Out Of The Shadows
Chapter Fourteen:
Every Good Boy Deserves Zombies
This was the one door in the building Imoen hadn't been able to open, on the second storey where all the bedrooms were, at the back. It looked perfectly ordinary, apart from the fact that she could feel through her skin when she touched it the familiar hum and vibration of magic. When she examined it further, she realised there were two invisible runes keeping it shut tight; if you tried to disable one, it was quickly recharged by the other. That was why she needed Aerie's help; the only way through was to disable both locks at the same time. And with most of the guild downstairs enjoying the festivities (Yoshimo was supposed to be showing them all a card game he picked up on his journey west), the time might as well be now.
The redhead guided the Elf's hand, placing it flat against the wood just a bit beneath where the handle was. Imoen placed her own hand a bit above. "You ready?" She asked. The Elf gave an affirmative nod. "On three… one, two…"
"Oscail!" A pulse very briefly rippled through the air around both women and, as if there was ever any doubt, the door creaked and opened slightly. There was no time to celebrate; someone could be along any moment. Imoen had a small mirror on the end of a stick that she pushed through the small gap that had appeared, using it to confirm that the room beyond seemed empty, and then quickly ushered herself and Aerie inside, closing the door again after them.
"Well, this is a…" a study. Shelves and books, a very wide desk with an ink well and feathery quill lying on it, red carpet, paintings, a small harp sitting on a pedestal. All rather more lavish and decorative than the very austere furnishings in the rest of the guild, but still all rather nondescript. "A bit disappointing, really," Imoen finished her thought. She didn't know what she'd expected to find, but something more interesting than this. "There's gotta be something in here… maybe in the desk…"
Imoen plopped herself down in the red padded chair and started rifling through the drawers. Documents, accounts… Mae'Var was doing quite well for himself, it seemed. Better than could really be expected for a little guild like this. He'd invested in that new sparring room and training facilities and put quite a bit aside for some unimaginatively titled 'Project Z'; nothing else about that in here. But the income he was making from all the pickpocketing and burglary didn't add up; it wasn't enough to cover all the expenses. Not without all these 'charitable donations'… mysterious, but enough yet to bring to Bloodscalp. There had to be something more in here; you didn't going to the trouble of using magic to seal a room like this just to hide your accounts.
Aerie still wasn't really sure what it was they were looking for. She'd seen plenty of evidence of wrongdoing, but what was wrongdoing to The Shadow Thieves? In the stories she'd read, a man like Renal would just get an assassin to take care of Mae'Var if he wanted him out of the way, or kill the man himself. But apparently even Thieves had rules, codes. She supposed it made sense; if they all just went around stabbing each other every time they disagreed, there'd soon be none left. The universe could be a chaotic place, but it seemed life everywhere always sought order, whether it was conscious of it or not.
But in any case, it was clear she would have to leave Imoen to find… whatever it was. The Elf started browsing the shelves and the books; they were mostly encyclopaedias, historical texts, myths, legends… but as fascinating as all that was to her, she found herself drawn to the large painting in the middle of the wall. She hadn't seen too many of those in the circus. It was a bard, she thought, sat in a room a lot like this one, writing down the score to his latest melody. Aerie found it hard to keep up with the ever changing fashions in Amn; every time the Circus visited Athkatla the noble men and women had changed their look somehow, usually in ways she found needlessly extravagant and that made them look more like clowns than people. But she guessed the painting was about one hundred years old, since the bard was wearing one of those collars that made him look a duck who had swallowed a plate. Elves lived a long time and grew up slowly compared to Humans, but Aerie was young; one hundred years was almost twice her age. It was strange to her to think that the man in the painting was probably long dead. It was so life like, as if he was actually looking at her right now… well, not quite at her.
The blonde followed the Bard's eyes across the room, to the harp on the pedestal. Sometimes Avariel, when they had wings, were mistaken by Humans for Devas or Angels; some Avariel even tried to take advantage of this, accepting people's worship and jewellery and gold. Of course, such practices were widely frowned on by the rest of Avariel society and considered extremely immature. Not that there weren't some Avariel who played harps, of course. Aerie herself however had never learnt to play any instrument. There were times when she had wanted to, when she younger, but… she just had so much else going on then, with her drawing and painting and writing stories, arranging games and activities for the other children – oh yes, she'd been a bit of a leader back then – and of course, flying off to have her own 'adventures' on an almost daily basis. She just never had time for music.
