Chapter 17

She reached down, grasped the hem of his robe, and dragged him one-handed across the floor to the end of the bed. Removing another length of rope, Jaheira lifted his arms and began to lash his already-bound wrists to the bed-post.

"Do you remember the last time I was here, Firebead?"

The old man looked up at her pleadingly, struggling to speak through the gag.

"It was three years ago. Khalid and I were going to Waterdeep. You invited us over."

Her voice was calm, yet tinged with barely restrained fury. Satisfied that she had secured his wrists, Jaheira then removed a length of string and began binding his fingers together.

"We asked you if you had found something, anything, no matter how slight or unlikely, that may give us a lead to his whereabouts. And you said..." He flinched and closed his eyes as she tightened the string. "That you had not seen or heard a thing. That you hadn't the slightest idea where he might be."

Firebead opened his eyes to see Jaheira still in her kneeling position, her face barely illuminated by the faint moonlight through the far window. She was not looking at him, but at the opposite wall.

"Imagine. My surprise. When I spoke to someone. And he told me. That Gorion had been in Candlekeep for the past. Twenty. Years." She slowly stood up, turning her head towards the ceiling. "Twenty years."

A deadly silence fell on the room. The only thing Firebead could hear was his own heartbeat and muffled breathing.

"Look at me, Firebead."

Breathing rapidly, the old wizard raised his head. The half of Jaheira's face that he could see was deathly stolid. Dread crept up his legs and spine.

"If you lie to me, I will hurt you."

She paused, then abruptly reached down and removed the gag. Firebead immediately went into a coughing fit, his chin pressed against his heaving chest.

"Jaheira, I was under a geas. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. He forced it on me, he gave me no choice!"

Five long seconds went by. Then, still trying to control his breathing, Firebead raised his head again. Jaheira stood very still, her head facing the opposite wall and only her eyes focused on the man at her feet. Then, very slowly, she turned away, walked to the end of the room, stopped when she reached the wall, stared at it for a full ten seconds, then walked back.

"Candlekeep. Two days ago. Were you there?"

"Yes, yes, I was," replied Firebead, his head bobbing up and down.

"Tell me everything."

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. After a long, deep breath, he slowly and softly began to speak.

"It was a few hours after sundown. I was in the library when the Watchers started rounding up everyone. Visitors, residents, servants. They took us all to the ground floor, then announced that there had been a murder and we were all to be questioned and searched."

Jaheira's eyebrows lowered, and she slowly unclenched her fist. "A murder."

Firebead closed his eyes and shook his head. "A hired bodyguard to one of the visitors." He paused, then looked up at her. "I did not learn of it until later."

Jaheira hesitated, then nodded.

"We were all still being questioned a few hours later. That's when...when I felt it. The geas lifting." Firebead went silent, looking away to the side and avoiding Jaheira's gaze.

"Keep talking," she said quietly, remaining very still.

"I wanted to leave right away, to learn what had happened. If he had lifted it on his own, or..." Firebead gave a fleeting glance at Jaheira before lowering his eyes to the floor. "But the place was still in lockdown. I could not get away. Ja...Jaheira, is this really necessary?" he added, trying and failing to wriggle his increasingly numb fingers.

Jaheira's only response was to blink. Otherwise, she continued to resemble a statue. Briefly closing his eyes, Firebead took another long, deep breath.

"They kept us up through the night, questioning us again, taking down our statements, keeping us in place while they searched our rooms. We weren't pleased, but Ulraunt was having none of it. I later found out why. Then, late the next morning...Elminster came."

Jaheira moved for the first time in minutes, lowering her head slightly to focus further on Firebead.

"He walked right up to me, greeted me warmly, then told the Watchers that Tethtoril had granted permission to let me go." Firebead closed his eyes and shook his head again. "I barely had time to gather my things - they turned my room inside out - before he took me with him right out of Candlekeep." He looked up at Jaheira. "He then told me what he had learned before he came to fetch me; the victim was found in one of the storehouses. No one is certain of why he was there, but Tethtoril believes it was self-defence judging from the man's wounds." Firebead then hesitated and looked away. "I said I needed to see Gorion and...Elminster told me that he had died the night before. Killed in an ambush." He paused for a long time, eyes closed and head turned to the side. "There was a grave made for him in a forest clearing. He took me to it." He paused again. "I am sorry, Jaheira."

