapter 7

The fireball bloomed in the tavern like a demonic flower, the tongues of flame brushing the walls like destructive orange petals. Entreri knelt behind the toppled table, which took the brunt of the initial discharge, then took the risk and jumped through the window behind him, knowing that the tavern would soon explode. Sure enough, the assassin had only taken two running steps before the entire building combusted. The force of the blast knocked Entreri off of his feet and hurled him across the street. He rolled as he hit the ground, both to absorb the impact and to extinguish the flames eating at his clothes. Despite his efforts, he was certain to be bruised, especially since he was also pummeled by flying debris.

Marrin Socor. Entreri was sure the caster was their new wizard friend. Regaining his feet, he melted into the shadows of the nearest alley and watched as moments later Socor stepped from his hiding place to scan the street. Psychotic fool, Entreri thought, growling to himself. Did he just destroy an entire tavern to get me? Has he never heard of stealth?

Socor glanced about, his gaze passing right over where the assassin stood, and he frowned, obviously confused as to where his opponent had gone. Entreri grinned wickedly. Perhaps killing that shade had been the best luck he'd had in over a decade.

Divide and conquer, his mind whispered to him, and the assassin realized the wisdom of the insight. Socor would choose to strike only when he and Jarlaxle were apart. Perhaps, in fact, the wizard had magically viewed their argument and was attacking now that they were not only apart but at odds.

Entreri frowned. He wasn't sure just how powerful the wizard was, but Jarlaxle knew the most about him and would prove a great asset in the battle. The assassin had to set aside all his questions and doubts and find Jarlaxle so they could deal with Socor.

Provided, of course, that the drow had not abandoned him.

Jarlaxle entered the town in a dead run, and unsure where to go, headed for the most logical place: their inn. To his surprise, Entreri was waiting for him. The assassin stepped out of the shadows of the alley by the building, and Jarlaxle noted with some discomfort that he hadn't even seen the man who was now a demi-shade.

Entreri strode toward him without a word, and Jarlaxle froze in his tracks, wondering what would happen. The assassin seemed tense, alert, and urgent, but he did not seem threatening. He grabbed Jarlaxle's wrist and pulled him into the shadows; the mercenary immediately stiffened and prepared for the worst.

"We have an uninvited guest," the human whispered. He let go of Jarlaxle's wrist only to grasp his hand and place Socor's magical token into it. "Given that the token rejected me, I think it best if you carry it."

Jarlaxle's mouth nearly dropped open. "You trust me still?" he couldn't help asking as he stored the coin in a belt pouch.

Entreri smirked. "You do not betray without the promise of profit or gain. There is nothing for you to gain here other than your own safety. Therefore, I trust you."

The logic is perfect, and utterly correct, Jarlaxle noted, although somehow the words once again had a faint sting to them. How had the man managed to slip—even slightly—beneath his mental armor? Were they both not simply being practical?

The human was walking away, apparently to confront their latest enemy, and Jarlaxle dismissed his thoughts so he could prepare for the coming battle.

Entreri headed in the direction he knew Socor to have taken. He wasn't in the mood to play games; he wasn't even in the mood to taunt. He just wanted to kill the troublesome wizard and be done with it. Still, he and Jarlaxle utilized a great deal of stealth in their attempt to track the man, although they suspected it wouldn't matter. A simple scrying spell would inform their adversary of their approach.

Sure enough, Socor was awaiting them in the woods beyond the far side of the town. "Shall we settle this?" the mage called.

Entreri and Jarlaxle traded looks and stepped into the clearing with Socor. "Yes, let us kill you and be on with our business," the assassin retorted.

Socor smiled. "On the contrary! I'm going to retrieve my token and then usher you both on down into the nine hells."

"So the token was of great importance to you," Entreri commented with a telling smirk. Perhaps he would indulge in one small taunt after all.

Socor hissed in rage and made a beckoning motion with his hand. A bone devil stepped out from among the trees and growled at the assassin. For a brief moment the man reconsidered his habit of taunting his victims.

Jarlaxle briefly signaled that he would take the wizard, but Entreri had little time to acknowledge it. The hideous creature, with its dried skin stretched taunt over its protruding skeleton, stalked toward the assassin and snapped its scorpion-like tail his way. Entreri dodged the strike and drew his weapons, all the while cursing the wizard for his foresight.

Magic missiles erupted to Entreri's side as the wizard focused his attention upon Jarlaxle; the assassin didn't even bother to look, knowing the mercenary had plenty of tricks with which to cover himself. A flash of lightning arched toward Socor a moment later, no doubt from one of Jarlaxle's many wands, but it hit nothing. Displacement spell, Entreri noted, and then a profound magical silence dropped upon the clearing.

The bone devil charged the assassin, striking out with its poisonous tail again. The assassin jumped clear at the last moment, but his nose was assaulted by the foul air of decay that surrounded the creature. Wretched beast, he thought with disgust as he slashed out with Charon's Claw. His initial attack had little effect. The creature made a swipe at him with its claws as he passed, but Entreri ducked it. The bone devil immediately lashed out with its tail, so the assassin had to spring straight up from his crouched position into a high vault, tucking his legs in order to clear the tail. Even before his feet touched the ground again he struck out with the sword once more.

To his right, Jarlaxle was keeping Socor busy, although neither the wizard nor the mercenary had managed to harm the other. Having adjusted for Socor's displacement spell, Jarlaxle showered the wizard with a hail of daggers, and the speed of his throws seemed to have almost doubled. Unfortunately, Socor was well prepared with a stoneskin spell.

Entreri's third strike at the bone devil scored a minor hit, drawing a fine slash along the creature's arm. It howled in pain—the sound rendered mute by Jarlaxle's magical silence—and lashed out with the other arm and its tail simultaneously. The assassin dodged the tail but couldn't entirely clear the arm, and as a result he was hit squarely in the shoulder and knocked to the side. That will bruise, he noted, blocking a claw-slash with his dagger.

But a moment later he had much more to think about, for the magical silence lifted. Socor yelled in victory and shouted a spell: "Socor-rame!"

Entreri frowned, for he'd never heard such a spell before and knew it had to be Socor's dangerous "legacy" spell. He cringed, but there was nothing he could do because the bone devil repeatedly lashed at him. Still, from the edge of his vision, Entreri could see Socor throw his right hand outward in the motions of a spell, and a red tornado of tiny shimmering spheres seemed to erupt from his palm. Jarlaxle tried to jump clear, but the tornado tracked him much like a magic missile would. The assassin yelled out, and several of Jarlaxle's trinkets, as well as the band on his hat, glowed red for an instant. Much to Entreri's surprise, and apparently also Jarlaxle's, his magical defenses absorbed the attack.

Socor cursed and repeated the spell. "Socor-rame!" This time, at the last possible moment, he turned and aimed at Entreri's back, and the assassin, busy fighting off an enraged bone devil, had no way to defend himself.

Entreri managed one thought in that eternal second, and that thought had nothing to do with death, which he'd never truly feared. Instead his mind turned to the brilliant and clever mercenary he had so respected professionally, the elf he had dared to begin to think of as a friend: I wonder if Jarlaxle will even attempt to save me.