October 03-31, 2000
Category: Fantasy/Dark Elf; PG-13
Author: Lledrith RavenWolf

[Disclaimer]

Too Many Shards

Chapter 16: Food

Winter took a table in the corner of the warmly furnished restaurant of wood and stone, where she began to attack her meal. A large bowl of some meaty stew was placed on the ground for you, and you too gratefully began to eat the hot food.

You wondered, idly, when the sisters would be coming down.

"Oh, when they've finished," Winter chuckled, with her mouth full, then choked slightly on the food. "This beef is really good..."

You licked the bowl clean before Winter had even finished the whiting, and stretched under the table, head against one of the wooden legs, and looked covertly at the patrons. The tables were in a haphazard arrangement, simply put where there was space, and decorated only with a tablecloth, white. The seats were carved wood, with an underfed cushion, mostly a discolored maroon, on each. Well-lit and smelling not unpleasantly of candle smoke and different dishes, the restaurant had a delightful ambience.

The patrons were mostly merchants or those of average income - appropriately dressed but not richly so. This restaurant probably provided good food at a good cost, nothing fancy or expensive. The wine did not smell like those amazingly pricey types, nor the cheap ones...and other alcoholic beverages like whiskey were also in abundance.

Waiters, mostly humans, bustled around, whisking away cleaned dishes or delivering new ones, clearing tables, laying tables, collecting bills, escorting patrons in and out with equal efficiency. Though from your view you could only see the informally dressed legs of the waiters and the more varied clothing of the patrons.

A hand on the edge of your vision and a clattering sound - you turned to see a human waitress whom grinned, took your bowl, patted you and left, all in one apparent movement.

Drowsy you began to nod off, feeling slightly hot even in the relatively cool atmosphere (as compared to outside), then was awakened some time later by the heavy sharp scent of Taor, the werewolf. His scent was an odd mix of wolf and man, and not the best of either. From here you could see his flour-dusted trousers and worn shoes that smelled of spices spilled, no doubt, onto his kitchen floor.

You turned to see Winter's crossed legs. From their casual position, she had probably finished her meal - this was confirmed from the strong smell of 'coffee', which she took after a meal, and the lighter scent of cheese and fresh-baked bread.

They were speaking wistfully of Sanctuary, in the normal conversational voices, which most people ignored unless actually eavesdropping...,and with such casual freedom that you suspected a sound shield.

"...and the Nexus pair are finally getting married in Spring." Winter was saying. "That was what Myurr said."

"Never met the pair, though Uktar who came back here a month ago said they're pretty nice people. He met them while wandering around back in Sword Hall. He's a sword warrior, did you know?" Taor's rough voice floated down.

"Would never have guessed it from the fellow. He was the one making the biscuits, was he not?"

"Yes, he's good with his fingers, and those almond stuff of his are good. You have to try some later."

"With pleasure. I take it he was looking for Zaknafein?"

"And at the new 'uns and at old friends. All the sword students adore this Zaknafein for some reason. Never met him myself."

"I'm never one for introductions, but the next time you go back to Sanctuary I can do so. How is Dark Magic?" Winter seemed curious.

"Fine...though I hardly practice it now. Have to go back every so often to make sure I'm not too out of practice, but otherwise it's enough to get by. What I do here does not really need its use in any way...being a werewolf is more of a bother, but so long as I do not show up every full moon in public it's okay."

"Hmm," Clinking of metal on ceramic - Winter was playing with her spoon. "Anything you would recommend to do in Calimport?"

"Keep a low profile and don't play with the guilds," Taor said promptly. "But Entreri..."

Winter chuckled, deep and rich. "Do not worry."

"If you say so, Loremaster," Taor said doubtfully.

"Call me Winter," Winter replied casually.

"Then you can hardly call me DarkMage." Taor remarked jovially.

"Do I call you Taor or by your DarkMage name, then?" Winter bantered.

"Taor would be fine. I always found the name Shadow Stalker a little unsuitable for one of my size," Taor laughed, a booming sound very unlike Winter's.

"Very well then," Winter said warmly. "Now, about Calimport..."

"There's drow in it somewhere," Taor said, "Your kin, I believe."

"Drow? In Calimport?" Winter sounded surprised, but not too surprised. "I thought their...representative here was Entreri."

"Entreri is involved?" Taor whistled. "That would explain how he could become chief of Basadoni guild so quickly. Bregan D'aerthe works strangely."

"Not so strangely," Winter was amused now, and slightly apprehensive. "Are they active here?"

"No. This is only the surface, after all," Taor said with supreme mockery.

"Good," Winter said in relief.

"You're to do with Crenshinibon?" Taor asked.

"How did you know?" Surprise again.

"That thing on your back looks like Irr'liancrea to me." Taor replied confidently. "The Shard which is a Sword, no?"

"True. Do you know of Reima then?"

"No...who?"

"No matter. It is not a matter for Calimport," Winter said, then muttered, "Hopefully."

"Hopefully?" Taor's sharpened senses caught the word.

"If my...sisters do not make spectacles of themselves," Amused again. "Which I will not allow them to do so. I promised their...parent. And besides, I do not wish Bregan D'aerthe's eyes on me again so quickly. Is there anything worthwhile doing in Calimport?"

"If your worth be money, plenty. Entertainment as well, if it involves bloodshed or fighting or some sordid activity...I would have recommended taking an assassination job, but now that you are involved with Entreri that may or may not be out of the question."

A pause while Winter digested this. "We'd just have to see," she agreed. "Quests?"

"Nothing much. Usual for this place."

"Then why an outpost here?"

"The outpost here does not cover only Calimport. Together with the one in Baldur's Gate we have to cover the whole of the Sword Coast."

"I see," Winter paused again, then stood up, and you padded out from under the table. "Well, thanks," she grinned. "Can we have rooms here?"

"If you pay, and if you make no trouble," Taor stood up as well, towering over Winter. "Where are you going?"

"Out for a walk. I'd be back for supper," she stretched, waved, then headed out of the door. You followed quickly, weaving around waiters and patrons and finally out into the street.

The street was quite busy now, compared to when you had first come here, with patrons entering and leaving restaurants. Proprietors no longer stood outside their restaurants trying to invite passers-by in, they now were inside presumably cooking for their patrons. The smell of food was not as inviting on a full stomach, and you were able to view all those eating in the open air with complacency as the two of you strolled down the tree-lined streets.

"Smells much nicer," Winter smiled in the last blushing rays of the sun before sunset. You no longer viewed the burning orb with fear.

A breeze ruffled your fur and danced with Winter's mane of hair, teasing leaves up into the air. The city appeared to be gearing up for less savory night activities, if you understood Calimport correctly.

"City of beggars, thieves, killers and merchants," Winter agreed. "And other oddball creatures. Halflings, for one."

Halflings did not seem odd.

"Well, in my opinion then."

The two of you wandered down to the end of the street, which then diverged to two alleys and a residential area. Winter, predictably, chose an alley, though thankfully the marginally less dirty and smelly one. "Taor told me there were shops somewhere ahead," she explained, "The Night Market I believe. This should be the shortest way."

It was, as you invoked your ability. What Night Market?

"I don't know. But it sounded interesting."

The alley snaked off into others, and the two of you would have become rather lost had you not decided to lead. But you knew this would have eventually led to trouble - five humans appeared out of where they had been...taking drugs, by the smell of it in a adjoining dead end, holding weapons, if not firmly.

"Purty elf," one of them said, voice slurred with whatever drug it was. Rheumy eyes peered at her over a long nose on an equally long and unshaven face. His companions were equally unsavory, in both meanings of the word - you did not fancy having to bite them.

"Back off and I'd let the lot of you live," Winter said easily, folding her arms.

"She'd let us live?" another of them, with a ponytail of brown hair, nudged a third heavily.

"D'ye hear that?" the fourth one agreed, and laughed, subsiding into coughs when Winter watched them pointedly.

"Right then. Me name's An..." the rest of what the first human said was cut off into a choked scream as Winter kicked him in the stomach and then elbowed him in the back of his neck.

You watched idly as Winter dispatched the rest with equal efficiency and without bloodshed, then nodded to you. You stepped over and on five groaning and semi-conscious heaps to her side.

You were surprised that she did not kill them.

Winter sheathed her blade after wiping it on one of the none-too-clean trousers of one of the supine humans. "Nothing I can do to them will equal what they will soon endure once they truly get addicted to that drug - I would think by the symptoms that it is an opiate." She looked grim, and you knew what she meant, but then she abruptly brightened up.

"Now, for the market."

***

Winter did not buy anything at the rather brightly lit and busy market, even if she did linger at the jewelry section and the clothing part, as well as watch the performing arts - dances and short plays - with every sign of avid enjoyment.

The two of you took a more crowded route back to the restaurant, cloaked in an invisibility spell. Winter whistled one of the tunes from one of the performances as you strolled back casually, feeling peace - of all things - in this rather dangerous city. But compared to Menzoberranzan or Irinelaeran, Calimport was ordered and mild.

Dark sky above like rough velvet, with diamonds of tiny stars. Winter pointed out constellations and their names - the Dog which Dances, the Claw of Maera...alien names that slid off you. You did not think either formations fit their arcane names. The Dog which Dances looked more like a badly drawn spiral than any prancing canine.

The restaurant was more or less closed now at this late hour, the waiters cleaning up. Winter went upstairs, saw that the room door was still closed, heard the sounds of soft laughter emanating from behind, and shook her head in resignation. You wrinkled your nose at a not-unfamiliar smell, considering where you had been staying for most of your life, and Winter went back down to ask if she could have another room.

***

You woke early and yawned, stretching from the heap of pillows and spare sheets that Winter had put in a corner for you. Winter was already awake and dressed, if only just so.

"Good morning, Kel," she said sleepily - she was not a true 'morning' person. You stretched again, luxuriously, then shook yourself and padded to the door, Winter walking behind.

Winter sighed when she saw that the twin's room door was still closed, if the sounds now that you could catch was that of peaceful slumber, three different breaths.

Below the kitchen was gearing up for breakfast. Taor smiled at Winter and waved her outside. She murmured a greeting, went to the table she had sat in last night and slumped down, to all appearances falling asleep again.

The waitress appeared, all smiles, putting pastry, bread and cheese, jam, butter, eggs and sausage on the table expertly without spilling anything, then put the bowl down on the ground for you. It was of dubious, hot content but you ate anyway - your tongue differentiated scrambled eggs, sliced sausage and ham.

When you finished and the bowl was cleared, Winter had begun to pick at the bread, delicately spreading slivers of goat cheese and butter on the toasted buns, then eating them carefully, muttering about crumbs, but looked as relaxed as you had seen her for a long time. You curled up under her chair and rested your muzzle on the ground.

The twins chose to wander in at this idyllic moment, patting you and greeting Winter brightly with their normal exuberance. Winter sighed as they helped themselves to the bread and cheese and waited for their breakfasts.

"The two of you possess a most unholy cheer early in the morning. And what time did you sleep last night?" she said, sounding amused.

Veldrin shrugged, then clapped her hands as breakfast arrived. "Oh, this smells simply divine."

"Entreri?" Winter asked, reaching for another bun.

Ssussun paused. You could only see her fork, waving aimlessly in the air. "Very..."

"I meant where is he now."

"Asleep last we saw," Ssussun said with her mouth full. From your angle, you could only see her legs and not her expression, which you could be sure would be smugly complacent. "Never you mind, we hid the weapons."

"Good," Winter grinned. "I'm full, and I don't want to fight him now. Besides, I may kill him this time." She did not wear the Name blade, but Irr'liancrea rested in a free scabbard against the chair.

"'Twill be such a waste," Veldrin said wickedly.

Winter sighed again. You crept out of under the chair to accept tidbits from Veldrin and Ssussun...and was crunching on some of the bread when you saw Entreri - with your mouth full, a growl would sound a little strange. You settled for nudging Winter.

She looked down, then up at the kitchen entrance. Entreri stood there, looking around casually in the plain robes, with and oddly neat appearance, then approached cautiously when the twins waved at him, as if approaching a venomous snake.

"Good morning," Winter smiled sweetly. He murmured something grudgingly polite in return, and the twins cajoled and herded him into a chair - between them, naturally. Winter pushed the bread basket towards him, but he declined to take any. Instead, he gave you the impression - from next to Veldrin, at least - of trying to watch all of you at the same time.

Veldrin winked at Winter, turning her face such that Entreri would not see the rather vulgar movement, then the twin's 'campaign' began again - they began by persuading, with sly quips and entreating, Entreri to eat. As he did so rather warily, they then rather unashamedly took every opportunity to touch him - an accidental brush of hands while reaching for bread, an accentuating gesture while making a point...

