Relentless (Generations) by R. A. Salvatore

Author:R. A. Salvatore [Salvatore, R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Harper Voyager
Published: 2020-07-28T00:00:00+00:00

Zaknafein hated the idea of returning to Menzoberranzan. Out alone in the tunnels, more than once was he tempted to just keep running the other way, to strike out and survive as best as he could in a place that was not under the sway of vile Lolth.

In his younger days, perhaps he would have tried, but now, in the end, Zak’s roundabout course had him moving inexorably toward Menzoberranzan.

Toward his son.

He entered the city quietly through one of the smaller side gates. These, too, were guarded, but no one asked questions of other dark elves entering. Zak kept his traveling cloak up high and could only hope that he wasn’t recognized. He didn’t want Malice to know he was back.

For that reason, he avoided the Oozing Myconid—Malice had eyes there often, he knew—and went straight to the Clawrift, moving down the concealed stair and in through the kobold tunnels until he at last arrived at Jarlaxle’s private quarters.

“At long last,” Jarlaxle greeted him, when Zak walked in. The mercenary leader was trying to play it casual, as if he was not overjoyed to see Zaknafein, and had been expecting him all along, but Zak noted the man’s body language, the eagerness pressing his shoulders forward, and understood that for one of the few times in his life, Jarlaxle’s posture had betrayed his control.

“Can you explain your delay?” Jarlaxle said. “I would never expect Zaknafein to tarry.”

Zak glanced at the other two drow in the room, Beniago and the always annoying Kimmuriel Oblodra.

“It is good to be back,” he said.

“You do not believe that,” Kimmuriel said, and Zak narrowed his eyes, warning the psionicist to stay out of his head, if he was in there. Zak had never met anyone who made him feel this uncomfortable, including Kimmuriel’s psionics-wielding family members and even the matrons of the city.

“It is good to have you back,” Jarlaxle replied, and Beniago chirped in with an assenting “Aye.”

Zaknafein focused on the Baenre lieutenant. “You thought I would die in that room.”

“I did, but I tried to help,” Beniago answered.

“I know.” He hadn’t recognized the voice clearly in the heat of battle, but he had been fairly certain that it was Beniago who had thrown the light bombs, which had likely saved his life.

“When Braelin returned, I was confident you would not be far behind,” Beniago said.

“Braelin?”

“The young scout you carried out of there. He returned to us a few days ago.”

Zak nodded and was glad.

“Promising young man,” Jarlaxle went on. “He was born to commoners, but I find him nobler—certainly more loyal!—than the nobles I know. I found him when he was young and saw something there, so I brought him in. You would know this, Zaknafein, had you bothered to spend more time . . .”

The rogue rambled on, and Zaknafein sighed. Jarlaxle was talking about nothing important not to convince Zaknafein of the worth of this Braelin person, but because he knew Zaknafein was agitated and anxious.

“Enough!” Zak said at length, because Jarlaxle wasn’t even beginning to slow in his endless tales.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.