Volume II, Part XIII: Neverwinter's Secrets
Sand slowly lowered Torio to the ground and then stood in front of her, protectively. "Gweynn. Just a little spilled blood upstairs, nothing you should be surprised about, since you're so fond of spilling it yourself. But it's nothing an Unseen Servant spell can't fix. Or... can you not cast that either? Cantrips taxing enough for you?" His mind was racing through his list of spells, trying to come up with something he could cast without his components pouch. Guards were beginning to accumulate behind her. "Step aside or I will kill you."
Torio slid against the floor, her feet still bound together, bleeding out and feeling her nervous system slowly shut down, while that...that woman...
Gweynn eyed them coolly. "Pardon me if I claim that you look nothing like something I should be scared of." She lifted a wand, pointing it at Sand. "You could have had it all, wizard," she said evenly. "What are you dying for? A heartless, half-dead Luskan bitch and a city that will deny knowledge of your name as soon as you are discovered within these walls?" She smiled at him coldly. "A shame. I shall regret this, truly. We could have become...close." She flicked the wand, and blast of cold air shot from its tip, slamming into Sand's body.
Sand staggered back, the blast of chilling energy sinking into his chest, making his smarting ribs hurt even further. He gasped for air, but stayed standing over Torio. He put out a hand to steady himself on the nearby wall. "I already have everything I could possibly want." He cast Finger of Death, using the arm that wasn't hanging limply by his side.
Gweynn flew back, slamming into the door behind her, its hinges creaking as she slumped to the ground. The wand fell from her limp fingers, her head lolling forward drunkenly. The guards shouted furiously, launching themselves towards the wizard; one swung his blade towards Sand's head, while the other drew an arrow into his bow, taking a bead on Torio where she lay on the floor.
Sand suddenly wished, for a fraction of a second, that he was human again. Larger, stronger. There was no way he could win this fight against the two guards, as injured as he was. He was hoping something that Gend had taught him had stuck in his mind. Sand threw himself bodily at the archer, knocking him to the ground. He gave a whimper of pain as he landed hard on his broken shoulder, the bone seeming to crunch under him. The other guard's sword swung wide over his head. He could feel the rush of air whizzing past him. Rolling over on his back, still on top of the struggling archer beneath him, he cast the only spell he could immediately think of towards the swordsman: Magic Missiles.
The archer flailed wildly under Sand's body, momentarily trapped underneath the elf's weight and tangled in his bow. He cursed violently as Sand's Magic Missiles hit the swordsman straight in the groin due to the angle Sand cast it at; the swordsman howled in agony, stumbling backwards and tripping flat over Torio's prone form. The archer managed to get an arm free, and flipped his bow over Sand's head, the taut bowstring catching around the elf's throat as he yanked it backwards, attempting to choke him. Sand eyes bugged out as he struggled to breathe, his one good arm failing under the bowstring, trying to hook his fingers under. Too desperate for fine motor skills, he instead brought his elbow down hard against the man's ribs, hoping the effects of the Bull Strength spell were still good. The guard's breath left his lungs in a whoosh as Sand's elbow slammed into his ribs, and for a moment the man's body lay flaccid under Sand's, the grip on the bow slackening.
Torio's mind shocked back into clarity momentarily as the swordsman stumbled over her and a rush of adrenaline filled her; the guard spilled across the floor next to her body, his hands gripping himself as he howled. The sword clattered near her head...
She twisted, her body screaming in protest, closing her hands around the hilt of the blade; unable to lever herself up with her legs tied together, she merely swung it inches above the floor, aiming for the writhing guard next to her. Torio's swing sliced the swordsman across the arm, a fine spurt of blood falling to the floor. He yelped in pain and then his eyes focus on her. "Not a good move, wench." He rolled over, still hurting, and wrapped his hands around her throat.
For a moment Torio panicked, feeling fingers close around her throat and squeezing. She instinctively writhed, her legs bucking...and slamming once again into the man's groin. She flailed with the sword, trying to catch him again, gasping painfully for breath. The man yelled in pain as her knee connected to his already hurting crotch and his hands slackened their vise-like grip. Torio's sword smacked the man across the ear, broadsided but it was enough to stun him momentarily. Torio let out a desperate cry as she twisted her body, swinging the sword as hard as she could, edge first, into the man's neck.
Sand jerked the bowstring over his head, his broken shoulder on fire. The pain was nauseating - how did those fighters do this? He rolled off the archer and while still lying on the ground, cast Magic Missiles directly into the man's face.
The man jerked, not even able to scream as the magic bolts slammed into his face. His body writhed for a moment as the spell ripped into him, and then he lay still, his features charred and blackened and fixed in a permanent expression of surprise.