Winter, from what you could see, was silently laughing inside. Inclining her head down to hide her face from Entreri, you saw a wicked, wicked smile plastered on it.

Entreri knew he was a figure of amusement for Winter and possibly the twins, and knew exactly what was happening - first he looked suspicious, then resigned, then finally started his own revenge by taking a page from the twins' book - 'welcoming' the touching, his hand lingering, with more smiles.

The twins seemed startled by this sudden change in attitude, and Winter, more amused.

"You fight very well," he finally said to Winter, whom had kept out of the conversation so far. He was eating more than a human normally did for a morning meal, as Winter had predicted.

She blinked, realized he was addressing her, then settled back in her chair. "I had a good teacher," she said, then amended, "Several good teachers."

"Zaknafein Do'Urden?" Veldrin stated more than asked.

"We taught each other," Winter corrected, then smiled at Entreri, whom had, in shock, dropped his butter knife with a muffled thump of metal onto the table. "Why, what is the matter?"

"Do'Urden?" Entreri frowned. From the sound of metal rasping on cloth-covered wood, you guessed he picked up the blunt knife again.

"He prefers to be known as Zaknafein, but yes. Some sort of House he once belonged to, I would think." Winter said, apparently oblivious to Entreri's growing astonishment.

"I heard he had died," Entreri said, recovering his normal cold composure.

"He did," Winter said succinctly. "Twice. He's trying not to do so a third time, and doing very well I would say."

"Where?"

"Why should I tell you?" Winter said mildly, if a little rudely. "Pry it out of my sisters if you will."

Entreri narrowed his eyes but did not ask further, a good decision because all he would have achieved would have been a rather bad headache and a smug Winter.

"You are the oldest?" he changed the subject smoothly.

"By a little," Winter 'admitted'. "Is it so very obvious?"

"W...that is, Niar's only a minute or so the eldest," Veldrin pointed out, changing Winter's name for caution's sake and playing along.

"Is that so," Entreri murmured. Like you did, he silently compared the relative 'maturity' of the twins and Winter.

"Be nice," Ssussun chided. Entreri raised his eyebrow a fraction, still rather off-balance (and rightfully so), then his eyes widened slightly.

"Stop that," Winter said, without looking at the twins.

"Stop what?" They asked innocently, in chorus.

"You know." Winter eyed first Veldrin, then Ssussun with a hard blue stare.

Veldrin pouted and Ssussun appeared, from your angle, to have slumped ungraciously in her chair, but Entreri looked more comfortable, enough to reach for another bun.

"Will you be in Calimport long?" Entreri asked Winter, fending off Ssussun's attempts to play with his robe.

A certain resignation about him - you thought that some time not long ago, another Artemis Entreri would have attempted to kill both the twins for this sort of daring. But then again...maybe not. The twins certainly appeared relatively harmless next to Winter - they carried their imitation Irr'liancrea swords as if they were toys, while Winter carried hers as if she knew how to use it (which was perfectly the case). That was exactly what swords were to them, but they were, underneath their playful attitude, as dangerous as Winter was. Perhaps Entreri sensed that as well.

"Maybe," Winter smiled. "If I...we find it amusing enough to linger. I have not shown my sisters the night market."

"Market?" Ssussun asked, more for continuing the conversation than out of any real interest.

"Mostly food, jewelry and miscellaneous," Winter shrugged. "Mostly jewelry, that is, and tawdry trinkets at that. We can create better ones."

"Create." Entreri repeated, and frowned. "You have such magical power?"

"Creating is easy," Veldrin said, just as Ssussun said, "No problems with it."

To demonstrate her point she put up her hand, palm facing up, and air rippled above it, forming a translucent bubble that rotated slowly, about the size of her fist which expanded to the size of a small melon, then slowly began to reshape itself, four legs and a head and a tail, then the head flattened slightly and the legs elongated, and colors began to tint the glass-like form.

When she was finished, a glass kitten of normal size with eyes of kitten blue and black frosted glass fur with transparent paws and tail tip peered out from over Veldrin's fingertips, and mewled. Ssussun laughed, and clapped her hands.

Entreri blinked, rubbed his eyes reflexively, and then glanced at Winter as if for reassurance.

Winter did not seem the least surprised at all, though she probably was. Creating something out of nothing was, she had said before, one of the hardest magics to accomplish, and to have done so like Veldrin, as if it was just a cheap trick...but instead of some exclamation of amazement she simply sipped her coffee and said tartly, "I hope you'd put it away when you've finished with it."

Veldrin put it carefully on the table, where it stumbled around with endearing clumsiness. "Can't I keep it?"

"Take care of it, then," Winter replied firmly. "I prefer flesh and blood...pets." She whistled to you, and you obligingly put your front paws on her chair and stood up to look over the table. It had mostly been cleared, but Winter fed you a bit more bread, keeping with the image of 'pet', and patted you, then pushed the kitten away from her cup of coffee.

"A wolf?" Entreri asked mildly, pretending, for some reason, that he had not already seen you.

"Nigouar, Underdark wolf," Winter smiled. You licked her ear, and she batted at your muzzle. Then she frowned, and drew out a necklace from the folds of her robe - a silver link necklace with a single sapphire stone, roughly cut, as its pendant. The sapphire glowed slightly, as if with a life of its own.

"Excuse me," Winter said curtly, getting up and walking into the kitchen. You followed quickly, wondering what was the matter. Behind you, sensing that something was wrong, the twins immediately engaged Entreri skillfully in another conversation.

When safely in the noise of the kitchen she put a finger to the sapphire and spoke in irritated drow. "What is wrong now, Rai'gy?"

Rai'gy's agitated voice, strained with worry, issued from the sapphire as clearly as if he had been standing in the room.

"It's Jarlaxle. He has disappeared."

***

Chapter 17: Unexpected

"Disappeared?" Winter frowned. Several of the kitchen helpers stared at her, but Taor waved them back to their businesses. She smiled a harried smile at him and made a wild gesture at the doorway to the restaurant proper - he nodded firmly and barked an order. Two helpers pulled a heavy curtain over the doorway.

"Xas! We have reason to believe Baenre took him..."

"Baenre?"

"He was last seen by bodyguards heading into the compound..."

"Rai'gy! Stop! Now, calm down, though that may be asking too much of you. I am going somewhere safer to open a...window. Then you tell me."

"Xas...xas."

Winter hurried up the staircase, then fairly flew into the room, bolting the door behind you then closing the windows before sitting down on the bed and speaking precisely in the tongue she used to cast most of her spells. She ended off by pointing at the large mirror over the bare dressing table provided in the guestroom.

Her reflection blurred, then darkened to look into a room - one of Jarlaxle's offices, Rai'gy's rather haggard features, the captains, and Kimmuriel, all looking under pressure.

"Winter?" Rai'gy asked uncertainly, not connecting the female drow in blue and white robes with the outlandish looking elf which she was now.

Winter looked down at herself automatically, then smiled briefly. "Sorry, another disguise. Now, what exactly appears to be wrong?"

"Bel'la Lloth *. Some time ago..."

"How long?" Winter cut in, all business.

"About the second shade of red to the last of yellow," Berg'inyon replied immediately.

"Six hours," Winter muttered to herself. "Well? What did he do?"

"Jarlaxle on Matron Triel Baenre's invitation visited House Baenre...he is asked there often enough on business so we did not suspect very much. However he did warn us - since the sightings had started on House Baenre he had not been called there, so he was...wary." Rand'eran said. "I cannot recall his exact words..."

"I can," Kimmuriel said, frowning. "'Baenre must have some hidden agenda...if I do not return when Narbondel turns to the second shade of green...then it would be a code lael *.'"

Winter knew what that meant. "When the head of Bregan D'aerthe...falls into enemy hands. Morikan. And why call me? Bregan D'aerthe should be quite capable of prying him out of it."

"Not so simple," Kimmuriel said hastily. "There is some sort of...shield on House Baenre. I cannot feel the thoughts of anyone inside, nor can any magic of mine...or those of Bregan D'aerthe penetrate. Crenshinibon appears to have shut down, or something similar - it is on Jarlaxle's desk now, like any bit of useless rock. I think it is waiting for something."

"Waiting for what we would have to find out later, I would think," Winter sighed, then said bluntly, "So, is Jarlaxle dead?"

The drow in the mirror looked uncomfortable. Finally Rand'eran spoke up. "We...know not."

"Huh." Winter sighed. "Oh very well. I will come over. But if Jarlaxle is dead, as far as I am concerned - that is the end of the matter as it is."

Kimmuriel and the captains looked as though they would protest, but Rai'gy nodded wearily. "How long?"

"What color now?"

"Sixth of orange."

"Seventh of orange, at the most." Winter said, and waved a hand - the mirror blurred to show her disguised reflection. Winter took a deep, long breath, then exploded into action, grabbing the Name blade and buckling it on to her belt, began to cast a spell, stopped, swore in common, then flung open the door and took the stairs down four at a time.

She stalked quickly out to the restaurant to the table, and the twins abruptly became serious once they took a look at her expression.

"What?" Veldrin asked immediately.

Winter opened her mouth, glanced at Entreri, then spoke in rapid-fire drow. "Jarlaxle has probably fallen into Baenre's hands - may be dead, may be alive. I have to get him out if he is still alive - promised Rai'gy. Now, are you two coming or do you want to stay here?"

Entreri raised an eyebrow, probably understanding the word 'Jarlaxle', but not the rest. "You know Bregan D'aerthe?" he asked cautiously.

Winter ignored him. "If you are coming, then hurry. We have to leave now." Then she swept back towards the kitchen. You had to trot to keep up with her, but you turned back once to look for the twins.

Veldrin and Ssussun dove on Entreri, kissing him on either cheek, murmured hasty farewells, waved wildly, then dived after Winter. On the table, the glass kitten froze, now an inanimate, dead object. You made a wolfish chuckle at the rather stunned-looking human before loping after them. He would be rather confused for a while...but you could not be bothered to think about him now.

Only a human.

Winter tossed a small bag of coins at Taor, who caught it, waved at her, and then jerked his head in the general direction of Entreri. She shrugged, said, "Just do not damage him too much," and virtually leaped upstairs.

"Damage?" Veldrin looked suspicious, pausing at the foot of the steps.

"Selective mindwipe. Do not worry, ladies," Taor wiped his hands on his apron, then opened a cabinet and took out several implements quite obviously not for cooking. They did not inspire confidence, however.

The twins looked at each other, shrugged in concert, placing whatever was bothering Winter on a higher scale of importance over what would happen to Entreri, and then went up after her, you following as well as you could.

Wolves did not handle steps very easily.

Winter was already well into the stages of the portal spell as the twins finished their quick packing. A section of the wall blurred away to show Jarlaxle's office, and she stepped into it. You followed - the rather disconcerting feeling of disorientation pulled at you, but you were used to it now - and the twins leaped out after you.

Winter turned around quickly and tied off the spell, causing the portal to dissipate, then blinked rapidly to try and adjust her eyes back to the infrared range. You did the same.

Rai'gy raised his eyebrows at the twins as Winter rubbed her face with her hands. When she put them down, she wore her true face, to you, an improvement over wearing a copy of the twin's.

"Oh," she said distractedly when she noticed his inquiring glance. "Rai'gy...these two are Veldrin," she waved at Veldrin, who bowed slightly, "And Ssussun," Ssussun mimicked her sister's gesture. "They're demon-angels and friends. Don't ask. Now, what did you plan to do?"

Rai'gy and the others looked a little taken aback, but Rand'eran, predictably, recovered first. "We have to see if he is still alive..."

"Yes...where is Crenshinibon?"

Berg'inyon pointed wordlessly at the empty desk. The shard lay on it, with only the faintest of light emanating from it. Winter stalked over and drew Irr'liancrea then brought the sword down in a blur of blue. Irr'liancrea screeched audibly to a halt several inches from the shard, as if encountering some sort of shield.

"What in Lloth's name are you doing?" Rai'gy started forward.

Winter sheathed Irr'liancrea, then turned around. "Crenshinibon is not 'dead' or inactive - just waiting, as you aptly put it. But for what, it would not tell me. So, we need to find if Jarlaxle is alive...Kel, can you sense him?"

You silently invoked your gift, reaching out - feeling some sort of resistance, such that you could not pinpoint his exact location, but more like a locus where he could be in. But he was alive.

"Kel tells me he is alive," Winter said irritably. "Iblith. Now I have to keep my promise."

