“Then you will have to wait until my business is finished,” the stubborn elf said sternly. “If I live to return.”
“Remarkable intelligence in most matters,” the old wizard dryly clarified.
Le'lorinel snickered and took no offense.
“This group of friends surrounding Drizzt has earned quite a reputation,” Mahskevic stated.
“I have no desire to fight Bruenor Battlehammer, or Catti-brie, or anyone else other than Drizzt Do'Urden,” said the elf. “Though perhaps there would be a measure of justice in killing Drizzt's friends.”
Mahskevic gave a great growl and slammed Talasay's tome shut, then shoved back from the desk and stood tall, staring down hard at the elf. “And that would be an unconscionable act by every measure of the word,” he scolded. “Is your bitterness and hatred toward this dark elf so great that you would take innocent life to satisfy it?”
Le'lorinel stared at him coldly, lips very thin.
“If it is, then I beg you to reconsider your course even more seriously,” the wizard added. “You claim righteousness on your side in this inexplicable pursuit of yours, and yet nothing— nothing I say—would justify such unrelated murder! Do you hear me, boy? Do my words sink through that stubborn wall of hatred for Drizzt Do'Urden that you have, for some unexplained reason, erected?”
“I was not serious in my remark concerning the woman or the dwarf,” Le'lorinel admitted, and the elf visibly relaxed, features softening, eyes glancing downward.
“Can you not find a more constructive pursuit?” Mahskevic asked sincerely. “You are more a prisoner of your hatred for Drizzt than the dark elf could ever be.”
“I am a prisoner because I know the truth,” Le'lorinel agreed in that melodic alto voice. “And to hear tales of his heroism, even this far from Mithral Hall or Ten-Towns stabs profoundly at my heart.”
“You do not believe in redemption?”
“Not for Drizzt, not for any dark elf.”
“An uncompromising attitude,” Mahskevic remarked, stroking a hand knowingly over his fluffy beard. “And one that you will likely one day regret.”
“Perhaps I already regret that I know the truth,” the elf replied. “Better to be ignorant, to sing bard songs of Drizzt the hero.”
“Sarcasm is not becoming.”
“Honesty is oft painful.”
Mahskevic started to respond but just threw up his hands and gave a defeated laugh and a great shake of his shaggy head.
“Enough,” he said. “Enough. This is a circular road we have ridden far too often. You know that I do not approve.”
“Noted,” the uncompromising Le'lorinel said. “And dismissed.”
“Perhaps I was wrong,” Mahskevic mused aloud. “Perhaps you do not have the qualities necessary to serve as an appropriate apprentice.”
If his words were meant to wound Le'lorinel, they seemed to fail badly, for the elf merely turned around and calmly walked out of the room.
Mahskevic gave a great sigh and dropped his palms that he could lean on his desk. He had come to like Le'lorinel over the years, had come to think of the elf as an apprentice, even as a son, but he found this self-destructive single-mindedness disconcerting and disheartening, a shattering reality against his hopes and wishes.
Mahskevic had also spent more than a little effort in learning about this rogue drow that so possessed the elf's soul, and while information concerning Drizzt was scarce in these parts far to the east of Silverymoon, everything the wizard had heard marked the unusual dark elf as an honorable and decent sort. He wondered, then, if he should even allow Le'lorinel to begin this hunt, wondered if he would then be morally compromised through his inaction against what seemed a grave injustice.
He was still wondering that very thing the next morning, when Le'lorinel found him in his little spice garden on the small balcony halfway up his gray stone tower.
“You are versed in teleportation,” the elf explained. “It will be an expensive spell for me to purchase, I presume, since you do not approve of my destination, but I am willing to work another two tendays, from before dawn to after dusk, in exchange for a magical journey to Luskan, on the Sword Coast.”
Mahskevic didn't even look up from his spice plants, though he did stop his weeding long enough to consider the offer. “I do not approve, indeed,” he said quietly. “Once again I beseech you to abandon this folly.”
“And once again I tell you that it is none of your affair,” the elf retorted. “Help me if you will. If not, I suspect I will easily enough find a wizard in Silverymoon who is willing to sell a simple teleport.”
Mahskevic stood straight, even put his hand on the back of his hip for support and arched his back, stretching out the kinks. Then he turned, deliberately, and put an imposing glare over the confident elf.
“Will you indeed?” the wizard asked, his glare going to the elf s hand, to the onyx ring he had sold to Le'lorinel and into which he had placed the desired magical spells.
Le'lorinel had little trouble in following his gaze to discern the item that held his attention.
“And you will have enough coin, I expect,” the wizard remarked. “For I have changed my mind concerning the ring I created and will buy it back.”
Le'lorinel smiled. “There is not enough gold in all the world.”
“Give it over,” Mahskevic said, holding out his hand. “I will return your payment.”
Le'lorinel turned around and walked off the balcony, moving right to the stairs and heading down.
An angry Mahskevic caught up just outside the tower.
“This is foolishness!” he declared, rushing around and blocking the smaller elf s progress. “You are consumed by a vengeance that goes beyond all reason and beyond all morality!”
“Morality?” Le'lorinel echoed incredulously. “Because I see a drow elf for what he truly is? Because I know the truth of Drizzt Do'Urden and will not suffer his glowing reputation? You are wise in many things, old wizard, and I am better for having tutored under you these years, but of this quest I have undertaken, you know nothing.”
“I know you are likely to get yourself killed.”
Le'lorinel shrugged, not disagreeing. “And if I abandon this, then I am already dead.”
Mahskevic gave a shout and shook his head vigorously. “Insanity!” he cried. “This is naught but insanity. And I'll not have it!”
“And you can not stop it,” said Le'lorinel, and the elf started around the old man, but Mahskevic was quick to shift, again blocking the way.
“Do not underestimate—” Mahskevic started to say, but he stopped short, the tip of a dagger suddenly pressing against his throat.
“Take your own advice,” Le'lorinel threatened. “What spells have you prepared this day? Battle spells? Not likely, I know, and even if you have a couple in your present repertoire, do you believe you will ever get the chance to cast them? Think hard, wizard. A few seconds is a long time.”
“Le'lorinel,” Mahskevic said as calmly as he could muster.
“It is only because of our friendship that I will put my weapons aside,” the elf said quietly, and Mahskevic breathed more easily as the dagger went away. “I had hoped you would help me on my way, but I knew that as the time drew near, your efforts to aid me would diminish. And so I forgive you your abandonment, but be warned, I will not tolerate interference from anybody. Too long have I waited, have I prepared, and now the day is upon me. Wish me well, for our years together, if for nothing else.”
Mahskevic considered it for a while, then grimly nodded. “I do wish you well,” he said. “I pray you will find a greater truth in your heart than this and a greater road to travel than one of blind hatred.”
Le'lorinel just walked away.
“He is beyond reason,” came a familiar voice behind Mahskevic a few moments later, with the wizard watching the empty road where Le'lorinel had already gone out of sight. Mahskevic turned to see Tunevec standing there, quite at ease.
“I had hoped to dissuade him, as well,” Tunevec explained. “I believed the three of us could have carved out quite an existence here.”.