Chapter 16: Good Choices, Bad Choices...and Those Made for Us

"Apples! Apples, one copper!"

Haer'Dalis twisted about to look automatically as they passed this particularly vocal street vendor on their return journey through Athkatla. After their stop-off at the Adventurer's Mart in Waukeen's Promenade and their subsequent path through the bustling, colourful market outside, the tiefling's usually irrepressible mood had descended into disorientated glaring. He had been attempting to rehearse a few lines of his play with Aerie but the persistent shouts of the stall owners had eventually got the better of him.

"Why the sour mood, Haer'Dalis?" Elatharia called back, easily amused now that she had the required funds to pay the Thieves' Guild everything they had required for Imoen.

"Walnuts! Hot walnuts!"

Haer'Dalis spared a moment to flinch away from that street seller before answering, his intolerance drawing a giggle from Aerie.

"I am not used to streets of this type. Sigil is as colourful and loud, its assault on the senses ultimately far greater. But…this. This is…"

"I think it's exciting," Aerie told him. Viconia rolled her eyes at that from where she was walking ahead beside Elatharia. The Transmuter failed to stifle a snigger and earned a glare from the disguised drow.

"It would be, but I find it difficult to concentrate," Haer'Dalis sighed.

"Then you are not truly grasping the joy of the markets, friend," Yoshimo ventured good-naturedly from behind the tiefling.

"They are all trying to sell me something! All of them! And I am not your friend, Cuckoo."

"You wound me," the Kara-Turan sounded sincere, but Elatharia also heard Anomen quietly suggesting that the bounty hunter leave the tiefling alone.

As the group pushed their way past a throng of would-be buyers outside a spices stall, nearing the district gates to the Slums, Valygar's voice sounded at Elatharia's other side. Upon their entry to Athkatla Edwin had almost immediately departing via a Dimension Door, taking great pride in his flamboyant exit – and no doubt the legality of it. All the same, the Red Wizard's exit had left her with only Viconia walking at her side. Perhaps it had also put Valygar a little more at ease; his distrust of wizards was no secret, and there were few wizards he trusted less than Edwin.

"I would hope that you will make good your promise to overthrow my relative's hold on the Planar Sphere before you leave to recover yours sister, Elatharia," Valygar noted, his quiet voice not without steel.

"I will," the Transmuter agreed, her smile turning grim as she looked to him, "Not because I care more about the power I might gain there than I do about my sister, and not because I really care about how much it matters to you. But because the power that place could offer will be invaluable against a foe like Irenicus." She could not avoid her sharp tone; it was something about his determination to ask her, even knowing how important the saving of Imoen was to her.

"Then that will have to do," the ranger grunted, his expression darkening, "Though I will never pretend to condone such magical greed, no matter why you claim to want power."

Elatharia's anger flashed suddenly, a burst of gold flickering behind her eyes. Her smile became more of a snarl.

"I will never pretend to agree with you, ranger," she told him, choosing to be equally honestly, "At the moment, saving my sister is the most important thing for me. Once I have her back, helping her keep herself safe will be. But while I'm doing all that, there's something else that I'll want, and something else that I'll get no matter what prejudiced sword-swingers like you think. That's power. Because for someone like me – and you saw my Bhaalspawn brother try to kill me, so really I'm sure you understand – there is nothing more important than being more powerful than my enemies."

"I can understand that," he nodded, dark eyes narrowed with his deep frown, "Though I will not sympathise. Magic is a corrupting course to take, even for wizards more virtuous and well-meaning than you."

"It may well be, not that I worry all that much about it," she shrugged, anything but nonchalant as they waited outside the gates for the Slums to let past a wagon loaded with Jansen turnips. The gnomish driver gave her a little nod as he rumbled past, "But I'd remind you that hate of the sort you hold for magic is just as corrupting. Not that I worry about that, either. So you keep your hate, and I'll keep my magic. Disapprove all you like, I'll leave you to it," she met his eyes only briefly before they moved on, her tone hard, "Just don't stop me from getting what I want. And more importantly, don't stop me from getting what I'll need to help my sister." My sister in more than name. My good, virtuous sister…who is also a child of Bhaal.

He spoke no more to her after that, moving away to walk alone at the end of the group as they made their way into the Slums, past the Jansen Residence and up to the door of Gaelan Bayle's house. It was strange to see the tall house standing in the full glare of the midday sun, with its many windows darkened by closed curtains. There was no hint of a face at any one of those windows, yet the answer came just a second after Elatharia knocked.

"Coo! You be back sooner than I'd expected!" Gaelan himself exclaimed as he opened the door for the group and ushered them inside. All was the same within; even the fire was burning, in spite of the hot weather, "But in far smaller number than when ye left. Not too disastrous a journey, I hope?"

