Entreri leaped back up upon his nightmare steed. “I’m not your ally in this,” Entreri announced to them. “Though I would love to see Herzgo Alegni dead.”
Drizzt started to respond, but Entreri didn’t wait, kicking his nightmare into a leap and gallop, off into the forest night.
Drizzt spun to face Dahlia, who all but collapsed into his arms.
“I’ll kill him,” she said coldly, without emotion, but when Drizzt lifted her face to his, he saw tears flow down her delicate cheeks.
She was still alive. She couldn’t be! No one should have suffered this amount of pain without expiring.
So much pain, indeed, that Sylora Salm had not even realized that she was still alive for a long, long while. But now she realized the truth of it, and that alone made her realize her pain had subsided a bit.
Sylora gasped and coughed. The Dread Ring was healing her!
She moved her leg back under her, straightening once more, and as her body shifted, she saw her guardian, Valindra Shadowmantle, standing just to the side, holding Sylora’s crooked wand, aiming it Sylora’s way. Valindra called upon the powers of the Dread Ring to heal Sylora’s mortal wounds.
“Valindra,” she mouthed, barely audible, though the lich smiled and seemed to hear. “Thank you.”
Valindra cackled loudly. “Thank you?” she echoed. “I only keep my enemies from having the pleasure.”
Sylora looked at her curiously-more curiously when another form moved up beside Valindra.
The Thayan sorceress understood her doom, in Jestry’s eyes-or eye, for Artemis Entreri’s dagger remained deeply embedded in the other. That one visible eye socket, the orb gouged out by the knife the assassin had later retrieved, flickered with red flame, with the energy of undeath. Sylora had attuned him to the Dread Ring with the scepter she’d created for him, and now the ring had done its job, had brought him back into a state of powerful undeath.
And the creature wasn’t looking upon the broken sorceress fondly.
Valindra cackled louder and spun away, gliding into the dark and smoky night.
Jestry towered over Sylora, reaching down to grab her roughly. He easily lifted her into the air.
Then the powerful undead creature bent her in half backward, shattering her spine, folding her like a brittle parchment. She screamed with her last dying breath, before Jestry slammed her broken form down into the ground and began to stomp on her with his heavy wrapped feet, a thousand times.
The imp growled and twisted and pushed, but to no avail against the strong strands of the magical web that held it up high on the wall.
“You didn’t think I would allow a creature such as yourself to fly in and out of Neverwinter freely, did you?” Effron said, pacing in front of the diminutive devil.
“You err, warlock,” the imp insisted. “My mistress-”
“Arunika,” said Effron, and his recognition seemed to put the devil back on its clawed heels a bit.
“My mistress is powerful, and intolerant of-”
“Shut up,” Effron said quietly, but with such a threat in his voice that the imp complied.
“I don’t intend to hurt you,” Effron explained. “As long as you understand that you now work for me, and for Herzgo Alegni, as well as for your mistress.”
“I am of the Nine Hells, not the Abyss,” the imp said with a little snarl.
“And I can send you back there, in pieces.”
The two stared at each other for many heartbeats then Effron said simply, “Tell me of the events in Neverwinter Wood.”
Later on the next morning, Effron found Herzgo Alegni on his namesake bridge, as usual, and recounted the strange but promising news of the previous night’s events.
“Sylora Salm is no more,” Alegni said smugly when the warlock was finished. “Perhaps Draygo Quick will allow me to leave this place at long last.”
“Our enemies have been dealt a serious wound, but they are not gone,” Effron pointed out.
“Led by an insane lich,” said Alegni.
“More sane every day, from what I can determine, and she’s being aided, perhaps by Arunika.”
Herzgo Alegni looked at him curiously.
“I don’t know all of the details,” Effron admitted.
“Then learn them!”
Effron nodded.
“Now Barrabus rides with Sylora’s champion and her powerful drow ally,” Alegni mused.
“Artemis Entreri,” Effron corrected, and when Alegni looked at him with surprise, the twisted warlock clarified, “His name is Artemis Entreri.”
Herzgo Alegni laughed and walked to the bridge railing, staring out over the running river as it wound its way to the sea. “I’d forgotten that name,” Alegni admitted. “I’ve not heard it in decades. Nor had he, I would assume.” He glanced over his shoulder at Effron. “He’s still mine, you understand, and so his name remains Barrabus.”
“They’re unpredictable, and powerful,” Effron warned.
“Quite predictable,” Alegni corrected. “Barrabus will try to get his new friends to come after me.”
Effron grinned as he mouthed “Dahlia Syn’dalay” with open malice.
