all he had to do was flash his smile—his real smile and not the façade he wore for the peasant bandits in the north. The resistance melted away, and the gates were thrown wide.
“Dahlia and the drow were heading north, to Luskan, they said,” Hadencourt reported when he stood beside Sylora Salm on the second floor of her treelike tower.
“Greeth! Ark-lem!” Valindra shrieked from the corner.
Hadencourt stared at her incredulously.
“Ignore her,” Sylora told him.
That was no easy thing to do, though, and Hadencourt’s gaze lingered over the lich for some time. Valindra stared back at him with a crooked grin.
“The farther they go from here, the better, though I’d love to burn Dahlia to ashes,” Sylora Salm replied to the original point.
Valindra’s expression disappeared and she cocked her head as she studied Hadencourt. She’d noted the great deference in Sylora’s tone, Hadencourt realized, and that, he deduced, was something rarely heard.
“You may get your opportunity,” he replied, turning back to the sorceress. “Dahlia made a point to mention Neverwinter Wood as her intended destination, though her immediate road headed the opposite way. She said there was adventure to be found here. I assume she was referring to you.”
“And her companion?”
“Tried to deflect her from revealing their future path.”
“He was wary of you?” Sylora asked suspiciously, and she turned around to view the hollowed tree trunk she’d excavated and hauled into the back of the chamber. Years before, Sylora had created of the trunk a scrying pool.
Hadencourt shook his head doubtfully. “He was more reserved than she, I would expect. But then, who isn’t?”
Sylora turned back to regard Hadencourt directly, her look as suspicious as her previous question. Hadencourt was a newcomer to Neverwinter Wood, one of the more recent Ashmadai reinforcements. He wouldn’t have known Dahlia from his time there, as she was long gone by the time he’d arrived—that was why Sylora had chosen him to serve as a scout on the northern road.
“I know all about Lady Dahlia,” Hadencourt admitted.
“Who are you?”
The tall man smiled as he’d done outside, revealing long, pointed teeth. He furrowed his brow and a pair of horns sprouted from his forehead.
“I thought you were Ashmadai,” Sylora said, trying to keep her calm façade—no easy task when confronted by a mighty malebranche devil.
“Oh, my lady Sylora, I surely am!” Hadencourt replied. “More devoted than these tieflings and humans, of course. After all, they merely worship Asmodeus, while I witness his glory personally. And let me assure you that he’s every bit as impressive as his hordes of worshipers would have you believe.”
“Does Szass Tam know of your—?”
“Do you think me foolish enough to try to hide something this important from the archlich?”
“And he sent you here anyway,” Sylora remarked.
“Fear not, my lady Sylora,” Hadencourt said with a deep bow. “In this endeavor, I am subservient to Sylora Salm. I am no spy, unless it’s your spy. Such were my orders from Szass Tam, and I honor them with relish.”
Her expression reflected her skepticism.
“Greeth! Greeth!” Valindra chimed in.
Sylora looked past the devil to the lich, and Hadencourt turned as well to regard her—fast enough to see a serious and cogent expression on Valindra’s face, albeit briefly, before she tittered and floated away.
Grinning knowingly—the lich wasn’t as insane as she let on—Hadencourt faced Sylora once more.
“Were I a demon of the Abyss, you would be correct in your doubts, I expect,” Hadencourt said. “But consider my heritage. One does not survive the Nine Hells with subterfuge, but with obedience. I accept my place as your second.”
Sylora cocked an eyebrow, drawing a laugh from the devil.
“As your primary scout, then?” Hadencourt bargained. “Surely you will not expect me to submit to the commands of one of these mortal Ashmadai.”
“You will remain separate from the warriors here,” Sylora agreed.
“Well, then, with your leave, I’ll return to my duties on the north road.” He bowed again, and seeing Sylora’s nod, turned to leave.
“If you wish to truly serve as my second,” Sylora remarked, stopping him before he’d gone more than a couple of steps, “you will relieve me of that nuisance Dahlia.”
Hadencourt turned a sly eye Sylora’s way. “Szass Tam was not as definitive regarding her fate.”
“Szass Tam didn’t understand the depths of her traitorous ways, then.”
They exchanged nods.
“With pleasure, my lady Sylora,” Hadencourt the war devil said.
Sylora Salm had enough experience with devils to know he meant it.
“You would deny me this glory?” growled the Ashmadai warrior, Jestry. “I have earned this moment, and you would see me