Chapter Nine

"What?" the already-irritated Entreri snapped. "Tell me what happened!"

Jarlaxle was frowning, his brow creased. "I'm not entirely sure. Tai had gone to the store for supplies—"

"You let him separate from us, knowing Socor is nearby?" Entreri scowled.

Jarlaxle glared at him. "Are we his keepers, then, assassin?" He shook his head when Entreri's scowl deepened. "I heard a commotion in the street and went to investigate. I ran outside just in time to witness the end of a battle—Tai and Socor were fighting. Socor won. When he saw me, Socor hit me with a spell I did not recognize and escaped with the boy."

Entreri was furious, although he wasn't sure about what or at whom. The dark cloud that had hung over him earlier as he'd pondered the past seemed to swell and claim him. Entreri sheathed his weapons and motioned for the elf to follow him to their room. He didn't care to have Hector observe their discussion. Once the door was safely shut behind them, the assassin faced Jarlaxle again. The mercenary looked distinctly unhappy.

Entreri opened his mouth to speak, but the question that came out surprised even him. "Do you think Tai survived?"

Jarlaxle was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I believe so. I have no way of knowing for sure, but it appeared that Tai was merely knocked unconscious."

"Bait?" Entreri asked.

"It is possible."

"Or Socor killed him once he escaped you." The assassin was grim.

Jarlaxle watched him for several moments, and then smiled as though very pleased. A familiar gleam lit his eyes. "So do we rush to save him, Artemis Entreri?"

The gleam was a bit too familiar. Entreri's stomach seemed to sink as a wave of comprehension crashed into him, and the force of the disappointment seemed to kick the assassin in the chest. What he'd said to Tai about Jarlaxle had been correct, for nothing had truly changed. "It's all still a game to you." It was a calm, flat statement that conveyed ten thousand words in less than ten, and all those words spoke of disappointment and betrayal.

The mercenary was so taken off guard that he jerked slightly backwards. "What are you about?"

"That look," Entreri explained. "It's almost the look of a drow who's orchestrated an entire scenario just to manipulate my actions and see how I'll respond."

"I have done no such thing!"

"I didn't say that you had, only that you're acting as if you could have." Entreri crossed his arms and stared hard at the elf. "You're more interested in my response than Tai's life. You're wondering if all your combined manipulations and influences have had an effect."

The mercenary glared at him. "I have an understandable curiosity over your decision, but that does not equate—"

"We are not pawns or tools," Entreri interrupted. "We are not here for your amusement. I can accept good business sense, I can accept looking out for your own interests and working toward your own gain. But if you cannot see and accept me as a person, then our paths diverge here."

Jarlaxle experienced a moment of shattering insight. He had wasted his time—a mistake almost unprecedented for the clever mercenary. Entreri had already maximized his ability to befriend and trust another being, and ultimately the man was basically incapable of either. Strange, however, that when the moment of betrayal came it wasn't a matter of life-or-death. Instead, it was an ultimatum. Strange also was the sting of regret, almost pain that he felt. "I have abided by our previous unspoken agreement, Artemis Entreri. Truly, you are the most suspicious and angry creature I have ever known. I do not consider you a pawn or tool, nor am I trying to—"

"You are already lying again." The assassin smirked. "As I told you before, I am well aware that you see everyone as a tool—controllable and expendable. Do you think I have forgotten? Given that fact, why would I be any different to you?" An unreadable expression passed across the man's face momentarily, but it vanished instantly.

Jarlaxle narrowed his eyes. "I am being lectured on my ability to forge connections with others by a man who insisted upon being such a loner that he did not even wish to have any business partners? The man who so obviously believed that having a fighting companion would prove a weakness?"

"And I am being lectured by a drow so paranoid that he insists upon remaining a total mystery to everyone around him?" Entreri retorted. "Are you not a loner as well? Do you really believe that you are forging connections with others by simply surrounding yourself with a group of associates? If you cannot trust a single one of them and cannot see them as anything but tools, then you are as alone as I."

Jarlaxle felt a burning in his chest he couldn't quite identify. "And by this argument you would judge me?"

"No, but perhaps I should, for you are ultimately the more alone. After all, I am a loner by conscious choice—you are unknowingly a loner by method." Entreri started to continue, but he clenched his jaw for a moment as though he didn't wish to speak the words. After a pause, he resumed. "Likewise, I am here with you now," he said quietly. "But in a manner of speaking, you are not here with me."

Untrue! Jarlaxle started to respond, but his own thought shocked him to the point he couldn't speak. Suddenly, all his ponderings upon Entreri and the concepts of friendship, loyalty, and manipulation seemed to collide in his mind in one tangled wreck.