He was watching Elatharia with a fixed smile as the last few members of the group trooped inside, Valygar eyeing the place and its host almost as distrustfully as he would the Transmuter and Edwin. Conversely, Aerie was smiling widely in expectation of the conversation to come, and Elatharia could not blame her. Her own heart was pounding in the knowledge that she was about to fulfil the bargain she had been forced to make with the Thieves' Guild those many tendays ago.

"Not a disaster then, I take it?" Gaelan tried again, his expression remaining fixed, his eyes darting from Elatharia to each of the others and back again as he fidgeted, "Will yer other friends be joining us in short order?"

"Something like that," Elatharia nodded, eyes narrowing suspiciously, "And it's not like you, failing to think of the money I owe you first – before the welfare of my companions, Gaelan."

"Oh really?" he laughed nervously, "How much closer to the total are ye, then?"

"We have it all," she promised, passing him the bag of holding in which she kept the sum, her heart dropping as he took the cloth container, inspected its contents…and his face fell, "The rest of the fifteen thousand gold, as agreed. Discounted, because you failed to tell me that Imoen was Irenicus's captive once more, not just hidden away with the Cowled Wizards at Spellhold."

"Aye," Gaelan chuckled, backing up a few steps before crossing the room in quick strides and depositing the bag in the draw of his desk. Something about the way it disappeared within hinted that it would not be so easy to retrieve.

"Rothé…iblith!" Viconia's curse had several of the other's bristling as she stepped back, the Flail of the Ages suddenly in her hands and her eyes fixed on the dark doorways open in the corner closest to Gaelan. A number of figures waited beyond, arrows nocked and daggers gleaming with poison – all were dressed in the black and silver of the Shadow Thieves.

Haer'Dalis's shortswords were in his hands a second later, Anomen raising his purple shield as he pulled Aerie behind him. The avariel was shaking, but her expression was fierce. Elatharia found herself caught between these waiting Shadow Thieves and her own party as Gaelan turned back around and approached her once more. He hardly looked smug, but his tone was steadier now.

"And we do thank ye kindly for the speed with which ye bestowed upon us this precious sum," he told her as she watched him with the coldest, stillest rage she had ever known, "But things ain't so simple as they were before. We got to ask for a little more time before we can send ye off to get back yer sister," he held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak, "We haven't broken our promise. We'll still be helping ye. But later. And before ye make to cast yer spells, I'd like to remind ye that wizardry is forbidden in this city and there'll be a host of Cowled Wizards waiting to drag you off…to wherever they're keeping wizards these days since Irenicus took over Spellhold. And coo! Don't you realise how many Shadow Thieves' I've got waiting ready to pounce on ye the moment ye attack me?" his steady explanation, each threat uttered without guilt or anger, became an almost imploring request, "So just give us the time, and we'll be sending ye off for yer sister soon enough."

Elatharia held his pale gaze for several long moments, her shaking fists clenched at her sides, until he started to shift from foot to foot in front of her. Her anger rose and fell in great golden waves. Her words came out in a snarl.

"You have still betrayed me, bastard," she told him, "And for the moment, I still need you – just like your guild. But one day your guild won't need you anymore. When that happens, if I have not already destroyed your masters, I will kill you."

Before she could start what she had promised right there, she turned and pushed past her companions, out through the front door and into the blazing hot streets of the late Athkatlan summer.

"I don't think I've ever seen her that angry," Aerie admitted softly into the thoughtful silence that had descended upon the kitchen.

"I have, darthiir," Viconia promised from where she sat delicately sipping on some soup, her blue eyes strikingly pale against her ebon skin as she glanced at Aerie, "The day she learned that she was a Bhaalspawn – that was the same day that we were arrested in Candlekeep, thanks to Sarevok's machinations. I think she was angrier then."

The Shadow Thieves' threat of attack had been more than unsettling – frightening, really – but Aerie had realised it had been a precaution. The real danger in that scenario had been Elatharia, and what she might have done in anger without the promise of immediate violent retribution. Such tactics saddened her, and she would always have preferred a more honest course. But the peace had been kept, and that was what mattere most.

All of those who had stayed had taken a little time to wash off the grime of the road and change into fresh, less battle-ready clothes before returning to the kitchen for some food – save for Valygar, who had gone out almost immediately after Elatharia to find the Planar Sphere. Only Yoshimo still wore combat clothes; fresh leathers and a peculiar short-sleeved suede shirt over the top. Still, it was Viconia, even dressed in simple black cotton, who made Aerie more than a little nervous.

"Her anger is not without reason," Anomen suggested, in that slow manner of one who is also persuading themself, "Although her threats were perhaps a little unnecessary. I would be the first to jump at a chance to be rid of these Shadow Thieves but it does seem that they have promised to carry out the agreement, even if it is a little delayed."

"Well," Yoshimo smiled to all of them as he pushed back his chair and stood, "I would suggest that our leader has a particular dislike of betrayals. An admirable quality, if you ask me. And for us – while we wait for her return, we might as well use this time to get a little rest."

