by Томас Рейд
The trapped and dying drow moved his arm again, futilely trying to shift the weight of the half-giant off himself so he could wriggle free, but Aliisza knew he would never do it, not with only one arm.
In a sudden and very uncharacteristic act of compassion, the alu-fiend leaped off her perch and floated down to where the dark elf lay feebly squirming. The drow spotted her and tensed, eyeing her warily. She only smiled and nudged a discarded dagger a bit closer to him, so that it was within reach of his free hand. Stepping back, she waited and watched to see if he would do the right thing.
The drow contemplated her for a moment, then he seemed to nod in understanding. He took hold of the dagger and saluted Aliisza with it before he started cutting pieces off the half-giants corpse. It was going to take a while, and it was already messy, but he might just cut his way free before the web street collapsed.
Smiling in satisfaction, Aliisza turned away and headed back up to her original vantage point, worrying anew over Pharauns fate.
THIRTEEN
The five drow worked their way into the bowels of House Melarn for what seemed like hours, though Pharaun was fairly certain they'd only been at it for about fifteen minutes. On several occasions, the group was forced to stop while a member of the House guard crossed paths with them, and once, Halisstra actually posed as a member of House Zauvirr, issuing orders to a group of sentries to head to the surface to help in the defense of the House.
«The lower levels are not usually very heavily occupied,» Halisstra said at one point. «I suspect most of Ssipriina's servants and troops are above, aiding in the defense of the House. It's not much farther, now.»
The mage nodded as the five of them continued on their way. More than once, Pharaun caught himself gazing in infatuation at the gorgeous creature beside him. She seemed to be considerably unhappy at the state of things, especially the fact that she was helpless to defend herself with her arms bound as they were, but she kept her gaze cast demurely down, and the wizard only found this to be even more endearing.
The group took one last stairwell down and found themselves in a dismal cell block. The hall was undecorated, unlike the posh elegance of the levels above, and the stale stench of unwashed bodies, faint though it was, gave a certain hint of what was to be found there. Halisstra led the five of them to a doorway at the end of a short hall. It was stout and obviously designed to withstand considerable force.
The drow priestess stepped up to the portal and waved her House Melarn brooch before it. There was an audible click as the magic of the insignia operated the locks set into the door. Halisstra pushed the door aside and moved through into the chamber beyond, which appeared to be a guard room, currently empty. At the far side of the chamber, a hallway stretched off into darkness.
Pharaun, spotting movement in the corridor there, put a finger to his lips and motioned for quiet.
Someone is there. Be alert — and no noise, he signed, pointing to both Halisstra and Danifae.
The two drow females nodded, and Pharaun gestured for Halisstra to proceed. As she entered the hallway, the others followed her in. The majority of the cells were empty, their doors standing open and the chambers within dark and silent. However, about halfway down, Pharaun could detect the low voice of someone speaking. It emanated from one of the cells on his right, and he could just see the door being swung shut from inside.
Moving as quietly as they could, the five of them closed the gap to the doorway. The portal was not completely sealed, and Pharaun was able to peer inside the cell. Quenthel was there, naked and crouched against the far wall. A heavy steel collar was around her neck, with a thick chain running from it to a bolt set into the stone of the wall. The high priestess was gagged with some sort of thick bit that was wedged tightly in her mouth, and her arms were obviously incapacitated, stuck together in some sort of thick, viscous black blob in front of her. She had been very effectively immobilized, and Pharaun understood all too well, completely prohibited from casting, should she still have a divine enchantment locked away after all this time without contact with Lolth.
To one side, against another wall of the cell, Jeggred stood glowering. He too was chained to the wall, thick bands of adamantine encasing his neck, arms, and legs. Pharaun could see that the restraints were magically strengthened, but even so, the draegloth strained against them, refusing to admit even for a moment that he was not going to break free. Again and again, Jeggred jerked on the chains, causing them to rattle against the wall as he tried to lunge at the object of his wrath.
Faeryl Zauvirr stood just a little way out of the draegloths reach, her back to Pharaun and Halisstra. She was standing over Quenthel in the middle of a scathing taunt.
