Chapter 8

The red tape

"Number seventy-eight."

Elene turned her head slightly, watching as an old dwarf eased himself off the bench next to hers and shuffled down the corridor leading to a suite of offices. A door opened with a creak once he was out of sight. Sighing, she dropped her gaze to the slip of paper in her hand. The numbers eight and one scrawled there serve as a reminder that while she could charge a stockade of slavers with a sword in hand, she felt uncomfortably powerless in an administrative building.

Her discomfort was made worse from lack of rest. They say elves did not dream haphazardly in reverie, but she certainly didn't choose to conjure up the spectres of last night in her rest. Statues reminding her of those who fell because of her. And Imoen stood in that macabre stone garden, arm outstretched, before her own skin hardened and turned grey as if caught in a basilisk's gaze. It was a miracle Jaheira hadn't been jarred awake by her sobs when she surfaced from the nightmare. The trip to the nearest Temple of Oghma calmed her somewhat, the place deserted but peaceful at dawn – a gem of a place she'd discovered completely by accident days earlier. Even the calming reminder of her home could not scrub away the lingering feel of inevitability from the dream, though.

"Won't be much longer, my lady."

Anomen gave her a small smile as she glanced at him. He seemed more at ease on that hard bench than her, kitted as he was in full armour.

"You seem…accustomed to this," she pointed out.

He chuckled softly, the perennial wrinkle on his brow easing as he did. "I spent five years in a seminary. Sitting on pews for hours on end came with the territory."

Despite herself, she smiled. "I imagine the benches in Helmite temples are even more unforgiving."

"Hah. You have no idea."

They settled into companionable silence, and the chafing impatience building in her chest eased somewhat after the short exchange. Four others sat scattered about the waiting area. She kept her head down, wondering if this endeavour was a waste of time. She'd agreed with Jaheira that they needed to find alternative avenues to Gaelan Bayle and the ominously named Renal Bloodscalp. What she hadn't counted on was wasting what might be hours just waiting to see someone who could offer a legal, or at least semi-legal solution to their problem. They had a choice between the magistrate and the Cowled Wizards, and Elene had chosen the harder path of marching up to Imoen's very captors to try to get a clear answer from them.

The group had split up upon entering the Government District earlier in the morning. Just as they'd been told by Bernard at the Copper Coronet, the administrative area of Athkatla was a sprawling place, filled with tall buildings and bureaucrats. The streets were straight, wide, and neatly arranged, the greenery beautiful and manicured. Even the air felt cleaner there.

"Say, Anomen. Your home wouldn't be one of those houses over there, would it?" Yoshimo had grinned as he made a sweeping gesture at the imposing manors dotting the district.

"Why are you asking?" Anomen frowned. "Looking for an easy target to burgle?"

Yoshimo shrugged, unperturbed. "You seem as though you're from around here, that's all."

The dark look that crossed Anomen's features at his words gave Elene pause. Yoshimo had struck a nerve. Her curiosity made her itch to ask him if it was true, but she'd held her tongue then. Now that she was alone with him, maybe she could start digging.

"Does your family live in this district?" she asked Anomen in the lull.

His lips thinned at the question. But he relented with an answer. "My family manor is to the west of here. Near the district exit."

She thought of her own family. Foster father dead, sister imprisoned. And a horde of murderous half-siblings who would happily kill her given the chance. "Do you have a big family?"

"Just my sister." He paused. "And father."

"Ah. Well, if you'd like to stop over later…"

"No."

Elene swallowed. At his sharp answer, she decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

Anomen cleared his throat, belatedly realising the harshness of his tone. "And what of you, my lady? You mentioned you hailed from Candlekeep. From my knowledge, 'tis a veritable fortress of knowledge. You must have had interesting years growing up."

"Interesting for me, perhaps," she replied with a soft smile, grateful for his segue. She thought of the Inner Keep, of sprawling circular chambers in the upper floors covered from floor to ceiling with books. "The library is as vast as the tales paint it to be. It would have taken me a lifetime to go through every book and scroll on the shelves."

"What made you leave?"

She lowered her gaze. "My father received word that…old enemies may threaten us if we stayed. He was right about the enemy. But mistaken in thinking that being on the run would keep us safe."