Haer'Dalis had been rather quiet as he sat away from the others scribbling in his notebook intently, sitting back against the wall on one of the work surfaces. He looked up as the Kara-Turan stood, his dark eyes following Yoshimo's exiting form. He opened his mouth to speak, frowned slightly, twirled his enchanted ever-ink quill in his hand, and then seemed to think better of whatever he had wanted to say.

For a second or two Aerie watched him thoughtfully before turning her gaze back to her vegetable soup. Unlike Viconia and Yoshimo, she did not want to simply accept anger or frustration from Elatharia. Nor did she want to explain it away like Anomen, as well-meaning as the cleric was in trying to do so. In her experience, the avariel had learned that the best thing to do was learn where the real problem lay. In this case maybe it was frustration over the time that continued to stretch between the present and Imoen's freedom. Perhaps it was something more, because Aerie had always known that Elatharia's thoughts and life choices could take turns too nefarious to imagine without further information.

A glance out of the window behind Haer'Dalis showed that lovely, endless blue sky, the open back door bringing with it the distant clamour of the streets; the persistence of the town criers, the clopping of horses' hooves, the rumble of wagon wheels. Unlike the tiefling, Aerie loved the bustle of the city; it was so particularly human, so interesting for its alien nature. Even after so many days of walking she felt the need to be out there, rather than sitting in this kitchen so close to a drow who she could never trust and a tiefling who she feared she could have too easily loved and idolised like a fool.

Anomen looked up from his seat beside her when Aerie stood abruptly, the avariel smoothing down her long dress before stepping around her chair. It was a special garment to her, though Viconia had sneered at the sight of it earlier; she had made it for herself with Uncle Quayle's help from blue and white cloth, stitching in collected feathers over time. It was not a dress in the manner of the human noblewomen, and Anomen's glance moved across it with tell-tale bemusement now as she patted at it before speaking. It was long, though it still showed her booted feet, without sleeves or a bodice of any kind. He probably thought her terribly ugly in it.

"I…I think I will go for a walk," she uttered at last, "I'd hate to be cooped up in this…house all day."

"Then I will come with you," Anomen put in unexpectedly, standing as well and buckling on his sword belt before turning to join her with a crooked smile that set butterflies fluttering in her stomach, "I shall be your guide around this fair city, my lady."

"A-alright," Aerie nodded shyly now, feeling her cheeks growing warm. By Baervan, why did she have to blush so easily?

Viconia made no move even to acknowledge any of this, concentrating on her soup, but Haer'Dalis looked up with a grin, pointing the feather of his quill at Aerie just as she was about to head past him for the back door.

"Make sure you return, my Dove. We have a play to rehearse, do not forget!" he nodded fiercely when she agreed a little uncertainly, "Don't forget to close the door on your way out!" he added as Aerie and Anomen passed him. As she dutifully pulled the door shut behind her, Aerie heard the scrape of Viconia's chair as the drow stood, hissing a few words to the tiefling. Whatever the Sharan priestess said had the bard laughing loudly.

Shaking her head in confusion at his irrepressible nature, Aerie turned her attentions to the backyard of the Guild House, and the promise of the Athkatlan streets, taking Anomen's arm as he offered it. Trusting his greater knowledge of the city, she allowed him to guide her through the streets of the Slums in thoughtfully silence.

It was not much past midday, when most of the city paused to shelter from the summer heat, and people were only just starting to re-emerge to tread the cobbles about their daily business. It was a sad place to Aerie, the Slums, and she found herself distracted by its strange smells and the ever-present reminder of its poverty; the run-down houses, some barely more than shacks and others far less, the dirty half-starved children of the poorest, the hard and distrustful stares of those who saw her better state of dress and health, the grimy streets and the beggars who curled up in the shadows of the alleyways.

The avariel only looked back at Anomen as they reached the gates to the Bridge District. Not that she had been unaware of his arm linked with hers, warm and strong as it was, but as the sun glimmered on the river between the larger houses of the district, she became curious. Now as they stepped through with the wagons onto the main thoroughfare of huge, sprawling Athkatla and the light caught in Anomen's copper hair and glanced off his warm brown eyes, he became as interesting and strange to her as the city ever could be.

"I feel your eyes upon me, my lady," he commented softly, glancing down the next street as if looking for something. He sounded amused.

"I was just thinking…about the city," Aerie admitted as they meandered past a cluster of arguing merchants dressed in vibrant finery and dodged back onto the pavement before they could impede a wagon full of potted plants all in bloom as it rumbled past, "About how familiar it must be to you; how you know your way around. Not just in Athkatla, but to some extent in every city you visit. For me…it is so strange," she paused as he guided her down the next alley, a small smile on his face when she looked up at him uncertainly, "I…suppose I must seem very strange to you, too."