"Winter!" Rai'gy chided, but they all looked relieved. The twins, wisely, stayed in the proverbial background, just listening, keeping unusually quiet instead of creating their special kind of havoc.

"Any idea what Reima specifically wants?" Winter asked, fingers absently playing with a strand of her hair.

"Nav! We do not even know what this Reima is," Tilarjen said, looking remarkably as though he had been a captain of Bregan D'aerthe all his life instead of only for a few months. He was as concerned as the others.

"Veldrin and Ssussun can explain that better than I can," Winter waved the twins forward. "Now...Rai'gy, Kimmuriel? We will both try again to counter this barrier. If it does not work - Veldrin and Ssussun will have to try with us. If that still does not work..."

"Yes?" Kimmuriel asked.

"Then I will think of something," Winter said succinctly. "Come."

They did not need your help, so you stayed with the twins while Winter herded the psionist out of the door, Rai'gy following.

Veldrin clapped her hands briefly. "Right. Now, Reima is what is popularly termed an angel, but a better term is a minion of Order."

"Order?" Tantras'nen repeated.

Ssussun sighed. "This could be longer than I thought."

"We have time," Veldrin pointed out. "Very well. The multiverse as you know it has two broad bands of type."

"Three," Ssussun corrected.

"Oh yes. The bands are Order, vulgarly known as Good, Chaos, also known as Evil, and Neutrality. Usually a universe by itself is balanced with evil and good, some worlds more evil, some good, some neutral...like this one. Which means it is balanced. Crenshinibon is an 'evil' shard, Irr'liancrea a 'good' one...am I losing you?" Veldrin frowned prettily at the captains.

"What? No, go on," Berg'inyon urged.

"A long time ago when this world was first made," Ssussun continued, "On another...dimension they were all part of one shard, which was of high enchantment. It was filled with too much magic - so it cracked rather neatly into bits. The two largest bits are what you call Crenshinibon and Irr'liancrea - the other smaller ones are 'normal', non-sentient artifacts of some power but quite insignificant to us now. Storytelling is fun, is it not?"

"Hush," Veldrin snickered. "Anyway, the shards in the beginning were more powerful than they were today, and they did not need...wielders. In their wars against each other they destroyed whole species, mountains, boiled seas, all that. Until finally their destructive power began to affect other...dimensions, and though Chaos did not truly mind this, Order did, so they sent one of their higher powered...officers, known also as angels, down to take care of it."

"I cannot recall his name now, but what he did do was effective - he made limitations on the shards, then finally threw them across time and space - both ended up here. We believe he had bad aiming, because he could not possibly have really wanted them to end up on another place which had life...but perhaps in those days there was no sign of sentient life, and hence he thought it was safe," Ssussun shrugged. "Who cares, as mother says, what the minions of Order do."

"For a long time both shards were buried far away from any possible wielders, except for the occasional time when a traveler would stumble on one, but those sort of times were either quickly curtailed by divine intervention or...something else, usually action helped by the opposing shard. But in any case, both shards wanted power, and both needed wielders. Both countered each other, so neither truly did great damage." Veldrin paused for breath.

Ssussun picked up after her, "Irr'liancrea ended up with Winter, Crenshinibon...now, with Jarlaxle, after causing a lot of havoc since Irr'liancrea was not here to counter it. This has recaptured the attention of Order...and they are sending a different 'angel' down to do something about it. His name is Reima, and he has a worse attitude than the first one."

"What will he do?" Rand'eran asked bluntly.

"Who knows what the minions of Order do?" Veldrin quipped. "He may try to destroy the shard. Or he may not. Or he may throw it."

"What is he doing with Baenre?"

"We have no idea," Ssussun said shortly.

"What does this...Winter have to do with it? Reima's sightings began as she came to Menzoberranzan..."

"Speculations, speculations. Maybe the reappearance of the second shard in the hands of a race popularly known for their evil...alignment forced their hand, maybe our appearance here did." Veldrin opened her arms wide in a gesture of indifference.

"You?" Tilarjen repeated. The captains looked them up and down, probably wondering what two elves of strange coloration had done to attract the attention of powers higher than the gods on this world.

"Us," Ssussun agreed. "As Winter said...we are demon-angels, the offspring of a balor and an angel. Yes, we know it sounds deliciously scandalous, but Order thinks it is an...abomination. Amusing. Perhaps Reima is here for us. Perhaps for both. Perhaps he does not even know of our presence here at all. Is not speculation exciting?"

"No," Berg'inyon muttered.

"Oh, come on," Ssussun glided closer, her eyes speculative again. Berg'inyon took a step back, unconsciously, and you let out a wolfy sigh.

Here we go again.

Winter chose that moment to show up at the doorway. "If the two of you have finished?" she drawled.

The twins pouted. "Can this wait?" Ssussun said plaintively, nearly in reach of Berg'inyon.

"No. Come here." Winter swept off without turning back to see if they would follow. The twins grimaced.

"Don't go away," Veldrin leveled a sultry smile at the captains, then darted after Winter, Ssussun following her twin, though in her case, instead of a smile, she winked mischievously.

You wondered, absently, if you should follow or stay, and sat down on your haunches uncertainly. The captains watched you warily, then as you gave no hostile intentions began to talk amongst themselves.

"...vel'uss phuul nindyn draa *..."

"...abbilen d'Winter *..."

"...ssinssrigg, Rand'eran?"

"...dosstan izil al, Berg'inyon..."

You gave up. The twins had done their 'work' - the captains were not even talking about Jarlaxle now, or anything truly worth listening to. You followed their scent out of the door, leaving the captains behind you.

They had gone down the corridor, through the uneasily murmuring soldiers, all of whom probably already knew that Jarlaxle was missing - Bregan D'aerthe believed in sharing information - and eventually into a room you identified after some squinting at the nameplate as Kimmuriel's. The ornate door was slightly ajar, so you nudged it wider and padded in.

Around a round table sat Kimmuriel, then clockwise Rai'gy, then Winter, then the twins, all wearing near-identical expressions of concentration.

There was no crackling light or flamboyant display of magic, but you had the impression that they were all trying their best to break whatever barrier there was. On the table before her lay Irr'liancrea, hilt pointing towards her, pulsing gently. You trotted over and sat down beside her.

In a while you took a nap, leaning against her stone chair, and dreamt vaguely of Calimport and food.

When you woke up, they were still in the same positions, so you padded over to the door where soldiers were gawking and nudged it closed, firmly, then returned to your position and took another nap, dreaming of spices and Winter fighting, and the twin's laughter.

You rolled awake eventually and sighed - still no change. You were wondering how much time had passed, and began to consider the consequences of licking them awake. Magic always seemed to take so awfully long, physical methods appearing in comparison to be safer and more efficient.

After what seemed like eternity, with all five of them sitting there like puppets with their strings cut, Winter straightened, then the twins, who stretched aching backs, then Rai'gy and Kimmuriel.

"There's no hope, is there?" Kimmuriel said in a dead voice, tousling his hair absently. "Not even when we combined power..."

"Not of plucking him out of there, no," Winter squared her shoulders. "They must push him out themselves...those in Baenre."

"It'd take too long to infiltrate the House..." Rai'gy began.

"She meant members of Baenre." Veldrin explained.

"I believe Lloth is aiding them," Rai'gy murmured, slumped in his chair. "She did not answer me."

"Or maybe she is just watching," Winter suggested.

Rai'gy did not answer - he just closed his eyes and breathed heavily.

"What if Crenshinibon..."

"Nav," Winter said quickly. "I will not work with it even if it agreed to."

"Why?" Kimmuriel stared at her.

"Because Irr'liancrea would not, and if it does not want to work with Crenshinibon, then neither will I." Winter said firmly.

"But if it did work with us..." Rai'gy began.

"Rai'gy..." Winter warned.

"If it worked with us," he continued in a rush, "Would we succeed?"

Winter stared at him, then at Irr'liancrea, then back at him. "Yes...yes it may. There should be enough power. But why speak of the impossible? Find another option, Rai'gy."

"Just a suggestion," he mumbled.

"And not a good one," she said sharply, then softened. "All right, my apologies. But it simply will not happen."

"I wonder if Mother will help," Ssussun said suddenly.

"Morikan, yes, I could ask." Winter straightened.

"Mother?" Kimmuriel said blankly, rolling the word, ilhar, in his mouth as if it were foreign.

"A balor of considerable power," Winter explained. She put her hand on Irr'liancrea. "There is no use for disguise now, is there?" she said gently.

Irr'liancrea pulsed into life, and spoke, something you had not heard it do for years. "I wouldst think so," it 'said', wryly. Kimmuriel made a startled noise, but Rai'gy merely opened his eyes again, wearily. "Mayhap this is a trap for thee."

"I can pick it first then," Winter shrugged. "Open a window to Rael, would you? And knock first. I do not want to see what sort of depraved activity he is engaged in."

"Uk?" Kimmuriel repeated the word 'he', apparently not connecting it with ilhar, but the twins - and Winter - ignored him.

"Thou art aware this is against mine better judgement?"

"Yes. Hurry."

A 'mirror' twirled into being more quickly than Winter could have created one, clearing to show a black marble backdrop and a human man, decently dressed in dark robes of interminable color and with hair of deep red. Cat-like eyes stared out at Winter.

"What?" Raelmaztigar snapped. "Winter, I'd have you know I am engaged in something of a delicate nature now, and I do not appreciate..."

"Mother, we may need your help," Ssussun said before Winter could reply.

Rael appeared to soften a little, but he continued firmly, "I know exactly what is happening now over at your side, and no, you do not need my help. It is Order's right to deal with shards. If I were to go over now it would breach several treaties...not to mention create all sorts of bother about balors wandering around the Prime Material Plane and members of the Council interfering with mortal affairs."

"Keep in mind, Winter - whether this Jarlaxle dies or not, whether this Crenshinibon gets a new owner or not - this is insignificant to me as a rat's death would be to you. Now have the courtesy to go away."

"New owner?" Winter, sharp-eared, grasped that fact first.

Rael opened his mouth, then shut it again quickly. "I have said too much already." He turned to regard the twins. "Veldrin and Ssussun, it is still not too late to return home. I will not be free to come after you."

"We're staying with Winter," Veldrin said firmly.

Rael raised an eyebrow.

"Once we go home, you may never let us come back anyway," Ssussun agreed, pragmatically.

"Quite," Rael muttered, then said irritably. "Winter!"

"Okay, okay," Winter made a gesture, and the window disappeared. She muttered to herself, "Well, that was not too much of a help."

"Who was that?" Kimmuriel managed finally.

"A balor." Winter replied.

"A balor?" Rai'gy repeated, in disbelief.

"Rai'gy, if I wanted someone to repeat everything I said I would have purchased one of those colorful birds known as parrots while I was in Calimport. Be quiet. Now, about this Crenshinibon getting a new owner...that can only happen if Jarlaxle willingly gives ownership to another. So he would be kept alive...though he may wish he were dead, if I judge Baenre correctly," Winter said curtly. Rai'gy groaned.

"So now what?" Ssussun said, just as bluntly.

Winter closed her eyes, then opened them slowly. "Is there a totally secure place?"

"Jarlaxle's office in the Clawrift," Kimmuriel said promptly, then just as promptly asked, "Why?"

"I think I may have to try the same trick I pulled many decades ago." Winter smiled, and it was not a very nice smile - it was full of old pain, and new, grim determination and knowledge that there was no other choice, no other way she could see to turn.

The twins and Kimmuriel looked uncomprehending, as you felt so.

Only Rai'gy appeared to know what she meant. He half-started from his chair in shock and denial. "Nav, Winter! You cannot..."

Winter rose from her seat, the same brittle smile wreathing her features. "Oh yes, I can. It is time for Reima...and his allies...to learn why I am called 'Winter'..."

Then she misquoted what you recognized as one of the main (more popular) holy texts of Lloth, though her words did not seem less grim because of it.

"Let the season of soft snow and harsh cold consume Menzoberranzan."

***

Chapter 18: Snow and Ice

Kimmuriel, treating the idea of walking to the Clawrift with disdain, merely portalled the lot of you there with calculated indifference. Once in the extraplanar office, Rai'gy turned to regard Winter, who busied herself by clearing Jarlaxle's table, then sat down in one of the stuffed chairs experimentally - though not the mercenary leader's.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?" he asked, for the fifth time.

"I keep my word. Unless you have a better idea?" Winter snuggled down into her seat, apparently found it comfortable enough, then stood up and drove half of Irr'liancrea into the table near the side closest to her. No one protested.

"Nav..."