«. . know you would have loved to tell the matron mothers the truth, but it's too late for that now. I only regret that we didn't have more time spend together, Quenthel.»
Her voice dripped with acid.
«Come a little closer, Faeryl,» Jeggred said, his deep voice flat with malice. «Let me caress you like before, in the underhalls of the Great Mound. Don't you want to feel my kiss again?»
Faeryl shuddered but ignored the draegloth, instead pulling a dagger from her belt.
Halisstra tapped Pharaun softly on the arm.
Let me lure her out here, the Melarn daughter signed.
Pharaun nodded and stepped back, out of sight. Ryld pulled Danifae against the wall next to the wizard, while Valas took up a position on the opposite side of the door.
«Still, it's going to be fun watching you both die,» the wizard heard Faeryl say.
«I'm afraid we have other plans for her, Faeryl,» Halisstra said, pushing the door open.
The ambassador hissed in anger.
«What are you doing here?» she snarled. «You should be dead!»
Then, apparently realizing that Halisstra had discovered her secret, Faeryl's tone changed.
«You don't really think I'm going to let you walk out of here alive, do you? To run and tell the others what you found? I don't think so.»
Halisstra's tone was equally cold.
«On the contrary. You don't think I came down here alone, did you? Danifae!» the Melarn daughter called out, back over her shoulder. «It's true. Run, and tell them what we found.»
«I think not,» Faeryl said, appearing in the hallway as though she had leaped past the priestess. «You're not going to tell. .»
The words died in Faeryl's mouth as she spotted Pharaun, Ryld, and Danifae leaning against the wall.
«You!» she spat. «Halisstra, you cast your lot with them? You're a bigger fool than I thought.»
The look In Faeryl's eyes was decidedly nervous, and her fear only grew as she felt Valas step in behind her and take hold of her arm. The point of the scout's kukri settled against the hollow of her throat.
Pharaun reached out and held out his hand, waiting for Faeryl to relinquish her dagger to him. Eyeing any possible avenue of escape, she appeared ready to bolt but realized she had no chance against so many. She relinquished the dagger, flipping the handle around and laying the weapon in the wizards palm.
«Perhaps I am a fool,» Halisstra said, «but at least I have them as allies, which is more than I can say for you. Did you enjoy your little game of lies? I hope it was worth it. I think it will be the last thing you enjoy. Ever.»
«Watch her,» the mage said to Valas as he stepped into the cell, Halisstra close behind.
It was obvious from the relieved look in Quenthel's eyes that she was glad to see him. Pharaun only smiled as he uttered a magical phrase. The collar around Quenthel's neck clicked open.
«Help her,» he directed to Halisstra.
Pharaun then moved over to Jeggred, whose red, feral eyes glittered in anticipation.
«Your arrival was timely, wizard,» the draegloth said, spreading his arms wide. «Free me so that I may rend the traitor and watch the life fade from her eyes.»
«You will do no such thing,» Quenthel said. Halisstra had helped the high priestess remove
the gag. «Do not touch her, Jeggred. Do you understand me?»
Jeggred looked at Quenthel for a moment, but then the demon inclined his head in acquiescence.
«As you wish and command, Mistress.»
Pharaun had but one more spell with which to unlock the restraints that held Jeggred, and he quickly utilized it to free one of the draegloth's arms. For the other bindings, the mage decided to cast a different spell, one that would suppress the magic that strengthened the adamantine. He quickly wove the dispelling magic and watched as the aura surrounding the metal faded from his sight.
«Try to break it, now,» he said to Jeggred.
The draegloth jerked experimentally on the chains holding him to the walls, then he really leaned into the effort, but the adamantine links still would not yield.
Pharaun frowned.
«Perhaps a bit of cold, to make them brittle,» he mused aloud, producing a small, clear crystal from his piwafwi. «Gather the lengths together in a group,» he directed the draegloth. Jeggred did so, holding them in his free hand like a set of reins on a pack lizard.
Pointing the crystal at the sections of chain, the Master of Sor-cere focused a cone of magically summoned arctic air along their lengths. When the incantation was completed, he gestured for Jeggred to try again.