Entreri turned to leave.

"What of Tai?" Jarlaxle called after him.

"What, indeed?" Entreri asked as he turned back. "I refuse to perform for you."

"Perform? When have I ever so used you or harmed you?"

The assassin's expression was grim, indeed. "You do not wish for me to answer that." He presented his profile to Jarlaxle and stared at the floor. "You do not really care what happens to Tai. And neither do I."

Entreri left then, and to Jarlaxle, everything about the situation seemed wrong. And it was wrong, Jarlaxle realized as he examined his own reactions. He liked Tai and did not want to see the clever boy die. But what of Entreri and his accusations?

From the wreck of thoughts in his mind, one simple truth emerged: amidst the chaos and intrigue of drow society, a young Jarlaxle had clung to a single concept: self-empowerment and prosperity. He'd pulled himself up out of near-nothingness, his sight ever upon both the short- and long-term goals. And yet the odd streak in him had been unsatisfied, had always been searching—for greater adventure and gain he'd thought. But perhaps underneath all his other desires and goals, Jarlaxle secretly wanted a friend. Someone who he could respect and trust. Someone similar to Zaknafein.

Jarlaxle frowned, unhappy with this revelation and the vulnerability it caused. Then a thought struck the drow: his argument with the assassin had occurred because Entreri had misinterpreted Jarlaxle's words as a betrayal of their unofficial "treaty." However, in the face of this "betrayal," the assassin hadn't reacted with violence, which proved that Entreri's recent acts of loyalty toward Jarlaxle were indeed based on friendship. Apparently, the assassin's anger resulted from feeling defensive and vulnerable over this loyalty.

Jarlaxle experienced a second sensation in his chest, but this time it didn't hurt. Instead, it was an oddly warm feeling. "You fool," he whispered with little heat, and he realized he was implicating himself as much as he was Entreri. They were both having the same reaction for almost the same reasons.

But of course! Jarlaxle chided himself with a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. He'd almost done it again—he'd almost allowed his past experiences to rule him, but he'd overcome it. Now all he had to do was find Entreri and exert some diplomacy to smooth things over.

They needed to save Tai.

Entreri concealed himself in the woods behind the inn and tried to clear his mind. He sat on a tree stump and simply allowed the warm afternoon breeze to wash over him, tried to focus on the sounds of the rustling leaves and chirping birds and drive out all distracting thoughts. Unfortunately he failed miserably, for the issue of Tai and Jarlaxle wouldn't leave him be.

How he really felt about Tai's abduction was the difficult part. After a moment's thought, he acknowledged he liked the boy despite the fact he was a priest who had tried to convert him.

The assassin frowned and shook his head, deciding to deal with the second problem first. Jarlaxle. His argument with mercenary, he felt, was a moot point. Still, it all boiled down to a matter of trust, and that meant—

The assassin stopped mid-thought and frowned. His argument with Jarlaxle and his reluctant reflections on his childhood all had the same theme: trust. His father had betrayed him terribly—he had turned to him in perversion, and worse still, had allowed his uncle to do the same. From that moment on, he'd not trusted anyone; in fact, he'd often betrayed others first in order to protect himself. In other words, he had allowed this experience to rule his entire life! Entreri's breath seemed to freeze in his chest with the realization. Every decision he'd ever made, every belief he'd ever held, every action he'd ever taken had been fueled by his sense of betrayal coupled with the drive for survival.

Entreri sighed, the truth weighing heavily on him. He'd carried that mindset into the streets with him; he'd carried it all his life. Not only that—he'd gone so far as to believe that if he had to save himself, then everyone else should also if they deserved their life.

By that philosophy, Tai didn't deserve to be rescued.

But that was letting his past rule him, Entreri realized, and that could prove to be a weakness. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place in the assassin's mind. And Tai had been right: it wasn't about self-righteousness or blind justice. It was simply a matter of doing what he knew should be done.

Entreri nodded to himself, dismissed all further thoughts, and left to find Jarlaxle. This proved easier than he expected, for when he stepped out of the woods he found that the elf was halfway across the backyard of the inn, apparently trying to find him. Entreri walked up to Jarlaxle, and the two simply locked gazes for several moments. Somehow, they had to make peace, but Entreri couldn't imagine either one of them apologizing. Still, as he matched the elf's gaze, he recognized that the mercenary was no longer angry, realized that they were feeling much the same way. And most importantly, they were of like mind concerning what to do next. Jarlaxle nodded solemnly, and when Entreri inclined his head in return, the elf smiled and clasped his shoulder.

"Shall we?" Jarlaxle asked, gesturing toward the road, and his signature mischievous twinkle once again alighted in his eyes.