"There we go, then." Winter sat down again, then paused. "I will, of course, shield Bregan D'aerthe and certain other...areas of the city. Call back all the soldiers, if you will, or I will not be responsible."

"That was not what concerns me. Winter, the last you tried this, you nearly died." Rai'gy snapped.

"Let us hope this time does not take that long, then." Winter replied calmly. "Kimmuriel, can you keep an eye on House Baenre? When it looks like they would release Jarlaxle, get some medical aid here." The unspoken phrases: Because Lloth-rituals involving healing just may conveniently not work. And I may not be in a good enough shape to heal him myself.

Kimmuriel looked puzzled but nodded.

"We'd help," Veldrin said. "I think we know what you are about to do..."

"Good luck," Ssussun nodded.

"Oh, and Rai'gy?" Winter began, eyeing the twins.

"Yes?" Rai'gy asked.

"Keep an eye on these two. They may be quite dangerous if they wish to be." Winter said dryly. "Veldrin and Ssussun...considering the structure of Bregan D'aerthe, I hope you would amuse yourselves safely."

"Oh, we will," Veldrin said cheerfully. "Do not worry. You can do it."

"Thank you." Winter acknowledged, patted you, put her hands on the armrests, then closed her eyes, as if falling asleep. Irr'liancrea pulsed more brightly, then settled into a steady rhythm.

Nothing else appeared to happen, and you thought about the general non-flashiness of Winter's magic as opposed to those by street magicians or that in cheap tales.

"What is supposed to happen?" Kimmuriel asked finally, impatiently. Winter appeared not to hear - indeed, she now seemed frozen into a statue, her breathing dangerously slow, but even, in time with Irr'liancrea's pulses.

"Go outside and you'd find out," Rai'gy stalked in a tight circle. "Lloth. The last time she held out for nine...Narbondel cycles she took six months to recover properly. Six months!"

"Ah, but now she is stronger," Veldrin said confidently.

"Still..."

"I know," Ssussun comforted.

"What is supposed to happen?" Kimmuriel repeated.

"Open a window over a random place in Menzoberranzan." Rai'gy suggested absently. "Though it should take a few hours for the full effect to start, so going outside would be better as a demonstration."

"Then we go," Kimmuriel said decisively, grasping hold of Rai'gy's shoulder and half-dragging him out of the office. The twins followed, chattering to themselves, and you did as well.

Outside you looked over an immense chasm, the Clawrift. Peering down into the darkness, you could not see the bottom of the deep, sheer-sided drop. Nothing else seemed to be different - except that the temperature was much, much lower and seemed to be dropping steadily. The elves' and the twins' breath made white clouds of condensation in the chilly air.

"Is this it?" Kimmuriel said, eyes wide, rubbing his cold hands together absently. "This will rescue Jarlaxle?"

"Wait till it starts snowing," Rai'gy said sourly. "I know not what other...plan Winter is going to use with this...but I suspect it would be the same as the last. Let us go back in."

"Snow?" Kimmuriel repeated the alien word, blankly.

"You will find out."

***

Back at the first office you had entered, Rai'gy frowned slightly as the twins approached the captains. In a remarkably short time, all of them were chatting happily.

He glanced at you - you shrugged the best you could, and his mouth twitched slightly as if in humor.

Finally Berg'inyon voiced the underlying question, "What exactly is Velve...that is, Winter about to do?"

"First she would freeze up the city, then the...blizzards will start," Rai'gy said sourly. "Ah. Can one of you spread the message that all soldiers undercover in Menzoberranzan Houses are to return at once to the closest Bregan D'aerthe post. We can only hope that this does not last long enough for the situation to become overcrowded."

Rand'eran nodded and left.

"Freeze?" Tilarjen mused. "That may be one thing that Menzoberranzan is not prepared for."

"We can only hope it works." Tantras'nen said mildly.

"Oh, it will," Veldrin said with endearingly careless confidence.

"How will this...bring about Jarlaxle's release?" Berg'inyon inquired.

"Trust Winter," Ssussun shrugged.

"Can we?" Kimmuriel said, bluntly.

Rai'gy nodded. "She will keep her word."

"And you are not so different," Kimmuriel responded. "Rai'gy, at any moment you are about to collapse. Go and rest."

"Watch your own words," Tantras'nen smiled. Indeed, both Kimmuriel and Rai'gy looked very, very weary. They too, left the office, presumably to get a bit of rest.

You glanced at the twins, whom were skillfully dividing attention between the three remaining ex-weapon masters. Shaking your head, you padded out of the room. Perhaps there was some place here you could sleep...or perhaps you could try Rai'gy's place. He did not seem like a bad sort.

The corridors were familiar to you, and you remembered old times here with clarity, some good and some bad...but you did not truly miss it, like you hardly ever missed Irinelaeran any longer except when on some unpleasant escapade with Winter.

Winter...you wondered why she had used this apparently self-destructive method in the past. Six months to recover was a long time, though perhaps not too long to your...original species. What sort of trouble had she gotten into that needed this rather drastic measure to pry her out of?

Whatever it was, possibly only Rai'gy knew now, and he probably would not tell you even if you knew how to ask him in a way that he would understand.

***

As Winter had said, Bregan D'aerthe headquarters and posts kept their normal temperature, while that of the outside continued to plummet. Rai'gy, Kimmuriel and the captains weighed potential loss of the lives of soldiers over the potential loss of trust from the Houses they had infiltrated, then called all outpost soldiers back.

In an hour or so after you had rested there was an excited buzz in the building, and you saw that around every window there seemed to be a small knot of gesticulating and pointing soldiers.

With some shoving and nudging you managed to get to the closest window. It was shut, the glass slightly grimy, but you could see the outside perfectly clearly.

White dots appeared to be falling down from somewhere above, as if from the ceiling of the great cavern, teased past the window by an unnatural breeze. The word 'snow' was repeated often, and with some hoisting you managed to raise yourself high enough to look down at the street.

Most of the snow was, so far, still melting or turning into a muddy slush on the ground, but it was still falling, and apparently getting ever so gradually heavier.

From here, it looked more pretty than dangerous, and you wondered how Winter thought this could stop a city, having never seen snow before.

You retreated out of the room, greeted by a few soldiers, and wondered if you should find the twins. Deciding that by now they had probably come up with ways to amuse themselves, you went to wander around Bregan D'aerthe.

When you had re-inspected most of the rooms and was growing steadily bored with the entire business, you returned to one room which you knew had a window.

By now the soldiers, also bored by watching the snow fall, and started to play cards with themselves or similar gambling games on most available spaces. Rai'gy, Kimmuriel and the captains had brought Bregan D'aerthe to a grinding halt at a suggestion from Winter, and you thought of trust.

It was definitely snowing more heavily outside now, vision nearly obscured by the apparently continuous translucent white pouring that was blown around by the wind that whistled and shrieked and rattled impotently at the windows. Oddly, or perhaps not so strangely, even though the walls were comparatively thin, no hint of a chill entered the building.

You raised yourself up on the windowsill and glanced around. Of the street outside you could only see white. White seemed to cover every surface now, like a pristine blanket...very deadly, perhaps, to those who had been caught in the blizzard, even those indoors without heating, and you understood.

Even Narbondel seemed to be fighting a losing battle. From here its infrared signs flickered madly on and off, like a candle flame about to be smothered.

And...strange! You could see shapes, moving on the ice.

Pressing your nose to the glass, you finally made out irregular shapes - a rothe-like one there, a humanoid-like one here, bulky, crude, and as if made of ice, shambling through the blizzard as if it was not there. And if you tried to focus on them through the screaming wind, you seemed to hear guttural, primitive roars.

The soldiers appeared to have noticed them for some time already - they called the creatures L'snow phindaren, the snow monsters, but seemed untroubled by them.

You wondered vaguely what Winter had done.

Watching the shambling, apparently aimless movements of the creatures for a while, you decided to go and find Kimmuriel or Rai'gy. Perhaps they would be scrying.

***

They were.

Kimmuriel, in his chamber, stood next to Rai'gy before several 'windows'. Two of these continually shifted views over Menzoberranzan, which appeared to be nearly covered in snow, except for certain shanty towns. One was of Winter, still in the exact position in which you had left her, a serene, if slightly strained smile on her face.

One was over a huge compound, also ice-covered, the courtyard empty of activity. It had a strange fence that looked like a massively woven spiderweb, and this you guessed to be the infamous House Baenre.

There appeared to be a larger concentration of the snow phindaren here, shambling about, getting stuck on the web-fence, forming inside the compound...

"Is it working?" Kimmuriel was asking Rai'gy.

"I have no idea," Rai'gy said, looking more rumpled than usual but more recovered after his rest.

"You have no idea?" Kimmuriel repeated in disbelief.

"I only saw the later parts of this...trick," Rai'gy explained. "I do not know if it would work again."

"Why did she use this before?" Kimmuriel mused.

"Capture by her own House," Rai'gy glanced at the windows over Menzoberranzan. "This...tricked them enough to throw her out in the snow. Watch House Baenre. Sooner or later what she calls the Snow King will turn up with his demands. All her own imagination, of course."

"And this...Reima will not suspect?"

"Unless he knows of her. Or even if he did suspect, I do not think he knows of that extraplanar dimension. No doubt he will try to find her on this dimension first. Perhaps Irr'liancrea can take care of it." Rai'gy sounded doubtful.

You knew that if that Reima were to try to confront Winter in the...extraplanar dimension, the twins would try their best to help, and so felt better than Rai'gy looked.

"How will this harm her?" Kimmuriel asked.

Rai'gy shrugged. "She never fully explained to me what would happen. But from what I believe, she manages to merge her...spirit into that of a true winter season on the surface, and bring it here, and control it. She will be very weary for a long time after this - and very cold, because after she stops controlling this winter and takes her spirit back into her body, it is still touched with frost. She may catch...I believe she called the word 'hypothermia' or worse. As I had mentioned before, she nearly died several times the last she tried this."

"And Winter's...abbilen? Ssussun and Veldrin?" Kimmuriel murmured.

"They have power," Rai'gy said simply. "And apparently they may be one of the reasons why Reima is here."

"Then Bregan D'aerthe..."

"L'ogglin d'ussta ogglin zhah ussta abbil, *" Rai'gy quoted.

"Ol xal tlu ji...but they make me uncomfortable." Kimmuriel muttered. "They are from the Abyss."

"So is Lloth our Goddess," Rai'gy chided.

"If Lloth were to appear here in front of me, I would also be uncomfortable," Kimmuriel chuckled, then glanced at you as you went to curl up in a corner of the room. "Another of her abbilen?"

Rai'gy shrugged, dismissing you as another of Winter's eccentricities. You did not know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.

***

At least the twins remembered enough to feed you, you thought, at their table in the large canteen in the building. Predictably they did have several admirers of common soldiers, which backed off respectfully when the captains Rand'eran and Berg'inyon appeared. The other two captains had been sectioned off to other main Bregan D'aerthe buildings.

You finished quickly and padded off to do something else other than watch the twins continue their 'play'. At least they seemed unconcerned.

***

Two cycles of Narbondel later, and the snow was waist-deep, a soldier reported to Rai'gy. The two of them still sat at Kimmuriel's chambers scrying, with the occasional dishes of food pressed on them.

"See," Rai'gy pointed at the 'window' overlooking Baenre.

"The 'Snow King' you had been speaking of?" Kimmuriel said, after a while.

"A figment of her imagination," Rai'gy nodded, but you sensed admiration in his voice. It took a lot of will power to animate so many objects.

You strained to look, and saw a figure sitting on what appeared to be a high-backed, elaborate throne in Baenre's courtyard. Kimmuriel changed the view closer, and the figure became clearer. It was a humanoid-like creature, but massively built, as large as minotaur, with a strict, forbidding face wreathed with a luxuriant beard. From his temples sprang large antlers not unlike that of rakshalk, Underdark elk, though of course scaled much smaller. The giant elk stood nearly twice as tall from the shoulder as any elf.

He was speaking to a small blue disc.

"Communication disc," Rai'gy murmured. "To Baenre, I would think?"

Kimmuriel appeared to do nothing, but abruptly sound filled the room, as if all of you were inside the Baenre compound.

"...and demand Baenre immediately give up Jarlaxle to the ice." The Snow King's voice was harsh and soft at the same time, snow and ice, along with a certain whistling hissing undertone like a winter's wind. He spoke in slightly hesitant, broken drow, which was nearly painful to listen to.

A voice seemed to come from the disc. "Until Jarlaxle bequeaths the ownership of the artifact known as Crenshinibon to me, you cannot have him."

