by Sarah Hawke
The Huntress flicked her wrist. “Anyway,” she went on, “the point is that this city is pretty much doomed if we can’t figure out a way to buy us more time. You obviously know this—we heard you’ve been petitioning the rest of the Council to launch some kind of attack as a feint to slow down the Vorsalosian advance.”
“That’s right,” Serrane said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “They don’t think it’s worth the risk or the resources.”
“That’s partially because they’re idiots and partially because they don’t have the information we do,” Valuri said. “The Black Mistress claims that her people have located the Inquisitrix’s wyvern hatchery. I have a map from her scouts…if we’re lucky, the two of us might be able to head out there and destroy it.”
The ranger’s breath caught in her throat. “The hatchery? You’re serious?”
“I told you I had important news,” the Huntress replied mildly. “I had a feeling it would perk up those pretty ears of yours.”
Serrane turned away and nibbled at her lip as a hundred new possibilities raced through her mind. If they could somehow sabotage the wyverns and deny the Inquisitrix air superiority, they might actually have a chance…
“Faarea,” she whispered. “This could change everything.”
“Assuming the information is accurate, yeah.” Valuri sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Unfortunately, I don’t trust Solemi any more than you do. She’s manipulated us before, and—”
“Solemi?” Serrane asked, frowning. “You mean the girl from Riverbend who was captured by the drow years ago?”
Valuri froze in place for a moment before she made a clucking sound with her tongue. “You really don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Okay, I guess we really do need to start at the beginning,” Valuri said, wandering into Serrane’s room and flopping down on the couch. She propped her heels up on the arm rest and let out a long, weary sigh. “You might as well sit down, honey, because this is going to take a while…”
***
Patience had never been one of Valuri Sorvaal’s virtues, and boring expository diatribes had always been Jorem’s specialty, not hers. But she still tried her best to tell the Ranger-General everything they knew about what was going on, from the Fount to Inquisitrix Marcella to the fact that Solemi/Silhouette was in fact the Black Mistress.
Serrane took it all in with far more grace and aplomb than Valuri would have had their situations been reversed, and the elf’s bright blue eyes glimmered in thought as she tried to process everything. She lived up to her reputation as a poised pragmatist; she was entirely focused on the here and now, not the broader esoteric revelations about the nature of the Conduits and the Fallen Gods and all the other shit Jorem and Red actually seemed to care about for whatever reason.
In other words, Serrane is a woman after my own heart. And holy hell is she even more gorgeous up close when we aren’t being attacked by a barbarian horde…
“The wyverns and their riders are easily the biggest threat at the moment,” Serrane said after she’d taken a few minutes to work through everything. “If there’s even a chance the two of us can neutralize them, we have to take it.”
“I’m glad we agree,” Valuri replied. “But like I said, even if this information is accurate it also seems like a way for the Black Mistress to get her biggest political rival out of the city for a few days.”
The ranger nodded as she paced over to her office window and glanced outside. “Maybe,” she murmured. “Though to be honest, I think she’d rather have me here. She’s convinced I will cave and side with Constable Mannick anytime.”
Valuri frowned. “You don’t strike me as the caving type.”
“I’m not,” Serrane said flatly. “But she believes she can blackmail me.”
“Really,” the Huntress said, leaning forward. “Can she?”
Serrane’s cheek twitched almost imperceptibly. “I will not sell Highwind’s future to a scheming, manipulative crime lord just to spare myself a little embarrassment. If the Black Mistress had anything to do with Highlord Kastrius’s death, I would rather leave the Council myself than see her sit upon it.”
Valuri nodded idly, wondering what kind of dirt Solemi could possibly have on the Ranger-General that would be “embarrassing.” Serrane seemed far too straight-laced to have committed any real crimes, so the only thing left was personal indiscretions. Was she hiding a bunch or sordid affairs? Was she secretly into giant orc cock? It was difficult to imagine anything that could compete with the fact that Archmage Beloran was a cuckold, or that his wife, Telanya got off on it as much as he did…
“In any event, it doesn’t matter,” Serrane said, pivoting back around and waving her hand dismissively. “This may be our only chance to buy Highwind more time.”
“The big question is whether or not it will be enough,” Valuri said. “From what I’ve seen on the streets, the city is already falling apart. Even with Darkwind’s army we’ll still be badly outnumbered, and to be perfectly blunt there’s no one in this city capable of dealing with the Senosi.”
“That might not be entirely true,” Serrane said, her brow scrunching in thought. “There is a chance—a small chance—that the Knights of the Silver Fist might survive long enough to fight back.”
Valuri arched a black eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
Serrane nibbled anxiously at her lip as if she couldn’t decide just how much she wanted to trust a near stranger, even one who had given her a load of useful information. “On our return to Highwind from Icewatch, Knight-Captain Cassel and were ambushed by one of your Senosi sisters.”
“Solemi mentioned that,” Valuri said. “I’m impressed you escaped.”
“We shouldn’t have,” Serrane admitted, a shadow flickering across her face. “I’ll spare you the details, but suffice to say we met someone with a special power.”
“A new Conduit.”