Which was a shame, because this harp looked very familiar somehow… she looked back at the painting, and… yes. There, at the back, behind the notation… could it be the exact same harp?
"I-Imoen…" the Elf beckoned. The redhead hastily shut the drawers and came across, one eyebrow arched questioningly, while her other was crunched up and perplexed. Aerie pointed at the painting, and back at the harp. It took Imoen a moment longer than Aerie to put them together.
"Oh!" The redhead's face lit up. "Uh… don't suppose you know how to play, do you?" The Elf smiled, shaking her head. "Right… well, I did have a couple of lessons from Garrick… before I realised I wasn't going to be able to play any symphonies within a tenday, so I packed it in. Anyway… seems simple enough; single notes and all…"
Imoen plucked at a few strings. There was no doubt, Aerie thought as she felt each tone vibrate through her skin, that there was just something magical and relaxing about harp music. Although, perhaps not so much when Imoen was playing it. "Okay," the redhead announced, "that's C… I hope." She looked back at the notation in the painting. "Every Good Boy Deserves Fun, right? Okay, I've got this…" the redhead started to play. Perhaps a little slowly, but there was no doubt as to the tune…
E E F G G F E D C C D E E D D… Ode To Joy. Aerie knew that because they had used it in the Circus during some performances. It was a good tune; quite uplifting… at least, when it was being played by people who knew what they were doing. Quayle had told her once that its composer had been accused of planar plagiarism, whatever that meant. He always denied it, anyway.
In any case, after Imoen had played a few bars of it, they heard a 'clank', the grinding and the turning of gears, and the bookshelf next to the painting swung open, revealing another doorway.
"A musical key," Imoen grinned as she entered, Aerie close behind her. "Pretty neat. Whatever will they think of next?"
Aerie's lit up in the next room, even though it was slightly smaller than the first. But this… this was something she had read about in storybooks but had never dreamed she would actually see for real. Bubbling cauldrons, shelves stacked with jars… was that actually eye of newt? And tables covered in glass bottles and tubes and pipes rising above them, twisting around each other as red and green fluids boiled and distilled… it was a proper wizard's laboratory.
The Elf leant over, peering closely at an alchemical experiment. On the other side of the table Imoen sniggered at seeing the Elf's wide blue eyes magnified even wider by the glass. There was some brownish goo or slime in a jar at one end of table, connected by glass tube to another jar, and then another all in a row, all with a magical flame beneath them. Different things boiling off at different temperatures… maybe they were just trying to figure out what the slime was made of, or they just needed the ingredients inside for something else… there was a book filled with notes that Aerie started to thumb through… she had to pull her thumb away in a hurry…
"Don't play with that!" Aerie jumped back, just avoiding the book as it was slammed shut. Losing her wings was bad enough for an Avariel, but all tool using beings on Faerun really relied on thumbs more than anything else. The wizard, the one with the red robes and little dark beard now peering angrily at her, must have been invisible when they'd entered the lab…
The Elf swallowed her surprise, tried to straighten herself out and then bowed apologetically. "Um… s-sorry, sir."
"Edwin?" Imoen blinked, still surprised. "Edwin Odesseirron; is that you?"
The wizard slowly turned his head and glared disdainfully at the redhead, like he'd just trodden in some pooh. "Yes… I was wondering how long it would take you to find your way in here," he said with a nasal twang that seemed to cause Imoen a little pain around her ears. He started gliding away from them, his feet hidden beneath the red robes, muttering to himself. "(I would have preferred less scrupulous mercenaries to do my bidding, but this is what providence has provided me; I shall have to convince them that I am in the right, as I always am, of course…)"
"Who… who is he talking to?" A bemused Aerie asked. Imoen shrugged.
