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[Lazybones]

Chapter 28


The mood in the Halfmoon Inn was muted, tense, anticipatory. It was an echo of the feeling that suffused the entire Seven-Pillared Hall of late.

Word had spread quickly of what had transpired at the Chamber of Eyes, and many of the Halfmoons’ regular patrons had quietly departed, avoiding the place for now until the potential for trouble that followed the raid sorted itself out. Erra Halfmoon had excoriated her nephew and his cousins for their participation in the attack on the Bloodreavers, although neither she nor anyone else in the Hall particularly mourned their passing. She had gone to visit the Grimmerzhul outpost personally—and alone—in the immediate aftermath of the attack, and when no retaliation materialized, the Hall seemed to let out a collective breath of relief. The Mages remained as distant and aloof as ever, and everyone continued with the more present business of eking out a life in the dangerous environment of the Labyrinth.

But there was still worry in the air at the Halfmoon Inn.

Jaron parted the curtains of their private booth, took a long look out into the common room, then pulled them shut again. Rendil and the other veterans of the raid on the Bloodreavers were nowhere to be seen; Erra was keeping them on a tight leash, and out of public sight for now. He couldn’t blame her, but it would have been nice to see at least a relatively friendly face. He couldn’t help but fidget, and for about the tenth time that morning, mentally berated K’rol Vhael.

But his eyes shifted inevitably to Beetle, and his hostility faded.

His cousin looked… deflated. He’d spent the last two days recovering from his ordeal in the Chamber of Eyes, and while his wounds had healed, the experience had taken something from him. Jaron felt a stab of guilt at the recurring thought that things were easier now that Beetle was more tractable; he’d carefully checked his cousin’s pockets each night, but it seemed that Beetle couldn’t even work up the energy to steal. He barely seemed to notice it when Jaron slid over the platter containing the last of their lunch, chunks of sliced mushrooms, dark bread, and meat of some undetermined origin.

“You need to eat more,” Jaron said. “Get your strength back.” Beetle took a piece of bread, but he merely held it in his hand. Jaron sighed.

He tensed as he sensed someone approaching the booth from outside. But it was only Mara, who stepped in and closed the drapes behind her. Jaron jumped up, and couldn’t help himself despite the woman fighter’s cautioning hand.

“What did you find out?”

“Keep your voice down,” Mara said, glancing back at the curtain. Jaron had already learned that the key power groups in the Hall actively spied upon each other, up to and including the Mages of Saruun. They had some privacy here, but the curtain was a scant reassurance. They could have met up in their room, but Jaron had started to feel trapped there, despite the reassurance of the thick stone walls.

Once Jaron had settled down, and Mara had seated herself on the human-sized bench opposite the booth, the fighter leaned in close. “You were right, the dragonborn met with the Grimmerzhuls this morning.”

“Damn it. I wish we could have gotten in there.”

Mara shook her head. “The place is a fortress, and the duergar are more alert than ever, now. There’s no way of finding out what they talked about, but at least there wasn’t blood spilled. I tried to track down one of the men from Fallcrest, but they are staying someplace outside the Hall, and the dragonborn’s too clever to be easily followed. I heard that the dwarf, his wizard, talked to a few people as well, and made a brief visit to the customhouse to talk to the Ordinator as well.”

“I might have a better chance of scouting out where they’re hiding.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. You don’t know the Hall. And I bet that the Grimmerzhuls would love to get their hands on you.”

“What about you?”

“I can take care of myself.”

Jaron started to protest, and I can’t? but he looked over at Beetle again, and felt that cold fist clench again in his gut.

Mara put a hand on his. “Don’t worry. I’ve got another contact I can talk to. Ulthand, he’s a dwarf that runs the Deepgem Company, he usually keeps his ear to the stone, as it were. I did him a favor when I first arrived here, and he might have heard something. I’m going to meet with him later today, see what I can find out.”

“And if we learn where the captives were sold?”

Mara didn’t let go of his hand, but her jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, Jaron. I’ve got responsibilities here, and the Halfmoons need more more now than ever.” Jaron didn’t need to see the subtle way her eyes shifted toward Beetle to hear the unspoken addition, and maybe the dragonborn was right. “They’re my people,” Jaron said, simple determination overriding everything else in his voice.

Mara nodded. “Let me see what I can find out.”