Cards Reshuffled

In an emergency situation, you can push yourself into doing more than your body is really equipped to handle. It will work for a while, and it may well save your life. But sooner or later, the danger will pass, and so will that borrowed strength, leaving you even more vulnerable than before.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

The sun was hurting her eyes, burning against skin that seemed far paler than it should have been, despite the dirt that covered it. Once she finally felt her limbs beginning to obey her again, Zaerini slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, her head bent towards the ground to shield her face. She stared at her feet. They were covered with filth and grime, and they hurt from crossing the sharp rocks that had made up part of the building. She tried to focus on the second toe on her left foot, where there was a painful bleeding beneath the nail. Anything to distract her from what she didn’t want to think about at the moment. Anything. Her legs looked stick-thin inside the ragged pants she was wearing. The legs, too, were very white.

I wonder how long it is since I last saw the sun? Days? Weeks? Months? It could have been years, I suppose. I…lost track of time. The sun…I was so relieved when I first glimpsed the sun. It felt like years ago, though it really was no more than a few minutes. And during those minutes, everything had changed. Everything. Immy…she longed for the sun as well. Immy…I promised her. I promised her that I would get her out, that everything…that everything would be all right.

The half-elf clutched her knees with her arms, a low, almost inaudible moan emerging from between her lips. I promised her. She cried out for help, and I couldn’t help her.

A soft nose nudged her leg, and she met the bright green eyes of her familiar, and felt the cat’s reassuring presence inside her mind. Kitten, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, deep down. Don’t hurt yourself more than you’ve been hurt already.

I should have done something!

What? Attack the Hungry One yourself and get killed? You did what you could, and now you have to do the same. You can still help her.

Rini’s mouth set in a grim line, and anybody watching would have seen her golden eyes suddenly flash like fire. Yes. You’re right, of course. Whoever those people were, and wherever they took Immy, I will get her back. And I don’t care if I have to kill them all to do it.

That’s better. Now, get to your feet. You need feeding, and sleeping, and washing your fur. Right now you’re exhausted and almost ready to fall down.

The bard nodded, and slowly forced herself to her feet, wincing as every muscle in her body protested. Her eyes were starting to adapt to the sunlight now, and she was finally able to take a better look at the place where she had emerged from the terror of Irenicus’ dungeon, now that there was no longer an immediate threat to her life present.

There were broken stones and pillars all around, and now she noticed that they weren’t actually part of a single building. Rather, what had been disintegrated was one part of a vast structure, resembling a great amphitheatre. White marble formed it, and there were large gilded domes at regular intervals. On the ‘steps’ there seemed to be many doors, some of them probably dwellings, others shops. The shops were everywhere, anything from small stands to elegant establishments, and people were flocking around them like flies around a honey pot. In just the area closest to her Rini could see food stalls, with lovely smells of sweets, of exotic spices and fried meat, that practically made her drool openly. There was a weapon salesman offering what seemed to be fairly unremarkable swords, a toy maker’s, a butcher’s shop, a jeweler and a carpet salesman. Behind them she could glimpse a sea of more shops, shops as far as her eyes could see. Probably one could buy anything from apples to zebras here, assuming one had the money to pay for them.

People were everywhere around, soldiers, beggars, children, richly dressed merchants and nobles. Arguing, haggling, bartering, and the sound of it all was practically deafening. The only ones who seemed otherwise preoccupied were the people who had formed into a crowd close by her, pointing and staring at the broken part of the amphitheatre.

Not too far off there was a structure that deviated a little from the rest of the surroundings. It was a large tent, striped in orange and white, and in front of it there were cages containing different wild animals. She thought she could make out a moose, as well as a large snake and a pair of tigers. A circus, I guess. Feels so strange to think of people amusing themselves right on top of…what lies below this place. Laughing. Clapping hands. Being happy.

Her friends had also broken free of the stunning spell that had incapacitated them by this time, and they came stumbling towards her, their gait as unsteady as hers. Minsc had a bleeding wound across his scalp where a falling stone had struck him, and he was covered with dust, but he was holding the Sword of Chaos steadily and didn’t seem any more disoriented than usual. “This is terrible!” he said, hurrying to steady Rini as the half-elf tripped over a rock with less than her usual grace. “The evil wizard, the murderer of fair Dynaheir flees from our righteous vengeance, taking little Imoen with him, and poor Boo was almost squashed by a most unkind and hard rock, like the one that gave Minsc his old head wound!” A petulant squeak sounded from his shoulder where the hamster perched. “We must find this evil wizard, little Rini! We must find him and stomp him flat as a pancake with the boots of justice, and then smear him with the jam of chastisement! All that is goodness cries out for this, even little Boo, though he cannot cry out quite so loudly.”

Jaheira’s face might as well have been set in stone, and her eyes were fixed upon the broken part of the amphitheatre, as if they were trying to penetrate to the room where Khalid still lay. “It is strange…” she said. “He was fighting, seemingly prepared to fight to the death. I think he might well have won, and then he decides to give himself up. And why insist that Imoen be taken along with him?” The druid’s eyes softened a little as she turned to her fellow half-elf. “I know you want to free her at once. I would prefer that as well, as well as to…as well as to avenge those fallen. But I think it would be dangerous to rush off blindly. We must first learn more about who our foe is, and we must be properly prepared.”

