'You didn't kill many drow,' Jarlaxle quickly added. 'Only a handful in the chapel, and no more than two dozen throughout your entire escape. House Baenre will recover, though it may take a while to figure out how to extract your handiwork from their no-longer-perfectly-domed ceiling! House Baenre will recover.'
'But the alliance,' Drizzt remarked, beginning to understand why no drow other than Bregan D'aerthe had come into the runnels in pursuit.
'Yes, the alliance,' Jarlaxle replied, offering no explanation. 'In truth, the alliance to go after Mithril Hall was dead the minute that Drizzt Do'Urden was taken captive.
'But the questions!' Jarlaxle continued. 'So many to be answered. That is why I have come out, of course.'
The three companions looked to each other, not understanding what the mercenary might be hinting at.
'You have something that I must return,' Jarlaxle explained, looking directly at Entreri. He held out his empty hand. 'You will turn it over.'
'And if we don't?' Catti-brie demanded fiercely.
Jarlaxle laughed.
The assassin immediately produced the spider mask. Of course Jarlaxle would need to put it back in Sorcere, else he would be implicated in the escape.
Jarlaxle's eyes gleamed when he saw the item, the one piece left to put into his completed puzzle. He suspected that Triel Baenre had watched Entreri and Catti-brie's every step when they had gone into Sorcere to pilfer the thing. Jarlaxle's actions in guiding the assassin to the mask, though, in precipitating the escape of Drizzt Do'Urden, were perfectly in line with the eldest Baenre daughter's desires. He took faith that she would not betray him to her mother.
If he could just get that mask back into Sorcere—no difficult feat—before Gromph Baenre realized that it was missing…
Entreri looked to Drizzt, who had no answers, then tossed the mask to Jarlaxle. Almost as an afterthought, the mercenary reached up and took a ruby pendant off his neck.
'It is not so effective against drow nobles,' he explained dryly, and threw it unexpectedly to Drizzt.
Drizzt's hand snapped out, too soon, and the pendant, Regis's pendant, slapped against the ranger's forearm. Quick as could be, Drizzt snapped his hand back in, catching the thing before it had fallen half an inch.
'Dantrag's bracers,' Jarlaxle said with a laugh as he noticed the ranger's covered wrist. 'I had suspected as much of them. Fear not, for you will get used to them, Drizzt Do'Urden, and then how much more formidable you will be!'
Drizzt said nothing, but didn't doubt the mercenary's words.
Entreri, not yet free of his rivalry with Drizzt, eyed the ranger dangerously, not the least bit pleased.
'And so you have defeated Matron Baenre's plans,' Jarlaxle went on grandly, sweeping into another bow. 'And you, assassin, have earned your freedom. But look ever over your shoulders, daring friends, for the memories of dark elves are long and the methods of dark elves are devious.'
There came an explosion, a blast of orange smoke, and when it cleared, Jarlaxle was gone.
'And good riddance to ye,' Catti-brie muttered.
'As I will say to you when we part company on the surface,' Entreri promised grimly.
'Only because Catti-brie gave you her word,' Drizzt replied, his tone equally grave. He and Entreri locked uncompromising stares, looks of pure hatred, and Catti-brie, standing between them, felt uncomfortable indeed.
EPILOGUE
The companions did not go back to the cave beyond Dead Ore Pass. With Guenhwyvar's guidance, they came into the tunnels far beneath Mitihril Hall, and Entreri knew the way well enough from there to guide them back to the tunnels connecting to the lower mines. The assassin and the ranger parted company on the same ledge where they had once battled, under the same starry sky they had seen the night of their duel.
Entreri walked off along the ledge, pausing a short distance away to turn and regard his hated rival.
'Long, too, is my own memory,' he remarked, referring to Jarlaxle's parting words. 'And are my methods less devious than those of the drow?'
Drizzt did not bother to respond. 'Suren I'm cursing me own words,' Catti-brie whispered to Drizzt. 'I'd be liking nothing better than to put an arrow through that one's back!'
Drizzt hooked his arm over the young woman's shoulder and led her back into the tunnels. He would not disagree that Catti-brie's shot, if taken, would have made the world a better place, but he was not afraid of Artemis Entreri anymore.
Entreri had a lot on his mind, Drizzt knew. The assassin hadn't liked what he had seen in Menzoberranzan, such a dear mirror to his own dark soul, and he would be long in recovering from his emotional trials, long in turning his thoughts back to a drow ranger so very far away.
Less than an hour later, the two friends came upon the site of Wulfgar's death. They paused and stood before it for a long while, silently, arm in arm.
By the time they turned to leave, a score of armed and armored dwarves had appeared, blocking every exit with engines of war.
'Surrender or be squished!' came the cry, followed by howls of surprise when the two intruders were recognized. In rushed the dwarven soldiers, surrounding, mobbing the pair.
'Take them to the watch commander!' came a call, and Drizzt and Catti-brie were shuffled off at breakneck speed, along the winding ways and through the formal entrance to the tunnels of Mithril Hall. A short distance from there, they found the aforementioned commander, and the two friends were as startled to see him in that position as Regis was to see them.
'The commander?' was Catti-brie's first words as she looked again at her little friend. Regis bounded over and leaped into her arms, at the same time throwing an arm about Drizzt's neck.
'You're back!' he cried repeatedly, his cherubic features beaming brightly.
'Commander?' Catti-brie asked again, no less incredulously.
Regis gave a little shrug. 'Somebody had to do it,' he explained.
'And he's been doing it fine by me own eyes,' said one dwarf. The other bearded folk in the room promptly agreed, putting a blush on the halfling's deceivingly dimpled face.
Regis gave a little shrug, then kissed Catti-brie so hard that he bruised her cheek.
Bruenor sat as if turned to stone, and the other dwarves in his audience hall, after giving their hearty welcomes to Catti-brie, wisely departed.
'I bringed him back,' the young woman began matter-of-factly when she and her father were alone, trying to sound as if nothing spectacular had occurred. 'And suren ver eves should feast on the sights of Menzoberranzan!
Bruenor winced; tears welled in his blue-gray eye. 'Damned fool girl,' he uttered loudly, stealing Catti-brie's cavalier attitude. She had known Bruenor since her earliest recollections, but she wasn't sure if the dwarf was about to hue her or throttle her.
'Damned fool yerself,' she responded with characteristic stubbornness. Bruenor leaped forward and lifted his hand. He had never before hit his adopted daughter, but only managed to stop himself at the last moment now.
'Damned fool yerself!' Catti-brie said again, as if danng Bruenor to strike her. 'Sitting here wallowing in something that ye cannot change, when them things that are needing changing go merrily along their way!' Bruenor turned away.
'Do ye think I'm missing Wulfgar any less than yerself?' Catti-brie went on, grabbing his shoulder (though she could not begin to turn the solid dwarf). 'Do ye think Drizzt's missing him less?'