After a moment, Jaheira slowly turned away and began to pace the room once more. "What happened next?" she asked, her voice barely audible. Firebead hesitated, glancing at her; the woman's expression was near-impossible to make out in the dark.

"I asked him what had happened, and he told me that from what he had deduced; Gorion's ward, Dorean, was attacked in the storehouse. After killing his assailant, he went and told Gorion, then left Candlekeep with him immediately afterwards. They diverted their course into the woods after something happened on the road, and..." He trailed off, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and continued speaking. "Dorean had a roommate. Imoen. They grew up together. She...followed them." He paused. "Elminster met them on the road. Travelling with two people who are very likely Zhentarim operatives." Firebead went silent for a long moment. "I asked him why he did not stop to help them, and he suddenly started deflecting all of my questions. He seemed...concerned, about something. Agitated, even." Firebead paused in thought, then looked up at Jaheira. "He never mentioned you. Or Khalid."

When Jaheira did not reply, Firebead closed his eyes and took another deep breath, wincing at the increasing numbness in his hands and wrists. "We parted ways soon afterwards. He went north, to Baldur's Gate." He looked up. "That is all I know."

She gazed down at him, then once again walked to the other end of the room. Stopping a single pace from the wall, Jaheira folded her arms across her chest. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, She slowly inhaled and exhaled, her shoulders rising and falling. Firebead opened his mouth to speak and then stopped himself.

The next few minutes felt like hours; there was no sound in the room aside from Firebead instinctively trying to wriggle his bound fingers. Then, without turning around to face him, Jaheira spoke, her voice so low that he barely caught it.

"I want you to tell me everything. All of it, from the beginning."

"Could...could you loosen these ropes first? I can't feel my hands."

"No. I know what you are capable of."

"Jaheira...don't you trust me?"

She slowly opened her eyes, narrowing them at the wall in front of her.

"That will depend on you."

..

Ignoring the furtive, suspicious glares from a passing couple, Montaron pushed open the wooden gate and strode up to the house's front door. He raised a fist to knock, but before he could, the door was flung open, a tiny hand grabbed hold of his shirt, and he was pulled inside by a short, mousy woman. She hurriedly closed and locked the door, then pushed a strategically-placed cupboard in front of it. The woman then scurried around the room, her messy, shoulder-length auburn hair trailing behind her as she peered through the windows and checked their locks before racing upstairs to do the same. She returned about a minute later, immediately and furiously rounding on Montaron who had been idly standing by watching her solidify his image of her as a panicking mouse.

"Are you trying to get us killed!?"

Montaron replied with a bored expression, which only made her angrier.

"Harpers. Harpers."

He shrugged nonchalantly and turned away. "Ain't the first time."

"And that one turned out so well for both of us!" she shouted, throwing her arms up. Montaron ignored her, placing his pack down on the floor. He then looked around the living room.

"There anythin' to eat in here?"

"What in the Green Goddess' name are you doing!?"

"Ye should keep it down," the halfling replied, his voice suddenly becoming dangerously low. The woman hesitated, then lowered her arms and took a long, deep breath.

"There's some cheese and bread in there," she said grudgingly, jerking a thumb at a nearby cupboard. Grunting, Montaron opened it and removed the aforementioned contents along with a wine bottle, hopped nimbly onto a chair while carrying all three, and immediately began his meal.

Several minutes passed with him silently eating and ignoring her pointed glare. She then sighed and sat down across from him, placing an elbow on the table and resting her cheek on the hand.

"I should have known that you'll cause more trouble for me."

Montaron did not answer. He continued to chew his mouthful of bread. She looked away from him and shook her head.

"You said you were going to watch out for his daughter." She brought her hands together, lowering her face into them. "You never mentioned anything about working with Harpers."

"Didn't know," he replied calmly.

"They made you, did they?" she said from behind her hands.

He grunted in response. She gave a long, drawn-out groan.

"Nice place ye got here," said Montaron, looking briefly around the living room before returning to his meal. "What're ye callin' yerself now?"