"Not in a bad way," Anomen promised, glancing at her with that little teasing smile of his just as they turned one more corner.

All of a sudden the bustle of the road was gone and in its stead was a broad pavement overlooking the glittering river and the uneven, clustered buildings built up upon its banks. Benches were dotted down the length of this walkway, and the one in front of them was free. He guided her to it, and gestured in such a charming, courtly manner for her to sit. Bemused, she did so, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress as she looked up at him, framed as he was by the afternoon sun, splendid in his long russet velvet doublet, teeth flashing as he smiled.

"I will return presently," he promised with a wink, and left Aerie for a little while to ponder the scene around her.

With just the bustle of the main road a distant clamour behind her, it was fairly peaceful out here. There was just the rushing of the water beneath the bridge and the cries of the seagulls circling the city to accompany this excellent view of the city. And it was a different view, too. On the bench to her right an elderly couple were sitting, watching the seagulls together quietly. Beyond them a boy was sitting with his father, swinging his legs and chattering about something that she could not hear. On the bench to her left were a young man and woman, heads together and whispering, hands intertwined. Both were blushing a little, smiling, eyes searching each other's faces.

Aerie was so lost in thought that she jumped when Anomen sat next to her, offering her a little wooden bowl full of the hot walnuts and syrup that some of the street merchants sold from their stalls. He laughed at her surprise and held it out to her until she took one, nibbling at it tentatively.

"My mother use to bring Moira and I here when we were little; we used to sit here and watch the boats in the mornings," his expression grew thoughtful, that kind of fond sadness that always made Aerie's heart ache, "She grew up here – in a house across the street, actually, although it was demolished recently to build the mansion…" he paused, something like rage flickering over his features, "Of the man who my father promised me had killed my sister. Thanks to you, I did not act upon his wretched wishes."

"You did the right thing," Aerie promised with all the feeling that she knew how to express, placing her much smaller hand on his where it rested holding the little bowl on his lap, "You did. But now you have made me curious," she smiled when he did, "I do not know much about human culture, but from what you have said your father is a lord. If your mother grew up in a house that was demolished to make a mansion…"

"She was not rich, nor noble – you are correct, my lady," Anomen nodded, "It is hard for me to imagine, but my father was not always the wrathful drunkard I know now. He loved my mother and forsook his family for her. His father only forgave him on his deathbed," he sighed deeply, "And look how he has shamed that forgiveness."

"Why? What…what happened, Anomen? I…I don't mean to pry. I just…I want to help however I can," Aerie leaned closer, squeezing his hand, and her words sounded a little breathless to her own ears when the cleric looked up. But she meant what she said, by all the gods.

"No. I…mean yes. I understand," he covered her hand with his free one before looking out at the river, "It is a simple tale, really. My mother died when my sister and I were quite young. My father took to drinking after that; he had always tended to drink too much, but when she died…he started and never stopped. My sister was much like her; kind, gentle and beautiful. He has always loved her – and spared his rages for me. 'You should have joined the army' he would say, or 'you should have become a real paladin, not flaunting your honour without any of the real meaning as a cleric'. I was…I am a great disappointment to him. With my sister gone, he blamed me. And when I refused to commit murder and ignore the proper course of justice, he threw me from his house and gave me our family sword and shield as a badge of my shame," Anomen laughed without mirth, his hand moving to run over the jewelled pommel at his hip, "Which is a successful goal indeed because I am, as a priest of Helm, sworn against using an edged weapon."

"That's…that's terrible! How can he be ashamed of you?" Aerie could not remember feeling so frustrated, "I have never met anyone who was better or kinder or braver!"

"I am glad you think so, my lady," his smile was very genuine, something gentle in his eyes when he looked at her again, searching her face in a way that made her blush brightly. Flustered, she looked away but he brushed a knuckle over her cheek lightly, laughing softly, "Your words are very kind, as you are. I can understand why the tiefling has been so interested in you."

"Interested in me?" Aerie brushed brighter, but pulled away a little now, "What do you mean?"

"Indeed," Anomen's tone was innocent, but his smile was wry, "You are not altogether oblivious, are you?"

"Wha…I…he…" Aerie fluttered her hands in frustration, "He prefers Viconia!" The words burst from her somewhere between desperation and frustration. Anomen's smile grew wider and he patted at the air between them in a calming gesture.

"I am glad that you have noticed that, my lady," was she relieved or disappointed to hear that? "One such as him does not deserve someone as good and beautiful as you."

"And are you suggesting that you are deserving?" Aerie drew herself up, indignant, "I may be easily flustered, Anomen, but I am not a little girl. I was betrothed once, before…before I was taken…" she regretted saying that as soon as the words escaped her, but Anomen's smile faltered and he took her hand once more, expression earnest.

