The Last Threshold (Neverwinter #4)(49)

Arunika laughed at him. “I’ve already established that I know that you know.”

“Not that, devil.”

“I should kill you for torturing my imp,” Arunika remarked. “Not for the sake of the imp, of course, but because of the breach of protocol. Invidoo is my property, and so I demand recompense. Tell me your secret, twisted warlock.”

“I will,” Effron promised. “And you tell me of Barrabus.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“But what harm in telling me? Surely you don’t hold any loyalty to Barrabus the Gray, and certainly not to his companion, this drow ranger. Indeed, should Drizzt learn the truth of Arunika, he would chase you from the land.”

Her expression revealed her unpleasant surprise at that thinly veiled threat. “Then I should make sure I destroy anyone else who might betray that secret. Is that your point?”

Now Effron laughed, but it was an uncomfortable ploy.

“I would not tell him … anything,” the twisted warlock said. “Nor Barrabus and the other, Dahlia. You witnessed the fight on the bridge when Herzgo Alegni was driven from this land. Effron is no friend to those three, I assure you. But I have mentioned the truth of Arunika to others among my Netherese brethren, including several lords who would not take well your threats against me. Beware, succubus, else you tempt the wrath of Netheril.”

Arunika stared at him hard, and yet, even in that look, there remained something so very appealing about this creature.

“But there is no need for any of this,” Effron insisted. “We are not enemies, or should not be. Netheril will not return to Neverwinter. We have no reason to care, with the Thayan threat destroyed.”

“Netheril was here before there was a Thayan threat to Neverwinter,” Arunika reminded him.

“True enough,” Effron admitted. “Our work was in the forest, and indeed, we may return to that place, but with no designs on ruling the city. It is not our place. It brings unwanted attention. So there, that is my secret, offered in friendship.”

“And offered before you exacted your demand.”

“All I ask is for you to guide me along the proper road to find Barrabus and his companions,” Effron replied. “And why would you not? Should they return to Neverwinter, they’ll not befriend Arunika, and should they ever determine the truth of your identity, they will seek to destroy you. So what do I ask of you that will not benefit you?”

Arunika laughed again. “I do so enjoy the play of mortals,” she said. “With their foolish impatience as they scramble to make a legacy that will not last, no matter how many they kill.”

Effron started to respond to that confusing statement, but Arunika waved him to silence.

“There is a band of highwaymen along the road just a few days north of here. If you make yourself conspicuous enough, they will likely find you.”

“Would that be a good thing?” he asked after considering Arunika’s words, and considering why she might have spoken them.

Arunika smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “Find the highwaymen and you will learn much of Barrabus and his friends,” she said.

Effron thought of going back to the Shadowfell and letting Draygo Quick guide him to a more advantageous location back on Toril, but part of his mission, likely the most important part, was to learn the lay of the land around their prey.

So off he went. He had enough supplies for a tenday, at least. He had gone through almost half of those supplies before he came upon another person, a score of miles and more north of Neverwinter.

“Halt and be counted,” the woman demanded, stepping out into the snow-covered trail before him, two large men at her side.

“If you are a guard, pray tell from what town?” Effron replied innocently. Arunika’s words echoed in his thoughts. “I am not familiar with this region.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t be foolish enough to be traveling the roads alone,” the woman replied with a rather sinister grin. She nodded to the thugs flanking her and both began a steady advance.

Effron didn’t flinch, and even smiled, which had the two men, both much larger than he, glancing at each other.

“Then the only question that remains,” the small warlock remarked, “is whether I should sting you and chase you away, or simply kill you and be done with it.” He shrugged and let his useless arm swing weirdly behind him, using it to further press the idea that he wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

An arrow whipped out of the trees to the side of the road, speeding straight for the warlock, but Effron was, of course, magically defended against such attacks and his shield of magical energy deflected the arrow enough so that it whipped just a hair’s breadth from his face—and had he not instinctively turned aside, the missile would have likely taken a bit of his nose with it.

“The latter, I think,” he calmly stated.





“Port Llast has little to offer,” Dorwyllan told Drizzt and the others when he found them gearing up for the road.

“Ye’re here,” Ambergris replied dryly.

“Why thank you, good dwarf,” the grinning elf said with an exaggerated bow.

“Not what I’m meanin’!” Ambergris insisted, but she couldn’t keep the toothy smile wholly off her face against Dorwyllan’s clever retort.