Sand looked away from dead face. When annoyed, he had always threatened people with a magic missile to the face; but now that he had actually done it... He never enjoyed killing, especially these poor souls who were probably working for the likes of Gweynn and the Arcane Brotherhood for mere pittance. But, as Torio liked to say, needs must...
He sat up just in time to see Torio sink the blade through the man's neck. She struck the jugular; a crimson arc of blood jetted into the air. Sand watched, fascinated, as the blood spurted out in time to the man's dying pulse. His eyes fell back to Torio. She had a glazed, furious expression, gripping the hilt of the sword as if the world's future hung in the balance.
Certainly it did - her world.
Sand would hate to be any person on the other side of her fury. He slowly went over to her. "My dear Torio. It's over." He gently pried the sword from her hands and slowly cut the cords around her ankles. "It's over."
Her fingers resisted for a moment, and then she let go suddenly; she sank back against the floor as she felt the ropes separate and fall away from her ankles. "It's not," she said, her body giving a shuddering jerk, pain lancing through her head. "Antidote. Soon." She rolled over, pushing herself to her feet, her legs moving slowly and with difficulty, one hand clutching the cloak around her body. Her vision swam as she straightened; Sand's face blurred and came into focus and then blurred once again as she blinked at him, her heart heavy. "Any kind...doesn't matter, hemlock's a simple poison. But soon."
Silently, Sand wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her put nearly her entire weight on him. He pressed two fingers to the pulse on her neck. It was erratic, faint... "Ok, dear girl, we're going to get an antidote now." He kept his tone of voice light, soothing but his own heart was beating hard in his chest. He had no idea what he was going to do - what if they ran into more guards, where were they going to find an antidote, how could he carry the very recognizable Torio Claven through the streets, naked, bleeding - without raising a lot of suspicion.
He had no more invisibility spells, had run out of polymorphing spells. He yanked the hood of the cloak over her head and silently prayed to every god and goddess he could think of before descending the long flight of stairs. He couldn't lose her now; not after all that…
The descent down the stairs was made in a haze of color and sound. Torio could feel random, small spasms and twitches race through her body, causing her a misstep here or there. They were approaching a narrow, tall door; she watched almost curiously as Sand pushed it open, and they spilled out into the late afternoon.
They were in a quiet, back street somewhere; the three story tower that rose behind them as Sand pulled her into the shadows lengthening at the side of the street was squat and moldering, looking older than the city itself. She peered out from underneath her hood, trying to think, to recognize a landmark, anything...
"Hist! Here, friends!" A shadow moved on its own accord from down a back alley, beckoning to them.
Sand knew, in a city like Luskan, to run blindly towards a voice in the dark of shadows was a very foolish thing to do and often the last thing you did. But that voice belonged to the first person in a very long time who wasn't trying to kill them. Outright in any case.
Sand picked up Torio as best he could considering his broken bones and carried her into the shadows. Holding her, he could feel the way her muscles were contracting sickly. Her face was so pale, like chalk; her normally clear gray eyes were bloodshot. "Hang on, my dear. We have friends with us now."
An older man, with gray hair and brown eyes, stepped forward, and quickly took Torio from Sand. "Quickly. Follow me. Your rings called me here." He was surprisingly strong and spry and he led them from alley to alley, occasionally through people's yards, always keeping to the shadows. Sand struggled to keep up, seeing the way Torio's head lolled about. He stopped trying to remember the route and just had to trust him.
The man sudden stopped in front of a paint-chipped, weathered door. He knocked twice sharply, paused and then three more times. The door opened and they entered the safehouse.
The ceiling was low by the door...from where her head hung back over the stranger's arm she could see Sand's head brushing against it as he stepped through. Then it rose above them as they moved swiftly and silently down the stairs, and she closed her eyes...just for a moment…
"...found them!! We had a message ready, just in case they broke..."
"...what in the name of..." she heard bottles clattering...she was dropped onto something soft and yielding, hearing the pop of a cork. Her head was tilted back, glassed pressed between her lips, and a thick, viscous liquid slid down her throat. "Steady, girl, steady..."
A younger man stood up, approaching Sand as three other figures dealt with Torio. "You're lucky," he said flatly. "If you were in there any longer, we were going to have to send word to Neverwinter that you had failed." He turned and opened a cupboard, sifting through various colored, grimy looking bottles. "As it stands we still might have to; we've got to get you out of the city, as fast as humanely possible, before the Brotherhood discovers that tower..."