"Forgive me, my lady. I was only teasing, and perhaps a little hopeful," that crooked grin again, a boyish look that demanded she forgive him much more successfully than any words, "I did not wish to cause any offense. Come, I know a place that you will like to see in this city."

Not giving her a chance to decide whether she was offended or flattered, he stood, offering a hand which she took after a moment or two of uncertainty, linking their arms once more when she was standing.

It was to the Temple District that he took her, where the bustle of the city died away and the gates opened before them to reveal a huge square built across the river, its arcing pathways of streaked and coloured marble parting in artful patterns to reveal the rippling river beneath. And the temples that gave the place its name soared all around, spired and domed and colourful, of marble and granite and obsidian.

The temple to Lathander the Morning Lord rose up in the distance, its bronze tiled dome glimmering like a second sun against the sky. The temple to Talos stood opposite, just around the corner as Aerie advanced into the main square in awe, its sharp spires high and tipped with glittering blue crystal, its white marble walls shot through with jagged streaks of obsidian. Along the left of the square, closest to where she and Anomen stood, rose the temples of Tyr and Helm, the former a comparatively small and simple series of domes each decorated with the jewelled eye of Tyr, the latter huge and square, of glittering granite with the hand of Helm hanging above its tall doors.

Somewhere in the distance priests were singing some soaring religious song. The place was otherwise hushed, though the pathways were far from empty; populated by clerics making their way with quiet familiarity or citizens walking in contemplation to and from prayer in one of the temples. Aerie was just turning to Anomen, to express her awe at this place's beauty, when she noticed his distracted frown. Following his gaze, she saw a man approaching them down one of the marble walkways. It looked as if he had come from the many-spired building not far away; he was dressed in gleaming armour of silver and gold, with the colourful cloak of the Radiant Heart around his shoulders.

"You are Anomen Delryn, understudy of the Order of the Radiant Heart?" the man enquired in a strong, emotionless tone that implied years of training – and left Aerie feeling distinctly nervous.

"I am," Anomen drew himself up proudly, expression suddenly rigid.

"It is fortunate that I saw you here today. A summons has been sent out. You are to be tested for knighthood at the headquarters of the Order of the Radiant Heart in two days' time."

"Of all the places to meet I would like to point out that this is the worst," Edwin complained mutinously at Elatharia's side, sitting down reluctantly upon one of the cold stone benches that were dotted along the outer path of the Graveyard District, "It happens to be night-time throughout the city of Athkatla and I am sure we could have conducted this most clandestine of meetings in a far subtler and warmer manner indoors."

"You agreed to come," Elatharia reminded him distractedly from where she was pacing in front of him, casting the Conjurer a brief glance. She could only just make him out in the illumination given by the tiny conjured globes of light both of them held. It grated a little that he had summoned both; such was the way of Athkatla, where she held no licence for magic.

"I had not thought she would keep us waiting for so long. I was curious to see what kind of idiotic mess you have embroiled yourself in. Now I am cold (and utterly bored)."

"It is not that cold," the Transmuter denied, eyes scanning the darkness for a sign of anyone approaching.

"It is easy for you to comment on the temperature in such a blasé manner when dressed in that cloak," Edwin groused, huddling further into his own dark cloak.

Elatharia could not even see his eyes beneath the low-hanging rim of his cowl, his hands swathed in leather gloves…but the Transmuter also knew that he had dressed in his Red Wizard robe for this occasion – something which would not ordinarily have been advisable in a city like Athkatla, even with his licence. That meant he was nervous. Probably as nervous as she was.

The rows of sombre tombs were each illuminated by the soft grey-blue glow of witchlights at this hour, giving a sight of many closed stone doorways and the mist that hung low over the paving slabs of the pathways. It was a little disconcerting, with so many human statues standing posed in various too-real attitudes around the gravestones and tombs, some alone at the centre of half-seen grassy mounds. Anyone could be watching. Unlike Edwin she did at least have the luxury of casting every Divination spell she knew upon herself; reaching out to these temporary augmentations, she sensed no trespassers upon the graveyard.

They had been waiting a long time; they had arrived at sunset and at least an hour had passed since then. Still, Elatharia doubted that Bodhi could possibly make her wait longer than the Thieves' Guild would – and what better revenge for their incompetence than siding with the group who were quite clearly the reason behind their problems? The Transmuter just wished she had foreseen this issue and decided to switch allegiances earlier. It would have saved her a lot of gold.

Her frustration with Gaelan Bayle and his all but perpetually unseen masters had not abated since she escaped his home at midday. In a blind rage she had wandered the streets, so caught up in Bhaal's golden light and the wretched memories it brought her that she had no idea how long she had walked for. Regardless, by the time she made her way to the Guild House that she had won in the Docks, Yoshimo had already arrived. She had given the place to him to run, after all.

