Chapter 16

The hand that feeds

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Incense burned in the small cauldron in the corner. The smoke wafted through the space emptied by uncomfortable silence. As spacious and handsome as the room was, perched uncomfortably on that plush settee, Elene's armour felt constricting, the weapons on her belt a paltry solace. It almost felt as though the walls themselves were slowly closing in on her. She suspected the sensation of being trapped had a lot to do with the surgical gaze she was being subjected to.

Right. She had to stay calm.

She couldn't afford to screw up.

"I did as you asked," she blurted. "There were simply too many of them."

Viconia didn't let up with her stare, her eyes like burning rubies scorching away every layer of concealment she'd built up for her charade thus far. Swallowing, Elene fought hard once again not to fidget. This was a drow technique, surely. Never had she felt so naked under a person's stare before. The vampires' attack on their warehouse had been an unmitigated disaster with heavy losses in personnel and wares. But so far, she'd personally done everything right, submitted all the reports, kept the dead drops to Jassa under tight secrecy. Even so, she doubted that she was called here in the night just for small talk.

Something was up.

"I heard you the first time, jalil. If I didn't believe you, you wouldn't be sitting there with all your innards intact," Viconia spoke at last, condescension thick in her voice.

Elene frowned despite the glimmer of relief. "Then why am I here? Why was I told to come alone?"

The sigh that escaped her drow superior was both supremely elegant and utterly fed up. "Mae'var wishes to see you."

Trepidation filled her at the thought of venturing back into Mae'var's little workshop of horrors. Alone. Would she have to sit through another of his torture sessions just for him to delegate the job of overseeing her to someone else? Or did he have something more nefarious in mind this time around? Was her cover blown?

"Why?"

"I don't pretend to know how his mind works. He's fickle even on the best of days. Normally, I am happy to let pawns like you stroll to their doom unaware, but…" Viconia studied her again. "Since you've been such a useful pawn so far, I am loathe to let you die so trivially."

Ah. So that was why she was summoned beforehand. Elene paused when she realised she'd unconsciously leaned forward. "I'm listening."

Viconia's smile was sharp. "My information comes at a price."

And there it was. After weeks of being at Viconia's beck and call, she was finally worthy of receiving something in return other than gold and insults. A game was afoot, and the drow now wanted her on the same team to play it. What could she offer, she wondered? Muscle, yes. Brains, certainly. But there must be something unique to her that Viconia was seeking to capitalise on for her own wicked ambition.

She had a decent idea by now what that could be in that fetid den of rats.

"For which I will pay in loyalty."

Viconia laughed, both pleased and amused. "You're clever for a surfacer. I believe we understand each other quite well then." Then she rose from her seat to sit close to Elene, with voice lowered to an intimate whisper that only another elf could hear. She smelled faintly of jasmine. "Now listen closely. Mae'var is consolidating his base of power, reshuffling his lieutenants after the last failure at the warehouse. I doubt that fool Grimvar will outlive the day given his last showing, though his demise is a long time coming. Where there is bloodletting, there is opportunity."

"But you're already a lieutenant," Elene pointed out.

"Only a fool would believe that could last." Viconia huffed. "I know very well I occupy this position for as long as I can amuse him in the bedchamber and present ideas for his newest plots. The others, those who had served him longer, they envy me. They would jump at the chance to put their knives in my back. But unlike them, I am going to make the first move."

Ideas for his newest plots…so Viconia was in on it then. She would know his deepest, darkest plans.

"How?"

"Through you, of course," she purred. "That he has called for you personally speaks volumes. In you, he sees efficiency, competence. Especially with the praises I've been heaping on you. All done with a purpose."

"I hope you're not expecting me to assassinate his other lieutenants," Elene told her.

"Don't be a clod," Viconia snapped. "There are tools other than murder at our disposal. All I need is for you to remain competent. Edge into his inner circle as much as you can. And report to me what you find along the way. But…be wary of the man himself." Viconia shot her a measuring look. "Even if you're unwilling to cede completely to his will, you must make a show of bending the knee. He will not accept anything less."

Elene's brows furrowed. What does that mean? As if she would be anything other than subservient to Mae'var. "I can do that."

"Of course you will, if you wish to keep your head. It's time for you to go, jalil, he's already in his office. Listen carefully to what he says, and what he does not say," Viconia tucked a loose strand behind Elene's ear in an almost playful gesture, like petting a favourite animal. "And don't even think of betraying me to that viper Anishai, or your death will be a blessing by the time it comes."