"I am now Marianne of Baldur's Gate," came the tired, miserable voice hidden behind the pair of small hands. Montaron raised an eyebrow, but made no comment.

"Where's the real one?"

"In the attic. Her husband won't be back for at least a few months."

"Hm."

Silence fell on the duo once again. After a moment, 'Marianne' lifted her head from her hands and stared straight at Montaron, her expression as tired and miserable as her voice.

"I will have to report this."

"Mm."

"If I don't, they'll find out anyway and want to know why I didn't."

"Mm."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing. Because if you don't, it's both our heads."

"Uh-huh." Finishing off his meal with a last swig of wine, Montaron gave his handler an expectant look. She paused, looking back at him, then got up from the table and went upstairs.

She returned a few minutes later and tossed a small pouch onto the table. When the halfling promptly took it and emptied out the contents, she bounded across the room and onto the table in a single leap, covering them with her hands.

Montaron growled irritably. "There's no one watching, I checked. Settle down."

She glared at him before standing up off the table. Rolling his eyes at her, the halfling proceeded to count and examine the gems. He then looked up and frowned at her.

"It's what I was given. We'll just have to hope he'll be satisfied with it."

He continued to frown at her. She glared back and folded her arms across her chest. "You tell them then, if you think it's not enough."

A moment passed. Montaron then huffed and swept the gems back into their pouch. He started to lift his head to face Marianne again and blinked when a letter was held out to him. He hesitated for a few seconds, then took it and slowly checked the seal.

Satisfied that it had not been broken or tampered with, Montaron made to put it away, but hesitated, staring quietly at the envelope. For a few seconds, his expression seemed to soften, and he was just a middle-aged halfling. Then it was gone, replaced by the usual lack of emotion, and he tucked the letter into his shirt.

"You're going to have to do something about those Harpers," Marianne said as he was getting off the chair. "You cannot just let them go when you're done with them."

"Ye need ta stop statin' the obvious," he replied without looking at her.

He had picked up his pack and was putting it on when Marianne spoke again.

"What about Xzar?"

He hesitated. "What about 'im?"

"I...I don't know." . She folded and rubbed her arms, radiating nervousness and uncertainty. "It's just...he's taken an interest in the girl and dwarf as well. What do you think?"

Montaron stood still, his head slightly lowered and his gaze fixed on the floor. After a moment, he silently shouldered his pack, turned away, and walked out through the door into the night.

..

"I told you to get lost."

The man apparently known as Marl stood at one end of their table, glowering down at the quartet seated before him.

On Marl's left, his nose scrunching up at the stink of alcohol, Dorean quickly cast his eyes over him. No hidden weapons or armour. His gaze lingered briefly on the man's arms and broad shoulders. But he looks like a strong one.

The dwarf's gray eyes then snapped to his companions. To his left sat Khalid, who was now across from Marl and seemed to be the current focus of his ire. The half-elf's eyes were wide and darting, his jaw opening and closing as he fought a clearly losing struggle to find words.

Directly across the table from Dorean, Imoen was looking worriedly at the panicking middle-aged barmaid, seemingly oblivious or unconcerned with her group being the main target of Marl's drunken temper.

Next to Imoen and closest to Marl sat Xzar. The wizard had lowered his head to his chin as the local was approaching their table, so much so that Dorean could now barely see his face behind his hair.

The dwarf's gaze lingered on Xzar before he quickly returnined his attention to their latest bout of trouble.

"S-sir, wh-?" Khalid stuttered.

"Don't you call me 'sir'! Don't you dare patronize me!" said Marl, his voice growing louder with every word. "Condescend to me, will you? Think you're better than me 'cos you got a sword and armour?! Or is it 'cos you're an elf?! Is that it?! You think just 'cos your race is older than mine, you can come in here and do as you please?!"

Khalid's eyes continued to dart from side to side. He was clearly at a loss of what to do.

I need to say something. "Calm down, man," Dorean said loudly. "We're not trying to-"

"Not trying to what, dwarf?!" Marl yelled, rounding on him. "Think you'd come in here and show off all your gold for us poor folk to see, eh?!"

