secret passage that leads into the sewer system. We're at low tide, so the sewers should be passable. We can get out that way.'
Cale paused, thinking, weighing the options. Both were long shots, but Stevedore's Way was closer. 'Are you certain it's secure? If the Zhents catch us in the sewers…' He left the result unspoken.
Jak hesitated only an instant. 'I'm sure,' he said at last. 'The Zhents don't know about it.'
'All right,' Cale acceded with a nod. 'Let's go then.'
They raced headlong across the rooftops, heedless now of anything but escape. Moving from building to building, they leaped an endless succession of alleys, the voids beneath their feet promising death for any misstep, all the while harried by the shouts of men below and behind. At last, winded and sweating even in the cold, they descended the face of a warehouse and stood in the shadows of Stevedore's Way.
'There,' Jak whispered. The halfling's stubby finger indicated a narrow alley ten paces ahead.
Two black-cloaked men stood near the mouth of the alley with blades drawn. Their wary stance and alert gaze proclaimed them Zhentarim. Cale silently slipped his long sword from its scabbard. Darkness would provide cover enough to mask his approach. The Zhents would be dead before they ever saw him. 'Stay here,' he hissed to Jak. 'I'll take care of them.'
Jak gripped him gently by the forearm. 'Wait, Cale. Wait.' The halfling's voice sounded strained. 'No more… no more blood tonight, all right? I'll use a spell to immobilize them.'
The halfling's pleading gaze dredged up enough of the reborn Erevis to dilute the now predominate old Cale. The butler gave a reluctant nod. Jak blew out a soft sigh and patted him on the arm.
Hurriedly, as though he was afraid Cale might change his mind, Jak closed his eyes and uttered a soft prayer, invoking the power of Brandobaris. He pointed a finger at the Zhents, and both emitted startled gasps. After that, they did not move. The power of the spell held them rigid.
'Nice,' Cale acknowledged.
Jak nodded and they jogged forward. The moment they broke from the shadows, shouts erupted from the street behind them. Cale shot a glance back to see four armed men running toward them. They were two blocks away but closing fast.
'Let's go, Jak. We've got more company.'
'Follow me,' the halfling said, and sped down the alley.
On his way past, Cale plowed through the rigid Zhents and knocked them flat-just for good measure, he told himself-then sped after Jak. Stacks of crates, bricks, and broken wood littered the ground and made passage difficult. Jak navigated the refuse with the skill of a man well accustomed to the placement of every barrier. Forty paces down the alley the little man halted before a wooden pallet that stood upright against the wall. He reached between the slats and felt for something, muttering. After a few moments, Cale heard a click.
'Got it,' Jak said, satisfied. He swung the pallet open like a door.
Ingenious, Cale thought. A small, brick-walled room lay beyond, with a well dug in its center.
'Mind the hole,' Jak said. The two piled in and pulled the secret door closed behind them. In the darkness, Cale heard Jak click the locking mechanism back into place. They stood in silence while the footsteps of their Zhent pursuers thumped by and faded into the distance. Afterward, Jak pulled forth a small metal rod that emitted a soft blue glow from its tip. His excited smile shone brighter than the magical rod.
'Close one, eh?'
Cale returned the smile despite himself. 'Close,' he agreed, and the two shared a tension-relieving chuckle.
'The well descends eighty feet before reaching the sewers,' Jak said. 'There's a ladder affixed to the side. I'll go first.'
The halfling slipped over the side and began descending the iron rungs. Cale followed and soon they stood in Selgaunt's sewers, three inches deep in stinking muck. Cale had to stoop to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. The narrow passage led off in three directions.
'Which way?' he asked.
'This way.' Jak hurried off down the left-hand passage.
Surprisingly, the sewer did not reek as badly as Cale had expected. Still he tried to keep his mind off the composition of the muck that sucked at his boots. To occupy himself, he tried to put together the events of the night.
Riven, clearly a Zhentarim double agent, must have tipped his true masters to the Night Knives ambush. He and his Zhent allies had murdered the Knives hit team and waited for Cale to bring them Talbot. Why? Because if the Knives had succeeded and turned Talbot over to the Thayvians, Naglatha could force Thamalon to advocate Thay's interests before the Hulorn. The Zhents, bitter rivals of the realm of Thay, would want to prevent that. Winnowing out a few Knives and hurting the Righteous Man in the process would have been an added bonus. After the failed Knives ambush, Drasek Riven, the lone Knives 'survivor,' could have concocted any cover story he wanted. With Cale dead, that one-eyed bastard would have become the Righteous Man's chief aide. The Zhents would have had effective control of the Night Knives and Talbot to use as a bargaining chip with Thamalon.
Cale's own secrets had thrown the whole affair into disarray.
He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling, amazed that a violent clod like Riven could have been so subtle. If Jak hadn't known of the secret door in the alley and how to trigger its lock…
If Jak hadn't known…
A chill ran up Cale's spine. 'Jak?'
The halfling stopped and turned, his face eerily lit by the blue light of the wand. 'What?'
'How did you know how to trigger that lock?' Cale's hand closed over his sword hilt.
The halfling hesitated for an instant too long. 'You're asking me about the lock now? Come on, Cale. It's only a little farther.' He turned and started to walk again.
Cale grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. 'What's only a little farther?'
The little man's eyes went wide. 'Hey! Take it easy, Erevis.'
'The lock back in the alley. How'd you open it? You didn't pick it, and you sure as Hells didn't install it your-'
'Do not move,' said a voice from the darkness ahead.
Cale pushed Jak away and fell into a fighting crouch, blade ready. 'Who are you working for, Fleet?' he snarled.
Jak took a step back and held his hands palms up. 'Easy, Cale,' he softly said. 'We're safe now. Take it easy.'
'What?' Cale still did not see the source of the voice. 'Safe? What are you talking about?'
Jak gestured at the darkness ahead. 'They're Harpers, Erevis. Harpers.' He paused a moment before adding, 'So am I.'
Cale's dagger fell limply to his side. He stood dumbfounded as three men splashed out of the darkness ahead, each armed with broadsword and crossbow.
Jak was a Harper.
The Harpers worked covertly throughout Faerun to stem evil and promote good. They were everywhere but nowhere. Cale had always thought them irrelevant-too timid to seize power and too decentralized to stop anyone else from seizing it. Given tonight, he would have to rethink that view.
That Jak belonged to the Harpers called their entire friendship into question. The halfling could have been using him as a source for information about the Night Knives.
The tallest of the Harpers, blond and bearded, gave Cale an appraising stare before turning to Jak. 'You shouldn't have brought him here, Fleet.'
The little man stomped up to the blond giant and bristled like an angry badger. 'Shut the Hells up, Brelgin! It was come here or die. The ambush turned out to be a Zhent operation.'
'Zhents? Hmm…' Brelgin made a show of considering. 'Still, you've been warned not to bring someone outside the organi-'
'Well I've already done it. Now go clear out the safe house. He's only seen us four, and he can be trusted not to tell anyone.' Jak turned to give Cale an apologetic shrug. 'We know his secrets just as he knows ours. We can trust him to keep quiet.'
Brelgin remained hesitant. Cale, still too taken aback to speak, merely stood silent.