Nodding, Elene slid to her feet as quickly as she could, leaving Viconia's decorated abode behind. She passed by a shrine to Shar in the corridor as she half-scampered for the stairs. Evidently, the drow was getting comfortable here. There was no way she was going to give up her position without a fight. Given her cunning, Viconia was the best route to Mae'var's secrets. She must know where the guildmaster kept his dirt. The fact that she worried about her place in the hierarchy gave Elene cause for concern, though. Did Mae'var find another plaything that could distract him from his prize drow? This could spell trouble for their budding alliance.

The guildhouse was exceptionally sombre that night. None of the usual faces loitered near the stairs or draped over the settees in the waiting areas. The massacre at the east warehouse had sobered all their operatives. Their every operation was on high alert, waiting for any sign of attack. They were now on the back foot, having a rival guild strike at the heart of their turf. She was glad she delivered the news via a note and not in person. She didn't doubt that they'd be short one operations lieutenant by morning.

Mae'var's office was, contrary to popular opinion, not situated in the dungeon. He kept a small well-guarded section on the first floor, a windowless room heavily fortified with traps. From what she'd heard, he often spent the night there too. She gave a curt nod to the two enforcers by his door. Like the guards at the Bloodscalp's headquarter, they only made note of her weapons but let her in without comment.

Elene blinked as she entered Mae'var's office. The lighting here was much brighter than outside, several wall sconces complementing the tasteful hanging light at the centre of the room. In the seconds it took for her eyes to adjust, she quickly noted the bookshelves, a storage chest, and a bed in one corner. The well-equipped lair of a consummate workaholic. Perhaps the chest was where he kept his documents, but somehow that seemed too obvious. Averting her eyes before she got called out for her curiosity, she turned her attention to the sleek mahogany desk next to the bed, where her intimidating superior sat, his expression inscrutable.

"I read your report," Mae'var said without preamble.

Likewise not giving anything away, Elene only nodded, standing at attention to await his inevitable questioning. So far so good – no one in the guildhouse has yet figured out who she truly worked for. A flicker of approval flashed in his expression as he studied her. Unlike their first meeting, he was paying full attention to her this time. That made her even more anxious.

"They went straight after the crates once Mook was down?"

"Yes."

"None of the shipment was salvageable?" he pressed on.

"None. We barely escaped with our lives."

"Pity. The shipment was far more valuable," was the cold reply. A chill shot through Elene at that, but he moved on with his next query. "You said a man was in the lead? Can you make them if you saw them again?"

Elene tried not to grimace at the thought of the creatures she fought that night. Of sharp fangs and grinning mouths smeared with red. "Yes, a man with two women at his flanks. All dark-haired, human, pale like the dead. No doubt that they're vampires. I'd rather not face them in such tights spaces again, not without holy water. But I'd know their faces anywhere."

Mae'var exhaled slowly through his nose. "Jariel tells me there's a backup shipment in Trademeet, held back for contingency. Unfortunately, he also mentioned that not a single caravan has left the town in more than a week. The letters I sent to Itona, our lead there, have gone unanswered. I'd like to think those creatures couldn't have gotten to our operations there, but in these dangerous times, I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Vampires could travel great distances in the night if they needed to. Still, the backup shipment wouldn't have been common knowledge to be targeted by a roaming horde of undead. It would make more sense to strike the caravan when it entered the city. More importantly, why he was telling her all this in the first place?

"Are you sending operatives there?" she asked.

Mae'var's lips twitched. "Funny you should ask. Come, I have something for you."

Elene took a bracing breath and approached his desk. It was possible that he would give her the order, Jariel had hinted as much as soon as he'd gotten the news. Even so, a part of her had been holding out on the hope that she wouldn't have to do this. The last thing she needed then was a thankless trip to a small Amnian town when she was better off staying in the city earning more gold. As her mind swirled with possibilities, Mae'var stood, unfolding to his formidable height. Instead of handing her one of the rolled parchments on his desk, he circled her, close enough to almost rustle her hair with his breath. Holding her nerve, she stood her ground, staring straight ahead. Once he was done with his inspection, he came to a halt directly behind her.

"Where are you from, Elene?" he murmured.

Her answer came mechanically. "The Sword Coast."