"So… Edwin… Ed… Eddy," the redhead addressed. "You still don't mind if I call you that, right?"
"Whatever you insist," the wizard sighed resignedly.
"So, Eddy-Baby… how'd you end up here?"
"My superiors in Thay were rather disappointed by my results in Baldur's Gate…after we failed to get through to Sarevok, I was supposed to deliver you to them. But you were so weak and pathetic and powerless it hardly seemed worthwhile."
"Er… yeah," the weakling Bhaalspawn counted to ten, "thanks."
"In any case, they insulted me by calling me incompetent… a slight they will all pay for in time. So rather than return to Thay, I travelled south to Amn, to where I knew there would be enough coin to pay for my services, which are of course always highly in demand. Met Mae'Var… why is that pointy eared brat giving me the evil eye?" Aerie was indeed glaring suspiciously at Edwin.
"Yeah, kid… its rude to stare like that. What's up with you?"
Never judge book by its cover; Aerie might not have looked like a confrontational type, and for the most part, she wasn't. But there were certain things which, for obvious reasons really, really irked her.
"Aren't Red Wizards involved in slavery?" She asked, keeping her eyes locked on Edwin.
"Slavery?" Edwin cocked his brow. "Why, yes, there is a little bit of that in Thay. Rest assured, however, that I do not approve of it. There is a natural hierarchy, of course; those who are born to lead, and those who are born to serve. It's in the blood, you see; you can't expect people who have spent generations working fields to run a nation. Dare say I would not be too good working a plough (although of course I would master it quicker than most, if by some horrific accident of fate I were forced to). People simply need to be educated enough so that they accept their place freely, without the need for whips and chains. (There; that should convince the tarsiiforme primate that I am really on the side of the angels…)"
"Um… okay," Aerie became lost in Edwin's words, as he often unwittingly did to people. She spoke out the side of her mouth to Imoen. "D-did he just call me a big eyed monkey?"
"Probably," the redhead shrugged. "Anyway, Eddy, you're lucky Jaheira or Minsc haven't seen ya," she sighed, "don't know I'm gonna break the news to them that you're here… probably gonna need to wear full plate armour when I do. Anyway, you say you've been waiting so you'd better tell us what you want."
It wasn't until much later that Imoen explained to Aerie all about Edwin; she'd already gathered that he was a Red Wizard from Thay of course, another place Aerie would have liked to visit, to view its supposedly truly grand cities and houses of knowledge and learning, were it not for the fact that those cities were built on the backs of slaves. He had apparently fought with Dynaheir, Minsc's witch, who had been despatched from neighbouring Rasheman to investigate the Iron Crisis. So, the warrior wasn't going to be pleased to see him. Jaheira had just never liked him either, and she tended to hold a grudge; it wouldn't have surprised if the druid didn't suspect him of some involvement in their capture. But Imoen didn't think so; certainly, Edwin was a treacherous scumbag who only ever looked out for himself, but he wasn't a terrific liar. Besides, he hadn't been there…
Aerie could only trust in Imoen and in the evidence of her own eyes. Unless he tried any evil acts that might result in her friends getting hurt, she would accept him as an ally. Besides, she guessed it was his work in the sparring room with all the quantum thingies… there was clearly a lot she could learn about magic from him, if he was willing to share at least a little... But back in the present:
"Come," Edwin was beckoning them over to a font in the corner of his laboratory, "I give you my word; you will be very interested in seeing this…"
A scrying pool. The water rippled, and then settled into an image of Mae'Var's basement. Imoen flinched when she saw the cages again… she could feel the cold bars pressing against her neck, and then Mae'Var standing there with his knives. She tensed… she knew it wasn't her in the cage, and it wasn't Irenicus, but even so she could feel her blood quickening… she heard Aerie gasp too. Of course, the Elf hadn't any good experiences of cages either. Imoen put a hand on her friend's shoulder, leaning on her a little bit. The Elf did likewise. Edwin had no idea what either of them had been through, and he did not care. He just kept trying to draw their attention to the pool.
