“Pashra missed his first payment three days ago. When I sent some muscle over to collect my due, they were rebuffed. I sent a larger squad over today-and Pashra was gone.”
Warmth suddenly fled the air, and Demascus could see his breath steaming in the cold.
“Since you know about arambarium,” Raneger continued, “I can only assume you’re an agent of the crown in this matter. They’re wondering what has happened to the mineral’s production out at the island, yes? You’re employed by one of the stewards, presumably?”
“Something like that,” Demascus allowed. Raneger probably thought he was working for Tradrem Kethtrod, Steward of Earth-the intelligence-gathering master for the realm. Good; no need to disabuse the genasi of his incorrect notion.
Some warmth trickled back into the receiving room. “And you’ve come here, hoping we can pool our resources on this matter, as the Crown and I have done before.”
What? thought Demascus. No, don’t react. Though he promised himself to bring that tidbit up with Arathane next time he saw her. Aloud, with as much conviction as he could muster, he said, “Exactly.”
Raneger stared at him. Demascus returned his look, holding eye contact. Suddenly Demascus wondered if Raneger’s claim to have previously worked for the Throne of Majesty had been a test.
Chant stepped forward and clapped. “So! All of us want to catch the thieves. See how reasonable we all are? How we are
Demascus laughed. Raneger blinked and gave a slow nod. Jaul audibly loosed a held breath. Some dolt on the far side of the chamber clapped, sensing easing tensions in relaxing body language.
“Your name in Pashra’s warehouse led me here.”
“You’re amazingly stupid,” said Raneger “What if I’m working hand-in-glove with the drow and Pashra? You’d be dead.”
“I’d rather think, ‘amazingly sure of myself.’ ”
Riltana snorted again.
Not her best attribute, Demascus thought.
The criminal watersoul turned idly in his pool, this time avoiding soaking everyone standing on the tiles. “I’m only even considering giving you this information because I trust you will use it to find Pashra and deal with him.”
“That is our charge,” said Demascus.
Raneger made a face, as if cooperation itself pained him. “Then listen. Pashra, for all his power, is merely a pawn of the drow Chenraya of House Xorlarrin. He and the drow are only loosely allied; they each want the arambarium for their own purposes. Chenraya wants it to help empower some scheme of Lolth’s.”
“Lolth!” said Jaul and Riltana almost simultaneously.
So much for not speaking her name, Demascus thought. “I squashed a spider with a drow female’s head,” he suddenly offered. “You don’t suppose I’ve already dealt with Chenraya, and it’s all over but for rounding up Pashra and the missing cargo?”
Raneger said, “A drow priestess of Chenraya’s power is capable of exerting her strength through a variety of homunculi. If you didn’t destroy her actual body, all you did was deprive her of a tool.”
Demascus sighed. “I figured.”
“I thought drow nested in subterranean cities in northern Faerun. How did one get here?” asked Jaul.
“By ship, across the Sea of Fallen Stars, I’d guess,” said Chant. “Might take a little while-”
“No, the boy is correct,” said Raneger. “Pashra and Chenraya know a shortcut across Faerun to whatever subterranean dark elf city she operates from. I’ve bent all my resources to discover it. Finding a portal with such range might be even more valuable than arambarium.”
“Let me guess,” said Demascus. “You want our help finding it?”
“I do.”
The deva rubbed his chin. “You know, I came across an interesting name in Pashra’s effects. Ever heard of the Gatekeeper?”
“Jaul,” came Raneger’s watery voice, “Tell your friends to wait outside. I’d like a word.”
Jaul stopped. Now what? He had to use the privy. Besides, Raneger had already verbally slapped him down, in front of his father and everyone. Jaul couldn’t imagine how a private castigation could be any worse. Of course, just because he couldn’t imagine it didn’t mean Raneger didn’t have something nasty in mind to punish Jaul for bringing strangers unannounced to his court.
Jaul’s father, preceded by Demascus and Riltana, paused at the exit. The pawnbroker frowned at Jaul, obviously worried.
“Go on, Pa,” Jaul said, and waved him forward. “I’ll be right out. Master Raneger and I just got to take care of a few things. Den of Games stuff, you know.”
“We’ll be waiting outside,” Chant said darkly.
“Great. Way to make me feel like a five-year-old.”
Chant gave an exasperated shake of his head and left.
Why did his father have to be that way? Never admitting that anything Jaul did had any worth, as if all Jaul’s choices were bad. Oh, it burned him up!
He stomped over to the basin’s edge.
“Yes, Master Raneger? Sorry about letting those clods in on such short notice-”
“Jaul, I’ve already put that behind me. In fact, I wanted you to stay back because I wanted to let you know I overreacted. I apologize.”
“You … apologize?”
Raneger chuckled. His heaving chest sent ripples over the basin’s edge.
“What, boy, you think my ego is so large that I can’t admit when I’m wrong?”
Jaul had thought exactly that, but he decided maybe now wasn’t the time to say so. Instead he said, “Well, I’m sorry, too, for not following the protocol. It was only my father and his friends …” He stopped himself from lapsing into making excuses.
“I’m glad you brought them into my court. If you hadn’t, a fabulous opportunity might have slipped past. Thanks to you, that didn’t happen. You’re an asset to my organization, Jaul. And after today, I’ve begun to think you’re an invaluable one.”
Jaul couldn’t help but smile at the praise. How he’d longed to hear just that sort of encouragement his whole life. To be gratefully recognized by Raneger was something he’d always hoped might happen. And here it was!
“Your father, Chant, much as I appreciate his secrets network, failed to notify me that a deva named Demascus was operating in Akanul. Not only operating, but working hand in glove with your father! Not that I have anything against Chant, of course, but perhaps his friendship with this Demascus blinded him to the deva’s potential importance.”
Jaul had heard Chant call Demascus a deva before, but had never troubled himself to ask what a deva was; he tended to discount anything his father said as a matter of personal policy. Probably not the best time to admit his ignorance to the crime lord on that subject, either. Instead he said, “And the importance of this stolen arambarium?”
“Indeed, I have not forgotten about the arambarium, the drow, and the portal! Which is the other reason I asked you to stay behind. Like I said, Jaul, you’re an asset to my organization. But you’re more than that. I’ve had my eye on you. You can think on your feet. You’re tough. And you know a thing or two about how things work in Airspur.”
Jaul tried not to let his grin swell too large.
“You’re going places. If you play your cards right, I can see you as one of my lieutenants. Someone I can trust. Someone who’ll look out for me, just like I’ll look out for you. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds … wonderful, Master Raneger.” Was he dreaming this? He glanced at the tattoos on his wrists that marked his acceptance into the organization. They’d meant a lot before, but now their significance was redoubled.
“All right, then. Accompany your father and his friends to find this portal, as we agreed before they left. Help them like you’d help me. Try not to anger your father just because you can, eh? But remember-I look forward to hearing everything you learn, no matter how insignificant the detail, or how secret. Clear?”
