“How complete is Claw’s understanding of your thoughts?” Dahlia asked, her tone changing suddenly then, as if she were truly interested, as if she had an idea.

“You assume that I know when Claw is in my thoughts,” Entreri replied.

“Tell us everything you know about Neverwinter’s defenses,” Dahlia said with a wry grin, as if her desire to learn of those defenses—surely authentic—was only part of her reasoning.

Entreri looked to Drizzt, who, after studying Dahlia, recognized her plan and matched her smile. He looked back at Entreri and nodded.

With a shrug, Entreri explained the layout of the city, and detailed the wall’s strong points and its weaknesses. He knew where Alegni slept, and where the tiefling could usually be found. He told of the various Shadovar encampments around the city, as well, and as he moved along in his recounting, he too began to smile.

Drizzt nodded again, this time at Dahlia and her clever ploy to determine if Claw was then within Entreri’s thoughts, which, given the level and detail of the information he was providing—information that could prove fatal to Herzgo Alegni—the sword likely was not.

“Neither of you are schooled in the ways of wizards,” Dahlia said when Entreri was done.

“Enough so to kill them when they annoy me,” said Entreri.

“I have studied the magical arts,” the elf explained. She held up Kozah’s Needle. “Particularly those aspects that affect the creation of magical items. I am no novice to such weapons—to be so ignorant while wielding this weapon would be dangerous.”

“And your point?”

“It is not likely that this sword, Charon’s Claw, remains in your thoughts,” Dahlia explained. “More likely, the sword reacts to those forceful commands you make to your muscles.”

Entreri screwed up his face, clearly skeptical of the reasoning, or not understanding it.

“Kozah’s Needle knows when I need it to release its energy,” Dahlia said.

“Because you dominate the staff, as I once dominated Charon’s Claw,” Entreri replied.

But Dahlia was shaking her head. “Sentient weapons, all but the very greatest, are not separate beings. They have pride and demand of their wielder—such is part of the magic imbued within their metal or wood. But they aren’t conscious beings, plotting and conniving for personal gain. Charon’s Claw has come to dominate you through your long affiliation. All that truly means is that Charon’s Claw recognizes your action cues. It knows when you mean to strike and how you mean to strike, and what you wish its role to be in that strike, were you wielding it. Now, it retains that clear recognition of your action cues, and so it can react to them faster than you can counter the reaction.”

Entreri’s expression showed him to be less than convinced.

“What properties does the sword possess?”

“The ability to trail an opaque veil of ash,” Entreri replied hesitantly, not sure where this was going.

“And how quickly can the sword create this trail if called upon by its wielder?”

“Instantly,” said Entreri, and he suddenly seemed more intrigued.

“And would the sword ever put forth this ashen trail without your call?”

The assassin thought on that for a moment, then shook his head, but without much conviction.

“Your bond with it was so strong that you are not even sure if you consciously had to call upon it any longer,” Drizzt reasoned. “And so now you presume, logically, that the sword is reading your thoughts.”

“You don’t understand the pain this sword can inflict upon me,” Entreri answered.

Dahlia shrugged.

“The sword can dominate him,” Drizzt reminded her.

Entreri added, “And so just having me with you might compromise your mission, as I said.”

“And if Charon’s Claw was in your mind,” Dahlia asked the assassin, “would it have allowed you to kill that shade warrior and free me from the web? For surely Herzgo Alegni would have me brought to him in bindings.”

“So it is not a constant intrusion,” Drizzt said. “But how will we know?”

Dahlia broke Kozah’s Needle into two four-foot lengths, then. She regarded them for a few moments—and it seemed to Drizzt that she was communicating with the weapon—then tossed one length to Entreri.

“Certainly Kozah’s Needle will recognize the intrusion of a different sentience,” she explained.

Entreri stared at the length of metal, then put it up as if testing its balance.

“Do not even think to wield it as a weapon,” Dahlia said. “And at the first signs of any battle, return it immediately! But as we travel, let this serve as our sentry. If your sword attempts to infiltrate your mind, that bo stick you carry will know of it, and the one I carry will inform me.”

Drizzt and Entreri exchanged looks then, and both could only nod in admiration of the resourceful elf woman.

On a high turn along the southern coastal road, Drizzt and his two companions looked down upon Neverwinter. Nestled within the wider ruins of the old city, the newer construction and wall were clear to see—at least, those parts of the wall that were not obscured in shadow.

It wasn’t the shadow from any trees, or the angle of the sun behind any of the nearby hills in the region, that hid the wall, but a dull haze—a magical shadow, a fog brought forth from the Shadowfell itself.

“The Netherese have reinforced,” Dahlia stated, her tone aptly expressing what all three realized as they looked down upon Alegni’s stronghold. She turned a suspicious eye upon Entreri and remarked, “Perhaps the wretch does know of our plans.”

