Mara shrugged, tending to the wounds on her arms, her face once again as human and soft as it had been outside.
'Just one of their rituals, as far as I know,' she answered, gesturing to Belsharoth. 'Torture for those souls destined to serve as devils.'
Jinn lifted the tablecloth, narrowing his eyes as a familiar shape appeared in its stains like a map. A long and winding wall, dark drips serving as watchtowers, the spread of blood through the thick weave almost like streets. The undeniable shape of Waterdeep had been splashed into the cloth.
'And as it might apply to a city?' he asked, raising the gruesome image for Mara's inspection.
'That would be… ambitious, to say the least,' she said, pointing to the darkest splash on the cloth where all the others seemed to have flowed away from. 'Something to do with Sea Ward perhaps?'
Jinn sighed and rolled the cloth up, stuffing it into his belt as they exited the chamber and sought an alternate route back to the streets. His mind raced with possibilities, wondering what he could have missed in all his years of battling the Vigilant Order. But for one talkative devil, he might have thought his task complete.
The memories brought back by Belsharoth were already fading, too vague and indistinct to hold on to, just another ripple in four thousand years of time's river. He disliked the term half-blood, though many with an idea of his true nature had used it to describe him. He had dreams occasionally of his second birth, ripped from the higher realms of the gods, forged into a body of blood and bone that he could never escape, to serve his lords in battle.
They had called him a deva, an angel made flesh.
Bright sunlight struck his face as Mara led him out the east side of the ramshackle home and down yet another street crowded with mortals ignorant of the wars that went on beneath their boots. Mara flashed him a smile as a patrol of Watchmen disappeared down the garbage-strewn alley. He eyed her warily, following her down twisting avenues back to her shop and the room he'd rented from her several years ago. She maintained her illusions of beauty among the citizens of Waterdeep, but he could see the face of the night hag she hid beneath her false green eyes, and he wondered if one day, despite their strange alliance, she would come to place his soul in one of her little red gems.
He wondered, with a soul that had survived a countless number of deaths, if such a thing were possible.
TWO
NIGHTAL 19, THE YEAR OF DEEP WATER DRIFTING (1480 DR)
Jirin stared down upon the hustle and bustle of Suldown Street, absently studying the faces of passersby and listening to the broadcriers hawking the latest scandals. Shadows lengthened as he stood, still as a statue in the window above Pages Curious, the bookstore owned by Maranyuss since she had been exiled to live among mortals. His room was small and uncluttered with the things many people took for granted, the various trappings and mementos of a long life lived. Only the window stood as a connection to the world outside. The furnishings consisted of a chair and small table for his meals and a simple bed for when he grew tired.
Though his rented room was nigh bare, his mind was a labyrinth of information and memories, cluttered and filled with the details of more than a hundred lifetimes. He was never privy to all his lifetimes of memories at once- just a recalled name here, a familiar place there-but even so, each life had made its mark on the next. Only the details of his current existence were fully open to him. He cursed his limited memory, wishing for some insight into the devil Belsharoth's warning.
Even in its apparent fall, the Vigilant Order vexed him.
Sighing, he stepped away from the window and leaned over the small table next to the view of the city, his eyes scanning the rough map on the bloody tablecloth for clues. He did not look up when Mara arrived at the top of the stairs, though he could feel her watching him. She could be as silent as the grave, but her presence exuded a dark aura that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
'This business is not done yet,' she said. 'We'll find him.'
The angel Sathariel, an agent of Asmodeus somehow bound to Waterdeep, was Jinn's only focus, his one reason for having hunted the Vigilant Order, for living in the city when he might have adventured across the length and breadth of Faerun. Mara and he shared that focus, and it had bound them in purpose, though their reasons were vastly different.
He shook his head and rolled up the cloth, tired of staring at blood for answers that never came.
'I had hoped that he might find us,' Jinn replied. 'We've weakened his following, set spies in every ward of the city, and still he will not view us as a threat.'
'Perhaps we aren't,' Mara said. 'Not yet anyway, not until we figure out why he's here.'
Jinn's hand rested on the bloody tablecloth, the crimson map of the city burned in his memory, the dark splash of Sea Ward teasing him with mysteries. It was in that moment he considered the poor soul who had likely been sacrificed to scrawl the crude map, and he instinctively whispered a short prayer, though the gods of Mulhorand he had once served were long gone from the world.
A bell rang downstairs in the shop, and Mara turned to go, her cruel sense of business always ready to greet a customer with a smile.
'I'll pay a visit to Sea Ward after gateclose,' he said to her as she descended.
'Waste of time,' she called back.
'Better than wasting it here,' he whispered. He had no mind to sleep despite his body's desire for rest. His head ached from the strain of trying to recall something useful, something that might point him in the right direction. He yearned to simply challenge the angel as his kind once had in older days, to bind it and strike it down, devote the victory to his ancient masters, but more compelling reasons than celestial blood spurred him on.
His kind were rare-at any given time, less than a handful existed within a day's dragon's flight of one another. It had been centuries since he recalled meeting another deva, but in Waterdeep, in his life as Jinnaoth, he had met one. The stolen blade, laid across his bed, shined, and he remembered her face. He blinked the image away.
'No,' he whispered. 'It is not a waste of time.'
'Jinn!'
Mara's voice startled him from his vigil, and he turned to the stairs, looking over the railing to find her there, motioning him down with a curious light in her eyes. Though cautious, he decided not to belt on his sword and descended the stairs to find an officer of the Watch standing among the shelves and tomes of Mara's shop. He felt a moment of alarm, wondering if he and Mara had been spotted that morning, but the captain's mark on the officer's tabard-signifying his rank as a rorden of the Watch-settled his concerns. As the officer turned to meet him, Jinn recognized his old friend and smiled.
'Well met, Rorden Allek,' Jinn said, though his smile faded at the unusually stern expression upon the rorden's face. 'How can I be of service?'
'Jinnaoth, I-' Allek paused, clearing his throat nervously. 'I cry your pardon, Goodwife Mara, but I should speak with Master Jinn alone.'
'But of course, Rorden,' Mara replied demurely, playing her part well and smiling sweetly as she gathered a small armload of books for cataloguing. 'I shall attend to the shop, but please call if you should need anything.'
'I shall. Many thanks for your understanding,' Allek said, and he gestured to the cushioned chairs by the tall, arching window at the far end of the shop. Few of Mara's usual customers used the chairs, their pursuits far too secretive and Mara's selection too arcane for casual perusal, but the chairs gave the shop a comfortable and inviting atmosphere.
Jinn sat down guardedly, wondering at Allek's dark and secretive manner. The rorden sat at length, clearly troubled. He clasped his hands before him, knuckles white and dark circles beneath his eyes. His boots were strangely unpolished for Allek, and his uniform was rumpled. The visible evidence sparked Jinn's interest. Also the fact that Allek's current station was in Sea Ward.
'What's wrong, Allek?' Jinn finally asked, taking the rorden's attention away from the floor.
'Yes, right. I must apologize for my manner; it has been a long day,' he said. 'I'm still trying to get things straight.'
'Not at all. Take your time,' Jinn replied.