This time, when the fiend began to work the restraints over, the frosty metal shattered, freeing him. He still had the collar and manacles around his neck and limbs, but that could be dealt with later.
«My thanks, wizard,» the draegloth said, then strode over to where Quenthel was in the process of freeing herself from the last of the black, sticky, resinlike substance that her hands had been encased in.
Quenthel stood in the center of the cell, naked but seemingly oblivious to it.
«Do you make a habit of remaining maddeningly out of reach until the last possible moment, Mizzrym?» she said, scowling slightly. «You cut your arrival a bit close, didn't you?»
Pharaun sighed inwardly, realizing that whatever gratitude had been present before had been replaced by the high priestess's usual haughty demeanor.
«My pardon, please, Mistress Baenre,» he said in as gracious a tone as possible. «We dallied with some of the local maidens as long as we could before rushing here at the last moment. I didn't think you would mind terribly much.»
Ryld chuckled at the wizard's snide remark, while both Halisstra and Danifae gave him sharp looks, reminding him that the two members of House Melarn were unaccustomed to his disrespectful relationship with Quenthel. The Mistress of the Academy merely scowled at him then turned away to face Faeryl, who cringed, still under Valas's guard.
«Strip her and give her clothes to me,» Quenthel commanded, eliciting a high-pitched squeak of protest from the ambassador.
Valas held the prisoner steady as Ryld stepped up to help him, and Halisstra jumped forward almost eagerly and began to disrobe Faeryl, who struggled to avoid the ignominious fate.
«Just who are these two?» Quenthel snapped, eyeing Danifae.
The battle captive cocked her head to one side, eyeing the high priestess in return, as though gauging how much she should defer to this new leader.
«I am Danifae Yauntyrr, Mistress Baenre, formerly of Eryndlyn. I am Halisstra Melarns personal attendant.»
«A battle captive?» Quenthel smirked, and Danifae merely bowed her head.
Quickly enough, Faeryl stood naked in the midst of the group, still held between Valas and Ryld, while Quenthel donned the ambassador's clothing. As the high priestess was dressing, she jerked her head in the direction of the collar, still chained to the wall where she'd been restrained only moments before.
«Lock her up,» Quenthel commanded.
«No!» Faeryl protested, trying desperately to jerk free of her two captors. As Valas, Halisstra, and Ryld all corralled her, the ambassador shrieked and began to fight against her captors. «No! You can't leave me down here. …»
«Shut up!» Quenthel said, slapping Faeryl. «You sniveling, wretched creature, did you really believe you could get away with your betrayal? Did you honestly think you could defy me, a Baenre, and the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith? By the Dark Mother, child, the depths of your foolishness surprise me! Lock her up,» she repeated, gesturing once more at the thick adamantine collar.
«No!» Faeryl protested again, struggling as she was hauled over to the wall.
The ambassador flailed and kicked, but the scout and warrior held her tightly as Halisstra fitted the collar around her neck. When the adamantine band clicked shut, the imprisoned drow sobbed once, and as soon as the two males relinquished their grip on her, she began frantically jerking on the restraint.
Quenthel started to turn away, then paused.
«You can redeem yourself, if you like,» she said to Faeryl.
«How?» the frantic dark elf asked. «Anything! I will do whatever you want.»
«Tell me where my things are,» Quenthel replied. «Tell me where all of my possessions were stored when I was brought here.»
Faeryl's face fell in despair.
«I don't know,» she sobbed, dropping to her knees in supplication. «Please don't leave me here. I will find them for you.»
«Don't bother with her,» Halisstra said. «I know where your things are, Quenthel Baenre.»
Quenthel turned and eyed the daughter of House Melarn.
«Why should I trust you?» she asked.
«That is for you to decide,» Halisstra answered, «but consider this … I led your males down here to find you, I lured the traitor out into the hall before she could kill you, and I live here and can find my way around. While that would ordinarily be a strike against me, as I told the wizard, I have no quarrel with you, and I do not want to see you suffer the consequences for House Zauvirr's betrayal of my mother.»
