R.A. Salvatore's War of the Spider Queen: Dissolution, Insurrection, Condemnation (76 page)

In a flash of bluish light, Valas was stepping through a dimensional doorway, and as the one named Danifae turned to face the point where the scout had been standing only a heartbeat earlier, the Bregan D’aerthe scout was behind her, one hand gripping her wrist tightly where she held her morning star, the other hand holding a kukri at the line where her jawbone faded into her graceful neck. Though she was several inches taller than the scout, Valas was easily able to keep her overbalanced by shifting his hip under hers and levering her up off her feet.

Danifae’s eyes bulged wide as she realized she’d been outmaneuvered, and she flailed about helplessly for a moment or two until she grasped that the blade was at her neck, at which point she froze.

“Lay them down,” Ryld said to both drow females, gesturing to their weapons with his greatsword. “To the floor, nice and quietly.”

The Melarn daughter gasped in surprise at Valas’s maneuver, narrowed her eyes, and took half a step toward her companion. When she realized she was outmatched, she sighed and settled her mace to the floor at her feet. Danifae sagged a bit in Valas’s grasp and relinquished her weapon to the other female, who set that down as well.

“Excellent!” Pharaun said as Ryld kicked the two weapons safely away. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

“You could have trusted us,” the daughter spat. “We gave you no reason not to.”

Pharaun laughed out loud. Ryld stifled a chuckle of his own, and Valas, who released Danifae but kept his kukri carefully placed in the small of her back, was grinning behind her.

“You are a dark elf,” the wizard said finally, regaining his composure. “That alone is enough for me not to trust you, but beyond that, if you think we’re going to trust anyone in this cursed city, you’re the biggest fool I’ve met in a while. Yet, I am not completely uninterested in negotiating, so you may still get a chance to redeem yourself. You can start by answering my questions. Who are you, and what is the nature of this information?”

The Melarn daughter grimaced but finally answered, “I am Halisstra Melarn, as you have surmised by now, I’m sure. This is Danifae, my personal servant. What I meant was, your friend the high priestess and her demon companion aren’t dead.”

Pharaun felt his eyes bulge at this revelation. He heard both Ryld and Valas breathe in sharply.

“Really,” the mage said, trying to sound offhand as he regained his composure, “and how would you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen them,” Danifae, still locked in Valas’s grip, answered.

“Apparently,” Halisstra said, “Ssipriina Zauvirr simply told everyone that the priestess was dead so that there would be no demands for her side of the story. They probably
should
have killed them, but I guess Faeryl had other plans for her.”

At the mention of the ambassador, Pharaun tilted his head.

“You know Faeryl Zauvirr?” he asked.

“Yes,” Halisstra replied, “I know her. We grew up together. Since our Houses have—or rather,
had
—a business relationship, her mother and mine spent quite a bit of time together. She might very well be with the Baenre priestess right now. I suspect she’s torturing them both.”

“Is that so?” Pharaun asked.

Ryld, who still had his greatsword trained on the two females, snorted, “Why does that not surprise me?”

“I wonder how the esteemed high priestess managed to get herself caught in the first place?” Pharaun pondered aloud.

“It was an ambush,” Halisstra said. “When they were at a Black Claw Mercantile storehouse. Faeryl was in on it, I guess. Her mother met them there with a host of guards who subdued the high priestess and the demon that was with them. They claim they had to kill my mother, who was trying to escape, though now I wonder if she truly is dead.”

“Well now,” Pharaun said, even more intrigued than before, “some things are beginning to make more sense. Now I know why Faeryl was being so agreeable during the trip here. She wanted Quenthel to go to the storehouse. It was their plan to take Quenthel all along.”

“Not just Quenthel, but all of you,” said Halisstra. “I’m guessing she intended to capture all of you at once, but when you didn’t appear at the storehouse with the others she had to amend her plan. She’d be quite pleased, I’m sure, if you were all dead.”