Edwin had been there since he had left them via a Dimension Door earlier in the day; she had found him sitting at the table on the top floor of the building which he seemed to have claimed entirely as his own, herbal tea in hand and books strewn all over the wooden surface before him. Upon learning of the Shadow Thieves' failure to meet the terms of their agreement, the Red Wizard had been entirely amenable to Elatharia's rage-filled decision: siding with Bodhi.

For all of her (admittedly rather inexpert) Divinations, Elatharia was not the first to notice a change. She gave a start when Edwin rose suddenly, grasping her elbow and pulling her back to his side. The back of her head bumped against his shoulder and she looked up at him to see his expression was no longer angry, or annoyed…just watchful.

"The air has grown colder," he told her, "(Stupid of her to dress in clothes which impede judgement of these matters in a place such as this)," he gave her a little shake for good measure, hand tight around her upper arm now, "Look…"

"I had wondered when you would come to me, Elatharia," Bodhi's voice, husky and bordering on hoarse, oozed out of the darkness. Her dark clad form followed, stepping down the overgrown stairway up to the abandoned, older part of the cemetery without even a rustle of leaves.

"You kept us waiting a long while," Elatharia responded, backing up automatically and standing on Edwin's foot when Bodhi slinked into their conjured lights. The Red Wizard did not even hiss in annoyance at her clumsiness, staying very still behind her.

"Not as long as you kept me waiting," Bodhi's broad, slightly coarse face did not seem well-suited to pouting – and here she proved that it was not, "Not that I hold your hesitation against you, of course. You needed time to truly understand why siding with the Shadow Thieves was such a bad idea; and now they have proven it, by reneging on their promises. Delaying."

"Are you telling me that you won't delay if I agree to help you?" Elatharia forged on, even when Edwin tugged at her arm, "I recall that you wanted a few people dead, first."

"Our original deal will still have to stand," Bodhi acceded with a graceful nod, her long black cloak rippling like liquid around her tall form. Her eyes flashed too-reflective and too grey-white in the darkness, her flawless skin paler than death. Her thick lips, deepest red, curled as she smiled – revealing a row of sharp, gleaming teeth, "Though as I am sure you are suspecting, anything I ask of you will take far less long than the Shadow Thieves' intend to delay you," her stare shifted to Edwin now before Elatharia could speak again, "You have brought a friend this time. No one who would seek to…compromise our agreement, I hope?"

"Ha! I have no allegiance to the Shadow Thieves," Edwin scoffed, and Bodhi's eyebrows rose at his distinctive accent, "Nor do I care for this city, whose leaders have no true concept of how to rule with magic."

"A Red Wizard? Elatharia, you keep strange company," Bodhi's tone was mockingly chiding, shaking her head with a small smile for a brief moment before she became serious and intent once more, "Is it settled then? Do we have an agreement?"

"We have."

"Then I shall be in contact with you very soon so that you may carry out your first…kill."

When Elatharia returned to Gaelan Bayle's house the next morning to the nearby clamour of many familiar voices, her anger with the Guild had dissipated into a kind of satisfied, lingering hate. With their host keeping well out of her way – and her sight – she crossed unremarked through the sitting room and down the short corridor to the kitchen. Thus for a few moments she had a chance to observe her companions, both newly arrived and less so.

Minsc and Jan were telling the story of the druid grove with Korgan occasionally interjecting; they were seated at the table with all of the others gathered around them. Jaheira, by Minsc's side, looked rather embarrassed by what was being related, attempting to pay more attention to her breakfast than to the wondering gasps of the others.

It looked as though they had only just returned from the druid grove near Trademeet, as all of them were still a little dishevelled from the road, dressed in typical travelling leathers for the most part. Korgan's blood-stained armour had been left in a stinking heap just behind Elatharia's vantage point, by the stairs. There was no sign of Mazzy but no one seemed particularly unsettled or unhappy about this; thus Elatharia surmised that the halfling had taken the beginning of the storytelling as her cue to head to the washroom first. A wise choice with Korgan and Jan about.

Aerie and Anomen were sitting together and listening intently, hugging steaming cups of tea. Haer'Dalis was nearby, his heels kicked up and crossed on the edge of the table, occasionally throwing in suggestions for dramatic embellishments on the story. Elatharia spared a moment to truly notice just how much attention Aerie was giving to Anomen compared to Haer'Dalis. It appeared the avariel had, for some reason, embarked upon the road to overcoming her infatuation with the tiefling.

Meanwhile, Viconia was sitting at the far end of the table from all three of them, watching Minsc and Jan with a disdainful sidelong stare and a curled lip. Elatharia had seen the drow and the tiefling creep off together that night on the road between the De'Arnise Hold and Athkatla; she had also noted just how intently Viconia had been ignoring him since. It was sometimes hard to tell if they had argued but in this particular case she suspected that was not the problem.

Valygar was leaning against the frame of the open back door, arms crossed and expression typically fixed. He was the first to look up when Elatharia lingered in the kitchen doorway but he did not speak; it was Aerie who greeted her.

