elves had gathered.
'Kimmuriel Oblodra,' Jarlaxle explained. Entreri knew the name-the surname, at least. House Oblodra had once been the third most powerful house in Menzoberranzan and one of the most frightening because of their practice of psionics, a curious and little understood magic of the mind. During the Time of Troubles, the Oblodrans, whose powers were not adversely affected, as were the more conventional magics
within the city, used the opportunity to press their advantage, even going so far as to threaten Matron Mother Baenre, the ruling Matron of the ruling house of the city. When the waves of instability that marked that strange time turned again in favor of conventional magics and against the powers of the mind, House Oblodra had been obliterated, the great structure and all its inhabitants pulled into the great gorge, the Clawrift, by a physical manifestation of Matron Baenre's rage.
Well, Entreri thought, staring at the psionicist, not all of the inhabitants.
He went through the psionic door with Jarlaxle— what choice did he have? — and after a long moment of dizzying disorientation took a seat in the small room when the drow mercenary motioned for him to do so. All the dark elf group except for Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel, went out then in practiced order, to secure the area about the meeting place.
'We are safe enough,' Jarlaxle assured Entreri.
'They were watching me magically,' the assassin replied. 'That was how Merle Pariso set the ambush.'
'We have been watching you magically for many weeks,' Jarlaxle said with a grin. 'They watch you no more, I assure you.'
'You came for me, then?' the assassin asked. 'It seems a bit of trouble to retrieve one rivvil,' he added, using the drow word, and not a complimentary one, for human.
Jarlaxle laughed aloud at Entreri's choice of that word. It was indeed the word for 'human,' but one also used to describe many inferior races, which meant any race that was not drow.
'To retrieve you?' the assassin asked incredulously. 'Do you wish to return to Menzoberranzan?'
'I would kill you or force you to kill me long before we ever stepped into the drow city,' Entreri replied in all seriousness.
'Of course,' Jarlaxle said calmly, taking no offense and not disagreeing in the least. 'That is not your place, nor is Calimport ours.'
'Then why have you come?'
'Because Calimport is your place, and Menzoberranzan is mine,' the drow replied, smiling all the wider, as though the simple statement explained everything.
And before he questioned Jarlaxle more deeply, Entreri sat back and took a long while to reflect upon the words. Jarlaxle was, above all else, an opportunist. The drow, along with Bregan D'aerthe, his powerful band of rogues, seemed to find a way to gain from practically every situation. Menzoberranzan was a city ruled by females, the priestesses of Lolth, and yet even there Jarlaxle and his band, almost exclusively males, were far from the underclass. So why now had he come to find Entreri, come to a place that he just openly and honestly admitted was not his place at all?
'You want me to front you,' the assassin stated.
'I am not familiar with the term,' Jarlaxle replied.
Now Entreri, seeing the lie for what it was, was the one wearing the grin. 'You want to extend the hand of
Bregan D'aerthe to the surface, to Calimport, but you
recognize that you and yours would never be accepted even among the bowel-dwellers of the city.'
'We could use magic to disguise our true identity,' the drow argued.
'But why bother when you have Artemis Entreri?' the assassin was quick to reply. 'And do I?' asked the drow.
Entreri thought it over for a moment, then merely shrugged.
'I offer you protection from your enemies,' Jarlaxle stated. 'No, more than that, I offer you power over your enemies. With your knowledge and reputation and the power of Bregan D'aerthe secretly behind you, you will soon rule the streets of Calimport.'
'As Jarlaxle's puppet,' Entreri said.
'As Jarlaxle's partner,' the drow replied. 'I have no need of puppets. In fact, I consider them a hindrance. A partner truly profiting from the organization is one working harder to reach higher goals. Besides, Artemis Entreri, are we not friends?'
Entreri laughed aloud at that notion. The words «Jarlaxle» and «friend» seemed incongruous indeed when used in the same sentence, bringing to mind an old street proverb that the most dangerous and threatening words a Calimshite street vendor could ever say to someone were 'trust me.'
And that is exactly what Jarlaxle had just said to Entreri.
'Your enemies of the Basadoni Guild will soon call you pasha,' the drow went on.
Entreri showed no reaction.
'Even the political leaders of the city, of all the realm of Calimshan, will defer to you,' said Jarlaxle.
Entreri showed no reaction.
'I will know now, before you leave this room, if my offer is agreeable,' Jarlaxle added, his voice sounding a bit more ominous.
Entreri understood well the implications of that tone. He knew about Bregan D'aerthe being within the city now, and that alone meant that he would either play along or be killed outright.
'Partners,' the assassin said, poking himself in the chest. 'But I direct the sword of Bregan D'aerthe in Calimport. You strike when and where I decide.'
Jarlaxle agreed with a nod. Then he snapped his fingers and another dark elf entered the room, moving beside Entreri. This was obviously the assassin's escort.
'Sleep well,' Jarlaxle bade the human. 'For tomorrow begins your ascent.'
Entreri didn't bother to reply but just walked out of the room.
Yet another drow came out from behind a curtain then. 'He was not lying,' he assured Jarlaxle, speaking in the tongue common to dark elves.
The cunning mercenary leader nodded and smiled, glad to have the services of so powerful an ally as Rai'gy Bondalek of Ched Nasad, formerly the high priest of that other drow city, but ousted in a coup and rescued by the ever-opportunistic Bregan D'aerthe. Jarlaxle had settled his
sights on Rai'gy long before, for the drow was not only powerful in the god-given priestly magics, but was well-versed in the ways of wizards as well. How lucky for Bregan D'aerthe that Rai'gy had suddenly found himself an outcast.
Rai'gy had no idea that Jarlaxle had been the one to incite that coup.
'Your Entreri did not seem thrilled with the treasures you dangled before him,' Rai'gy dared to remark. 'He will do as he promised, perhaps, but with little heart.'
Jarlaxle nodded, not the least bit surprised by Entreri's reaction. He had come to understand Artemis Entreri quite well in the months the assassin had lived with Bregan D'aerthe in Menzoberranzan. He knew the man's motivations and desires-better, perhaps, than Entreri knew them.
'There is one other treasure that I did not offer,' he explained. 'One that Artemis Entreri does not even yet realize that he wants.' Jarlaxle reached into the folds of his cloak and produced an amulet dangling at the end of a silver chain. 'I took it from Catti-brie,' he explained. 'Companion of Drizzt Do'Urden. It was given to her adoptive father, the dwarf Bruenor Battlehammer, by the High Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon long ago as a means of tracking the rogue drow.'
'You know much,' Rai'gy remarked.
'That is how I survive,' Jarlaxle replied.
'But Catti-brie knows it is gone,' reasoned Kimmuriel Oblodra. 'Thus, she and her companion have likely taken steps to defeat any further use of it.'
Jarlaxle was shaking his head long before the psionicist ever finished. 'Catti-brie's was returned to her cloak before she left the city. This one is a copy in form and in magic, created by a wizard associate. Likely the woman returned the original to Bruenor Battlehammer, and he gave it back to Lady Alustriel. I should think she would want
