A story doesn't exist until it is read; knowing that people are reading it and want to know what happens next helps considerably with my otherwise scattered focus. So this chapter is dedicated to unitcircle, for their relentless encouragement and for reminding me that this story exists.

Berdusk, 1400 DR

The dull stone building fronts and stolid wooden pillars were dressed up for the turn of the century. People wove through the streets with lanterns and garlands of flowers, swirling here and there in a frenzy of celebration. There was a band on the street corner—entirely percussionists, with tiny silver bells tied around their wrists and dangling from their clothes. The deep booms and rapid clatters were offset by the small chiming; the bells were apparently harmonized to each other, meaning that no matter how drunk the musicians got, they would never go off-key. The worst they could do would be to lose their rhythm.

Jarlaxle sat on the edges, watching it all. Athrogate had looked surprised when he'd claimed an unoccupied table on the edges of the town square and even more so when Jarlaxle had pushed him away into the pulsing crowd. But Jarlaxle hadn't danced like this since he was a student at Melee-Magthere. He had no intention of starting again now.

"Mind if I join you?"

Jarlaxle looked up. A tiefling stood at the edge of his table, blocking the light. Jarlaxle grinned.

"I would appreciate the company," he said. Are you business or pleasure, he wondered. From the way the tiefling was sitting—straight-backed, calm, and possibly the only sober person in the room—Jarlaxle guessed a business proposal was incoming. An offer of work, perhaps. He and Athrogate had just finished their survey of the nearby hills, too, so he'd probably take it.

The tiefling seemed unworried as well; either this was an appealing, uncomplicated job or he was just very arrogant. Jarlaxle reserved judgement on which it was for the moment.

"Herzgo Alegni." The tiefling extended his hand. Jarlaxle shook it. "I work for the Netherese."

"Ah." The shifting lantern light had hidden the grey tint of the tiefling's skin, but it was obvious once Jarlaxle thought to look for it. He scanned the crowd for Athrogate, hoping the dwarf was doing something that would require him to intervene and cut the conversation short. Alas, no such luck.

"You've been difficult to find." Alegni frowned at him as if he were expecting Jarlaxle to apologize for the inconvenience.

"Not at all." If he couldn't escape, he'd have to deflect. He leaned back and put his boots on the table. "My companions have been known to complain of how very conspicuous I am."

"And yet, we've been trying to deal with you for months without success."

Jarlaxle shrugged. "If you can't find a single man with all of your armies to help you, I hardly see how that is my fault."

He nearly laughed out loud at the warring emotions on Alegni's face. Anger at the insult and confusion about the potential double-meaning. Professionalism beat them both.

"The Netherese army has prioritized other strengths. This is why we'd like to hire you to find someone for us. An old friend of yours." Alegni leaned forward, trying to make use of his bulk and height to intimidate. It would have worked better if he'd been standing. Jarlaxle took a sip of his drink and pretended not to notice.

"You will have to be more specific. I have many friends."

"This one has something that belongs to us."

Jarlaxle tapped his lips for a moment, pretending to think. He kept it up slightly longer than it took for Alegni to become annoyed and uncomfortable with the silence. "Ah! You are referring to Artemis Entreri."

"Yes," Alegni gritted out.

"Is he not dead of old age by now? Humans die so quickly. If you wait another decade I am sure he'll wither away and drop your lost item at your feet." In the background, the musicians had switched to something with a faster tempo; the lower drums were loud enough to make the table vibrate.

Alegni's lip curled up in a disdainful snarl. The Netherese had to know that Entreri wasn't aging as a normal human would, but they didn't know why. "I do not care to wait that long," he said.

"Then I cannot help you. As you said, we were friends. I haven't seen the man in years."

"You have resources we do not. You could find him easily enough."

"Ah, but those resources are tied up in other projects." Jarlaxle lifted his hands helplessly. "I would like to help you, but I am simply too busy right now. I wish you the best of luck, though."

"Shift them." Alegni smirked. "We can pay very well."

For a moment, Jarlaxle considered the wealth that might be in Netherese coffers. He named a price and Alegni made a high noise in the back of his throat.

"That's preposterous," Alegni eventually said. "For a single human?"

"For the location of a single human," Jarlaxle said. "You'd have to catch him yourself."

Alegni pursed his lips and named a different number, considerably lower. Jarlaxle raised one eyebrow.

"I am not bargaining."

"Angering the Netherese Empire could be very unhealthy for you," Alegni said, baring his teeth.

"I can see that it's certainly been a massive inconvenience for Artemis Entreri."

"You would mock us?"

"You're being very mockable." Jarlaxle shrugged. "Meet my price or get out."

Alegni stood up, moving the table several inches. Jarlaxle took a sip of his drink.

"This is not the last you'll hear from me," he warned before stalking off. As he vanished into the crowd, Jarlaxle felt a weight disappear from his chest.

"Perhaps." But the brief shadow of melancholy had gone. He scanned the dancing crowd as the rhythm of the bells pulled at his feet.