“If every setback is to be pinned to my cloak, then tell me now,” Entreri replied. Drizzt couldn’t help but smile at the perfect timbre in Entreri’s voice, conveying the man’s apparent boredom and just a bit of a threat. He was ever calm, and so there was always that threat, Drizzt understood. He looked at Dahlia to see if she had caught it, and her expression, a mixture of anger and only slightly-hidden surprise, confirmed the drow’s suspicion.

“How many, do you think?” Drizzt asked, thinking it wise to deflect this conversation.

“Perhaps he fears that we’re coming for him—surely he knows of Sylora Salm’s fate,” Entreri reasoned. He dropped down from his nightmare steed and climbed atop a large stone to get a better vantage point. Drizzt and Dahlia slipped down from Andahar and moved to join him.

“Several score, at least,” Entreri explained when they arrived. He pointed out a handful of Shadovar encampments just outside the city wall. “Alegni has tightened his defensive ring, as well.”

“If he knows of Sylora, then perhaps he believes that the Thayans will strike out recklessly, at least initially,” Drizzt said.

Entreri nodded his agreement. “Whether against our threat or that of the Thayans, Herzgo Alegni has prepared his city for defense.”

“Perhaps, then, we would do well to shrink back into the forest and let the time of potential crisis pass,” Drizzt offered, and no sooner had he gotten the words out of his mouth when Dahlia joined right in.

“Your advice on every development is to wait and hide,” she retorted sharply. “How you ever earned a reputation for being anything more than a coward eludes me, Drizzt Do’Urden.”

Drizzt’s eyes widened, particularly given the adventures he and Dahlia had already shared in their short time together. In addition to the assault on Sylora’s fortress, they had gone to Gauntlgrym side by side and battled a lich and a primordial.

He didn’t know how to respond, but Entreri did. It wasn’t often that Drizzt or anyone else had heard Artemis Entreri laugh aloud, but he was surely doing so then.

Drizzt stared hard at Dahlia. A part of him wanted to strike back at her, for he found that he didn’t much like being mocked, and found, to his surprise, that he truly did not like being mocked in front of Artemis Entreri. That last revelation did surprise him more than a little, but he couldn’t deny it.

“And you would throw yourself in front of any danger, because you foolishly believe yourself immortal,” he said, though it took him a long while to find his voice.

“Or she simply does not care,” Entreri replied before Dahlia could, and the assassin and Dahlia exchanged a look then that set Drizzt back on his heels.

Entreri understood something about her that he did not, Drizzt realized. Yes, he too had wondered about exactly what Entreri had just claimed, but even though he might recognize the possibility, Drizzt knew from the glance his two companions had shared that Entreri understood this part of Dahlia on a much deeper level than he ever could.

Again to his surprise, and there were many that morning on the high road, Drizzt found that the revelation bothered him more than a little.

“How would you have us get into Neverwinter, then?” the drow asked, bringing the conversation back to the point. “You know their defenses,” he said to Entreri. “Where are they weak?”

“I knew their defenses,” the assassin replied, glancing back down at the city. “It would seem they are much stronger now.”

“Too strong?” Drizzt asked.

“No,” Dahlia replied.

Entreri shrugged. “They have weaknesses. Jelvus Grinch, perhaps the leading citizen among the settlers, is no friend to Herzgo Alegni. Their alliance—one that I created—was wrought of mutual hatred of the Thayans, and from the beginning, the citizens of Neverwinter have been wary of the Netherese. They are much like the folk of Ten-Towns.”

Drizzt nodded eagerly, appreciating Entreri’s attempt to bring this to a better level of his own understanding, and indeed, his own limited experiences with the folk of the new Neverwinter somewhat confirmed the assassin’s comparison. “They intend to pick their own rulers,” Entreri finished.

“And they wouldn’t choose the Netherese,” Dahlia reasoned.

“Would you?”

Dahlia spat on the ground.

“How can we exploit this?” Drizzt asked. “I know Jelvus Grinch—how might I meet with him and enlist his aid?” Even as he spoke the words, though, Drizzt began entertaining doubts regarding that course. As he looked down at Neverwinter, the deep pockets of shadow gave him pause. If he enlisted Grinch and others in this personal vendetta of Dahlia’s, would he not, perhaps, be creating a possible massacre within Neverwinter?

Even as Entreri began laying out some manner in which he might arrange such a liaison, Drizzt was shaking his head.

“If your old sword notices one instant of our plotting, and that plotting includes Jelvus Grinch, many in Neverwinter will be killed,” Drizzt interrupted.

“Then how?” Dahlia demanded. “If I must fight my way through that garrison, then so be it, but I will not turn aside.”

Entreri began to smile immediately, as a thought obviously came over him.

“What do you know?” Drizzt prompted.

“When the river flowed as lava and the hot ash piled deep on Neverwinter, I was trapped under that bridge,” he explained, pointing to a distant structure, one that had been known as the Winged Wyvern Bridge. “I had no idea how I would ever get out of there, and yet I could not stay. The heat from the river . . .” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.