Mae'Var was standing at the back, beyond the cages, next to a table, exactly as he had been when Imoen had first met him. Only now, there was a body on the table, lying naked with his chest cut open and blood dripping into a puddle on the floor… Mae'Var casually pushed a bucket under the dripping blood with his foot. Imoen felt Aerie tighten her grip around her; it was assuring to have someone nearby who felt the same way she did. She didn't know if Bloodscalp was really any better, but she hadn't seen him torture anybody. Mae'Var really needed to be taken down. She really needed to do it.
Another man entered the scene. It took a moment to register, but it was Zyntris, the one who had tried to start something with Aerie when they had first entered the guild. Mae'Var turned and greeted him… Imoen saw their mouths move.
"Can we hear what they're saying?" The redhead asked Edwin.
"We should be able to…" Edwin looked puzzled for a second, scrutinising the small arcane writing all around the fonts rim. He then hit the side of it with his palm a few times. "There you go (cheap second hand rubbish…)"
"What happened to Embarl?" Zyntris sniffed.
"Hmmm? Oh, yes… him," Mae'Var grinned and started to creep in a circle around the rogue. "He wanted to run away. Thought he might get the idea into his head to talk to others about me, so I decided to ask him some questions. He wasn't very forthcoming at first. Then he was. Then he went deathly quiet all of a sudden. Funny how that keeps happening here."
"Heh… Y-Yeh… yeah," the thief chuckled very nervously.
"Am I scaring you, Zyn?" Even through the pool, Imoen could see how much Zyntris was sweating as the Guildmaster circled him like a one eyed predator.
"No… no boss… course not."
"You know, I used to think fear kept people honest. But I see now that was wrong; I mean, you were lying just then, weren't you? Because you were afraid."
"No, boss!" The thief protested.
Mae'Var tutted. "See, how can I trust you Zyn when you just won't tell the truth? Now, I'll ask you again; do I scare you?"
"Well," Zyntris gulped, "a-a little boss, yeah."
"Why do I scare you?"
"Well," he gulped again, nodding towards the corpse.
The Guildmaster froze for a second, and then slowly widened his grin. "Doesn't inspire much confidence in a man, does it?"
"No boss," Zyn chuckled.
"Smells pretty bad too, huh?"
"Sure is boss… heh."
"But that's good; you dropped your bravado there and you were honest. It's all I ask from people Zyn, is that they be honest. Now, you want to tell me how you got that black eye and cut lip there?"
"Is nothing boss… just an accident."
Mae'var's smile instantly turned around. "See, now you're lying again Zyn. A little birdie tells me that you got into a fight with the newcomers. You started trying to bully one of them and ended falling flat on your arse. Is that about right, Zyn?"
"Just a… a little too much to drink, boss."
"See, what bothers me Zyn, apart from the fact you got beat up by a woman and a skinny girl, is it comes across like you're trying to be in charge here. That wouldn't be the case, would it Zyn?"
"No, boss," the thief looked up, trying hard to keep both his eyes on his boss's one eye. "L-like I said… just a little too much to drink."
"That right?" The guildmaster stared back, trying to find the truth in the man's soul. "Heh… I believe you," he said at last. Zyntris breathed, his arms dropping slightly as Mae'Var turned away from him. "Come here… I want to show you something. You got a knife?"
"Boss?" Zyntris looked wary, as well he should.
"Don't worry; I ain't gonna stab you with it. Just give me one of your knives."
"Er… sure… sure boss… here…"
"Oh… that's nice," Mae'Var grinned, gently turning over the blade in his hands. "Those your initials there on the pommel?"
"Yeah… it was a gift from an old mate of mine…"
"So you've had it a while?"
"Yeah… few years…"
"Perfect," Mae'Var stepped to very back of his charming cellar. There was a bench there, and on it a box… Imoen could tell the box had some sort of magical enchantment on it, but couldn't tell what. In any case, Mae'Var unlocked the box with a small key, and dropped in the knife. He then pulled a lever on the wall and a part of it fell away.