"Elatharia! You're back sooner than I'd have expected," the avariel smiled, waving her over and pouring her a cup of tea when the temporarily confused Transmuter took a seat beside her, "Viconia said you'd gone for another walk this morning. Are you feeling better?"

Ah. Elatharia cast a glance towards Viconia, grateful for the Sharan priestess's thoughtful lies but knowing that she could not show that much emotion in front of the suspicious eyes of Valygar and Jaheira. So she just gave a tight smile and nodded while the drow raised an eyebrow at her.

"What these Shadow Thieves have done to us is very unfair!" Minsc agreed, giving his best sympathetic frown. Jaheira nodded, a little stiffly – her eyes lingered on Elatharia as if hoping to read her expression behind the mask. Seeing the druid now, she found that she had far less motivation to speak of what she had learned about Imoen.

"Yes, thank you," she lied happily, "I went to look at the Planar Sphere." Well, she had meandered past its great, incongruous bulk on the way back from the Docks Guild House where she had really spent the night, "I'd like to start scouting it out today. I don't think we'll stay in there and solve all its problems at once if we can avoid it, since so many of us have only just returned. But we need to make a start at least. I've…sent word…to Edwin and Yoshimo. They should be joining us in a few hours." More correctly, she had spoken to both of them before leaving for Gaelan Bayle's house earlier that morning.

"Very well," Jaheira agreed, twisting about to glance at Valygar, "Then we should gather all of the information that we have on the place before setting out," she hesitated, nodding to Elatharia, "You will be pleased to know that Cernd has not returned with us."

"Good," Elatharia did not need to lie about her relief, "And alright Valygar, you're going to have to tell us everything that you know about the Planar Sphere, and why it's so important."

The ranger was just standing straighter, about to speak, when Mazzy appeared at the kitchen door, auburn hair fanning out in gravity-defying (but altogether rather neat) curls now that it was only newly out of its braids. She surveyed the gathered group with momentary concern, and then confusion, before moving to a seat near to Elatharia's.

"Everyone is up and back now, I see," the halfling paladin noted, her expression no less piercing though she seemed so much smaller now that she was out of her half-plate and dressed simply in a plain white tunic and dark leggings. Her blue eyes seemed particularly intent when they met Elatharia's, "I take it you have heard of Jaheira's defeat of the druid grove, and her succession to the role of leader therein?"

"I returned too late to hear that part of the story," Elatharia admitted, narrowing her eyes and looking away quickly to Jaheira lest the halfling read something of the truth in her eyes. Paladins could be unnervingly good at working out deceptions, especially of the type that the Transmuter had forged with Bodhi.

"Enough of this nonsense," Jaheira had gone rigid, her angular cheeks perhaps a little pinker, at the mention of her change in status in the druid grove. She frowned fiercely, as if that might solve her problems, and gestured behind herself at Valygar, "If we are to face the Planar Sphere I suggest we do so sooner rather than later. I take it all of our wizards have had chances to memorise all of their spells?" nods from Aerie, Jan and Elatharia, "And our priests have had a day of rest?" another nod from Aerie, affirmations from Anomen and Viconia, "Thus all of the magic which you seem to believe that we will need in the place is as ready as it will ever be. Those of us who have returned are well used to the road…"

"Or ready fer more killin'," Korgan put in with a grin that showed off two recently lost teeth and sent crumbs of something unnameable scattering from his beard, "Like I've said before, just bark yer orders and let me get to me killin'."

Aerie and Mazzy huffed in protest, Viconia rolled her eyes and Minsc rubbed at his head in puzzlement at these words, but Jaheira hardly batted an eyelid and instead forged on.

"Those of us who have returned are well used to the road and thus will not need much rest. We will take that when the work is done."

"And when it is, our Mourning Dove and I, Haer'Dalis, your humble Sparrow, will work to have a play prepared to entertain us while we await our shadowy employers," Haer'Dalis threw in.

The tiefling smiled at everyone though his words drew another eye-roll from Viconia and a hard glare from Jaheira that would have made Elatharia proud of herself had she achieved it. Aerie, the Mourning Dove in question, looked as if she might have preferred to hide under the table rather than perform on a stage – but she just smiled tremulously at Jaheira, who did not seem to have the heart to glare at her, too.

"Valygar, I think you should start telling us about the Planar Sphere now," Elatharia prompted, sipping on her tea, swallowing and suddenly realising how hungry she was. She plucked an orange from the fruit bowl in front of her and watched the Amnish ranger patiently as she peeled it.