The afterimage of Gorion, his body rent asunder by a greatsword, flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath to steady herself. That had been months ago, but the pain in her chest hadn't dulled by much. There had barely been time to grieve for him. Every day since then had been about survival and staying one move ahead of Sarevok. Her father's killer, her own brother, a crazed fanatic who'd wanted her dead at all costs.

She'd had the last laugh in the end. But it didn't bring Gorion back.

"I…I'm sorry to hear that, my lady. That he is not with you must mean the worst."

She nodded, comforted by his sincerity. He was a good sort, this Anomen. "Imoen was from Candlekeep, too. She left home to follow me." She let out a short huff. "Although, she'd been chomping at the bit to leave the place for years."

Anomen's features turned thoughtful. "You must feel responsible for her."

"In a way."

"I can understand the sentiment. But I can't help but wonder. You mentioned an offer from Yoshimo's contact. If this…" Anomen glanced around. "…Cowled Wizard official is unable to assist us, what course would you be willing to take to get her back?"

For a while, Elene quietly straightened the crease in the slip of paper she held. He'd asked the same question that kept her up at night, ever since the meeting with Gaelan Bayle. Imoen was her sister in all but blood. What wouldn't she do for Imoen? She was no stranger to murder, theft, and subterfuge. When the situation called for it, she would do what needed doing, without pride nor prejudice. Yet conversations with Xan echoed in her memory, on the cost of her actions, given her legacy steeped in blood. Did she have the luxury to take the higher road in her desperate circumstance?

"I haven't given it much thought," she replied instead.

Anomen gave her a sidelong look. She wondered if Helmite priests could detect lies. "My lady, I hope that we will walk the righteous path on this quest of yours. I pray that Helm will watch over Imoen while we work towards securing her freedom."

She nodded, opting not to mention that prayers never got much done for her so far.

Almost an hour had ticked by when her number was finally called by the nasal office administrator perched at a desk of overflowing paperwork. Elene smoothed her tunic over, a presentable green outfit she'd procured with gold won from taking down the slaver ring. Her boots were also new, firm heels clicking satisfactorily on the marbled floor as she and Anomen made their way to the office of a Cowled Wizard representative to the government. Jaheira's warning echoed in her ears, to keep all signs of her own magical inclination out of sight.

Remember. You're a concerned sister raising a complaint.

A plaque with 'Corneil, Cowled Wizard Representative' was stuck to the door, just above her eye level. Pausing at the door, she shot a nervous look at Anomen before knocking. A gruff 'enter' resounded from the other side. Elene warily let herself in, keeping her senses on alert as she took in the mahogany finishing of the office interior. Corneil kept his curtains only partway drawn, leaving the room darkened even as the sun shone brightly outside. Her nose caught the familiar scent of vellum and old paper. The walls were lined from end to end with bookshelves which made her fingers itch and displays arrayed with wands and what looked to be magical components. For a moment, she almost felt like she was back in Candlekeep. She could spend days in here just devouring all the books.

Corneil himself was unimposing, a man of slight build who clearly spent far too many hours hunched over a desk. The paleness of his skin went well with his light grey eyes. His eyes seemed to almost shine in the candles' gloom, and those shrewd eyes followed them until they settled in the two chairs before his broad desk.

"Make it quick, I have many appointments lined up today," Corneil gestured at Anomen.

Elene inhaled slowly, ignoring the slight. "A pearl to you, sir. We're here to ask you about a woman taken into the custody of the Cowled Wizards seven days ago. During the…incident at Waukeen's Promenade."

Corneil quirked an eyebrow. "What about it? She was using magic without a license. Almost a dozen witnesses verified the account."

"I am not refuting the facts, sir. The woman is my sister. It's just that she didn't know magic is illegal here. We weren't even aware we were in Athkatla."

"Ignorance is not a defence, madam. She had broken the law and this city, and the right punishment has been meted out," he shot back, his tone cooling. "If that's all you're here for, I suggest you stop wasting my time."

Elene began to feel heat rise in her cheeks. "Hold on, what is her sentence? How long is she to be imprisoned?"

"For as long as she needs to be. Magic is dangerous without proper training. Hers will need to be satisfactorily brought to heel before she can be released."

