Chaos and Entropy

Author’s Note: And the plot thickens, without, alas, any smut.

Chapter 6…A Walking Nightmare

I’m not sure how I got home. I think I floated. Once I entered the dark of the sewers, I pulled invisibility around me like an old familiar cloak. The spell casting had never been so easy. I wafted past the outlaws’ camp and couldn’t even be bothered to set up any of the pranks I’d planned for them, which now seemed undeservedly vicious.

I left my dirty boots inside the door and let the spell fade. I stared as the magic actually dripped from my fingers, like black water, glistening for a second and then disappearing, reabsorbed into the Weave. I held up my hands and smiled.

I felt Mekrath’s movements in the Weave a moment before he stalked into the hall. I had thought the way the Weave clung to Haer’Dalis was beautiful but it danced around Mekrath and caressed him like a lover. I stared open-mouthed. Truly, I had never seen him before.

“Where have you been?” He sounded irate for some reason.

“Out.” I came closer, close enough to actually touch the slight distortions in the Weave caused by the wizard’s power. I dabbed my fingers through the bright webbing that surrounded him. “So pretty,” I murmured.

“What in the Nine Hells is the matter with you?”

Now, really. How could one so blessed by Mystra and Corellon Larethian be so cranky? I gave him a sunny smile to cheer him up but his scowl darkened. How strange.

“Are you drunk?”

“Am I drunk?” I caroled back. “Why, no, I am not drunk. But what a lovely idea! Shall I fetch us some wine?”

He strode forward, grabbed my chin and turned my face toward the mage light on the wall. I winced and blinked.

“Your eyes look like black pits. What have you been doing?”

“Your eyes are pulsing.” I gave him another smile. “But they are very nice eyes. Pretty green eyes. Green and bright like the Weave. Not all dark and mysterious like Haer’Dalis.”

He sniffed my hair. I took the opportunity to nuzzle my face against his shoulder. He gave me a push, not hard, but enough to back me into the wall.

“You reek of black lotus.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. How did that happen?” I giggled. “You smell good though.”

“Idiot! Gah! What am I going to do with you? Every one of my potions ruined while you smoked lotus with that cursed tiefling! I should hang you up by your thumbs.”

“You had me buy you lotus yesterday, Master Hypocrite.”

“That was for potion making, not for smoking. That tiefling put you up to this, didn’t he? I knew I should have left him petrified. Tieflings are nothing but trouble.”

“He’s really very nice,” I said but my soothing words didn’t seem to calm him down at all.

“‘He’s really very nice.’” Goodness, he was mocking me. “Oh, get that fatuous expression off your face. I can smell what else you were doing, you fool. Don’t you have any more sense than to get involved with an actor?”

“You did it too.”

“That was different. Besides, I’m not some fool girl without a brain in her head. And another thing—just what did you do to my imps? They tore the workroom apart. And then they had the gall to hide. From me!”

“Oh dear.”

“Gah!”

“Please don’t harvest them for spell components. I kind of promised them you wouldn’t.”

“You promised…you let them think I’d…gah! You’d better hope I don’t harvest you for spell components, starting with your thick skull.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Mekkie.”

“Mekkie?! That does it. I’m sending you to Corneil for another dose of discipline. He has a riding crop, you know. He’s practically soiling himself for a chance to use it.”

I could visualize exactly what would happen. Corneil would sense Mekrath’s anger; he would know that he wanted me punished. Humiliated, even. This time, he wouldn’t just flip my skirts up and give me a strapping. No, he’d make me strip. He’d watch with those cold, angry eyes. And then he’d bind me. Where? To the bed posts, maybe. Would he spread-eagle me? Yes, I rather thought he would.

A shiver ran through me. He’d cover my eyes. Yes, he wouldn’t want me to see his reaction or to anticipate what was coming. But first, he’d show me the whip. Yes, he’d let me see it, feel it. Maybe he would rub it against my body. The leather would be cold, cruel. Just like him.

Like that other mage who took me. Bound me and blinded me and then…

My shiver turned into a deep shudder.

“What’s the matter with you, girl? Gods, are you crying? Can’t you recognize a jest when you hear one?”

“Don’t let him have me.”

“You…you’re trembling! You can’t seriously be afraid of that old fool, Corneil? You could destroy him with one spell, you idiot. Why do you think the Cowled Wizards have him filing papers like a clerk? He barely has enough power to light a lamp.”

“Not him,” I gasped. “The other one. Don’t let him have me.”

“What other one? This is the lotus talking, isn’t it?”

I hadn’t known I was crying until I heard my own sobbing gasp. I couldn’t get enough air. Mekrath grabbed my shoulders and gave me a shake.

“How much of that foul weed did you smoke? Don’t you know it gives you waking dreams? Nightmares, often as not, when you have magic in your blood. Who could you possibly be so afraid of?”

Was this a dream? It didn’t feel like one. I felt like all the strength, all the joy had run out of me, like blood from a mortal wound.

“J…J…Jon. Irenicus.”

Mekrath went very still.