"Triel Baenre," Kimmuriel identified.

Bequeath...

"So that was why they wanted him," Rai'gy said.

"If I understood Winter's abbilen, did they not say that Reima wanted to destroy the shards?" Kimmuriel looked puzzled.

"Who knows what he...or it wants to do," Rai'gy rubbed a cramp in his shoulder blades thoughtfully.

"Then I will bury Menzoberranzan in snow and ice," the Snow King said with deadly calm, as if this was perfectly easy. "I am familiar with the drow ways. Your tortures are extreme - he may die, or find a way to kill himself. And the only one whom will have the privilege of killing Jarlaxle must be myself. I wish to be revenged on him. Many years he has been safe enough, so I have had time to build up my revenge, but you hurry matters, Matron, and it appears that I must act."

The voice from the disc was angry now. "You can not wait?"

"I am not used to waiting."

"Nav, then, and light take you!"

"Then see Menzoberranzan freeze to its death. When your people die and join my army of ice, in my vengeance I shall freeze all drow cities one by one, until your entire race is extinct." Again, said with deadly calm.

"I do not believe you can do this."

"Then watch." The Snow King extended his hand and grasped the disc, crushing it. When he opened his palm again, it was gone.

Kimmuriel turned off the sound and whistled. "I did not know one could banish a Matron's speak-disc."

"You have not known Winter for very long," Rai'gy continued to rub his shoulder.

"This may work...or they may hasten and up their efforts to force Jarlaxle to hand over ownership of Crenshinibon..."

Rai'gy closed his eyes and did not reply.

As you watched the windows, you saw that outside, the blizzards seemed to be worsening noticeably.

***

A short while after the start of the third Narbondel cycle, Narbondel itself stopped working. The ArchMage, apparently, could not start the fire - the tower had been clogged with snow and frozen over with ice.

The city slowly began to freeze to death.

"She did not go this quickly the last time," Rai'gy remarked. Jarlaxle's inner circle sat in Kimmuriel's chambers, watching the windows.

"How many dead?" Berg'inyon murmured.

Kimmuriel shrugged. "Many from the noble houses, especially the smaller and poorer ones, and not only slaves."

"Triel has to give in soon," Rand'eran predicted. "It does not look like this Reima is helping to shield House Baenre from the cold." Snow covered the massive building, as if crushing it under its weight.

"Good," Tilarjen murmured under his breath. "Let Baenre freeze."

***

Near the end of the third cycle, Tantras'nen spotted movement on the top of one of Baenre's balconies, and called attention to it. Kimmuriel arrived via portal, and enlarged the view, also allowing sound.

Six on the balcony, Triel Baenre, four guards, and a limp, bloody mess just identifiable as a drow. Berg'inyon hissed.

"...take him!" Triel was saying, and two guards caught hold of the drow's shoulders, two others of his ankles, and heaved him over the railing.

"Iblith!" Tilarjen snarled. The height would kill him, if it was Jarlaxle.

"Watch," Rai'gy said tightly.

An enormous, fish-like mouth broke from the snow below, as if the snow itself was only water, large enough to swallow a few of Baenre's towers. It rose with astonishing speed, then closed neatly over the falling figure entirely, before falling back into the snow.

You noticed that the Snow King made a curt bow in Triel's direction, then disappeared. The blizzards stopped, and the monsters too turned into mere interestingly-shaped snow statues.

"Quickly!" Rai'gy pointed to Winter's window, but Kimmuriel had already opened a portal. All of you rushed through, to see another sort of dimension door, the flat planar type, opening a few feet over Jarlaxle's desk.

Kimmuriel was shouting for medical aid outside the door, but the rest of you watched with silent fascination, the blue colors swirling as if mixed by an unseen hand.

Then the bloody figure of Jarlaxle landed gently on his side facing Winter on the desk, singed, broken, skin still melting in some patches due to some sort of acid, fingers a raw red mess, some of his nails pulled out, his eyes closed and blackened, welts on his back as if from whips. He wore a dirty loincloth stained with his own blood and worse. Only his harshly ragged breathing would have made you believe that the tortured remains were still alive.

You trotted to Winter's side and looked at her, and felt horrified. Her skin was frosted over, and there seemed to be some sort of faint blue light flowing into her from Irr'liancrea. You could feel the intense cold radiating from it.

What was the sword doing?

But she opened her eyes, slowly, and rubbed off the thin coating of ice on her eyelashes, and slowly smiled, wearily, but with grim triumph.

Unbelievably, Jarlaxle raised his head to regard Winter, and they watched each other for a short, uncomfortable moment.

Then Winter's smile widened. "By Morikan, you look like hell."

***

Chapter 19: Intimacy

"Winter?"

Someone knocked on the door to the chamber, and you looked up from the foot of the bed, senses muffled by sleep, with a bad taste in your mouth, but rising slowly back to alertness. Winter, predictably, slept on peacefully. She had been sleeping - or unconscious - for quite a while. After staying conscious long enough to see that Jarlaxle was getting treated, she had then allowed Rai'gy to herd her away to rest. Irr'liancrea was still embedded in Jarlaxle's desk, for all you knew.

The guest chamber was painfully empty - just the bed and a stone table none the worse for wear. Old smells told you that this room had, more often than not, been used for a sick room.

Winter felt unbelievably cold. If you were to stand an inch or so away from her, you would feel the cold actually radiating from her skin as she somehow, slowly, began to merge it back into her and bring herself back to a 'normal' temperature. But, as Rai'gy said, it would take time - and a longer time for her body to recover from the damage the cold would wreck. At least with a blanket between her and yourself, you did not feel much.

At least frost had stopped forming on her, which Rai'gy said was a good sign.

At least she was not 'in danger of dying' as Kimmuriel had observed.

At least...

The twins occasionally came in to warm Winter's extremities magically - fingers, toes and ears, speak amongst themselves about inconsequential things, then wander off. You decided to nap on her feet - a living hot water bottle, Veldrin had said (and giggled). But there was nothing much else to do in this place.

The door opened, and Jarlaxle stepped in, wearing plain robes for once, his normal hard black boots and some bangles on his wrists and ankles, though no hat. Apparently plans were still underway to recover the rest of his clothing from House Baenre. Jewelry clashed noisily on each other as he turned to close the door, then were silent as he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge.

You wondered if growling was a good idea, this close. Triel Baenre had probably confiscated his dagger-glove sheaths, as they were missing, but that did not make him seem any less dangerous.

Jarlaxle took one of Winter's limp hands, looked startled at how cold it was, and then rubbed them absently with his own. He gave no indication that he knew of your presence, or even cared of it, but continued to stare at Winter's serene features.

You studied him curiously. You had no idea how much time had already passed since the rescue, but he looked like he had made a remarkable recovery. Perhaps Rai'gy had managed to use his healing spells, or perhaps it was one of their miraculous potions. Other than a certain haunted look in his eyes, and the lack of the clothes which he was famous for, he looked like the mercenary leader of old, and nothing like the bloody ruin which had been thrown off Baenre's balcony.

Without much light in the room you had to use infrared vision, and Winter seemed alarmingly cool in it, only the barest of life-signals. The only light - magelight of a particularly weird hue of yellow, courtesy of Ssussun, cast distorted shadows on the ground and on Winter's face.

Not much of a wonder Rai'gy was so concerned...but she had only done this for three Narbondel-cycles. What had happened to her when she held out for nine?

You did not really want to know.

However, on more important matters, Winter was not conscious now, and Irr'liancrea far away. You did not know what the mercenary leader may attempt, and for a short moment considered trying to drive him away. But his actions now were innocuous enough, and you had the feeling he wanted to talk to Winter rather than to try something else with her. He gave no indication that he was still angered by what she had done to him before she had left Menzoberranzan.

After some time Winter's fingers twitched, then twined themselves around Jarlaxle's in a half-aware movement. She let out a sleepy murmur, stirred, then frowned slightly. Her fingers froze, then curled around Jarlaxle's hand again as she opened an eye.

"Well...you look better," she said shortly, rather laboriously, made an effort to smile, then closed her eye again.

"You look worse," Jarlaxle remarked dryly, then added gallantly, "Jhal izil ssin'urn izil p'los, *" and brought her fingers up to brush them with a light, teasing kiss.

Winter opened her eyes again, and chuckled. "Bel'la dos, s'lurrppur *."

"Hmm." You could not see what Jarlaxle did next, but Winter jerked her hand from his grip, then made an effort to push herself up into a sitting position, failing rather miserably. Jarlaxle, oddly, or not oddly, did not help her. Finally she propped herself up on her elbows, half-sitting up, half-lying down, making the pose seem languorous instead of helpless.

"Did you give it to them?" Winter asked bluntly.

"Give what?" Jarlaxle asked innocently, reaching for her hand again. She pulled it out of reach.

"You know perfectly well. Morikan, for someone...who had just undergone torture, you seem remarkably...playful." Winter spoke in short, broken bursts, still tired, weariness making her frank.

Jarlaxle was silent. Winter looked first defiantly demanding, then suspicious, and then finally contrite. "Jarlaxle, I apologize if..."

"Nav...you had a right to ask," Jarlaxle cut off her apology, his voice serious now, flat, with a suggestion of tired horror, more like what you would have thought Jarlaxle to look like. "I did not give it to them."

"You did not? I had underestimated you, then," Winter said frankly, meaning to sound jovial, but not quite succeeding. She slid back into a reclining and more comfortable position, at ease now.

"But I would have," Jarlaxle whispered. "The next time, or the time after that."

The silence after this admission was even longer and strained. Winter, embarrassed and mortified at her lack of tact, and Jarlaxle...well, you did not truly understand the mercenary leader. When you put him under a category, then he would go and do something else, which would make him more confusing than before.

But she did not say something cheery like 'but you did not', or say something sympathetic, which would have made it worse. Both of them knew that.

This time, Winter reached for him, and he took her hand gently, a simple if poignant gesture of trust, mutual alliance, understanding and comfort.

"When do you think you would recover?" Jarlaxle pushed the conversation onto neutral ground.

Winter smiled comfortably - or complacently. "The last time, I took six months."

"Six months!" Jarlaxle whistled. "You take a lot of trouble to keep your word."

The smile lingered. "I like to gamble. However I think this time I should not take half as long."

"Reima is still a threat." Jarlaxle pointed out.

"You may have to work without me, then." Winter shrugged painfully. "You would have had to do that in the beginning. Irr'liancrea and I do not work with Crenshinibon."

"Not even with me?" Jarlaxle said teasingly.

"Nav." Winter said seriously, refusing to be baited.

"Then why did you help me?"

"I gave my word." Winter murmured, as if about to sleep.

"Winter," Jarlaxle said sharply.

Winter, alert again, apparently decided to answer truthfully. "Because, as I once said, both my shard and I think you would be the best one now to be Crenshinibon's wielder. You have the will. Better than Triel, at least." She paused, then smiled wickedly. "And because I like you."

"Ah." This last seemed to have worked where pretending to fall asleep and asking him embarrassing questions had failed to do - stun Jarlaxle into speechlessness.

"The twins would help," Winter continued mildly.

"Twins? You mean Veldrin and Ssussun?" Jarlaxle regained his composure quickly.

"Xas. How many followers do they have now?" Winter chuckled.

"Lost count," Jarlaxle sighed. "You brought them here on purpose." An accusation.

"Yes I did." Winter smirked. "They told me they found drow elves...'adorable', I believe."

"Until the snow finishes melting, at least some of my soldiers have something to do," Jarlaxle said, not disturbed at all. Now it was Winter who looked off-balance, and you wondered if this was a game between the both of them. Neither would acknowledge it if you confronted either of them with it, though.

"They have power enough to help," Winter observed.

"Would they?"

"Most likely," Winter said lightly. "They do get attached to their playmates...and Reima may also be after them. Did you see him?"

"Nav." Jarlaxle shook his head.

"Pity." Winter murmured to herself, "But not much of a surprise."

"Are those abbilen of yours succubi?" Jarlaxle asked dryly, jokingly.

"Close." Winter replied impishly. Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow. "They are of balor and of angels."

"More of balor, I would think," Jarlaxle observed, refusing to voice the normal exclamation when faced with such an admission (What?). Winter chuckled.

"Their mother may be proud to hear you say that."

"Mother?"

"Have you heard of the name Raelmaztigar?"

You wondered if this was conversation for conversation's sake, or truly for information.

"The red lion?" Jarlaxle frowned with the effort of dredging his memory.

"Remarkable." Winter said teasingly. "You actually know."

