opaque screen.
Again his sword went to work ferociously, chopping at the stone. And again, Entreri waved a wall of clouding ash and rushed away.
In the temporary reprieve, he noted that two of the statues were down and crumbled, and a third, one of the women, was hopping toward him on one leg, its other lying on the floor. Beside it came one of the males, seemingly unscathed.
Entreri rushed ahead to meet that charge before the male could get far out in front of the crippled female. In came the stone sword, and Entreri hooked it expertly with his dagger and turned it out, then jerked it back in as he went out, slipping past the male and going low, then cutting across with his sword, taking the remaining leg from the hopping female. She crashed down hard and Entreri came up fast, planting his foot on her face and springing away just in front of a mighty downward chop from the male's sword.
A downward chop that split the female's head in half.
Entreri hit the ground in a spin and came right back in, one against one. He slipped Charon's Claw inside the blade of the thrusting stone sword, then lifted as he turned to drive the weapon and weapon arm up high. He stepped forward and jabbed his dagger hard into the armpit of the statue, then disengaged Charon's Claw at such an angle that he was able to crack it down across the statue's face as he moved off to the side. The statue turned to pursue, but Entreri was already reversing his direction, moving with perfect balance and sudden speed.
He hit the statue across the face again as he passed, but that was merely the feint, for as the statue threw its sword arm up to block, Entreri turned and rushed under that arm, coming out the other way in perfect balance and position to slam Charon's Claw against the upper arm of the already damaged sword arm.
That arm fell to the floor.
The statue came on, clawing at him with its one hand. Entreri's blades worked in a blur, expertly taking the fingers from the statue's hand one at a time.
Then he whittled the hand to a stump in short order. The statue tried to head butt him, but its head fell to the floor.
'Stubborn rock,' Entreri remarked and he lifted his foot up, braced it against the torso, and shoved the lifeless thing away and to the floor.
His weapons went away in the flash of an eye, and he turned to regard the room, taking in the sight of treasure after treasure.
'I'm working for the wrong person,' he mumbled, awestricken.
He shrugged and began his search for the driftwood flute of Idalia. Before long, he realized that the destroyed statues were deconstructing, their essence and materials drifting back out the open door to the columns-as he'd expected they would.
When they were finally back in place outside on the columns, magically repairing as if nothing had happened, Entreri closed and locked the door. Anyone approaching would think all was as it had been, or so he hoped.
As soon as the couple walked through the tower door and he got a good look at the infamous Ilnezhara, Entreri wondered if there might not be more to Tazmikella's antipathy toward her former friend than simple merchant rivalry. For Ilnezhara seemed everything that Tazmikella was not. Her hair hung long and lustrous, and so rich in hue that Entreri couldn't decide if it was reddish-blond or reddish-brown, or even copper-colored, perhaps. Her eyes were blue and big-enormous, actually, but they did not unbalance her bright face. Though her nose was thin and straight, and her cheekbones high and pronounced, her lips were as thick and delicious as any Entreri had ever seen. She was taller than the five-and-a-half foot Jarlaxle by several inches, and moved her slender form with as much grace as the nimble drow.
'I do find you entertaining,' she said to the drow, and she tossed her thick hair.
Entreri knew that he was well-hidden, tucked in a cranny partly covered by a tapestry and concealed by a many-armed rack holding bowls of many colors. There was no way that Ilnezhara could see him, but when she tossed her hair and her face flashed his way, he felt the intensity of her gaze upon him.
She went right back to her conversation with Jarlaxle, and Entreri silently scolded himself. When had he ever so questioned his abilities? Had he been taken in by the woman's beauty? He shook the thought away and concentrated on the conversation playing out before him. The couple were seated on a divan then, with Ilnezhara curled up beside the charming drow, her finger delicately tracing circles on his chest, for she had opened the top two buttons of his fine white shirt. She was speaking of entertainment, still.
'It is my way,' Jarlaxle replied. 'I have traveled so many of the surface lands, from tavern to tavern and palace to palace, entertaining peasants and kings alike. I find my charms my only defense against the inevitable impressions offered by my black skin.'
'With song? Will you sing to me, Jarlaxle?'
'Song, yes, but my talents are more musical.'
'With instruments? I have a fine collection, of course.'
She pulled herself from the divan and began striding toward the back of the room. There were indeed many instruments back there, Entreri knew, for of course he had searched much of the tower already. Several lutes and a magnificent harp, all of exceeding quality and workmanship graced the back area of this first floor.
'Your wonderful fingers must trace delicate sounds about the strings of a lute,' Ilnezhara said-rather lewdly, Entreri thought-as she lifted a lute from a soft case to show to Jarlaxle.
'In truth, it is my kiss,' said the drow. Entreri tried not to let his disgusted sigh be heard. 'My breath. I favor the flute above all.'
'The flute?' echoed Ilnezhara. 'Why, indeed, I have one of amazing timbre, though it is not much to view.'
Jarlaxle leaned toward her. Entreri held his breath, not even realizing that it all seemed too easy.
Ilnezhara continued toward the back of the room.
'Would you like to see it?' she asked coyly. 'Or rather, would you like to see where I keep it?'
Jarlaxle's smile melted into a look of confusion.
'Or are you hoping, perhaps, that your sneaky friend has already found it, and so when I open its case, it will not be there?' the woman went on.
'My lady…'
'He is still here. Why do you not ask him?' Ilnezhara stated, and she turned her gaze over the cranny at the side, staring directly at the hidden Entreri.
'Play with my friends!' Ilnezhara cried suddenly and she lifted her hand and waved it in a circle. Immediately, several statuettes-a pair of gargoyles, a lizard and a bear-began to grow and twist.
'Not more constructs!' Entreri growled, bursting from his concealing cubby.
Jarlaxle sprang from the divan, but Ilnezhara moved with equal speed, slipping behind a screen and running off.
'Well done,' Jarlaxle said to Entreri, the two taking up the chase.
Entreri thought to argue that he had defeated every entryway trap, and that he could not have expected Ilnezhara to be so prepared, but he stayed silent, having no real answer to the sarcasm.
Behind the screen, they found a corridor between the racks of artwork and jewelry cases. Up ahead, the woman's form slipped behind yet another delicate, painted screen, and as it was very near to the curving back wall, it seemed as if they had her-and would get to her before the constructs fully animated and caught up to them.
'You have nowhere to run!' Jarlaxle called, but even as he spoke, he and Entreri saw the wall above the screen crack open, a secret door swinging in.
'You didn't find that?' the drow asked.
'I had but a few minutes,' Entreri argued, and he went left around the screen as Jarlaxle went right.
Entreri hit the door first, shouldering it in and fully expecting that he would find himself out the back side of the tower. As he pushed through, though, he felt that there was nothing beneath his foot. He grabbed hard at the door, finding a pull ring, and held on, hanging in midair as it continued to swing. As he came around and took in the scene before him, he nearly dropped, as his jaw surely did.
For he was not outside, but in a vast magically-lighted chamber, an extra-dimensional space, it had to be, going on and on beyond Entreri's sight. Having served among the wealthiest merchants in Calimport, and with the richest pashas, Artemis Entreri was no stranger to treasure hoards. But never before in all his life had he imagined a collection of coins, jewels, and artifacts to rival this! Mounds of gold taller than he lay scattered about the floor,