“Yes,” the mage said wryly, “we were informed of that very fact not an hour ago. Needless to say, we weren’t too keen on the idea, ourselves.”

“So where’s Mistress Baenre?” Ryld demanded. “We’re going to find her and leave. You can help us or join everyone else who’s gotten in our way thus far.”

Halisstra looked appraisingly at the warrior.

“What is it you expect to accomplish by finding her?” she asked.

“We’re going to get her out of here, and we’re going to go find—”

“Weapons Master Argith,” Pharaun interrupted, pulling the warrior to the side where they could talk privately. “I’m not sure that’s really the wisest course of action. We need to get out of here before the whole House falls down, don’t you agree?”

“And leave the Mistress of the Academy here?” Ryld countered. “We should try to find her.”

Pharaun looked questioningly at his companion and asked, “Why in the Underdark would we do that?”

Ryld’s eyes flashed in anger.

“You may be eager to be rid of her, wizard,” he said, “but I am not.”

“Oh?” Pharaun replied, growing hot himself. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were sweet on the high priestess. Have you forgotten so soon her disdain for you?”

“Whatever your own ambitions are, I still serve the task I was given by Matron Mother Baenre and the rest of the High Council. Quenthel still plays a large part in that, and I have no desire to betray Menzoberranzan herself to suit my own personal vendettas.”

Another shock wave tore through House Melarn, and Pharaun was forced to rise into the air to keep his balance.

“Can we argue about this later?” Valas interjected, still gripping Danifae as the two of them tried to maintain their balance. “I agree with Ryld, at least for the moment. We may yet need Quenthel, who is still our best connection to the Dark Mother, and the only one who can tell us if we’re succeeding in reconnecting with Lolth. If we do find Tzirik, it may behoove us to have her there.”

Pharaun sighed, chagrinned that he had raised his voice enough to be overheard.

“Very well,” he said. “We will attempt to find her before we depart, but remember what I said. If the House falls down around our ears, I will personally blame both of you.”

He smiled, hoping a little levity would ease the tensions. Ryld still scowled but nodded curtly once the decision was made.

Another rumbling shock wave rocked House Melarn and forced everyone to shift their feet in order to keep their balance. Halisstra looked around with no small level of concern in her eyes.

“If you want to find your high priestess, then let me take you to her,” she said. “Danifae and I have no quarrel with you, as I admitted before, and everything I’ve told you thus far is the truth. We have no allies here, and neither do you. Joining together could be mutually beneficial.”

“All right,” Pharaun said. “We’ll suppose for the moment that we’re going to trust you to take us to her. It will make our chances of getting out of here in one piece markedly better, but just to make certain you don’t consider trying anything, shall we say, troublesome, I think Danifae here will accompany us with her arms bound behind her. Valas and I will keep a good eye on her while you and Ryld keep to the front.”

Danifae’s eyes widened the slightest bit in protest at the suggestion, but Halisstra nodded after only a moment’s consideration.

“Very well,” she agreed. “We’ll do it your way—for now. First, you must do something for me. You must answer a question, if you can. What is the state of things out on the streets? I have not had a chance to find out for myself since the shock waves began.”

Pharaun shrugged helplessly.

“I fear I cannot tell you with any degree of accuracy,” he said. “You were in the audience chamber when the attacks began and heard the warning cry. These duergar appear to be organized, though. My suspicion is that someone else, someone powerful, is behind them.”

Halisstra looked sharply at the wizard and asked, “What gives you that impression?”

“The blasts we’re feeling are due to incendiary alchemy. We encountered similar destruction back home recently. Whoever is supplying the duergar with them may be associated with the forces we dealt with in Menzoberranzan, and I will warn you now, the stone does indeed burn. We will be at risk as long as we remain inside your House.”

Halisstra looked fearful, but she nodded in thanks.

“Then the sooner I can get you what you want, the sooner we can get outside and find out for sure. Danifae, I want you to comply with their instructions. Do you understand me?”

