“One more thing, Hweilan. Even if Maaqua agrees to help you-and I think she will-do not trust her. You can loose a snake in your house to be rid of the rats, but once the rats are gone, you’ll still have a snake problem. And Maaqua is a mean old snake.”
When Hweilan and Gleed emerged from the tower, Maaqua’s disciples had finished their makeshift chair for the queen and were giving it the first test. It hardly looked comfortable, but it would hold.
“Done with your plotting?” Maaqua said. “I want to be well gone from this place before dark.”
“And I want you well gone long before then,” said Gleed, though Hweilan heard more teasing than contempt in his voice.
“Still not over me, are you?”
“Being over you was fine,” said Gleed. “It was being under you that used to scare the hair off my toes.”
Maaqua threw back her head and cackled so fiercely that her disciples nearly dropped her. Elret looked torn between shock and indignation. Buureg gave Gleed a wicked smile but turned before his queen could see it.
“Come here, girl,” said Maaqua. “I want this old toad to hear what I have to say before I leave.”
Hweilan walked over and stood in front of Maaqua. Elret looked at Hweilan as if she expected her to kneel, but Hweilan kept her feet.
“I have decided to help you,” said Maaqua.
“Help me?”
“Be rid of that thing nesting in your old home. I won’t lie to you, girl, because I know you’re no fool. I had made up my mind to give that demon what he wants-namely, you-in hopes of buying myself enough time to know how to deal with him. This latest … experience has changed my mind.” The steel and insolence left Maaqua’s countenance, and once again she looked like nothing more than a very old and tired hobgoblin. “There is no dealing with that … thing. Your blood might placate him for a time, but that one has no allies. Or even slaves. Just … prey.”
“No,” said Gleed, his voice grave. “Hunter and prey share a sacred relationship. They serve one another’s purpose. Jagun Ghen”-Maaqua flinched at the mention of the name-“exists only to consume.”
“I’m not here to debate theology with you,” said Maaqua, then she returned her attention to Hweilan. “An army would do you little good, even if I could raise one. But I will aid you and your friends in what ways I can.”
“Thank you,” said Hweilan. But she remembered Gleed’s warning.
Now that they knew where they were going, the hobgoblins proceeded with more eagerness. Though as they walked into the deep gloom of the forest, Buureg kept his sword in hand, and Elret had a tight grip on her staff. Gleed walked just behind Maaqua’s bearers so that they could talk on the way. Despite their constant bickering, both of them seemed to take great pleasure in the conversation.
When they reached the falls, Hweilan retrieved her drum to open the portal. A wicked glint entered the queen’s eye.
“One more thing I haven’t yet told you, girl,” she said. Hweilan said, “Yes?”
“When I was … spying, I did find out one more thing you might be interested in. Your friend Menduarthis … he is still alive.”
“Alive?” said Hweilan. “You’re sure? What is he doing?”
Maaqua scowled as if she’d bitten down on a sore tooth. “What Menduarthis ever does: be a pain in a host’s arse.”
“But I saw him taken,” said Hweilan, “by one of Jagun Ghen’s minions. When Rhan”-her voice caught at the memory-“when he cut off my mother’s head, the thing inside her possessed Menduarthis.”
“True enough,” said Maaqua. “But it didn’t kill the old wind wasp. He has been … taken over, I guess you would say. ‘Possessed’ is the term your Damaran priests prefer, yes? But he’s still alive. And still fighting.”
“What is this?” Gleed said. He stamped one foot, and all the metal on his robes tinkled like tiny chimes. He jabbed Hweilan with his staff. “You told me this Menduarthis died protecting you.”
All eyes turned to the little goblin.
“Old meddler doesn’t know everything after all, eh?” said Maaqua, her grin stretching from ear to ear.
Hweilan said, “He’s-”
But Maaqua cut her off. “Menduarthis is an eladrin whose only loyalty is to himself. He spent decades studying with that Frost Bitch in Ellestharn. He became quite an adept at anything having to do with air and wind. Fits him, since he likes nothing more than the sound of his own voice. But I think he was already chafing under that leash when your little pet came along.”
“And now Jagun Ghen has him?” said Gleed. “Why didn’t you tell me about this, Hweilan?”
“Because she hasn’t made up her mind about him yet.”
“What?” Gleed looked back and forth from Maaqua to Hweilan, who was scowling at the queen.
Maaqua chuckled. “Menduarthis has been chasing this one for quite some time now, and she hasn’t yet made up her mind about whether or not she wants to be caught.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Hweilan, but she could feel blood rushing to her face.
“Don’t I?” said Maaqua. “I wasn’t always this old and shriveled, girl. Ask Gleed. He remembers.”
Then her eyes narrowed. “You can tell your girl was brought up in a court. She keeps her eyes straight ahead and thinks of her duty. But all the while her heart is hoping the man’ll keep after her. Or the men, in this case.”
“What’s this?” said Gleed.
“Darric,” said Maaqua. “That’s his name, isn’t it? She’s gone through all this-haggling with Menduarthis, slicing up my Champion, feathering my guards to tower doors, and damned near killing me-to keep me from eating that boy’s heart. So which will it be, girl? The fetching eladrin who has probably bedded more women than you’ll ever meet, or the soft richling who has been mooning over you for years? You want my advice? Let Menduarthis teach you a few things, but don’t grow attached. He won’t. He’ll get what he wants, then grow bored. Have about with the eladrin, then go home to the richling. Soft men make better bedmates, because they’re so good at doing what you tell them.”
Hweilan stood there gawking a moment, all eyes on her. Maaqua’s smile widened even further.
Then Hweilan threw back her head and laughed-so long and hard that tears streamed down her face and her stomach hurt. Maaqua’s smile turned into a scowl.
“Oh, Gleed,” said Hweilan. “You were so right about her.”
“Eh?” said Maaqua.
Gleed nodded. “A mean old snake.”
But Hweilan could tell by the look in Gleed’s eyes that the old snake’s words had troubled him.
“Tell me I’m wrong, then,” said Maaqua.
“Maaqua,” said Hweilan, and Elret bristled at her familiar tone, “you could not be more wrong if you tried.”
Then Hweilan opened the portal and stood back for the hobgoblins to go through first. The four disciples carried Maaqua through the river and were about to step through the falls when Maaqua raised a hand, stopping them.
“Turn me,” she said.
They did, sidestepping in the knee-high water so that their queen could face Hweilan and Gleed on the bank.
“Gleed,” she said. “I suppose I owe you my thanks. You saved my life.”
Gleed smiled and bowed. “The gods will forgive me, I hope.”
The queen chuckled, but it had an ugly tone to it. “It is also good to know where you’ve been hiding.”
Gleed’s smile did not falter as he said, “Come here uninvited and I’ll pull down that rock you live in and bury you so deep even your pet demons won’t be able to find you.”
They held each other’s gazes a long moment, then the queen motioned for her servants to continue. They stepped through the falls and back into Faerun. Elret followed, glaring over her shoulder just before she stepped through.
Buureg stepped into the water, turned, bowed to Gleed, then stepped toward the waterfall.