One of the figures by the makeshift bed, a woman, looked over her shoulder at them. "They can't trace that to Neverwinter...to your aliases, maybe," she added, nodding at Sand. "But considering the Couleuvra's don't exist anymore..."
The man began setting out bottles in front of Sand, gesturing. "Healing potions," he said. "You look like you need them." He tossed one, then another, over to the grey-haired man, who caught them and handed them down to Torio; the latter was now sitting up, clutching the cloak around her nakedness, her eyes slightly clearer than before. She took it in shaking fingers, pulling the cork from the top. The grey-haired man chuckled at her quietly as she drank it down. "Interesting to finally meet you in the flesh, Torio Claven," he said. "It's my reports that you get once a week in that Keep of yours, from here at least." He handed her the second bottle as she finished the first. "You're shorter than I would have thought."
The ludicrousness of the comment made her snort in laughter, nearly choking on the potion. Poisoned, tortured, and nearly discovered...and he's surprised at my heigth. "Don't let it fool you," she said dryly. Her voice became serious; she met Sand's eyes briefly, before looking over at the young man standing next t him. "What are our options for getting out of the city?"
The healing potion worked wonders. The cracked bones of his shoulder mended and Sand rolled it cautiously. It still ached and he had to wonder if it would ever be the same again, but he was alive and it was healed. Sand pulled out a nearby chair and collapsed into it, relieved when Torio sat up. She still looked like she had marched through the hells. He could see the scourge marks across her front and he flinched in sympathy. The wounds would heal, but would she? "I think we killed everyone who saw us as Sand and Torio, and not the Couleuvra's. No fear, Neverwinter's secrets are safe once again." He was bitter and it showed.
The young man sat down at the table across from Sand. "You are tired and have gone through a great deal. I do not begrudge you your words." He leaned forward. "Ideally we would like to get you out by the gates but that is riskier than necessary and certainly doomed to fail." He tapped his fingers on the table and then glanced at Torio. "I propose this. Wait a few days, rest, heal. Talk to us, tell us what happened and what you have learned. Do you have the map?"
Sand nodded, and tossed the belt onto the table. "Polymorphed, my friend. They never suspected it."
The young man's face broke out into a wide grin. "Clever! I can see why Nasher picked the two of you. Can you activate it for me?"
Sand waved his hand over the belt, dispelling the magic. The leather belt shrunk to less than half its length and then stretched out flat, back into the tawny golden blank hide. He tapped the hide with his finger. "Lethoveruminum."
Faint silvery lines appeared from the hide, like running quicksilver. A rough outline of the city of Luskan formed and then little specks materialized, moving about the streets, with miniature names following them about. Sand scanned the hide until - there - he saw hidden in a small square, several unmoving dots... the names Sand and Torio, stationary...
The young man politely but firmly pulled the map from Sand. "Thank you. We will return it to Neverwinter. Probably after today, you never want to look at another map."
Torio could feel the shredded skin on her back knitting back together, and glanced down. The marks across her flattened stomach were pale white against the smoothness of the rest of her skin; she didn't even want to look at her back. "Hmph," she said. "Not to ruin the seriousness of the moment, but I would be eternally grateful if anyone had an extra set of clothes? I think I've been naked enough these last two days as it stands."
The woman gently took her arm and helped her off the bed. "Follow me, we'll get you something. And places to sleep, I'm sure you're both exhausted." She gave a sharp look to the younger man pointedly, before drawing Torio into a side room. The entire structure seemed small and confined, and there was barely enough room for the both of them in the small storage room as the woman rummaged around through piles of clothing. Torio gazed around; there was food, dried and jarred, on the shelves, kegs of ale and water, papers, ink, quills, books, shoes, weapons...anything that a spy might need was stashed in haphazard organization around the small storage room.
She turned back to the woman, only to have a handful of cloth shoved into her hands. "Nothing as fine as what Nasher supposedly gave you for your mission," she said quietly, "But it'll cover you." She gave Torio a long, considering look, before turning and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
Torio shook out the nondescript clothing; a tunic and trews, a belt. She felt her lip curling wryly as she slipped into them, belting the tunic around her waist tightly. No Proskurian silk to rip here. She felt a wash of nausea suddenly take her, and she pressed her forehead against the wall for a moment. She had said... She couldn't believe what she had said. She had never even thought...hadn't considered it for a moment, that she was even capable...But then the words had come spilling out like a virtual torrent and she hadn't been able to stop them…
What was she going to do? She couldn't afford this type of liability; neither of them could, especially if Nasher intended to continue using them...using her...on dangerous missions. It was a weakness and a luxury and ultimately completely dangerous. Damn this entire mission to the hells. She opened the door, stepping back out into the room, her head buzzing painfully.