"Hmm. More elves from those parts than here. What really brought you to Amn?"

"I was told there was opportunity here." She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder, to try and see what he was doing behind her. It was more than a little disconcerting to allow an assassin like Mae'var full access to her unprotected back. She tried for levity. "Would have been nice for them to mention the guild war."

He stepped closer. Close enough to almost touch.

"Even with the guild war, you're not wrong. There is opportunity here."

The implication was thick in his playful tone. Then his fingers began to thread through her hair. She'd worn it half-tied for the evening, not expecting a confrontation. Suddenly she wished she'd knotted it into the tightest braid she could have managed instead.

Even if you're unwilling to cede completely to his will, you must make a show of bending the knee. He will not accept anything less.

Now Viconia's words made perfect sense. And why beautiful women like her and Anishai were so prized by their guildmaster. Elene's mind raced in tandem with her heart. She had been trained by Khalid and Kivan to fight, by Jaheira and Xan to strategise five steps ahead. In this situation, she was woefully unprepared. To reject him outright could mean a quick death. But to entertain him, even a little, was out of the question. There was no way she would stoop to whoring herself for the sake of earning this man's trust.

His hand moved to her neck. A gentle caress at the sensitive flesh just below her ear. And he began to trail downwards, to her shoulder, then…

I will not play this game.

A cold tendril snaked across her chest as something dangerous rustled within her. It lent her an edge as she pulled away, turning to look him square in the eye. He paused, watching her intently. From the way his eyes narrowed, he can sense the danger, too.

"Then how may I best serve the guild?"

The guild. And not him.

His eyes gleamed at her choice of words. Amused, not upset. He considered her for a moment, the steel in her voice. Then he dropped his treacherous hand and returned to his desk. "You are of interest to me, Elene. Viconia tells me you're a decent hand at quiet work, with a good mind for subtlety. It's not easy to get a good word from her, so barring the disaster at the warehouse, you've performed admirably so far. Still, there is much to do. But if you continue to do well, your promotion will be assured."

She nodded, playing the part of a hopeful subordinate. She hoped it was convincing.

"I've assigned Goshan the task of securing the shipment from Trademeet, he is to depart in two days." He graced her with an unpleasant smile. "You are to shadow him to assist, get rid of any logjams that may delay him. Make sure you don't arrive at the same time to avoid suspicion. Furthermore, I expect you to send a clear message to Itona that I am displeased with her ineptitude. I don't care what her reasons are, she should have been resourceful enough to find a solution. I want to know where her loyalty lies."

"Couldn't…Wouldn't it make more sense for Goshan to send the message?"

"He's a simple executioner. I doubt he'd be able to deliver with the subtlety I'm after." His eyes glittered with malice. "Do you understand?"

"…yes."

"Good." He reached for a rolled parchment and handed it to her. She took special care not to touch him as she took it. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl. "Details of the shipment are in there. None can know its true destination. Report to Viconia when you're done. And I expect nothing less than success."

She understood dismissal when she heard it. Nodding curtly, she turned on her heel and departed the room with measured steps. Even though deep down, she wanted to bolt out of there like a bat out of Hell. For the second time that night, she couldn't get out of a room quickly enough.

This had to be a test. From what she knew of Goshan, he was ruthless and capable, much like most of the thieves in Mae'var's stable. The man could easily deliver the message on his superior's behalf, and they all knew it. No, Mae'var was testing to see the lengths she would go to just to please his whims. Especially since she didn't take the bait he offered and try to seduce him. It would have been easy for another woman to lean into his touch. Instead, she shuddered at the memory of his skin on hers. What a sick, twisted man this Mae'var was, treating his agents like playthings. No wonder even Viconia was fearful of him.

The skies had opened up by the time she slunk out to the streets to return to the Coronet. It was almost a relief to step into the deluge, as if it could wash away the disgust pooling in her gut. Pulling up her hood, she scanned her surroundings before melting into the shadows. A cutpurse from the guild was jumped by the rival guild on the streets the night before. What was left of him wasn't pretty. They'd already spent a sizeable sum of gold getting Jaheira to full recovery after the vampire attack, she'd rather not make herself an easy target.

Jaheira. She groaned as she crossed into the Slums district. On top of this mess with Mae'var, there was the meeting with the Harpers tomorrow morning. She didn't feel the least bit prepared for it. Granted, Jaheira said there was nothing to plan for. The Harper leader in Athkatla only wanted to meet her, get to know her. Somehow that was even more nerve-wracking than going to see Renal Bloodscalp in her smallclothes. What did her father's old friends want with her?