"What does that mean?"

Her question was met with a stony gaze. She tried again.

"Is there no avenue for appeal? Any other recourse? What if I were to buy her a license now?"

Corneil snorted. "Far too late for that, I'm afraid. Assuming you can even afford one."

Out of the corner of her eye, Anomen began to lean forward in his seat. He looked about as insulted as she felt.

"Look here…" he began.

"How much for the magic license?" she cut him off.

Corneil almost smiled. "Five thousand gold. Each."

Elene blinked. That was a fourth of the fee needed to extract Imoen from these tyrants. Verily, Athkatla was the City of Coin. She schooled her features into something neutral, refusing to react to Corneil's smug expression. "Is there no way to lower the fee?"

"It is not up for bargaining."

"I can work for you," Elene eased off her seat, a hand on his desk. "Earn it. Earn her freedom."

"And what sort of work can you perform, hmm? We have no need for a common adventurer with your blind fumbling. The work of the Cowled Wizards is beyond what your meagre minds can imagine." Corneil tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. "Now, unless you have five thousand gold right this moment, I think our business is concluded."

"You Cowled Wizards take the law into your own hands. There is no justice in this," Anomen spat.

"Take it up with the Council," Corneil retorted.

Elene whirled out of the room, not waiting for Anomen. Her hands balled into fists, and even then, she could feel them shaking with impotent anger at the outcome of the meeting. Helpless. Useless. She walked briskly, putting one foot in front of the other until the sun was warm on her skin. Men and women gave her a wide berth as she stormed away from the government building, to seek refuge in a shady cove not far from the entrance.

The brick wall was cool as she leaned against it, tilting her head back. With nary a cloud in sight, the blue expanse of the sky helped calm her, now that she was a safe distance away from that blowhard bureaucrat. Had he remained in her line of sight another second, she would have reached over to break his smile as easily as she'd broken many other things as she carved her way through the Sword Coast. Her rage was an almost tangible thing of late, and she struggled to rein it in, especially in moments like this.

She heard Anomen before he appeared in her periphery.

"Those Cowled scum think they own this city, constantly trying to better their positions at the cost of others. Meagre minds, bah!" The vitriol in his voice could corrode steel if fully unleashed. "If I had the power, I would throw him into the very prison he threatens mages with!"

As he continued his blistering tirade, she kept her gaze focused upward and kept her silence. A particularly puffy cloud began to move east with the wind. No hope of rain today. No relief from this damnable heat. After a few breaths of her not reacting to his presence, Anomen fell silent. He stepped closer; his features creased with concern.

"My lady?"

Elene exhaled, letting some of her frustration out with it. "Jaheira was right. It was a long shot."

His lips thinned at that, but he didn't disagree. So, he shared the same thought all along and still chose to accompany her. After all, she'd been the one insisting on trying their luck with the Cowled Wizards. The only thing she'd taken away from the meeting are that Imoen's incarceration could be indefinite and that it would cost a fortune for her to cast magic again, while in the city. Hardly helpful leads. Yet knowing with certainty did funnel her next course of action neatly in one direction. Even if it was a dark, dank corner.

"Maybe the others had better luck. Magistrate Bylanna is a good woman. She would help us if it was within her power to do so," said Anomen.

For a moment, Elene thought of Ulraunt, the Keeper of the Tomes in Candlekeep. How power had warped his sense of justice, and he in turn wielded his authority to enforce his twisted world view. The funnel narrowed further in her mind, like a noose tightening.

Elene pushed off the wall. "We'll find out soon enough."

They didn't speak much on the way back to the Copper Coronet. Anomen seemed to sense her dark mood, though she kept her features outwardly impassive. Inside her mind, the gears were turning in overdrive, wondering where the Cowled Wizards kept their prisoners. What did Corneil mean by 'brought to heel'? Did they run some form of rehabilitation centre? But how does one rehabilitate magic users? Magic was not an illness. For many, it was a gift they were born with. Her worry for Imoen kept growing the deeper she spiralled into speculation. They needed to find a way to her, and fast.