Both Sand and the young man looked up when Torio re-entered the room. Sand gave her a small smile. "Why my dear girl, I don't believe I have ever seen you in pants before. And with your short hair, you almost look like a boy." His tone was jesting, but his blue eyes were trained on her, steady.
The older spy laughed and gave her a kind, grandfatherly smile. "Well worse comes to worse, we dress her up as a boy and send you both on your way. The last thing the Hosttower would suspect would be Torio Claven as a male!"
The younger spy looked back at them. "Luskan is the City of Sails for a reason. A ship will be your best bet out of here. We will contact a mercenary who works for us on occasion and see if he can't smuggle you out on his next run out to sea." He stood. "If there is nothing else, I would recommend getting some rest. There's the bed here, and we can find a bedroll and put it in the storage room. You both did very well - better than many a veteran spy would have done. I will be sure to impress that fact upon Lord Nasher. We all owe you a world of debt and gratitude."
The older spy walked into the storage room and laid out a simply bed roll, blankets and pillows. "Sand, I hope you don't mind sleeping in here and giving Torio the bed. I think she's had the worst of it."
Sand rubbed his eyes. As soon as they were gone, he would be in her bed with her anyway. He needed sleep. Badly. But there was so much that needed to be said. "Oh no, of course not. I would never think to take the bed from her. She probably wouldn't let me have it without a fight anyway. But...thank you for coming to find us. We owe you our lives."
The spies in the room smiled quietly and then departed, closing the door behind him. They were finally alone, and for the moment, safe.
Torio felt the expanse of room stretch between them as they looked at one another for a long moment. He was standing in the doorway to the storage room, watching her. She simply turned and walked towards the bed, avoiding his eyes and pulling the blankets back. "See if you can bring that pillow in from the bedroll," she said lightly. "There's only one here." She moved towards the small, narrow staircase; the air felt thick, heavy around her as she stood on her toes, reaching up towards the oil lanterns burning gently on the wall and turning them down.
Sand obediently picked up the extra pillow and watched her move across the room. Her footsteps carried an added weight to it that had not been there before, either from exhaustion or pain or something else entirely...
He lay the pillow down next to hers on the narrow bed and waited for her to approach him. He suddenly felt unsure. He had given her up to Asrar; gods only knew what had happened between them (though Sand remembered with disquiet that she had drunk the pink potion quite willingly). Then she had...
She had told him that she loved him while being tortured and under the influence of a poisonous truth serum. He took a small step towards her, hesitating, then held out his arms for her.
She looked at him for a long moment. It felt difficult just to draw in a breath. There was too much that happened in the last few days; the easiness between them that they had gained on the road to Luskan now seemed miles away.
And yet...She walked forward, sliding her arms around his neck; she buried her face against his shoulder, hugging him fiercely, her body loosening wearily as she sank against him. For the first time in 24 hours, she wasn't clinging to him for support, for cover, or for an impromptu invisibility spell, and she sighed, her arms holding him close.
When she hugged him, he thought his heart was going to burst. He inhaled - underneath the blood, sweat, dirt, damp and fading desperation, he could smell her again - books and candles. He pulled her onto the bed, not letting go of her for an instance, an irrational fear in the back of his mind that if he let her go, she'd fade away and dissipate somehow in the darkness. He awkwardly tried to tuck them both in. The bed was small and the only way the both of them to fit was if he held her firm to his body.
Not that he minded. He wondered briefly what the spies would say if they came down and saw them like this.He quietly sent her a message. Dear girl, are you all right?
She shifted downwards somewhat, laying her head against his chest. The blankets were coarse, rough against her chin as Sand managed to wriggle them up around them. Yes, she thought at him. I'm fine, now. She stroked his chest absently. "You?" she asked quietly. "I didn't see how many potions they had...your shoulder...?" Insensibly she turned her face, pressing her mouth against his shoulder. After a moment, she whispered, "Do you think Nasher is going to keep asking us to perform these missions? Being successful is well and good, but..." She trailed off, looking up at his face.
Sand began stroking her hair and then tracing his finger along the back of her neck. She was so warm. "My shoulder will be all right in time, Helkaer. You were a bigger concern anywhere. You really did give us quite the fright." He kissed her forehead.
"Knowing Nasher, I can safely say that one successful mission will only lead to being sent on another until..." He left the words unspoken. "I went from being a lowly informant in the Docks, to serving as main counsel to the Knight Captain - which by the way, dear girl, I think is now a blessing in disguise since it led to you ultimately landing in my lap - to companion in the fight against the King of Shadow to full-fledged spy for Neverwinter. It would not surprise me, my dear Torio, if next he would ask that I serve on the Nine or some such nonsense." He sighed and squeezed her.