He's completely inebriate. Dorean looked around the inn and cursed under his breath; the relief he had felt earlier at the lack of guards in the inn was now gone.

"Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Marl shouted, pointing a finger inches from the dwarf's large nose. "I'm sick of your kind, always goin' on 'bout gems and treasures and temptin' us hard-workin' folk to go out into gods-know-where and get ourselves killed! I hate greedy little swine like you!"

"Don't call him that!" said Imoen, straightening in her seat and glaring up at Marl.

"Shut up!" Marl hollered, fixing Imoen with a hateful sneer. "Makin' good honest men do godsdamn stupid things just to impress a pretty face! Your lot are the worst of 'em all!"

Dorean's face slackened and relaxed, emotion draining rapidly from his face. It took him three whole seconds to realize that his left hand was now gripping the handle of his hidden belt knife.

"Get out!" Marl yelled, waving a burly arm at them. "Get out now, or by Chauntea, I will give you all a drubbing that you'll never-"

Without looking up, Xzar reached out with his left hand and took hold of Marl's wrist. The local froze for a second, looking down at it.

"Wha-?" His head turned to face the green-robed wizard sitting just to his right. "Get your-"

Xzar gave the wrist a small, light squeeze. There was a loud crash as Marl's knees buckled and he lurched forward onto the table. The barmaid gasped and backed away.

Khalid was on his feet in an instant, though he froze with his hand halfway to his sword, eyes darting from Marl to Xzar.

"ARRGGHH! LET-LET GO OF-" Marl tried to push himself off the table with his free hand and let out another strangled cry as Xzar lightly, almost gently gave his wrist another squeeze. There was a second crash as he fell forward onto the table again.

Surprised at his own lack of reaction, Dorean's eyes widened and then narrowed as they focused on the hand now gripping Marl's wrist. The dwarf blinked, then looked up and felt a chill run down his short spine. Xzar had lifted his head and was now staring directly at him.

Everything slowed to a crawl; Khalid standing up with his hand moving to his sword, Imoen leaping to her feet and turning towards Xzar, and the barmaid crying out at the sound of Marl hitting the table again and backing up so much that she was about to collide with a neighbouring table.

The entire world turned gray, with only Dorean and Xzar retaining their colours. The wizard's bright green eyes bored into the dwarf's, wide and searching and yearning.

He heard Imoen's voice, seemingly from far away. Dorean blinked, and the world instantly snapped back to normal.

"Xzar!"

Xzar blinked as well, his expression becoming perplexed, and looked up at Imoen.

"Let him go, you're hurting him!"

The wizard blinked again, looked at Marl whose eyes were now flowing with tears, then back up at Imoen.

"I mean it!" Imoen planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward, glaring down at Xzar. "Let him go right now, or you won't be getting any dinner!"

Khalid froze, staring at Imoen. So did Xzar, Dorean, Marl, the barmaid, and everyone else in the inn.

After a long moment, moving only his fingers, Xzar released Marl who then slowly crumbled from the table to the floor. Ignoring the mewling sounds at his feet, the wizard continued to stare at Imoen as she went over to Marl.

"You okay, mister?"

Dorean leaned sideways in his seat to look. The now-not-very-drunk local had fallen to his knees and was clutching his wrist. The dwarf's eyes narrowed upon seeing the slight bluish-tinge on the skin.

Was that a touch spell? He frowned, glancing at Xzar's hand. But I didn't hear him cast...

It took Marl a few minutes before he could even begin to rise off the floor. He stepped back from the table, cradling his wrist in his other hand and looking fearfully at Xzar who was still staring at Imoen and not paying the slightest bit of attention to him.

"You should go home, mister," said Imoen, giving him a reassuring pat on his left bicep.

Marl looked down at her, his eyes darting repeatedly to Xzar. He then gave a single quick nod and hurried away from them towards the inn entrance.

The silence following his departure was painfully heavy. Dorean did not have to look around to know that the entire inn was now staring at them. Imoen looked around, then returned to her seat and looked towards the barmaid.

"Sorry about that," Imoen said sheepishly. "Our friend here," she patted Xzar on the arm without looking at him. "He has a heart condition."

"...oh."

