She raised her hand. "Don'ou may also have observed the spiders graven—"t agitate yourself, Captain. I mean you no harm.
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We're just two Menzoberranyr idly chatting, passing the time it takesfellows to open the gate." your that now that I've seen you up close, I can't allow themto do that.""I regret, my lady,shout the orderHe took two careful steps back, retreating beyond her reach, then pivoted to .
Talindra'Faeryl stopped him dead by displaying a gaudy ruby brooch, formerly s property.
"I said you were an intelligent lad, Captain Filifar, but I don't believe you're a prosperous one. Ystuff." ou wear no jewelry, and your clothing is made of common
"You're right, milady. Fortune hasn't favored me."
It can.
Faeryl brought out one ornament after anotherstolen from the Ousstyls and her own legitim , the jewels her retainers had ate treasure as well. She filled her lap with them and laid the surplus on the pale, luminous rim of the driftdisc."Here's enough wealth to improve your luck and that of your minions as well ".
Filifar hesitated before saying, "My lady, I was told that Matron Triel herselfwishes you detained. It's no light matter to cross the Baenre."
"Just say the Zauvirr didn't pass through
this
gate, or if they did, you didn't recognize them. No one will know any different."
He rem
He jerked his head in a nod. "Right. Why not, curse it?"
oved his
piwafwi
Some of the soldiers noticed what their cto use as a makeshift bag and swept the jewelry in. aptain was doing and scurried over toinvestigate.Once the gate was well behind her
, Faeryl abandoned the driftdisc. The stately conveyance was just too slow. She and her part)" quick-marched on through the mostly unimoutposts and adamantine mines, makiproved passages at the fringe of Menzoberranyr territory, past hunters'Faeryl realized she was grinning. It was ng for the genuine wilderness beyond.absurd, really. She'd just surrendered aqueen's ransom in gems, Triel would send troops after her, and she was all but certain some dire peril lay ahead, but somehow, for the moment, none of it going hommattered. Faeryl had outwitted her foes and finally, after fourteen years, she was e.The fugitives rounded a bend, and dark figures seemed to flow from the tunnel walls just ahead. The Zauvirr turned to run. Somehow, the shadows were behind them as well.
wilderness beyond. He could On the fringe of Menzoberranyr t
erritory
feel its vast and labyrinthine spaces and hear its ,
Valas Hune could sense the genuine
pregnant silences. He could smell and taste its variahimself si tions of rock and imagined
mply slipping away into that limitless world.
As fancies went, his wasn't entirely absurd. Most dark elves feared to travel the Underdark except in armed convoys, and with good reason. Th
ey, however
l ,acked the abilities he'd spent decades developing, survival skills that made him
one of the finest scouts in Menzoberranzan.
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the subterranean world alone. He reIndeed, the small, wiry male in the rugged outdoorsman
's
lished the wonders, the quiet, and the garb liked traversing freedom. Sometimes, when he'd
the striving, conniving existence of idled in camp his fellow drowtoo long, he felt he preferred it to Menzoberranzan notwithstanding. He yearned for an errand th, the luxuries of at would take hi
m
out into the wilderness, and played with the notion of simply running away.He heard the Zauvirr coming and put the dream aside. Like it or not, his
mission this day wasn't to explore the wild. It was to direct his company, fellow
mercenaries of Bregan D'
That was the theory aerthe, in the taking of Faeryl Zauvirr and her retainers., anyway. In point of fact, he didn't have to give any moreorders. No doubt the warriors of Ched Nasad were com
petent fighters in their own right, but when the sell swords sw
arme
entirely by surprise, then proceeded to cut themd out of hiding, they caught them down with murderous efficiency.Once V
alas was certain his band would be victorious, he started searching for
Faeryl herself. His smallness and natural agility enabled himthrough the fury of battle without harm to thread his way
.
one of his comHe found the princess at the center of the carnage. She'd just finished killing mand. The dead male's br
of her basalt-headed war ham ains and bloody hair adhered to one end mer.
"Ambassador," Va
She answered with a curse. He didn'las called. "I have orders to take you alive, if possible."t blame her for that. In her place, he
wouldn't want to be delivered alive to Matron Baenre, either.
He hefted one of his matched pair of kukris—vicious curved daggers— and
fingered a little brass ovoid, one of maHe'd collected the amulets and brooches ny trinkets adorning his tunic and cloak.from races and civilizations acr
oss the
Underdark. Fashioned according to alien aesthetics, most of the ornaments were ugly and uncouth to dark elf eyes, but he hadn't acquired them for their
appearance, nor were they merely souvenirs. Each contained a different enchantm
ent.
Three images, exact facsimiles of himself, flickered into existence around him.
He edged toward Faeryl, and the phantoms came with him.She stared fiercely
, obviously trying to pick out the real Valas from the false. It didn't help. When she swung, she struck at the image on his left.
The illusion vanished on contact, and at the samecouldn' instant, he sprang. She
t come back on guard in time to fend him off. He hooked a leg behind her
went limand threw her to the ground, then kicked her repeatedly in the head until she p.
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C h a p t e r
S I X T E E N
Laughter echoed through the candlelit corridors of Arach-Tfrowned. She'd been expecting something to happen, eagerly anticipinilith. Quenthel ating it, in fact.
What she wasn't expecting was an explosion of mirth, and she couldn'it meant. t guess what quite as reluctant as they had the night beShe strode forward, and her patrol followed behind. They seemfore. The fate of Drisinil, Med edgy, but not olvayas, andfavor of Lolth, at least to the samthe rest of the plotters had convinced the survivors that Quenthel still enjoyed the e dubious extent as the rest ofthe stricken clergy.The laughter rang on and on until at last the searchers found the source. Hunchedover, her shoulders shaking, a novice knelt before one of the smaller altars of the goddess. Steady despite the paroxysmsgraceful calligraphy on the floor. Quenthel of glee, her index finger painted lines of couldn't make out what the girl was in a paint pot. She'using for pigment until she lifted her hand to her face like an artist dipping a brush im d gouged her eyes out, another seeming handicap that didn't
The m
pair her writing.
istress stepped close enough to inspect the lines of blood. For all her erudition, she couldn't read the characters, but she could feel the power in them. They pulled at her and repelled her at the same time, as if they mispirit, or a piece of it, out of her body ght yank her .She wrenched her eyes away from the symbols and swung her whip. The viperscracked into the eyeless female's back, their venomous fangs tore into her, andshe collapsed, dead or merely insensible. Quenthel didn'"What was she writing, Mistress?" Jyslin asked. t particularly care which.
"I don't know," Quenthel admitted, sm
"something in one of the secret tongues of the Abyss. Scribing it mearing the glyphs with her toe, ay have been away of casting a spell, so I made sure she wouldn't finish.""What was wrong with her?" Minolin asked.y-Branche had not, as expected, turnedout to be one of the traitors.Quenthel was still surprised that the Fe