"Very well," Valygar agreed after a moment's hesitation, moving to take a seat at the table between Viconia and Mazzy, resting his bracer-swathed forearms upon the wood before him and staring down at his loosely clasped hands with a frown that suggested he would much rather not be having this conversation, "As Jaheira and Minsc know already, I was driven from my home in the city by Cowled Wizards several tendays ago, shortly after the Planar Sphere returned. They had come to me because only a Corthala can open the door to the complex, and none of their magics could break through its dome or move it from its current position without causing more chaos. They had interpreted the description on the door in their own foul and twisted way, and believed that it would be my blood that they would need to get through that door. I did not give them the luxury of finding out and escaped instead…"

"Wait," Elatharia interrupted, looking at him doubtfully, "Are you suggesting that you escaped from a group of Cowled Wizards…on your own?"

"I am not suggesting it," Valygar denied, his dark eyes utterly unreadable as they met hers, "I am telling you. My family has fought magic for…a very long time. I wear certain items forged by my ancestors to protect me from spells. Wizards have a way of underestimating 'sword-swingers' like me and overestimating themselves."

There was a hint of a smirk on the ranger's lips when he quoted her own derogatory term from the day before back to her. Elatharia's good mood vanished, draining from her and leaving bare anger in its wake. Her skin crawled. She thought of Bodhi's offer, and then of Imoen. He geased me the first few times. The most recent time I volunteered.

"Get on with it, ranger," the Transmuter sneered, "I'd like to hear something relevant to the Planar Sphere now."

"My family has fought a curse created by the Sphere's owner, my ancestor Lavok, for centuries. He has bestowed upon his family a great natural talent for magic which has always led to obsession, corruption…and death. And all the while he has stayed locked away in his Sphere, using its enchantments to drift between the Planes. And then, not long ago, that curse caught up to me. It left me as the last surviving Corthala and I have sworn to kill Lavok…to end the curse he began and to finally allow my family line to die out with me."

"Why now?" Elatharia demanded, impatient.

"Yes," Viconia nodded, speaking for the first time since the Transmuter had returned to the house, "It seems a little too convenient, jaluk. You swearing to kill your relative…and his sphere appearing just here in the Slums, waiting for you."

"I sought out the help of the Cowled Wizards. It is not a conversation I am proud of having, or money that I am particularly happy to admit spending, but they have powerful connections…who issued a challenge to Lavok. He has always been prideful, as all wizards are," Valygar's distrustful stare moved from Elatharia, to Jan…to Aerie, who looked particularly saddened by his tone, "Since the Sphere has now returned to Athkatla I believe he has accepted my challenge. And it is one that I will gladly take."

"This 'Lavok' of yours must be preposterously old, Valygar," Mazzy pointed out now, "How is this possible?" she glanced at Haer'Dalis, "Could it be the nature of the sphere? You mentioned before that it moves between the Planes."

"That would not be enough," Haer'Dalis denied, "Our Eagle has suggested that this Lavok has been alive for centuries."

"I would wager that a wizard like this is now a lich," Elatharia agreed, "Which, I suppose, means that we will be facing a lich today. You really are going to be glad that you sided with a group that can boast four mages and three clerics." She showed with her clipped tone that she was not particularly glad for him.

"Perhaps I will be," Valygar agreed rather dubiously after a moment.

"Well that's all settled then," Korgan grunted into the silence of mutual glaring, pushing himself up to his feet with a grunt and stretching with a series of impressive crackles, "I'm fer headin' off straight away once yer Red Wizard's got 'ere."

Valygar nodded to this, and a chorus of agreements followed. As the party members began to stand and move away to get ready, Viconia moved up to Elatharia, sparing an uncomfortable glance towards where Haer'Dalis lingered – watching them with a little smile.

"You owe me a very detailed explanation, khal'abbil," the drow began as the room emptied, leaving only the three of them behind, though she still switched to drow sign language, 'Luckily for you, Aerie is a very trusting little fool. She woke before the others returned and demanded to know where you had gone; I had already thought to tangle up your sheets for you as if you had slept in them, since you had not returned when I went to my bed. She happily spread the unwitting lie to the rest of the group that you had gone for a walk. It seemed very fitting, after your tantrum yesterday.'

"I thank you, of course," Elatharia nodded with a sigh, "And you'll get your explanation soon."

"Does it have anything to do with Edwin? Have you made proper use of the scheming wretch yet?"

Haer'Dalis laughed at Viconia's wording, but Elatharia just glared.

"His proper use is probably as a source of fireballs and summoned…creatures," something scratched at the inside of her skull, pulling uncomfortably at her memories as she said that, and her wince did not go unnoticed by either the drow or the tiefling – both of whom raised their eyebrows at the hint of intrigue, "And no, it has nothing to do with Edwin. At least not in the way you're implying," she paused, and then signed instead, 'It's so much better than that. And I think half of our party might try to kill me outright if they knew.'

"That sounds like my kind of plan, khal'abbil," Viconia smirked, and Haer'Dalis burst into laughter at her tone. Elatharia had no way of telling whether or not he had understood the signed part of their conversation – but if he had, he hardly seemed bothered by it, and that was what mattered.