Their voices were uncomfortably loud in the now-quiet common room. Imoen gave a reassuring smile.

"He's usually very friendly," she said good-naturedly, stroking Xzar's arm in a manner that reminded Dorean of the way she used to pat the cats back in Candlekeep. "Just...please try not to make any loud, sudden noises." She then sat up straight, bringing her hands together and twiddling her thumbs. "So...can we order now?"

The barmaid hesitated, then nodded and went up to their table. She moved slowly and gingerly, shooting nervous glances at Xzar with every step.

As Imoen began ordering one of every dish on the menu, Dorean glanced furtively at Xzar; the wizard was still staring blankly at Imoen. The dwarf's gaze then went to Khalid, noting the grimace and cold glare directed at Xzar that was not unlike Jaheira's.

It was not long before the general hubbub returned to Feldepost's common room, though the noise level was now noticeably much lower, particularly at the tables close to the group's.

Khalid was distracted by Imoen taking it upon herself to order for the absent Jaheira. Thus, Dorean was the only one to notice Xzar's eyes suddenly narrow as they focused on and followed something across the room. The dwarf turned his head to his left, apparently to join in on Imoen and Khalid's conversation, swept a single eye across the common room, and spotted the brown-skinned woman climbing the stairs to the floor above.

His brow furrowing, Dorean quickly inserted himself into the order-for-Jaheira discussion when he realized that Xzar was now looking at him.

..

"You promised me, Eldoth!"

"Yes, my dear, but-"

"You promised to make an arrangement for me!"

"And I have done so, but-"

"Not in Amn! I mean now!"

There was a barely repressed sigh. "Skie, this is no place for your talents. It is too drab and small in scale."

"But I am bored! How much longer do I have to stay shut up like this?"

"Skie...you know how important it is that you-"

"Stay out of sight until we are past the border, I know," she replied dejectedly.

"It is too much of a risk to let you out in public, lest-"

"Lest I be recognized, I know. But...Eldoth...I am bored!"

He pouted, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. "I was not aware that you found my company so tedious, my lady."

Her eyes widened, and she hurried over to him, placing her hands on his folded forearms. "No, no, Eldoth, I did not mean that! It's just..."

"You are bored, yes. I have heard."

She lowered her head morosely. "I know that you are taking a big risk for me, and I am truly thankful..."

"Are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am!" she retorted, pinching his forearms. "Gods, why do you have to be so-"

"Disparaging? Baiting? Snide?" said an amused voice from behind them. Skie jumped, and Eldoth visibly flinched for a half-second before turning around to face the smirking woman leaning against the doorway.

"Safana," he greeted, giving a smile that to his credit only appeared to be very slightly forced. "I shall request once more than you knock before entering other people's rooms."

"But then they would notice me coming in," she replied smoothly. Their eyes met, and they exchanged all-too-pleasant smiles before she looked away to Skie. "Little sister..."

"Stop calling me that," she pouted, though only half-sheepishly.

"May I borrow Eldoth for a moment? I need to speak with him in private."

Skie blinked. "What...what about?"

Safana's smirk widened. "Why, about you, actually. Or to give away a little detail, about something we have planned for you."

Releasing Eldoth's arms, Skie stood straight, her eyes widening as they stared at Safana. "Is it...something illegal?" She asked almost eagerly. "Roguish? Adventurous?"

"Hmm...something like that. But I cannot tell you yet; it is a surprise."

"Aww! Why not?"

"Because, my dear, it's always better when it is unexpected, isn't it?"

The young woman pouted, then huffed. "Very well." She went over and flopped down back-first onto the bed. "I will just lie here. Again."

"I promise you, little sister, that you will not be suffering from boredom much longer," said Safana. "Come, Eldoth."

The bard frowned, but nodded. He waited until they were halfway down the corridor before speaking.

"So what is it that you wish to discuss? Unless your sole intention was to get me away from her."

"Far from it. Sharess smiles on us both, Eldoth Kron."

His frown deepening, Eldoth placed his hands on his hips, waiting for her to speak further.

"She has brought us a wonderful opportunity," said Safana, stretching out the last word as her smirk returned in full force. "And it walked right into this building only an hour ago."