"Don't get what's going on, boss…"
"Like I said Zyn; I only asked you to be honest. But you weren't. You lied. They all lie. You really just can't trust anyone these days," as he spoke, a figure started to lurch out of the gloom into the dungeon. Gaunt, pale, dragging one leg along the ground, it's skin dropping off in places; it seemed to be only held together by the leather straps all around it. And another like it followed. "But you see, Zyn, I will have an army of thieves and assassins all doing my bidding. And you get to be the first to see it in action. Enjoy the privilege, for about the thirty seconds you have left."
"By Mask… i-is that you Lin?" Zyntris looked disgustedly at the creature, but backed away fearfully. The creature's head twisted, it's milky eyes coming to settle on the rogue. "L-Lin?"
The creature snarled, and started to run forward with surprising speed, others not far behind. The thief tried to reach another one of his knives, but it was too late. The creatures fell on him and with their hands and teeth they just… they tore him apart.
"That's enough," Imoen fell forward slightly, leaning on the font as Edwin dispelled the image. She could feel another headache coming on… "A-Aerie…" she gasped.
"Are you okay?" The Elf still had an arm over her. Imoen blinked, squinted, rubbed her forehead…
"Yeah," she said at last. "I think so. I just… zombies. I hate zombies."
"He's gone quite, quite mad," Edwin sighed.
"So why did you show us this, Edwin?"
"To make sure you were properly incentivised, my dear girl. He's insane and he needs to be stopped."
"Pretty damning testimony, coming from you."
"Indeed. It also stands to reason that Renal Bloodscalp must have sent you here; he and Mae'Var have really seen eye to eye. He requires proof to show his superiors in order to have Mae'Var removed, yes?"
"And… you would happen to have that proof, I suppose?"
"I know where it can be found. Mae'Var is being funded the Night Knives; a rather unpleasant group of misfits operating out of Westgate. I suppose with the Shadow Thieves seemingly occupied with this other new guild, now is the perfect time for them to try and make inroads into this city as well."
Imoen had heard of the Night Knives; by all accounts, they made the Shadow Thieves look like missionaries. "Do you know anything about this other guild?" She asked.
"Very little at present. Assassins. Seem to have appeared out of nowhere… but such concerns are beneath me. The proof you require is in a strongbox in Mae'Var's quarters," the wizard reached inside his robes, pulling out a small chain. "And I happen to have the key. You will find his quarters through the door on the opposite side of the cellar from where you first went in. Good luck."
"Wait… you… you're just giving this to me?" Imoen blinked, taking the key regardless. But she knew Edwin… "I don't get it; what's in it for you?"
"Is that not obvious? I want out of this dung heap."
"So why you don't you get the evidence and take it to Bloodscalp yourself?"
"Do I look like a thief to you? Of course there will be a trap or two… but I'm sure nothing someone with your skills can't handle."
"Didn't you swear once to obey me?"
"Did I? Well, verbal contracts, you see; only worth the paper they're written on. Not like the ones we all signed with Mae'Var. Pity you didn't read the fine print on those, since they make it impossible for anyone in this guild to raise a fist against him. Utterly fool proof, I'm afraid, even to your feeble attempts at humour, Miss Creant. They were designed by a genius, after all…"
"Wait… you're saying they have a geas on them?" Imoen blinked; she really did need to be more careful what she signed. "But… I-I didn't sense any magic on them…"
"Did you not hear what I just said?"
"But… why would you do that? It's not like you to be that careless."
"Originally they were to protect myself, naturally…"
"Naturally…"
"Regrettably, Mae'Var found out and changed them. I underestimated him; for a simian, he's quite bright. Mad, but bright. He made especially sure that I signed it; can you imagine someone being that paranoid?"
"You've not much self-awareness, have you Edwin?"
"Hm… what?"
"Never mind. So, let me get this straight; you're saying if I sneak down there, and he catches me, I'll be completely and utterly defenceless, right?"
"Right," Edwin leaned forward, patting her on the head. "Just don't be caught. Now, should you require any more encouragement, perhaps your little friend there will oblige you. Yes? No? In any case, I would prefer getting this done sooner rather than later."