Yoshimo nodded approvingly, a hint of appreciation on his calm face. “You are right in this, druid. Preparation is the key to success. Against a powerful foe, it is a necessity, one that might mean the difference between life and death.”

Zaerini nodded. “I…suppose you’re both right.”

“Child, I know I am right,” Jaheira snorted. “What we all need, especially you, is food, rest and a good wash, not necessarily in that order. Now move your feet and let us find ourselves an inn, unless you were planning to sleep in the street.”

The bard gave a weak smile. “You know, you’re starting to sound exactly like Softy. Want to be my second familiar?”

Afterwards, Rini didn’t remember much about the next half hour. Yoshimo remarked that they were in the city of Athkatla, on the coast of Amn, the very city from which he had been abducted. Jaheira verified this, stating only that she had been here long ago, and then said no more on the subject. Minsc said that he didn’t care much where they were, as long as there were evil butts to be kicked, and some nuts to make sure that poor, starving Boo could be made happy again.

As for Zaerini, she was exhausted, body and soul. Events were catching up on her. The long imprisonment, the torture, the terror. Fleeing, running for her life through the dark tunnels, not knowing whether or not she would be recaptured or killed. Then escaping, only to have Imoen snatched away before her very eyes. It was too much, and now that there was finally time to stand still and think about things she realized just how miserable she was. In a partial daze, she allowed her friends to pull her along, catching vague glimpses of people gaping and occasionally sniggering at the sight of their scarecrow-like forms, then dissipating before Jaheira’s fiercest scowl.

Now she was inside, where it was dark and cool, and as if from a great distance she could hear Jaheira speaking with some woman, presumably an innkeeper who was making compassionate noises. The words might as well have been the chirpings of birds or the squeaks of mice, their meaning eluded her. Trying to comprehend them was like trying to catch moonlight with her hand.

She was walking up a flight of stairs, steep and winding, her head spinning as she walked. Then she was inside a room, and Jaheira was sitting her down on something. Soft beneath her. A bed, then. Somebody was pulling her filthy clothes off. No…no…don’t…please don’t…

Kitten, it’s all right! Softpaws comforted her. The cat had curled up on her lap, and her hand was automatically stroking the soft fur, her motions mechanical. It’s only Jaheira.

The words didn’t mean anything, but if the cat was calm, then it was all right. She allowed herself to be fussed over, hoping that it would pass soon.

The druid was muttering angrily to herself, then actually cursing at the sight of jutting ribs and still visible scars. Rini stared numbly at the druid, distantly wondering what the other woman was so upset about. She couldn’t seem to remember. In fact, she found it hard to remember anything at all.

Time passed. She was being washed, a washcloth gently applied to wipe off at least most of the filth and blood that covered her. It felt good, so good. She allowed herself to relax slightly, sighing as a voice murmured comfort at her.

More time passed. She was in bed by now, her eyelids growing heavy. She couldn’t keep them up any longer, and the sheets and the pillow made her feel like she was floating on a warm cloud. How long since she had last slept in a bed? Can’t remember that either. Only the…cage.

She must have made some sort of noise at that thought, for now a hand was pulling the sheets up, tucking her in, then smoothing her hair back. “Sleep, child,” a voice said next to her. “I am right here.”

It made her feel safe. There would be dangers enough to deal with later, but for now, and for the first time in a long while, she was safe. Mother? No…not mother. Never knew my mother. “Jaheira?” Rini whispered, not opening her eyes. “That you?”

“Yes, child,” the druid’s voice answered. “Now go to sleep.”

And Zaerini did.

Strangely enough, the dream she remembered afterwards wasn’t one of the ones about Imoen. Nor was it any of the ones about Irenicus, or about Khalid. No, by some small mercy from the Powers That Be, the dream that remained was a quite different one.

She was in her cat shape, the one that the Bhaal essence allowed her to shift into. She was curled up in front of a crackling fire, her fur as bright a red as the flames, and she was half-asleep, her eyes mere slits as they gazed into the fire.

Suddenly, there was a hand on her fur, skillfully stroking her along the back. It moved steadily from the base of her neck to her tail, again and again, creating a wonderful sensation of her entire body rippling and growing hotter. Occasionally, the hand would pause to rub behind her ears, or beneath her chin. She was purring, purring so loudly that it ought to be possible to hear it on the other side of the street, and she arched her back a little to grant the hand better access, batting at it with her paw when she didn’t think it was moving swiftly enough.

Then, the sensation changed. She was still being stroked, from shoulders to hips, and the wonderful warm feeling was still there, as if she was glowing. Something was different, but she didn’t care, she was in too much pleasure. Now the teasing fingers were paying particular attention to her lightly pointed ears, now to her throat, now to her…front.

Still purring, she twisted around. The pleasure was slowly setting her entire body on fire, radiating out from a few spots that felt so hot it almost hurt. Gasping for air she opened her eyes to stair into a pair of dark ones very close to her face. She was no longer in cat shape, she idly noticed, as long fingers idly entwined themselves in her red hair, even as she reclined on the man’s lap. A dark face, achingly familiar, leaned in over her, smiling beneath the cowl of a blood red robe. Then he spoke, and the accented voice sent little shivers of joy down her back.

“Hellkitten,” he said. “Don’t keep me waiting.”