Quenthel's eyebrows raised as she listened to the other priestess's words, then she looked at Pharaun.
«She speaks the truth,» the wizard admitted. «At least thus far. She has thrown herself in with us, though she has few alternatives. The other matron mothers, led by Ssipriina Zauvirr, are wresting control of her House away from her, after the death of her mother.»
«Hmm,» Quenthel mused. «Very well. We'll address your status later. If you know where my things are, lead on,»
«Wait!» Faeryl cried out, lunging forward against the chain around her neck. «She will betray you, Mistress. All the noble Houses despise you for your plans to steal from the city. You can't trust her.»
«On the contrary,» Quenthel laughed derisively, shaking her head. «She is a Melarn, a member of the only House in Ched Nasad I can trust. Let's go.»
The high priestess turned to depart the cell, and Pharaun was stepping into the hall behind her as Faeryl wailed once more, «You can't leave me here!»
The ambassador began a chant, and Pharaun recognized the pattern of the words as a divine incantation, though he wasn't sure what sort of spell the dark elf might still have retained in her memory.
Before she could complete the invocation, though, Jeggred was in front of Faeryl. The draegloth flicked a hand out, across her face, slicing his long claws across one cheek and catching her by surprise so that she lost her concentration and the words of the spell died in her mouth, the magic lost.
Faeryl cried out, backing away and clasping her bloody cheek. She began to tremble, remembering all the terrible things Jeggred had done to her. She cowered from the towering fiend, folding herself into the comer, as the draegloth glared down at her. He did not raise a hand to strike her further.
Quenthel stepped up beside the demon, wrapped her hands lovingly around his arm, and smiled at the imprisoned drow.
«You know, Faeryl,» the Mistress of the Academy purred, «You're actually right.»
Faeryl only blinked at Quenthel, terror in her eyes.
«You said before that I couldn't leave you here. Sadly, it's true. There's no telling what other spells you might still have tucked away in that clever little mind of yours.
Jeggred, my pet, repay her for the things she did to us. Take your time. . enjoy the moment.»
Quenthel strolled out of the room, along with Ryld, but Pharaun remained, as did Halisstra and Danifae.
Faeryl's first scream rang in Pharaun's ears, echoing in the small cell. The draegloth had not yet touched the ambassador, but as the wizard watched, smiling, Jeggred moved closer. Her screams rose in pitch, and they were suddenly silenced as Jeggred casually reached out with one large clawed hand and grasped her by the neck, just beneath the collar she wore, cutting off her air. Madly, Faeryl began to flail at the fiend, but he easily lifted her up and extended his arm out fully, so that the naked drow's feet rose off the floor, kicking at the air. She pummeled feebly at the draegloth's arms, and just as she was fading, Jeggred released her, watching as she crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. Before she could fully regain her breath, he reached down and poked a single claw up under her chin.
Pharaun saw that the talon penetrated deep into the soft tissue, probably through the dark elf's tongue, pinning her mouth shut. Faeryl squealed in pain, but it was a muffled cry. She reached up to try to pull the fiend's hand away, but he slowly, relentlessly began to lift her, forcing her to scrabble to her feet, clinging to his arm with both her hands to support her weight and keep the talon from plunging deeper, penetrating the roof of her mouth. Higher and higher the draegloth lifted, until at last Faeryl was on her tiptoes, frantically trying to lift herself off this impaling spike by her arms alone, tears streaming down her face.
Jeggred merely held her there, watching her squirm, using his two smaller hands to caress the ambassador. He brought his other hand up and flicked a claw across her exposed throat, slicing through her vocal chords.
With blood streaming from the gash in her neck, her red eyes wild with terror, Faeryl tried to scream, but all that issued from her was a muffled, wet gurgle. Jeggred laughed and let her dangle, unable to cry out at all.
Danifae and Halisstra turned away, but whether satisfied or disturbed at the fiend's display of ruthlessness, Pharaun was not sure. He was the only one who remained in the cell, and he couldn't draw his eyes away from the scene before him.