"Fine," Imoen huffed, but she supposed she had no choice. If she could get the evidence, get it to Renal, he'd be able to send his own assassins or whatever to take care of Mae'Var. Jaheira would be disappointed; unfortunately, we all have to learn to live with disappointment sometimes. "Stay here, Aerie."
"But… y-you can't go down there alone," the Elf protested.
Imoen smiled warmly, putting a hand on her arm. "You know anything about picking locks, or disarming traps?" The blonde sagged, lowering her head. "Didn't think so. And you'll just be helpless too if you're caught. I know you want to help… from here, you can keep an eye on me. And him. And if something goes wrong, well, you just get the others and get out of here as quick as you can, got it?" The Elf nodded, sadly but resignedly. "Don't worry, kid. I'm really good at this," the redhead winked, and then left.
Aerie remained standing with her head low for another moment. There had to be something she could to help. Perhaps not this instant, but… she noticed Edwin had several spellbooks, and piles of scrolls.
"Um… e-excuse me, sir?" She said hesitantly; the wizard was already back at the font, with Imoen in his sights.
"Yes? Why do you bother me?" He asked, trying to concentrate. As well as Imoen, he was also keeping a careful on Mae'Var.
"W-would you mind if I looked through your scrolls?"
"Do as you please… there is nothing there I have not fully mastered, anyway."
"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed, even though he wasn't looking at her. She started to rifle through the various parchments… there seemed to be every type of spell she could think of here, but she wanted one in particular. Yes… this was it… this could come in very handy…
Imoen's progress was slow. The hardest part was getting into the cellar without being seen, since there tended to be a lot of people milling about the recreation area in front of the door. She had to wait a long time for someone else to open it, quickly cast invisibility on herself and follow as quickly and as closely as she could. Fortunately the chatter from those milling about, and there were still a few stragglers from the little party they'd had earlier, helped to cover any noise she made. But at least once she was down there, it was very easy to run across to Mae'Var's room.
Picking locks was actually much harder when you couldn't see where your hands were, but she had practiced and soon the door creaked open. It seemed horribly loud to her, but she heard no comment from the other side of the cages where Mae'Var seemed practically glued to his work. She was in.
She guessed Edwin was responsible for decorating upstairs, since Mae'Var's room was just as austere as the rest of the Guild. Few comforts. Well, there was a mirror and a small table on which he presumably groomed himself sometimes. Actually, that could be useful… and now for the safe…
"Seems to be going well," Edwin commented. "Just getting in there at all is in itself an impressive feat for such a monkey as her."
"Right," Aerie had joined him now, praying for Imoen to get out quickly. She peered into the water, keeping an eye on everything there… but her eyelids peeled back when she noticed suddenly what wasn't there. "Edwin… w-where's Mae'Var?" She asked, her voice trembling with panic slightly.
"I… I do not," the panic seemed to infect the wizard somehow, as he started drawing his hand over the pool, moving the view all around the basement. "He was there a minute ago…"
"There!" Aerie cried, her heart skipping several beats. He was in the room… with Imoen. The redhead was leant over the safe, disarming the trap there… she hadn't noticed him. "We have to warn her!"
"We can't!" Edwin hissed, pounding his fist. "This thing only transmits one way… and once he has questioned her he will surely come for me… damn it all!"
There was… something. Imoen felt a presence, the faintest vibration being transmitted through the ground with each step. She waited until she judged it was within range, and then spun around, her fist raised high… instantly her vision blurred and searing pain shot up through her spine and into her skull. Edwin hadn't been lying about the geas.
Seconds later, she felt herself being lifted. A hand tugged at her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her throat. She felt the cold edge of a blade pressed against it.
"You want to tell me what you're doing in my room, girl?" Mae'Var's hot breath on her ear.
She'd been caught red handed, so there was really nothing else for it. "Oh… is this your room?" She snarked. "I thought it was Kelvin the Kobold King that lived here…"
"Why'd you have to do that, girl? Why do you have to lie?" He shook his regretfully, and then spun around, flinging her towards the dungeon door. "You think I didn't know that scrawny coward of a wizard would try to betray me as well? But don't worry; I'm going to make an honest person of you. You and your companions are going to be the newest recruits in my army."