The lunch crowd had thinned by the time they arrived at the inn. Hendak had significantly upped the standards of the Coronet once he'd scrubbed the place clean on Lehtinan and his ilk. Work was already beginning on the slave cells in the back rooms, to convert them into a lounge where music will be played on select evenings. Some of the women enslaved had talent with musical instruments and in dancing. Plying their trade in music was a step change from selling their bodies, and Elene could see a few of them dotted about the common room, entertaining customers with a tale or a song.

The entire atmosphere of the place had changed from a seedy, downtrodden tavern to something warmer and more welcoming. Over time, Elene suspected the clientele would change as well, as Hendak had made it clear that prostitution, lotus and gladiatorial fights had no place in his establishment.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Elene's eyes zeroed in on the table in the corner and was buoyed to find Jaheira and Yoshimo already seated at their usual spot. As Hendak's champions, they had an open tab at the kitchen and the bar and could come and go as they pleased. An unexpected benefit from sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

"How did it go?" Elene asked without preamble as she dropped into the seat opposite Jaheira.

Jaheira shot her a wry look. "What do you think?"

Elene leaned forward, frowning. "Nothing?"

"Oh, the Magistrate offered her sympathies," Yoshimo replied mildly.

Anomen glared at him.

"Apparently, the executive branch in this city is responsible for all matters of law enforcement except for those relating to magic." Jaheira harrumphed. "That is within the sole remit of the Cowled Wizards. I had a sense that Magistrate Bylanna's attempts to meddle in their affairs had not ended well in the past. She was singularly unwilling to reopen the case, despite the niceties she offered."

"How can she just push it aside? There is an injustice done here," argued Anomen.

Jaheira's eyes flickered to Elene briefly, as if to say, if you're not going to say something, I will.

"I think…" Elene jumped in to forestall her. Jaheira's tongue can be wicked in a foul mood. "It's beyond her authority to interfere. My father used to say bureaucracy is the greatest evil ever invented."

Yoshimo smirked. "Wise man, your father."

"Be that as it may." Anomen shook his head, discomfiture evident in his features. "The law is supposed to defend the weak. Not oppress them."

In principle, perhaps. Elene thought back to her encounter with the Flaming Fist in Baldur's Gate. A military force, the shining law enforcement arm of the city, twisted to serve Sarevok's vile purpose before the end. All tools can be corrupted to suit the user's needs. She hoped Anomen would learn that morbid lesson soon enough, rather than stick to the tenets of his Order so strictly. It would complicate things for their group to have to reconcile what they would need to do with his burdening conscience.

She lowered her gaze. What about her conscience, though?

Yoshimo glanced at her thoughtfully. As though reading her mind, he spoke, "Sometimes the world does not work the way it's supposed to, young samurai. That is where people like me and our friends here make ends meet, hmm?"

Ever pragmatic, Jaheira seized the opportunity to move away from moralising talk. "Bylanna did mention opportunities for adventurers."

"That's a sight better than what we got," said Elene.

Sighing, Elene began to share the outcome of the meeting with Corneil. His apathy, Imoen's fate and the cost to secure her own license she laid bare before her friends. She watched Jaheira's face grow increasingly drawn as she spoke. None of this was surprising to the other woman, who was likely already thinking of contingencies and countermoves. Yoshimo, meanwhile, chewed languidly on a piece of fruit, as though waiting for the foregone conclusion. His only reaction of note was to the cost of the magic license – a low whistle and a dark chuckle.

"Makes you wonder who the real thieves in this city are," he remarked with a grin.

Elene's lips twitched in appreciation of his humour. It was sorely needed.

"It appears you'll have to continue working with that handicap for the time being, until we muster the gold for it," mused Jaheira.

Handicap indeed. I feel as though I have only one arm left to fight with.

"What's this about other opportunities? Did Bylanna point the way?" Anomen wanted to know.

"The garrison has a notice out for a few bounties," Jaheira began.

Yoshimo huffed. "Small fish. Would barely net a pittance, compared to the effort required."

Jaheira pursed her lips, evidently in agreement. "Beyond that, there is a Lord looking for mercenaries to clear his land of deserters from the Sythillisan forces. Though that would take us far beyond the city, to the Windspear hills in the eastern reach."

"Do you speak of Lord Jierdan Firkraag?" Anomen raised an eyebrow. "I hear he has ample forces to deal with such a nuisance. Seems odd for him to be calling for mercenaries for what seems to be a simple task."