The general’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I guess the Black Mistress must have heard the rumors circulating around the Silver Fist.”
“She didn’t know anything for certain, but she had suspicions,” Valuri said. “Is it actually true? Can this Eternal Priestess really restore someone’s magic?”
Serrane nodded solemnly. “Yes. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
Valuri leaned back and whistled through her lips. “That’s…I don’t know, but ‘incredible’ doesn’t seem to cut it. The thing is, if the Black Mistress has heard the rumors about this girl, then the Senosi probably have too. It’s only a matter of time before they come after her.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons she’s no longer in the city.” Serrane sighed heavily. “I’d rather not say more at the moment, but suffice to say there is a plan in motion. If it works, Highwind’s defenders might not be as weak and helpless as the Inquisitrix thinks. But the longer we can stall the siege, the better.”
Valuri nodded again. A part of her wanted to dash back into the Underworld and tell Jorem and the others about this, but it wouldn’t really change anything in the short term. They had their longshot mission, and she had hers. She just couldn’t believe that she had actually been the one who had convinced them that splitting up was a good plan…
“If this hatchery is up in the mountains, we should get moving as soon as possible,” Serrane said, retrieving her bow and pack from the bed.
“Wait, now?” Valuri asked. “Don’t you need to check in with the Council or something?”
“To what end? So they can try to convince me not to leave?” The general scoffed and shook her head. “Our only chance at destroying these wyverns is the element of surprise. The more people know what we’re doing, the better the chance the Inquisitrix reinforces her position.”
Valuri grinned. Headstrong, impatient, pragmatic...she really did have a lot in common with this woman. “Well, then I guess I’m ready to go if you are.”
Serrane nod
ded. “Leaving the city is the only problem. The gates are all surrounded, and the Duskwatch tunnels lead in the opposite direction.”
“Leaving won’t be a problem,” Valuri said. “We can take the passages out of Darkwind. They’ll spit us out in the hills in southwest of the city.”
“Very well,” Serrane said. “At least the smuggling tunnels will be used for something worthwhile, for once.”
The two women started for the door, but just before they got outside Valuri touched the other woman’s shoulder. “Actually, there is one thing I’d like to grab before we leave,” she said. “As the Ranger-General, you must have some blacksmiths you can boss around for customized gear, right?”
Serrane’s blonde brows arched in unison. “I can requisition equipment, yes. Why?”
“Oh, I’ve just been thinking about a little upgrade,” Valuri said, unsheathing the tiny claws concealed in her gauntlet. “Do you think they could install a short blade inside my glove?”
“Probably. Why?”
“Oh, I just think that having a bit more range and penetrating power would be nice, you know?
Serrane eyed her skeptically. “I can certainly ask.”
“That would be fantastic. Oh, and one last thing,” Valuri said, smiling deviously. “Do you think they could forge the blade out of silver?”
5
Secrets of Vel’shannar
Despite all the rumors and legends, Jorem had never fully appreciated the byzantine nature of the tunnels beneath Highwind until he, Kaseya, and Selvhara started trying to navigate them on their own. The passages leading in and out of the city had been straight-forward enough, but after only half an hour of aimlessly wandering through the darkness he was seriously starting to second guess this whole plan.
“Are you absolutely sure you know where you are going?” he asked, stretching out his arm and waving the magical flame in his palm like a torch. “Because I never realized I was claustrophobic until now.”
“According to the map Varassa left us, we are still on the right path,” Selvhara said. Her hazel eyes had turned a bestial yellow, and her nose twitched every once in a while as if she were tracking a scent. “The city should be close.”
“The ground is too solid for footprints,” Kaseya said, gesturing warily to the cavern floor, “but there are enough marks on the dust and rubble to suggest that a great many people have been moving back and forth between Darkwind and Vel’shannar. We could still be walking into a trap.”
“Maybe,” Jorem murmured, trying in vain to peer through the long, endless shadows. He was a little surprised at just how uncomfortable the caverns were making him, especially considering how he had been forced to live in the warrens of Vorsalos for most of his life. But there was something deeply disturbing about having a million tons of rock between you and daylight…
Repressing a shiver, he wiped the thin sheen of cold sweat from his forehead and tried to force himself to calm down. The fact that Kaseya was also unsettled probably wasn’t helping his anxiety. Her sword and shield had been out and ready this entire time, and every once in a while her head would flick about as if she had heard something skittering in the darkness just beyond the light. For her sake, Jorem tried his best to get his shit together. Her collar could be a real burden sometimes.
“I still don’t know what Varassa would gain by setting us up,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Perhaps she is trying to gain favor with her mistress by catching us where we don’t belong,” Kaseya suggested.
“That seems far-fetched. We’re far more valuable to both of them when we’re actually doing something on their behalf.”
“Then perhaps she is manipulating us to perform a task she couldn’t perform herself.”
“Maybe,” Jorem murmured. An awkward silence settled over them, and every few seconds he was tempted to give the order to turn around. Selvhara, notably, didn’t seem concerned in the least.