"As you yourself said earlier," Jarlaxle bantered, "You underestimate me."

"Don't use my words against me," Winter scolded.

"Why not? Since they are obviously of such great learning and justification," Jarlaxle said archly.

"If you are going to be sarcastic you can go and do it somewhere else," Winter pretended to withdraw her hand. Jarlaxle hung on to it.

"But no one else here appreciates it," he grinned outrageously.

"Is that a compliment?" Winter said suspiciously, though a smile was in her eyes.

"Would you like it to be?"

"No, because if it were I may be obliged to return the favor." Winter fenced and parried.

"How blunt." Jarlaxle chided, "You do not like compliments?"

"Not barbed ones," Winter retorted, "Or those which are clearly flattery."

"Then what would you consider a compliment?" Jarlaxle chuckled, light-hearted now.

"You could tell me that I am beautiful." Winter said with an absolutely straight face.

"Very vain," Jarlaxle observed.

"Then again, coming from you, that may not be a compliment after all," Winter said innocently. "You would call a haszak * beautiful if you thought it would gain you an advantage."

"True," Jarlaxle admitted, then tried again, impishly. "What if I were to mean it?"

"I know your ability to go through truth detectors, Jarlaxle," Winter replied tartly, "You could call your skin purple and get away with it."

"Am I that much of a scoundrel?" Jarlaxle said with mock astonishment.

"Worse." Winter said, with wicked truth. "Now, I think I would like to continue sleeping, if you do not mind." She pointedly closed her eyes.

Jarlaxle did not move.

Winter apparently knew this would happen. Her breathing slowed, finally, into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Jarlaxle shook his head in mild wonder. "She meant it," he murmured, sounding surprised, but did not leave the room.

You decided to try. Standing up awkwardly on the soft bed, you padded over to the mercenary and gingerly nosed him in the shoulder. He turned to regard you, and you bared your teeth and growled softly. Go away.

Instead of saying something, or flinching away, Jarlaxle chuckled and patted you with his free hand. You considered the consequences of taking it off with a well-placed bite, then decided that Winter would probably get upset. Besides, it would make a bloody mess on the bed. So you settled for nudging him again pointedly.

"You want me to go away?" Jarlaxle seemed as immovable as a large rock.

You nodded your head, and poked him, this time with a paw.

"What if I do not want to?" he challenged.

You bared your teeth.

He did not back down, but merely watched you calmly. "Do you want a fight?"

You did not respond to that, but braced yourself in case he did.

"I would not think Winter would want a fight now," Jarlaxle said, half to himself, half to yourself, but turned his back on you. Surprised, you closed your mouth with a snap, unsure as to what to do next. Jarlaxle refused to be intimidated or invited out...but you did not want a scene here, where Winter needed rest.

Now what?

Jarlaxle spoke up next. "Would you rather we pretended that the both of us did not exist?" He half-turned to look at you, and you realized that he was grinning, a little devilishly.

You shrugged the best a wolf could, refusing to be charmed. Frankly, at times you wished he did not exist.

"Would you rather we had a truce?" Jarlaxle continued.

Uncertain, you shifted your weight, paws sinking into the bed, unstable ground. Jarlaxle would have a better advantage in a scuffle now, though you were close enough to snap his neck with your jaws.

"What do you not like about me?" he asked, yet another strange question.

What did you not...faced with a direct question, you could not think of an answer. You shrugged again.

"Well done," Jarlaxle chuckled.

"Stop teasing Kel, Jarlaxle," Winter said, awake again. Her eyes were half-lidded with amusement, and you wondered how long she had been listening, or if she had even been asleep at all.

"I am not teasing your abbil," Jarlaxle said archly, and turned to you. "Was I teasing you?"

You shot Winter a glance, then held Jarlaxle's gaze and nodded slowly.

Jarlaxle glared at you, but Winter began to chuckle. "Bel'la dos, Kel. Now, do you have anything else to say, Jarlaxle?"

"Xas," Jarlaxle said indignantly.

Winter interrupted before he got further. "Never you mind, I do not think I wish to hear it. Isn't there something better for you to do?"

"Until the city defrosts, no," Jarlaxle stroked her hand lightly, "I would have you know that your...plan just destroyed a few Bregan D'aerthe schemes in a few Houses."

"Too bad," Winter said with supreme indifference. "How did you know it was mine, really? I saw them show you the snow behind a window once...and they appeared to be asking you questions about whether you knew this would happen, whether this was your fault..."

"I was not very sure," Jarlaxle admitted, "Though I knew that it was very possibly your work...although I had not heard of the 'first time' you attempted this in Irinelaeran."

"They hushed it up," Winter nodded. "So how did you guess? What you said seemed to be important in getting them to toss you off the balcony."

"You did give some indications," Jarlaxle shrugged.

"The snow?"

"Nav."

"The...animated sculptures? I had a few likenesses there of..."

"Nav...did not notice those."

"The wording of the Snow King's speech?"

"I could not hear him."

"Then?"

"The word for 'idiot' in svirfneblin that appeared in large letters on the courtyard," Jarlaxle admitted.

Winter snickered. "I thought that would serve to get your attention...and I was feeling exasperated with you. But you did not know I could write svirfneblin."

"Nav...but I decided to gamble." Jarlaxle smiled, and threw back her words in her face. "I like to gamble."

"What did I say about using my words?" Winter returned his smile.

"Hmm?" Jarlaxle brought her hand up to his mouth again.

Winter twisted her hand, and gently touched his cheek, caressing. "At least you're warm," she said absently, and shivered. What she said did not appear to have any relevance at all, but Jarlaxle did not question her.

"Well," he said silkily, "I could..."

Winter chuckled, interrupting before he could put forward his probably improper suggestion. "Nav."

Jarlaxle shrugged, unfazed, and pressed her hand to his mouth, then replaced it gently on the bed, uncurling from the bed with grace.

"Jarlaxle..." Winter blinked, probably wondering, as you did, why Jarlaxle was going to leave so suddenly.

He didn't.

"Hmm?" he bent over and gently lifted her shoulders off the bed, sat down, then cradled her to himself, right arm lazily around her waist, resting her head on his shoulder, supporting her back with his other arm.

"Jarlaxle..." Winter protested, but snuggled closer instead of pulling away.

"Warmer now?" he chuckled.

"Not really...but more comfortable," she said dryly. "I will not be warmer for a while yet."

"Is there anything I can do?" Jarlaxle asked slyly, but he knew the answer.

"Nav," Winter closed her eyes, then snapped them open. "However, you could let me sleep." she pushed away his right hand, which was getting a little too bold.

"You have been sleeping for at least a cycle," Jarlaxle said defensively, but stayed his hand.

"Only?" Winter said archly.

"And about food..."

"Irr'liancrea took care of that." Winter clapped her right hand on Jarlaxle's as he attempted to stroke her thighs. "Jarlaxle! If I have to use magic to throw you out of here..."

"Will you?" Jarlaxle smiled.

"If I must," Winter retorted, but twisted herself up, the blanket falling away, the robes which were a copy of the twin's dropping away to reveal a large amount of left leg, from just under the hip to well below the knee, where the blanket served to cover the rest. Winter pretended innocently to be unaware of this, but Jarlaxle appeared to stop breathing.

"Ssinssress," he muttered under his breath.

"Ussa?" Winter asked near his ear, with feigned astonishment. She batted Jarlaxle's hand away and placed his arm firmly over her waist. Undaunted, Jarlaxle converted the loose hold into an intimate embrace, but this time, Winter merely chuckled.

"Is this a new sort of torture?" he asked lightly, but his voice become slightly husky.

Winter half-closed her eyes. "Tell me you're not enjoying it."

Jarlaxle's eyes twinkled. "I am not..."

"And you add perjury to your many faults." Winter retorted. "Now if you do not mind, I am going to sleep."

"Nav, I do not mind," Jarlaxle said slyly.

Winter closed her eyes, but continued, "Kel, if he tries something, you have my permission to bite him."

With pleasure.

Jarlaxle sighed.

***

Chapter 20: Angels and Mortals

"Sir, there is someone at the gates asking for you," the soldier said.

Jarlaxle looked up from where he had been discussing possible outcomes with his captains, Rai'gy, Kimmuriel and the twins, and frowned. "Who?"

You were in Jarlaxle's office - the one with the carpet where Winter, the twins and yourself had reappeared in after Calimport. Jarlaxle had called a meeting, knowing that Reima would most probably try to strike while Winter was still out of commission.

Crenshinibon, in Jarlaxle's casual reach, was 'alive' again, pulsing with odd shades of light. It flared brighter now, at the same time the twins stiffened.

"'Tis..." Veldrin began.

"I see," Jarlaxle said tightly. "Well." He began to stand up.

"No need for ceremony," a voice came from behind the soldier, a beautiful, musical voice, the voice of a talented singer - or an angel, in perfect drow. It soothed and calmed, even as you tensed and bared your teeth, you felt like drowsing, lulled by the beauty and cadence of the sound.

The soldier whirled, drawing his sword. A bad mistake - he suddenly caught fire, fire which flared white-hot, so painfully bright that you averted your eyes, spots dancing across your vision. When you looked back, the soldier was a pile of ash and melted metal on the ground.

Delicately, the stranger floated - floated over the sad remains and into the room. A soft aura of white light radiated from him, or it, and it wore simply cut white tunic and what you could crudely call a long skirt, not knowing the exact term for it. It vaguely resembled a human, with rounded ears, though with an unearthly air around it. Gold hair fell around its shoulders - and it seemed neither female nor male. Hermaphrodite?

No large ungainly white wings sprouted from its shoulders. Eyes with gold pupils were wise and thoughtful, face serene, nearly frighteningly so.

The twins hastily got between the stranger and the others. "Uncle Reima," Ssussun smiled disarmingly. "How nice."

Reima turned its perfect face to regard them. "You have a last chance to return to your...balor parent," it pronounced the last word with profound distaste. "I am not here for you yet."

"'Tis the 'yet' that gets me," Veldrin said impishly. "If you'd 'come for' us sooner or later, why not face us now?"

The white aura around it flared brighter.

"Very brave of you anyway, Uncle..." Ssussun began.

"Do not call me that." The serene visage cracked a little.

"Uncle," Veldrin emphasized. "You come here when Irr'liancrea won't be able to help."

"I am not here for good-aligned shards." Reima said coldly.

"I would agree with Veldrin," Jarlaxle said quietly. "Rai'gy, Kimmuriel...all of you get out of here."

Tilarjen blinked. "Sir..."

"Now."

Unwillingly, they left, with a few backward glances. Jarlaxle waited, then closed his hand on Crenshinibon and walked slowly around the table to stand with the twins. Knowing that this was probably suicidal, you did, too.

"Go away, Reima," Jarlaxle said, with a measured tone. "Can you beat all of us?"

Reima looked all of you up and down. "Yes." It said, simply, and you knew that it spoke the truth.

"I'm insulted," Veldrin put her hands on her hips.

"You have lost your queen, Veldrin - you cannot hope to take the game," Reima pointed out gently.

"We can see about that," Ssussun said, and narrowed her eyes. A ring of gold-tinted fire formed around the angel, a cold flame - then Veldrin too clenched her fist, and hot, black fire merged with the ring.

Reima watched calmly, apparently not discomfited at all even as the ring constricted quickly and appeared to consume it.

Then the fire dissipated, to show the angel - unharmed and mildly curious. "Where did you learn that from?"

"Ain't telling you," Veldrin stuck her tongue out at Reima. Jarlaxle looked slightly astonished at the twin's lack of seriousness even in the face of danger.

"This is how you do it." Reima continued. It made no move, but a ring of fire sprang up around all four of you, hotter than the twin's flame, and slowly began to constrict. Jarlaxle's hand tightened on Crenshinibon, and the shard flared, but to no apparent effect until the twins too, put their hands on the shard.

The fire, slowly and grudgingly, died down into nothing.

Reima looked unconcerned.

"Are all angels this violent?" Jarlaxle grinned. "I thought your kin was supposed to be kind and gentle."

"Wrong sort of angel," Ssussun smirked. "Mother'd make better angels than most of 'em."

Reima's face darkened.

"Truly? Then they must be a depraved lot." Jarlaxle said casually, not knowing whether the twins wanted to anger Reima for the sake or it or if they had some sort of plan in mind, but deciding to follow their cue.

"As bad as balors." Veldrin agreed.

"Do not slander Order," Reima said coldly, and you suddenly felt a crushing weight, on your heart, as if forcing it to stop...your vision began to black out, and your breathing began to stop...