"Maybe he doesn't want to spare his own men for it," Elene shrugged.

"And let's not forget that some people are in possession of more gold than sense," said Yoshimo.

"Either way…" Jaheira levelled Elene a meaningful glance. "It will be slow going chasing one bounty at a time. And doing it in this manner may gain the favour of the guard, but I doubt they can do much to help us in our pressing task."

Elene began picking at a loose knot in her gauntlet. "Unlike our shadowy friends."

Anomen held up a hand. "Surely you're not proposing we cavort with hoodlums and thieves in this. There's no honour in such an association."

"Perhaps not." Elene raised her eyes to look at him. "But I am not here for honour, Anomen. I'm here for my sister."

"I hear tell the Bloodscalp has honour of his own especially when you get on his good side. He's not afraid of a little red tape, besides," Yoshimo added. "Hard to imagine Bylanna's sort to step in when we really need them. Meeting her reminded me of an old saying where I come from: evil triumphs when good men do nothing."

"Words twisted to suit one's purpose, no doubt," Anomen sneered.

Jaheira rapped the table once to forestall the brewing argument. "Regardless, we stand at a crossroad here. Ideally, we'd try as many avenues as we can, but between the four of us, we'd be stretched thin. We can't hope to play both sides in the long run."

Yoshimo crossed his arms and leaned back. "You know my preference."

"And mine. We can't take the law into our own hands simply because it suits us," Anomen shot back.

Elene watched the two men closely, both with tensed shoulders and a frisson of tension flashing between them. A budding knight from an Order of paladins and the devil-may-care bounty hunter, bound to come to blows sooner or later if they don't find common ground. Once again, she wondered if she'd made the right choice in bringing Anomen into their fold. Grimacing slightly, she turned to Jaheira.

"We don't have to decide right this moment," said Jaheira, surprising her.

Then she saw the shadows under the other woman's eyes, her unusually pallid skin. While she'd had the benefit of following Jan in fencing their goods, Jaheira was left to hold the fort with Hendak and manage Anomen and Yoshimo. The strain was beginning to show on the druid, who'd always shouldered the burden of leadership, pushing them on, corralling the most hard-headed among them even when their minds and bodies were against them. How difficult must it be, to always be in that role? To always have to make the hard decisions?

Well. She was about to find out.

"I think we should have a chat with the Bloodscalp," said Elene.

Yoshimo perked up immediately, his eyes brightening as they met hers. By her side, Anomen twisted in his seat to remonstrate. "My lady, this is a slippery slope. One 'chat' with such miscreants will lead to more unsavoury acts, mark my words."

"I understand your concern but…" she grappled for her next words. A dozen platitudes flashed through her mind, all the things she could say to persuade him, appeal to his better nature somehow. In the end, though, she decided on honesty. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I'd dismissed a route that could lead me to Imoen sooner. At least…I need to try."

She expected Anomen to bluster on. Argue. Try again to convince her. Yet as he studied her features, he eased back, a contemplative cast softening the hard lines of his face. Eventually, he sighed. "As you wish, my lady. I will abide by your decision. I only hope it will not bring us to ruin."

You and me both.

Vaguely, she felt the heat of Jaheira's gaze boring into the side of her head. Flicking her eyes to the other woman, she thought she caught a flicker of…respect? Then just as quickly, it was gone, as Jaheira clasped the clay mug in front of her in deep thought. Elene forced herself to relax, wondering if she'd just passed some sort of assessment. Ever since she'd met her and Khalid at the Friendly Arm Inn all those months ago, she always felt on the verge of disappointing her newfound guardians, one way or another.

"What about you?" she asked.

Jaheira gave her a small smile. "I am with you in this. Every day Imoen remains in the grasp of those villains is a stain on my conscience as well."

Relief flooded through her. Though she'd railed and fought to earn the right to be deemed an adult in her group initially, a part of her would always crave Jaheira's approval. A silly thing, but there it was. Still, with Jaheira's blessing, she felt more at ease to accept that she will have to get her hands dirty. She can worry about what that could mean in the long run later, once Imoen is safely by her side. And not a moment before that.