“I can’t help but find it fascinating how differently the Vaetharri tribes evolved over time,” Selvhara whispered as she studied a cavern wall that had obviously been shaped and molded with magic. “The dark elves in Sulinor retreated beneath the surface to escape the tyranny of their Avetharri cousins, and their entire civilization is dedicated to containing the horrors of the Underworld and destroying demons from the Pale. Yet here these ‘drow’ willingly consort with demons and are obsessed with conquering the surface.”
“They’re obsessed with a lot of things, none of them good,” Jorem said. “I wish I knew more about what happened down here. I’ve heard dozens of tales about a drow civil war and a battle between the Matron Mother’s daughters, but details are impossible to come by.”
He abruptly glanced up when he swore he heard something crawling across the ceiling, but when nothing dropped on his head he forced himself to take another deep breath and press on.
“Anyway, the Knights of the Silver Fist used to fend off drow raids pretty frequently, but all of that stopped a few years ago,” he went on. “One of these days we need to ask Solemi how she survived being a prisoner…and how she escaped.”
“I wonder if the drow priestesses experienced portents about the Shattering,” Selvhara mused. “If what I’ve read about their culture is true, their religion would not have survived such an upheaval.”
“I suppose not,” Jorem said. “Still, I don’t know where a whole city of them could have gone…or how Solemi convinced a handful of them to stay on as her handmaidens.”
“I still think we could be more useful on the surface,” Kaseya mumbled, “but perhaps Valuri is right: the fact Solemi doesn’t want us down here is the best reason why we should be.”
Jorem nodded. “We’ll find out soon enough. Assuming we don’t get buried alive…”
Selvhara led them through a few more creepy, winding passages before she abruptly crouched and held up her hand. “There are guards up ahead…six or seven humans and one dark elf.”
“How can you possibly tell from this far away?” Kaseya asked, shaking her head.
“Their scents are strong,” the druid replied matter-of-factly. “I could scout the nearby passages if you would prefer to find another way around.”
Jorem pursed his lips in thought. His tiny light wasn’t even reaching the ceiling in here, but he was hesitant to channel more power and make it brighter with other people nearby. “That could take hours, and I doubt Solemi would leave any obvious entrances unguarded. We might as well use that token Varassa gave us and see if it works. If not…”
“If we openly attack Solemi’s people, we will never be welcome in Darkwind again,” Kaseya warned.
“I’m not planning on setting fire to any bridges just yet,” Jorem said. “We don’t even know if there’s anything worthwhile down here. If they tell us to leave, we’ll leave.”
Selvhara turned and eyed him intently as if she wanted to argue, but she ultimately remained silent. This whole expedition was obviously a lot more important to her than it was to the rest of them, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that just yet.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Just be ready to run if we have to get out of here in a hurry.”
They continued forward, and it didn’t take long before he spotted a pair of torches across the cavern in the darkness. As they drew closer, the entrance to Vel’shannar slowly took shape as well. A jagged, fifty-foot tall metal gate spanned the gap between two mountainous walls, and a half a dozen humanoid figures were standing protectively in front of it. Most of them were armed and armored similarly to the army gathered inside Darkwind, but the group’s apparent leader was a drow male clad in purple metallic armor that shimmered in the light. He was surprisingly muscular for an elf, and the sword slung over his back was nearly as tall as he was.
“Adamantine,” Kaseya whispered. “I doubt my blade could even penetrate his armor.”
“Then let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jorem said. “Let me do the—”
�
�Vendui, abbil,” Selvhara called out as they approached. “Usstan kestal lil' oloth kyorle dos al nindol tangi.”
The drow male crossed his arms over his chest. “Sshar'tleg tarthe darthiir. Gaer zhah naubol whol dos ghil.”
“That sounded angry,” Jorem muttered. “Please tell me he isn’t angry.”
Selvhara smiled and withdrew the spider pendant from inside her pouch. She blurted out another few sentences as she twirled it in her hand, and the man’s faintly glowing red eyes immediately widened. He signaled for the other men with him to move out of the way, and they obeyed without hesitation.
“F'sarn taudl, abbil,” the man said. “Isstan kat naut kampi'un dos zhahen xuil lil' Ust Dalharil.”
“Bel'la dos,” the druid replied as she turned back to Jorem and Kaseya. “We are welcome to enter.”
“That was fast,” Jorem said. “You’re sure he’s not just going to stab you in the back?”
“If I wished to kill you, surfacer, I would do so in plain view,” the drow man said in a deep, heavily-accented voice.
“Oh,” Jorem murmured. “Well, that’s…thoughtful.”
The man snorted contemptuously and turned back to Selvhara. The two spoke in gibberish for another few seconds before she smiled again and bade Jorem and Kaseya to follow. The amazon glared at the guards the entire time they passed through the gate, and he couldn’t help but smile when the other humans retreated a few steps. The drow male, notably, did not bunch an inch.
“I’ve had warmer welcomes,” Jorem muttered once they were out of earshot. “What the hell did he say to you?”
“He said he was honored to help anyone working with the ‘First Daughter,’ whoever that is,” Selvhara said.
Jorem frowned. “First Daughter…if I’m not mistaken, that’s a drow title of office. The First Daughter is the most powerful drow female beneath the Matron Mother.”