“Ah,” he said at last. “Run afoul of that one, have you?”

I couldn’t speak. I blinked and then nodded.

“Well. Well, now.” He made a restless move and for a moment I thought he was going to hold me. That would have been welcome. Instead, he took my arm and led me into the sitting room. He filled two glasses from the decanter on the table against the back wall. It was whiskey he gave me, not wine. I don’t like whiskey but I took a big gulp anyway.

“Irenicus is… a walking nightmare.” With all the anger gone, his voice sounded quite serious. “I’m afraid of him myself.”

I stared at my glass and took another drink. Nasty stuff, but as it burned its way down my throat, I felt less tearful and shaky.

“Sit down,” he said. He half pushed me into a chair and took a seat across from me. “You’d best tell me what this is all about.”

I tucked my feet up under me and wrapped my arms around my knees. The lights still seemed too bright. My head hurt.

“You, ah, you know who I am, right?” Mekrath knew I was a child of Bhaal but we had never discussed much of my history. Most people assume I’m lying about Baldur’s Gate anyway, if I bring it up. I wish I was.

“I know you are an idiot.” I gave him a look. “Yes, yes, I knew you were one of those id—those adventurers that made such a name for themselves up north. I like my privacy but I do hear the odd scrap of news, you know.”

“Yes, well…”

“I thought you’d stumbled into that mess at the Promenade by accident. You didn’t go after Irenicus, did you? Don’t you think that’s taking heroic idiocy a bit too far? I’d rather face a dragon in his lair.” He shuddered. “A whole flight of dragons.”

“No, I didn’t go after him. I’d never heard of him. He hunted me.”

For a second Mekrath’s face went blank; then his mouth clamped shut and his eyelids shuttered his thoughts.

“Did he?”

I nodded. His bland look didn’t fool me. There was some calculation going on in his head but he gave a little hand wave and said, “Go on.”

“He held us underground. Under Waukeen’s Promenade, as it happened, but at the time I didn’t even know we were in Amn. He took us from outside Baldur’s Gate.”

“Us?”

“You met Jaheira and Minsc at the Copper Coronet.” When I’d told Jaheira I’d be staying with Mekrath awhile, she had insisted upon a meeting. I didn’t get the impression that either of them was overly impressed with each other. “He killed Jaheira’s husband and the Rashemi witch who gave me some of my early training. The rest of us escaped during the Thieves Guild attack on his compound and that’s when the Cowled Wizards took my friend, Imoen. And him.”

“So you don’t have to worry about Irenicus anymore.”

“No. Now I have to worry about Imoen.” And then I clamped my own mouth shut. Mekrath may not be a Cowled Wizard but he knew most of them. I should have guessed he’d be aware of Irenicus; wizards formed a tight community here. He didn’t need to know that I was raising gold to break her out of whatever prison they were keeping her in.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said but he sounded uneasy.

Yeah, right. She’d be just fine and dandy in the care of those damned Cowls, when every single one I’d met so far had been greedy, cruel, incompetent, or some combination of the three.

“Tell me of Irenicus. What was his compound like?” Mekrath leaned forward, eyes avid. “Is it true that…”

I gave him a hard stare. I guess he couldn’t help being curious but neither could I help being pissed about it. I stood up.

“I’m going to bed.”

xxx

In the morning, surprise, surprise, I got the lovely task of cleaning out the wrecked workroom. Mekrath had not exaggerated the mess. Potions had boiled over or caught fire. At least one appeared to have exploded, spewing brown goo over the walls and ceiling. Perhaps in an attempt to cover up this first disaster with a worse one, the imps had smashed most of the bottles and jars in his stillroom. All Mekrath’s carefully garnered ingredients were strewn around the workroom. No wonder he’d been so angry.

The imps squealed and flashed out of sight before I could enlist them as helpers.

Damn.

It did not help that I was feeling truly dreadful. My head was…well, it was about the same state as the workroom. Mekrath heartlessly refused to give me a healing potion, the cur. Whatever faint flash of sympathy he’d felt last night was gone now. He told me, with great smugness, that pain was a better teacher than he was, or at least one I was more likely to listen to.

By the time I’d hauled away the last of the debris and thrown it out into the sewers, my back was aching as much as my head. I trudged into Mekrath’s tiny kitchen to make myself some tea. No sooner did I sink down to the table with the mug in my hands but Mekrath flitted in, looking disgustingly self-satisfied.

“Ah, Minette, here you are. You will be happy to learn that I have finished my list.”

What list? I was supposed to ask but I didn’t want to know. I gave him a sullen look. He sat across from me and, with a flourish, slid a square of parchment across the table. For a moment, I refused to look at it. Then I sighed and picked it up. The page was filled with Mekrath’s small, neat writing. I didn’t feel like squinting to make it out. I pushed it back at him.

“Your damages,” he said smugly.

“Damages, huh?” I sighed again. “I suppose you expect me to go shopping for you again.”

“I do indeed. And I expect you to purchase everything on that list out of your own purse.”