Revelling humans thronged the bar by the time she arrived at the inn. Some sort of celebration, maybe someone's nameday. A flash of envy burned through her as she pushed past them to head upstairs, seeking a quiet place to think. How nice to be so carefree, even for one night. Every day of her life in Athkatla so far has felt like a struggle against an ever-tightening net.

The meeting room floor seemed deserted, as expected. Jaheira would have retired early to prepare for tomorrow. While the others seldom spent time there barring a planned discussion. That suited her just fine. Until she pushed into their designated room and saw Kivan within, tweaking the fletching of his arrow, his tools strewn all over the round table as he worked. She froze at the threshold, considering whether she should bolt for another room instead. Too late. His eyes flicked up momentarily before returning to his work. Then he raised his head to focus on her face, as if belatedly noticing her pinched expression.

"What is it?" he asked.

She wavered. Should she tell him? But he would get so upset with Mae'var and her and the whole situation. Despite her overwhelming desire to flee into some hole to wallow in, though, she saw the concern softening the edges of his eyes. No, she shouldn't think like that. Kivan was her ally. He always has been.

Might as well then.

Stepping inside, she unclasped her wet cloak and tossed it onto the back of a chair. "I met Mae'var."

He dropped the arrow onto the table and gave her his undivided attention.

Sighing, she dropped herself into a chair next to him with a thump, running shaky fingers through her hair. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Tell me."

In stops and starts, she did. At first, speaking of what Viconia offered her was straightforward enough. Her own observations, suspicions from that conversation. With Mae'var, she could meticulously describe his initial reaction to her report. Of the backup shipment stuck in Trademeet and the barbed command to travel there and do her part for the guild. When she arrived at the part where he touched her, though…her mouth went dry. Just that brief unwanted contact felt like such a violation that she couldn't put it into words. Kivan frowned as she fell into silence, picking at her gauntlet. Something in her expression must have broadcasted what happened as fear and shame warred across her features, for his eyes narrowed in sudden realisation.

"What did he do to you?" he demanded.

"Nothing." The glare she got from him in return shrivelled the courage she needed to lie to his face. "Or well. Not much. He…touched me," she forced out in the end, unable to meet his gaze. "Gave me an opening to…to seduce him."

Kivan stared at her. Then he shot to his feet with murder in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill him," he growled.

She grabbed his arm. "No! You can't!"

His face turned incredulous. "Why in the Hells not? The Bloodscalp will have him killed anyway!"

"We…" she swallowed. "We don't have proof of his treachery. Not yet."

"What's taking so long? He must have letters, documents stored in his office." He jabbed a finger at her, amber eyes ablaze. "Why can't you or Yoshimo break in and get them tonight?"

"Keep your voice down, it's not that easy," she hissed, pulling at his arm, coaxing him back into his chair. "He's a paranoid man. His office is guarded, not to mention trapped six ways to Tarsakh. We're not going to get what we need through burglary alone. Viconia is the key."

Kivan shook her off. "That drow bitch will just get you killed."

"I'm more useful to her alive than dead. But she's not the problem here."

"I don't like this." His hand arced in a slashing motion. "Men like Mae'var, they abuse their position. Say you go to Trademeet, do this for him. What next? For how long can you keep evading his advances? What if the only way to get further in your mission is to bed him? You know you're better than that. You can still walk away from this…this madness."

She sighed, scrubbing at her face. "I take it you don't know about Jassa's letter in the afternoon. After what happened at the warehouse, the Bloodscalp upped the reward to 8,000 gold. To factor in hazard pay, he said."

Pin-drop silence greeted her words as he watched her. She could guess at what was going through his mind. Even she'd been surprised at the Bloodscalp's ostensible generosity, to the point of suspicion in his motives. Kivan knew as well as she did that no other bounty in the city would pay that much. Perhaps that was why it was offered in the first place. To bind them in service as danger mounted. Once again, they were trapped by circumstance between a rock and a hard place.

"Don't compromise too much of yourself for gold, Elene," Kivan said at last.

Self-loathing pooled and bubbled in her chest upon hearing the quiet disappointment in his tone. It felt like a punch in the throat.

