"Say nothing of our concerns to Rai-guy and Kimmuriel," Entreri bade her. "They are fearful enough, and frightened creatures, even drow, can make serious errors. You and I will watch from afar-perhaps there is a way out of this if it comes to an internal war."
Sharlotta nodded, and rightly took Entreri's tone as a dismissal. She rose, nodded again, and moved out of the room.
Entreri didn't believe that nod for a moment. He knew the woman would likely go running right to Rai-guy and Kimmuriel, attempting to bend this conversation her way. But that was the point of it all, was it not? Entreri had just forced Sharlotta's hand, forced her to show her true alliances in this ever-widening web of intrigue. Certainly his last claim, that there might be a way out for the two of them, would ring hollow to Sharlotta, who knew him well, and knew well that he would never bother to take her along with him on any escape from Bregan D'aerthe. He'd put a dagger in her back as surely as he had killed any previous supposed partners, from Tallan Belmer to Rassiter the wererat. Sharlotta knew that, and Entreri knew she knew it.
It did occur to the assassin that perhaps Sharlotta, Rai-guy, and Kimmuriel were correct in their apparent assessment that Crenshinibon was having unfavorable influences on Jarlaxle, that the artifact was leading the cunning mercenary in a direction that could spell doom for Bregan D'aerthe's surface ambitions. That hardly mattered to Entreri, of course, who wasn't sure the retreat of the dark elves back to Menzoberranzan would be such a bad thing. What was more important, to Entreri's thinking, were the dynamics of his relationship with the principles of the mercenary band. Rai-guy and Kimmuriel were notorious racists and hated him as they hated anyone who was not drow-more, even, because Entreri's skill and survival instincts threatened them profoundly. Without Jarlaxle's protection, it wasn't hard for Artemis Entreri to envision his fate. While he felt somewhat bolstered by his acquisition of Charon's Claw, the bane of wizards, he hardly thought it evened the odds in any battle he might find with the duo of the drow wizard-cleric and psionicist. If those two wound up in command of Bregan D'aerthe, with over a hundred drow warriors at their immediate disposal…
Entreri didn't like the odds at all.
He knew, without doubt, that Jarlaxle's fall would almost immediately precede his own.
Kimmuriel walked along the tunnels beneath Dallabad with some measure of trepidation. This was a haszakkin, after all, an illithid-unpredictable and deadly. Still, the drow had come alone, had deceived Rai-guy that he might do so.
There were some things that psionicists alone could understand and appreciate.
Around a sudden bend in the tunnel, Kimmuriel came upon the bulbous-headed creature, sitting calmly on a rock against the back end of an alcove. Yharaskrik's eyes were closed, but he was awake, Kimmuriel knew, for he could feel the mental energy beaming out from the creature.
I chose well in siding with Bregan D'aerthe, it would seem, the illithid telepathically remarked. There was never any doubt.
The drow are stronger than the humans, Kimmuriel agreed, using the illithid's telepathic link to impart his exact thoughts.
Stronger than these humans, Yharaskrik corrected.
Kimmuriel bowed, figuring to let the matter drop there, but Yharaskrik had more to discuss.
Stronger than Kohrin Soulez, the illithid went on. Crippled, he was, by his obsession with a particular magical item.
That brought some understanding to Kimmuriel, some logical connection between the mind flayer and the pitiful gang of Dallabad Oasis. Why would a creature as great as Yharaskrik waste its time with such inferior beings, after all?
You were sent to observe the powerful sword and the gauntlet, he reasoned.
We wish to understand that which can sometimes defeat our attacks, Yharaskrik freely admitted. Yet neither item is without limitations. Neither is as powerful as Kohrin Soulez believed, or your attack would never have succeeded.
We have discerned as much, Kimmuriel agreed.
My time with Kohrin Soulez was nearing its end, said Yharaskrik, a clear inference that the illithid- creatures known as among the most meticulous of all in the multiverse- believed that it had learned every secret of the sword and gauntlet.
The human, Artemis Entreri, confiscated both the gauntlet and Charon's Claw, the drow psionicist explained.
That was his intent, of course, the illithid replied. He fears you and wisely so. You are strong in will, Kimmuriel of House Oblodra.
The drow bowed again.
Respect the sword named Charon's Claw, and even more so the gauntlet the human now wears on his hand. With these, he can turn your powers back against you if you are not careful.
Kimmuriel imparted his assurances that Artemis Entreri and his dangerous new weapon would be closely watched. Are your days of watching the paired items now ended? he asked as he finished.
Perhaps, Yharaskrik answered.
Or perhaps Bregan D'aerthe could find a place suited to your special talents, Kimmuriel offered. He didn't think it would be hard to persuade Jarlaxle of such an arrangement. Dark elves often allied with illithids in the Underdark.
Yharaskrik's pause was telling to the perceptive and intelligent drow. "You have a better offer?" Kimmuriel asked aloud, and with a chuckle.
Better it would be if I remained to the side of events, unknown to Bregan D'aerthe other than to Kimmuriel Oblodra, Yharaskrik answered in all seriousness.
The response at first confused Kimmuriel and made him think that the illithid feared that Bregan D'aerthe would side with Entreri and Charon's Claw if any such conflict arose between Yharaskrik and Entreri, but before he could begin to offer his assurances against that, the illithid imparted a clear image to him, one of a crystalline tower shining in the sun above the palm trees of Dallabad Oasis.
The towers?" Kimmuriel asked aloud. They are just manifestations of Crenshinibon."
Crenshinibon. The word came to Kimmuriel with a sense of urgency and great importance.
It is an artifact, the drow telepathically explained. A new toy for Jarlaxle's collection.
Not so, came Yharaskrik's response. Much more than that, I fear, as should you.
Kimmuriel narrowed his red-glowing eyes, focusing carefully on Yharaskrik's thoughts, which he expected might confirm the fears he and Rai-guy had long been discussing.
Weave into the thoughts of Jarlaxle, I cannot, the illithid went on. He wears a protective item.
The eye patch, Kimmuriel silently replied. It denies entrance to his mind by wizard, priest, or psionicist.
But such a simple tool cannot defeat the encroachment of Crenshinibon, Yharaskrik explained.
How do you know of the artifact?
Crenshinibon is no mystery to my people, for it is an ancient item indeed, and one that has crossed the trails of the illithids on many occasions, Yharaskrik admitted. Indeed, Crenshinibon, the Crystal Shard, despises us, for we alone are quite beyond its tempting reach. We alone as a great race are possessed of the mental discipline necessary to prevent the Crystal Shard from its greatest desires of absolute control. You, too, Kimmuriel, can step beyond the orb of Crenshinibon's influence and easily.
The drow took a long moment to contemplate the implications of that claim, but naturally, he quickly came to the conclusion that Yharaskrik was relating that psionics alone might fend the intrusions of the Crystal Shard, since Jarlaxle's potent eye patch was based in wizardly magic and not the potent powers of the mind.
Crenshinibon's primary attack is upon the ego, the illithid explained. It collects slaves with promises of greatness and riches.
Not unlike the drow, Kimmuriel related, thinking of the tactics Bregan D'aerthe had used on Morik.
Yharaskrik laughed a gurgling, bubbly sound. The more ambitious the wielder, the easier he will be controlled.