Then the weight was taken off, and you gasped for breath, coughing and hacking, relieved and feeling way out of your league.

"Mortal," Reima said to Jarlaxle. "Why do you persist in keeping this artifact? Give it to me, and I shall leave."

"Go to hell," Jarlaxle pointed the shard at Reima. A bright bolt of varying colors shot out, and struck the angel in the chest, causing it to stagger back a little. More bolts followed, at a greater and greater rate, then the angel straightened, and the bolts began to be absorbed by some sort of barrier.

Jarlaxle stopped, and the barrier took the colors of the bolts. Then an immense bolt fuelled by the absorbed energy hissed through the air towards the four of you.

The twins hastily held out their hands, creating a barrier nearly exactly like that protecting Reima. The large bolt was stopped by it...then broke through. The twins quickly brought up another barrier, then another, then another...until the bolt lost enough energy to be absorbed safely.

"Clever," Reima commented, then turned back to Jarlaxle. "Mortal," it said, "Give me the shard."

Jarlaxle's answer was a bolt of a larger size than the one the angel had hurled at the four of you, fueled by the absorbed energy and amplified.

The angel disappeared under the blast, but then the energy changed to a yellow hue and earthed itself, making the ground ripple slightly, and then return to normal. Reima, however, now held a lance with a large, wickedly barbed point. The lance was forged of some shiny, silvery metal, and was neither carved nor studded with jewels.

"'e grounded it to 'nother dimension," Veldrin grumbled.

"What is that lance?" Jarlaxle frowned. "Or more accurately, what does it do?"

"Kill people," Ssussun suggested. "It's known as Taijsien...supposedly absorbs energy. Or something. Or it enhances. I can't remember."

"Don't let it touch you," Veldrin agreed. "I remember. It takes you and dumps you in the Grey Dimension. Limbo."

"Right," Jarlaxle murmured.

Reima attacked, swooping down at Jarlaxle, lance swinging. With surprising agility Jarlaxle dodged out of the way, as did you. The angel would have looked funny if you had been a spectator, but you were not, and you hastily leaped over another swipe. However, Reima was clearly unconcerned about you, and he continued to go after Jarlaxle.

"Reima," Ssussun cooed. The angel paused and turned its head.

"Catch." Veldrin said. Arrows formed in front of them, some black, some silver, and shot forward as if by some unseen bow. You guessed this was another merging balor-angel magic trick.

Reima created an umbrella that looked as if it were made of paper, put the domed top facing the twins, then spun it quickly. Arrows glanced off the spinning surface to clatter and dissolve on the ground. The twins kept up the apparently futile assault, and you wondered idly why...

Then the angel was hit by another burst of energy that threw it heavily into the wall. Jarlaxle lowered Crenshinibon and looked slightly satisfied, then annoyed as Reima floated back into the air, apparently unhurt, only slightly out of breath.

"Mortal, if you wish power I can give you some," Reima told Jarlaxle. "You do not need to fight me."

"You know my answer," Jarlaxle said mildly.

"Why do you refuse? Crenshinibon is a manipulative shard, and it will seek to control you."

"Unless I earn its respect enough for it to work with me," Jarlaxle retorted, firing another bolt which Reima deflected easily.

"That may never happen." Reima said coolly. "Crenshinibon is unlike Irr'liancrea."

"All things may change," Jarlaxle replied.

"Then you are a fool."

"Whether you think I am or not does not truly bother me," Jarlaxle shrugged. "Very few opinions matter to me."

Reima's reply was cut off as the twins charged it, holding similar lances now, having taken the interlude to 'copy' the one in Reima's hands. It blocked Ssussun's slash, and dodged Veldrin's. However, Jarlaxle chose that moment to fire another bolt, which clipped it on the shoulder.

Its eyes blazed, but it had to twirl away from both the twins as they pressed in.

Right in front of you. You leaped and bit it hard in the ankle, twisting to break bone, then quickly lunged away, a wolf's hit-and-run tactics.

Reima had no blood. You blinked, and turned back to regard the creature. At least it felt pain...fury now replaced the serenity on its face, but the teeth-marks healed.

It pointed at you, and then you had to dodge tiny lightning-bolts that sizzled past your tail and occasionally rebounded from walls. At least you were diverting attention...

A hurried glance in Reima's direction - the twins materialized on either side of the creature, and thrust their lances in...but Reima had disappeared, and the lances clashed in mid air.

It reappeared behind Jarlaxle, who appeared to have been suspecting this, because he leaped to the side, avoiding the nasty stab by the lance. Jarlaxle drew his slender sword in his free hand and parried the next blow, firing more bolts at Reima, which were deflected by a barrier.

Remarkably, Jarlaxle was a good fighter - that fact seemed to be overlooked usually due to him flaunting his other...talents, and was holding out. The twins dashed over and joined in, and somehow Reima managed to take on all three of them without either of their weapons getting a hit.

Time for you to try again. Unnoticed, you sneaked behind Reima, then gathered your strength and weight into your hindquarters and leaped high into the air, crashing into the angel's back and fastening your teeth into its shoulder. Your jump had not been timed well enough to get a grip on its neck, which would have been preferable...

Reima let out a harsh cry of pain, and a great force tore you off him and slammed you into the wall with enough force to darken your vision. You shook your head and winced at the pain - probably broke a few ribs.

After a few false starts you managed to look up.

Your distraction had allowed Jarlaxle to stick his sword in Reima's leg, and it stuck out at a strange angle. Unconcerned, the angel grasped the hilt and pulled it out...and the twins took that moment to attack again with their lances, now wreathed in flames, and Jarlaxle tried another high-energy bolt.

You realized wryly that the impact of yourself on the wall had cracked it, and you attempted to crawl to your feet and back into the fight, but a sharp pain shot down your front paw and hind leg. You'd broken something worse than ribs. Helplessly, you sank down, out of the fight.

Reima parried with his lance and Jarlaxle's sword even as the wound closed up, and though the bolt appeared to penetrate a few layers, it was finally stopped and absorbed. It waved a hand, and you felt the edges of a shockwave that flung the three away from it - and more importantly, a certain distance away from each other. Jarlaxle crashed noisily into the wall close to you, harder than you had, and snarled. His hand was clenched so tightly on the shard, the knuckles were white.

The twins were slowly picking themselves up, but Reima waved a hand dismissively at them...and dimension doors appeared over them, which abruptly fell down, engulfing them and finally disappearing when they touched the ground.

"I hope Raelmaztigar has the sense to keep them out of the Prime Material Plane," Reima was saying, and you knew what it had done - it had sent the twins back to the Abyss, where their mother would most probably not let them back here.

Two allies lost.

Jarlaxle was breathing heavily, still seated on the ground. He did not try to get up even as Reima approached slowly. You could see sweat on his bald head, and his expression was desperate...and determined.

The twins did not reappear...and Reima was a few feet away.

Then it suddenly stopped, against a barrier. It frowned, though it did not seem too bothered. "Mortal," it said, "One last chance."

"Vith'os." Jarlaxle said coldly.

Reima held up its hand, slowly, then clenched its fist. Jarlaxle flinched violently - and there was a small white flash as the magical barrier broke. Reima continued to approach - then its lance pointed an inch before Jarlaxle's forehead.

"Mortal," it said, gentle yet firm, "You give me no choice."

Jarlaxle closed his eyes.

The blow never came. Abruptly the creature was knocked a fair distance away, where it hit Jarlaxle's desk. Jarlaxle's eyes flew open, and he turned to the doorway - and blinked.

Winter stood there, holding Irr'liancrea with both hands, and she walked in, jerkily. You felt suspicious - Winter normally walked with a quiet grace that would put any Matron to shame.

Her eyes were open - but radiated some sort of blue light, without pupils. Irr'liancrea pulsed in time to her slow breathing, and you watched her warily as she came to a stop before Jarlaxle.

"Irr'liancrea." Reima said with regret, standing back up in thin air.

"Reima." There was Winter's voice - but more obviously, there was Irr'liancrea's voice. Two spoke together, though one was louder - and you understood - she was under her shard's control.

Jarlaxle, with amazing effort, managed to pull himself to his feet, though he leaned heavily on the wall. You heard something like "And a pawn turns into a queen," murmured under his breath, and you thought of coincidences, and wondered how he knew of the popular surface world game.

"Why would you help your brother?" Reima inquired curiously.

"I do not help my/mine brother." Winter-Irr'liancrea said coldly.

"Then why?"

"I will not tell you/thee. But you/thou must return to where/whence you/thou came."

"If you interfere, then you will suffer the consequences," Reima warned, holding up its lance.

"So be it." Winter-Irr'liancrea did not bother to hold a stance, but charged, faster than ever, if rather gracelessly. Reima slashed forward - she parried. The ring of metal sang out in the room.

Winter-Irr'liancrea was speaking precisely in the arcane tongue of Sanctuary, utilizing Loremaster magic. Bursts of blue fire curled around the sword and on the angel, who somehow managed to shield against it. It was faster than a normal elf, but she was no longer 'normal' now, and they seemed perfectly matched.

Finally they broke away, neither breathless as yet.

"Why did you ally with Baenre?" Jarlaxle asked, mildly.

Reima glanced at him, then apparently decided to answer. "She was to force you to give up ownership to herself, then give the shard to me. In return I would aid her and her house as long as she lived."

"She wanted the power for herself." Jarlaxle said with certainty.

"I considered that possibility," Reima nodded. "If she did not keep her promise, then I would have killed her."

"Why did you not shield the house from cold?" Jarlaxle continued impersonally. "Or try to counter the snow?"

"A waste of effort," Reima said coldly. "And I could wrest the shard away from you if I wished. Dark elves are evil - I would not save your kin. The more of you who meet your Goddess, the better."

"I would only use the shard here against my kin," Jarlaxle said, trying again.

"You, perhaps, but if you were to lose it to another? Like he who called himself Akar Kessel? Better that Crenshinibon find another planet."

"You/Thou cannot destroy it, or will not?" Winter-Irr'liancrea spoke up. "You/Thou seeks power too. You/Thou would absorb it into yourself/thyself?"

"What I do will be." Reima said coldly, but Winter-Irr'liancrea had hit a nerve. "I tarry. For your interference, Irr'liancrea, your wielder will die, and you will share the fate of your brother."

The angel attacked, lance spiraling tightly in some complex sort of move. Winter-Irr'liancrea barely managed to parry, even with her new speed, and let Reima drive her in a circle.

You noticed belatedly that they were nearing yourself and Jarlaxle.

A few feet away, Winter-Irr'liancrea appeared to make a stand, sword flaring more brightly. She flinched to the side, parrying the stab by smashing the lance wide, then began to utter a long string of syllables that seemed to mostly lack vowels.

Jarlaxle somehow managed to slip behind Reima, even with his injuries. Wincing, he drew back his hand...

...as Winter-Irr'liancrea leaped high into the air...

Crenshinibon, tip suddenly dagger-sharp, stabbed into the angel's back, as the blue sword made contact with the angel's head. You expected the creature's head to be cleaved crudely into two by the apparent force of the blow, but instead the angel dissolved into silver light which was sucked into the lance.

Winter-Irr'liancrea landed softly, and said something that sounded like a tying-off word. The lance flared, silver-gold light, then stilled again. "Did not think he would fall for it...but he did. And that...was that." She mused, looking at the lance.

Nothing else seemed to have happened to it - the silver thing sat on the ground harmlessly. But Winter-Irr'liancrea picked it up - no fireworks - and broke it with some effort over her knee. The broken pieces fell to the ground with a muffled thud.

"It's over?" Jarlaxle was swaying slightly, and looking as though he did not believe it was this easy. "That's it?"

"Xas." Winter spoke in her normal voice, then grimaced. "I really shouldn't be out of bed..."

Jarlaxle interrupted her a little rudely by grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a rough, hungry kiss. Winter's eyes widened in surprise, then as you suspected, instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and then kissed him back just as fiercely.

Both Crenshinibon and Irr'liancrea fell to the ground, forgotten like the remains of the lance, and you thought about irony, shards, and what the future might bring.

***

Epilogue

"And where are we now?" The drow male wearing a large purple wide-brimmed hat plumed with huge feathers looked avidly around the wide corridors of the stone building.

One of his companions, a beautiful female drow wearing embroidered blue robes and a cloak with a white dragon motif, grabbed hold of his gloved hand and dragged him on. "Warrior school. We are not really supposed to be here...but I thought I would go and check on Teiwaz before his wedding...since I may or may not be here in Spring. I knew him once."

A large wolf trotted placidly next to the female, less inclined to try to stop and gawk like the drow male.