“What!” I snatched up the list. Some of the items were rare; some would no doubt have to be custom ordered. We were talking thousands of gold here. I planted my elbows on the table and glared.

“Sorry,” I said. “I can’t afford all this.”

“You should have thought about that before you chose to carouse with the tiefling instead of attending to your duties.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then shut it again. If he knew I’d visited the tieflings to discuss the planar gem, he would not be pleased.

Besides, technically I supposed I had been carousing. And what a time I’d had. I smirked to myself. Mekrath’s eyes narrowed. He then proceeded to tear a strip off my hide, telling me if I thought I could waltz into his home and wreck the place with impunity, I had no more brains than one of his imps. It was my responsibility to replace my damages and if I didn’t have the gold, by Corellon’s blade, I’d better go hustle for it. And if that meant I had to peddle my ass down at the Docks, then I’d best get moving.

There may have been some justice in his complaints but he had no call shouting them at me when I felt so dreadful. I didn’t feel up to screaming back at him. So I gave him a withering look and, pointedly leaving his damned list on the table, stalked out of the room.

My mind was a blank. I didn’t know what to do but I knew I couldn’t do it here. So I grabbed my cloak and my sword belt and left.

I ended up in the guild house I’d taken over when I’d killed Mae’Var. There was no good news waiting for me there, alas, only more problems. I settled some petty bickering and then, cursing with every step, trudged to the prison to bail out one of my thieves. The bribes I had to lay out emptied my house coffers. Then I had to listen to her whined excuses. I eyed my fumble-fingered thief with displeasure and wondered if a stint on the city’s work gangs would have helped her more than the lecture I felt obliged to deliver.

My own voice depressed me greatly. Oh, gods smite me, I sounded like an echo of Mekrath.

Just when I thought I was through for the day, one of our child messengers galloped in and panted that Renal Bloodscalp wanted to see me. Damning him in my thoughts, I dragged myself across the district to the unobtrusive house where Renal held court.

How had I ever let him talk me into running Mae’Var’s house for him? Easy coin, he’d told me when I’d initially refused his offer. He knew I had to raise Gaelan’s fee and he’d assured me this was the quickest path to do so. New and friendless in Athkatla, I’d been desperate enough to believe him. But instead the guild had eaten up my time and given nothing in return. Sure, the coin flowed into our hands—and flowed right out again in the form of bribes, expenses, and the house cut I had to pay Renal whether I made a profit or not.

Renal gave me a genial smile when I was ushered into his office but his eyes were cold. His eyes were always cold, I suspected, to match the cold dead soul inside. I’ve been around assassins; I knew the look. At a gesture, the three guild members who had been sitting at the table quietly left. Renal’s bodyguard remained, a lean boy with the unlined face of a teenager and the moves of a wild beast. Rumor had it he was a shape-changer and liked to kill with his hands and teeth. I didn’t want to confirm that with personal experience. He lounged in a chair near the door. His face looked bored but his eyes shifted with alertness.

“You sent for me, sir?” I asked after the silence had stretched out too long. Renal tented his fingers and leaned back in his chair. He was playing games and I felt my pulse speed up as I fell right into them. What had I done? What hadn’t I done?

And then I knew. Oh, hells. The creases by his mouth deepened as he took in my horrified realization.

“By some oversight, your payment is overdue, Minette.”

“I…I’m sorry. I lost track of the date.”

“I did not call you here for an apology.”

Gods, what was I going to do?

“I…sir, I need an extension.”

“An extension?” His tone was wondering, as if the word was a new one to him. “My dear Minette, did you take me for a money lender?”

The bodyguard snickered. We both ignored him. I stood in silence a moment. I didn’t bother to offer excuses; I had a fair idea how he’d react to them. Where was I going to get the coin? There was only one option I could think of—take it from the gold I was saving for Imoen’s rescue. I had sworn to Jaheira, when I put it into her keeping, that I would not do so for any reason. And the chances were good that she’d hold me to my promise, particularly when she heard what I needed it for. She wasn’t too happy with me as it was.

“This guild has little place for the incompetent or the overly fastidious,” Renal said.
He was right. Mae’Var’s main profit, I had learned too late, had come from slaving and murder. I’d been too ‘fastidious’ to step into his bloody boots and it had cost me.

Renal let me stew there for a moment, standing in front of him like an errant schoolgirl.

“However,” he said. “I have been offered a contract that you are in a unique position to execute.” I raised my eyebrows enquiringly, like a good little hireling, but that word ‘execute’ made me uneasy. Renal tended to speak precisely, I’d noticed. “A simple burglary,” he said as if he’d been reading my thoughts. “The fee for retrieving the item in question would suffice to meet your quota for this ten-day.”

“And what are my unique qualifications?”

“The item belongs to a mage,” he said. “With your talents, you should be able to penetrate his defenses where the rest of us cannot.” His thin lips stretched in a thin smile. “But in your case, the task is even simpler.”

And just why was that? With a sinking feeling, I asked, “The name of the mark?”

“Mekrath Ceithian. He has a planar gem in his possession. You are to steal it for me.”