Realms of Shadow - Lizz Baldwin [67]
Entreri did as the drow instructed and an immediate chill washed over him, bringing a shudder.
There," Jarlaxle announced. "When you feel warm again, just tip the hat."
"I feel like a corpse."
"Better to feel like one than to be one."
Entreri tipped his hat in agreement, and shuddered again, then went back to his work on the window, this time popping the cut circle of glass free.
Tight fit," Jarlaxle said dryly.
The assassin tossed him a smirk and gingerly reached through the glass, moving his hand slowly and gently, so gently, about the pane in search of a trap.
"Seems like a lot of work," said Jarlaxle.
He reached up to his huge hat and pulled forth a small black piece of cloth. Seeing it, Entreri just lowered his head and sighed, for he knew what was coming.
Jarlaxle spun the cloth about and it elongated, grew larger and larger. The drow threw it against the wall, and the whole area of the structure that the black circle covered simply disappeared. The typical portable hole, a rare and valuable item, created an extra-dimensional pocket, but as with most of his items, Jarlaxle's device was far from typical. Depending upon which side the drow threw down, the portable hole would either create the pocket, or simply put a temporary hole in whatever surface it had struck. Jarlaxle casually stepped into the room and pulled his hole in behind him, securing the wall once more.
So flustered was Entreri that he almost moved too quickly across the trapped part of the window pane, feeling the slight lump that indicated a pressure trap.
Regaining his wits, the man's hand worked with perfect movements, and in seconds, he had the trap disarmed and even opened, revealing a small needle, no doubt poisoned.
He had it free and safely stuck through his cuff in a few more seconds, then finished his check of the window, clicked the lock, and entered the room.
"At least I put the wall back," Jarlaxle quipped, indicating the circle of glass in Entreri's hand.
A flick of the assassin's wrist sent the glass piece crashing to the floor.
"So much for secrecy," said Jarlaxle.
"Maybe I'm in the mood to kill someone," Entreri replied, staring hard at the frustrating dark elf.
Jarlaxle shrugged.
Entreri scanned the room. A door was set in the wall across from the window, in the corner to the left, with an open closet beside it. Halfway down the wall to the right of the window stood a chest of drawers as high as Entreri's shoulder. A bed and night table across from the bureau completed the furnishings. Entreri went for the chest of drawers as Jarlaxle moved to the closet.
"Poor taste," he heard the dark elf say, and turned to see Jarlaxle rifling through the hanging clothes, most of them drab and gray.
Entreri shook his head and pulled open the bottom drawer, finding some linens, and under them, a small pouch of coins, which disappeared into his pocket. The next drawer was much the same, and the third one up held assorted toiletry items, including a beautiful bone comb, its handle made of pearl. He took that, too.
The top drawer held the most curious items: a couple of jars of salves and a trio of potion bottles, each filled with a different colored liquid. Entreri nodded knowingly, and looked back to the window, then he shut the drawer and moved along to check the bed.
"Ah, a secret compartment," Jarlaxle said from the closet.
"Let me inspect it for traps."
"No need," said the dark elf.
He stepped back and produced a silver whistle, hung about his neck on a chain. Two short blows and there came a pop and a flash as the secret compartment magically opened.
"You have an answer for everything," Entreri remarked.
"Keeps me alive. Ah, yes, and look what we have here."
A moment later, Jarlaxle walked out of the closet carrying a small statuette, a curious figurine of a muscular man, half white, half black.
"Back to the inn and our reward?" Jarlaxle asked.
In response, the statue began laughing at him. "Doubtful you will be going anywhere, Artemis Entreri!" it said,