"Kel, can you try and find him? I believe I am lost," the female said finally with a sigh, as they turned down yet another corridor.

"Winter? Lost?" the male raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Shut up, Jarlaxle." Winter snapped.

The wolf looked around for a moment, then trotted off confidently down another corridor. Winter dragged Jarlaxle along, especially past some of the stranger exhibits that were occasionally found mounted at the walls.

The wolf stopped before an arch, sensing that its companions were no longer following. Winter was pulling Jarlaxle away from another exhibit. "Jarlaxle! By Morikan, I swear you are doing this just to annoy me."

"Doing what?" Jarlaxle asked innocently, but allowed himself to be led.

Several screams cut through the relative silence of the guild, and Winter let go of Jarlaxle and stepped quickly through the arch, the wolf following her.

She sighed. In the large chamber, about thirty students and others were watching some sort of moving picture in a large screen embedded in the wall, just to her right. Several of the group squealed when she appeared, then collapsed into rather hysterical laughter.

A human girl and a gold elf got off their seat on one of the many jousting platforms and picked their way carefully over to Winter.

"Didn't think you'd be here for the Festival of the Past," the handsome gold elf said with a happy smile, and held out his hand.

Winter shook it. "I'm not here for it, Teiwaz," she smiled. "And this is?"

"Oh. This is Rae." Teiwaz fondly put an arm around the human girl's shoulders and hugged her.

"Just like you to forget about me," Rae smiled. It was quite obvious that the two of them were very much in love.

"And these are?" Teiwaz raised an eyebrow at Winter's companions. Jarlaxle, standing at Winter's side, was attempting to watch the moving picture, but she kept a firm hand on his arm.

"Jarlaxle," Winter nodded at him, "And this is Kel, who is much more well-behaved."

"Hey." Jarlaxle protested. "What is this..." He made a gesture at the screen. His voice was slightly distorted - under some sort of translation spell.

"Oh, it's something from my world Morikan allowed us to import over," Rae said helpfully. "Though I really think we should not have watched it so late at night...it's called a movie. The Exorcist."

"Winter." A large reptilian, two-legged creature uncurled itself from the crowd and stepped delicately over. Winter smiled and affectionately patted the creature's shoulder.

"Has Zaknafein been treating you well, Pyrikkan?"

Pyrikkan snorted. "Define 'well'." It turned back and glanced at the screen when some more shrieks erupted from the audience. "Thank you, Rae. I believe quite a few of us will now have nightmares for a while."

Rae stuck out her tongue at it.

"Where is Zaknafein?" Jarlaxle asked curiously.

"Not here. He is the only one who got 'bored' by the movie, I believe the word is." Pyrikkan said dryly. "He may be anywhere, but I would think wandering around here somewhere. Are you the wielder of Crenshinibon?" It peered at Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle patted a crystal shard strapped to his belt.

"Ah." The Saur said vaguely, then returned to its seat.

Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow.

"Saur are like that," Winter smiled. "Even if they look so fierce."

"They can be fierce," Rae pointed out. "Have you seen Pyrikkan fight before?"

"Without magic? Yes." Winter nodded. "Enjoy the movie."

Dismissal, but Teiwaz and Rae smiled in concert, bowed slightly, then picked their way back to their seats and curled up together.

"Nexus pairing," Winter explained, then made as if to leave. The wolf was watching the screen with interest.

"Winter?" the speaker, a tall human male dressed in rich, robed clothing of various shades of white approached. He had very light-colored hair, and his eyes were the oddest of all - all black, with specks of white like stars in a night sky.

Winter took one look and bowed.

The human chuckled. "No need for that. Are you here for the movie?"

Winter straightened, and swayed slightly. Immediately, Jarlaxle put a steadying hand around her waist. "Not really. Mostly for reporting. Sir."

"Who is this?" Jarlaxle frowned at the newcomer.

"My name is Morikan," the human smiled. "Or rather, that is what most call me. My real name is a little long. And you are Jarlaxle. I see...would you warrant your mission successful then, Winter?"

"You told me to observe and judge." Winter said. "I have."

"Report to Tauron later," Morikan nodded. "The information should belong in a book more than on some desk. Would you return to Sanctuary now, Winter?"

"And what would I do here?" Winter asked, the tone of her voice showing that she had asked this question of herself several times.

"You could be attached to another section," Morikan shrugged. "There are many available. The one to the Sword Hall is of age for his own quest - you could stay here. Zaknafein prefers you."

"Zaknafein perversely likes people who can fight him well," Winter said dryly. "Thank you, Morikan - but I would rather continue observing for a while."

"You do that very well," Jarlaxle said slyly.

Winter shushed him. Morikan, on the other hand, looked disgustingly pleased, as if this had been what he had expected all along.

"Do you know where Zaknafein is?" she finally asked.

"I know where everyone is," Morikan shrugged, a trademark gesture. "You have the means to find him." He nodded courteously at the wolf. "Drizzt is here as well...though I did believe I mentioned some sort of rule about bringing in outsiders..."

"Veldrin and Ssussun were grounded by Rael," Winter replied innocently. "I owed them something, and this place is the only place Rael would allow them to go...so I took them along. I take it they found Drizzt?"

"With astonishing speed," Morikan said wryly. "Zaknafein thinks it is amusing, but I trust you would return those two to their parents after this. I do not wish them to be loose in Sanctuary."

"Only natural," Winter said, vaguely.

"See that you will." Morikan said firmly. "I would count your... quest complete. You would get your evaluation eventually... but now I suggest you enjoy the Festival." He nodded at them, then returned to the shadows.

"Now, for Zaknafein." Winter grinned at Kel, who shrugged a wolf's shrug, and padded out of the door.

They found Zaknafein in one of the large indoor squares in the guild, for sparring, reading, or sleeping on one of the many large heaped pillows. The drow sword master was - oddly - sleeping, sprawled over a large number of cushions.

Winter sighed, and drew Irr'liancrea. She lunged forward, and thrust with the sword...

Zaknafein's breathing changed note, and he caught the blade between his palms just before it entered his chest. "Wha..." he opened his eyes, then sighed deeply. "First my son, then two succubi. Can you not let me sleep?"

"You don't need to sleep, Zaknafein," Winter said dryly, sheathing Irr'liancrea. Zaknafein glanced at Jarlaxle, then settled back into the cushions.

"Go away," he said flatly, and closed his eyes again.

Jarlaxle began to chuckle. "That's Zaknafein, all right."

"Who did you think I was, Malice?" Zaknafein snapped. "Can you not understand me? Or is that translation spell awry again? Go away."

"Can I try now?" Jarlaxle twisted his wrist, then suddenly seemed to be holding five throwing knives.

"You might make a mess of the cushions, and you won't hit him anyway," Winter smiled, sitting down near Zaknafein. The wolf snuggled into several pillows with a sound of contentment.

Jarlaxle shook his head, but sheathed his knives, then sat down next to Winter and put both arms around her waist, then kissed her neck. Winter murmured something half-heartedly, then reached for him and kissed the sides of his mouth.

Zaknafein's acid voice cut in. "If the two of you are going to continue, the guest rooms are just down the corridor. Morikan. Is peace too much to ask for?"

"How are you?" Jarlaxle smiled.

Zaknafein did not even bother to open his eyes. "Fine. Now have the decency to go away. Oh yes. And the...twins were interested in the trick you played with Reima's lance."

"Hmm? Oh, I left it with no other choice other than to enter the lance, then as he was trying to return from the Grey Dimension I broke his only way out. I confess I did not expect Crenshinibon to help."

"I did not expect you to try and lock him in the lance...it was just opportunity," Jarlaxle admitted.

"Do not tell me, tell them," Zaknafein said irritably. "However you may have to wait until they have finished amusing themselves on my son."

"They may try it on you later," Winter warned with a wicked smile.

"Let them try," Zaknafein turned his back on them.

The wolf made a sound very much like a snicker.

"Anything else you want to do?" Jarlaxle murmured at Winter.

"Not really." Winter smiled slowly.

"He did mention... guest rooms." Jarlaxle kissed her forehead.

Zaknafein put a pillow over his head pointedly.

"Yes he did. Do you think we should look it up?" Winter chuckled.

The wolf watched them leave, thought better of following them, and peered at Zaknafein, who carefully rolled over, shook his head, then fell asleep again. After some thought, the wolf decided to follow his example.

***

Afterword

The author sits back in her revolving chair and folds her arms in satisfaction. "There!"

Zaknafein puts his hands on the computer table and glances at the screen. "Another story written to slander me."

"Slander? I thought I was being rather accurate." The author snickers.

"What you said about my birth is not true..." Zaknafein pointed out.

"Well, it is purely speculation, since you don't exist anyway." The author shrugs.

"If I do not exist, then neither do you."

"Well, sometimes I wonder about that."

Zaknafein sniffed in contempt. "And as to your ideas of the drow tongue..."

"My ideas? You were the one who translated." The author accused.

"Some of those words do not exist in the language," Zaknafein explained, "And your attitude of 'just add those three letters and it'd be ok' is simply too complacent to be true."

"I'm not writing a dictionary," the author retorted.

"You're writing a 'fanfiction'." Zaknafein rolled the word in his mouth with distaste.

"Yes I am," The author said dryly. "Any issues with it?"

"What is your fascination with Jarlaxle this time?"

"None of your business," the author smirked. "Well then, nice to see I finished this before Servant of the Shard was released here."

"Now we can see how better Salvatore writes than you." Zaknafein said acidly.

"I'm hurt." The author pouts.

"Good." Zaknafein said heartlessly. "Now, as to your concept of all angelic things..."

"So I'm a cynic," The author said defensively.

"All of them either are evil and end up dying, or both. That is not cynical. That is..."

"I get your point," The author said hurriedly. "Can we change the subject now?"

"Very well," Zaknafein relents. "What are you planning to write next?"

"I had a strange idea the other day..."

"...not surprising..." Zaknafein murmured under his breath.

"I thought I'd take the CD Supernatural by Santana and then write little stories based on every song title. Like 'Smooth'." The author grins, a little nervously.

Zaknafein puts a hand on the author's forehead with mock worry.

"I'm not feverish!" she bats his hand away. "Maybe I should have chosen Drizzt for a helper."

"Oh?" Zaknafein raised an eyebrow.

"True. He'd probably get apoplexy fairly early... oh dear. It's so hard to find good help nowadays." The author sulked.

"How childish." Zaknafein snorted. "Now that you've finished your...'fanfiction', you owe me a drink."

"Ah, right. Go downstairs and help yourself. My parents keep their wine somewhere in the back."

Zaknafein bowed slightly and headed out of the door.

The author smiled happily at her computer, then frowned and leaped out of the door after the elf. "Not all of it!"

***

Drow Translations

http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Lair/7677/drowdict.txt

Velkyn velve - Unseen blade
Szith, szithus, szithdra - Ten, eleven, twelve
Szithlyn, szithael, szithal - Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen
Jal wun bwael draeval - All in good time
Ssussun pholor dos - Light take you (drow curse to drow)
Al thalrus - Well met
Mzilst ssin'urn - Very beautiful
Bel'la dos - Thank you
Asanque - As you wish
Usstan zhaun - I know
Uss d'lil velvar - One of the swords
Natha yorn vel'bolen zhahus naut natha yorn zhaunus - A servant of Lloth which was not a servant of Lloth knew
Uss zhalus kulggen uss' abbilen - One should shield ones' friends
Whol abbilen orn alur kyorl dossta rath - For friends will then watch your back
Jhal zhahn tlu kyone del rath'elgar, whol lil uss dos xal khal zhah dosstan - But then be wary of backstabs, for the only friend you may trust is yourself
L'alurl abbil zhah dosstan - "The best trusted friend is yourself.
Abban - Ally
Alur - stronger, superior
Dobluth - outcast
Kyone - careful
Lloth zhaunil - Lloth knows
il alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss - The best blade is the unseen one
Zhuanth'abbil - Old friend
Naut quin - Not yet
Faer - magic
Vel'uss zhaun - who knows
Venorsh - Silence
Waelinar nin - Young(sters) now
Al thalrus, ilhar - Well met, mother.
Dalharilar - daughters
Bel'la Lloth - Thank Lloth
Lael - Eight
vel'uss phuul nindyn draa - who are those two
abbilen d'Winter - friends of Winter
L'ogglin d'ussta ogglin zhah ussta abbil - The enemy of my enemy is my friend
Jhal izil ssin'urn izil p'los - But as beautiful as before
Bel'la dos, s'lurrppur - Thank you, flatterer
Haszak - illithid

***

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