Her voice was wry. "Rather directly in your lap, I would say." She nuzzled his neck, her thoughts troubled. Would Nasher reward them when they returned? She wriggled her wrist momentarily, feeling the bracelet shift slightly...Was it even worth it?
She had had her very heart torn from her and thrown out into the open...she'd had her body used and broken and her mind violated. You have a bed, with Sand still in it, and you're still alive, and it's over...for now. Almost over.
She kissed his neck lightly. "If being one of the Nine means taking Nevalle's job, that might actually mean you would get to stay back in Neverwinter all the time." She couldn't help the wry smirk twisting her mouth. "Polishing Nasher's sword."
He made a small, happy noise when she kissed his neck. Then he snorted at her comment about Nevalle. "Taking Nevalle's job? I may as well take away his reason for living, or castrate him or kick helpless puppies in front of him for fun. The poor man wouldn't know what to do with himself after." Sand shifted his body slightly, getting comfortable and then said, "I think I would much rather face a Shadow Reaver than...polish Nasher's sword. The latter is decidedly much more unpleasant."
Sand closed his eyes but continued speaking. "More days in Luskan. Probably hiding in this hole and being questioned about our experiences." He remembered his naive thoughts about this mission being like a 'holiday'. "Our experiences in Luskan have been lousy thank you very much. May we have a refund?"
"I am not one for revenge, dear girl," said Sand and he opened his eyes to face her. "But I will admit, I did derive a certain amount of pleasure from killing Keldrin."
She stared at him for a moment, her face inches from his; her eyes flashed darkly. "I don't blame you," she said quietly. "When I..." She paused, remembering how Orban had died with a satisfactorily surprised look on his face. "I don't blame you," she merely repeated. Her mouth curled in a dark smile. "But I, however, am one for revenge, so probably not the best lady to ask." She cringed mentally at the thought of reliving the entire experience over again while they were relaying their information to Nasher's spies. "We…only have to tell them what's necessary," she said carefully.
Sand gave her a questioning look when she censored herself but did not press the matter onward. She would speak to him when she was ready, he supposed. "Yes, we will keep our debriefing strictly business. I doubt they would care about the more personal aspects of what we had to do to accomplish the goals so much as the fact we had."
She shut her eyes, curling against him, and kissed him lightly. "Maybe we can fake illness the next time a mission is pressed upon us." She nestled against him wearily.
He pulled her closer. "Fake an illness? Why fake it when I have spells to give us real, temporary sicknesses? Only the best for you, dear girl. Why don't you sleep now? You need to regain your strength and I need to refresh my memory."
She snorted, stifling a yawn. "I appreciate the offer for authentic illness, I'm sure." She huddled down and shut her eyes, feeling sleep creep up on her even as she murmured drowsily, "Saved my life again, Bodaes...what would I do without you..." She was almost instantly asleep, her fingers curled lightly against his chest from where they had been stroking him, her body relaxing in one, deep exhale as she sank into unconsciousness.
Sand waited until he was absolutely certain she was asleep, waiting until her breathing had become regular, the drawn muscles of her faced relaxed and her eyes began flickering in a dream. He pressed his lips to her forehead, his eyes tightly shut and breathed out, "Amin mela lle." I love you.
Sand sighed at having finally said the words; they had been tickling the back of his tongue for days now. Even if she was asleep and didn't hear...it was probably better that way in any case. He wasn't ready to think more about it, or to let her know just as he was certain she hadn't been ready to disclose her feelings to him. He would merely pretend she hadn't said anything and would wait until she told him of her own free will. This was an arrangement with himself with which he could live.
There was a click and the far door opened. The woman stepped back through the door and her eyes widened at the sight of Sand holding Torio in one bed. He lifted his head and pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded and approached with the stealthy grace of a rogue and knelt by the bed.
"Floor not comfortable enough for you?" Her eyes were shining. "I just came back to see if she was sleeping all right... she went through a lot...Sometimes people don't sleep well afterwards."
Sand shook his head slightly, "The floor was fine; the bed is preferable. I...ah...just wanted to comfort her as she fell asleep for those very reasons. I hope this won't be a problem?" He gave her a meaningful look.
She gave him a small smile of understanding, "Not at all, Sand. People can become close on these missions. It is not unheard of but I understand the need for discretion. I'll warn the others away from the room until you are ready for the waking world." She patted his hand and left, locking the door.
Sand sighed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.