"I've tried the authorities, I've tried the Cowled Wizards. This is the only way left," she choked out. "I just want Imoen back."

He let out a long exhale, all his anger trickling out as his expression softened. Then he reached over to grasp her shoulder in a warrior's grip, much like that night in her darkest hours, when it felt like the Realms had turned its back on her and left her to rot. His meaning was clear even without words, but she needed to hear it.

"Are you still with me?" she asked softly.

His thumb brushed her shoulder. "I am. Your enemy is my enemy."

Heat built in her eyes as she reached up to cover his hand with hers. A small gesture from him, but it rendered her speechless. No hesitation or doubt in his answer. She didn't know what she did to be deserving of such loyalty. She only hoped that she would continue to be deserving of it.

"If it helps, Nalia de'Arnise's keep is on the way to Trademeet," Kivan pointed out.

She huffed a weak laugh. "That is useful to know. At least she can help with the gold problem."

The thought of this other quest sparked another wave of discomfort, it swirled in Elene's chest feeling like a painful compromise being made. A part of her wanted to help for the same reason she went out of her way to save Aerie's 'uncle' at the circus. To lose family and home in one fell swoop was not a fate she would wish upon anyone. But the truth was, Nalia's request required them to leave as soon as they could – and it required time and resource that she wasn't sure she could spare, with everything coming to a head. What if the detour significantly delayed her for the crucial appointment with Goshan in Trademeet? She still couldn't decide. She needed to think.

"I need to…" she pulled away after a few breaths, awkwardly wiping at her eyes. "I need to get ready for tomorrow. Maybe prepare a speech or…a pitch if that will help convince the Harpers to help us."

"You're better off preparing spells."

"That's not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be." He gave her a knowing look. "This setup reeks. Do you really trust them?"

"Yes." She winced. "Well…maybe not completely."

His answering scoff laid bare his own sentiment. Even with his conviction that they were sleepwalking into trouble, she knew he would come with them tomorrow. She couldn't see his point, though. Gorion was a Harper in good standing. He'd spent his whole life serving the cause with nothing but loyalty and conviction. They wouldn't hurt her, not while she upheld his good name. And Jaheira would vouch for her to her last breath.

Now the Harpers might withhold aid, but they would never mean her harm.

Surely.

"You're sure you don't want the others to come with us?" he asked.

"We've talked about this. Jaheira doesn't want them involved. They might reveal the location of the Harper base to others."

"All this secrecy, and for what?"

"Would that I know. It will be fine, though. We just need to keep our wits about us." She rose to her feet, unwilling to argue Jaheira's corner again. They'd been over this at least twice before, and they always ended up at the same conclusion. That they needed to trust the other woman's judgment. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kivan."

Nodding, he picked up the discarded arrow and resumed his painstaking work. Her eyes strayed to his un-gloved hands, observing the angry crisscross of old rope burns marring his wrists. The slightly misshapen angles of his fingers. She'd walked away from her captor's dungeon with nary a scratch on her while he would live forever scarred with the cruel reminder of his loss. Life was unfair in many ways.

She wondered if he still dreamed of his tormentor, Tazok.

No, no. Flushing, she picked up her sodden cloak and left before he found her hesitation strange. There were enough things to worry about without burdening him with her dreams as well. She wouldn't tell him of the mockery of her old lessons she had in her recent dream. Shackled to her former desk in the Candlekeep library with her masked captor dictating her inevitable destiny like an overbearing tutor. While around her, gruesome corpses piled up to her knees, most of them familiar faces. Faces of men and women she'd killed or led to their deaths in her bloody year in the Sword Coast.

With Imoen's pale, lifeless body as the last one she saw, before she jerked awake in terror.

You'll come too late, Lene.

Dreams were playgrounds of demons and fey. They had no bearing on the living, or so she kept telling herself. Yet with every dream, despair crept further into her heart. Almost a month has passed since Imoen's capture and they were still so far from rescue.

She would have to see about this meeting with the Harpers. They were the last option available before she had to leap headlong into Mae'var's cat-and-mouse game.

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Author's Note:

This is the last chapter to arrange the set-pieces, then off we go. Elene is about to find out that life happens when she's busy planning other things.

The update cycle will be monthly at this rate, while I build up a respectable backlog. I worry I've hit a bit of a plateau in my writing and am experimenting with some aspects as I go along. I hope you're still enjoying the ride. :)