With a small sigh, the other drow female nodded.

“Yes, Mistress,” she answered then moved over so that Valas could use a length of cord to bind her hands securely behind her back.

“Wonderful. It’s nice to see how we’re all getting along so well together,” Pharaun said. “Now, Halisstra Melarn, why don’t you lead the way?”

“Before I do, allow me to help you in a more immediate way. Let me heal your injuries.”

Pharaun glanced over at Ryld, who subtly shook his head, frowning. Shrugging, the wizard decided to ignore his companion’s concerns. His face hurt where the acid had burned him.

“All right,” he answered, “you can tend to me. But if this is a trick, my two compatriots here will see to it that it never happens again.”

“I understand,” Halisstra said. “I’m just going to pull a wand out, so please don’t get jumpy, all right?”

Pharaun nodded and waited as the daughter of Drisinil Melarn produced the wand and utilized it. The mage immediately felt the effects of the divine magic and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he said.

Quickly enough, Halisstra similarly healed both Ryld and Valas.

“There . . . you see?” she said, tucking the wand away again. “We really are on your side.”

“Indeed,” Pharaun replied noncommittally. “We’ll just develop the trust slowly, I think. If you please?” he said, gesturing down the hallway.

Halisstra eyed the wizard for a moment, as if assessing whether or not she was making a mistake, then turned and set off down the corridor. Ryld walked close by her side, Splitter hovering protectively close to her.

Aliisza was not certain exactly when the battle outside the noble House had gotten so out of hand, but it was clearly becoming a major engagement, drawing the attention of the entire city.

Sitting on the edge of a building that hung off the side of a web street several street levels above the raging combat, her feet dangling off into space, she watched anxiously as yet another wave of goblins and kobolds crashed into the ranks of duergar positioned around the spacious structure.

The alu wasn’t sure why she felt worry over the outcome of the clash. Oh, she understood well enough that she actually felt concern for Pharaun’s well-being. She just didn’t understand why she did. She wouldn’t have imagined that she would care at all for the drow, and indeed her feelings were nothing close to true affection. Still, she found him clever and amusing, and she had enjoyed her time with him earlier in the day.

I guess I’m just not through with him, she decided. So she waited and watched, wondering if he was going to get out alive. She knew he might have managed to transport himself and his two companions someplace else by means of an extradimensional doorway or similar magic. That was the most likely possibility, actually, and she doubted he was still inside. For some reason, though, she felt compelled to stay and watch. Something in the back of her mind told her that the wizard was still there.

At least the battle is interesting, Aliisza mused.

The gray dwarves had soundly defeated the initial force of drow, pinning the dark elves between the two lines of attackers like steel caught between hammer and anvil. The dark elves were flattened and slaughtered in a matter of moments. Some lucky few had managed to get inside the front door of the manse, but the duergar were in the process of battering that down. Aliisza doubted the portal would hold much longer.

Beyond the walls of the estate, more drow marched to relieve the siege or perhaps to gain their fair share of the spoils. Arriving quickly, driving slave troops before them, the new force was larger than the duergar’s, and the gray dwarves found their position reversed, defending the house rather than attacking it. Though the goblins and kobolds outnumbered the duergar by a substantial ratio, they were no match for the gray dwarves’ battle tactics and incendiary pots. Three times, the drow had forced their army of lesser beings to assault the walls, and three times they had been repulsed, suffering heavy casualties.

Aliisza understood the tactic all too well, though. The duergar were forced to expend magic to defend themselves, and the drow were happy to sacrifice their shock troops in exchange for draining the gray dwarves’ reserves of magic. They were only slaves, after all. A few more waves, and perhaps the duergar would begin to break.

The only problem, Aliisza realized, was that the duergar had utilized such a large quantity of the incendiary clay pots that most of the plaza was burning. The air was getting thick with smoke, and the drow were forced to stay back from the spreading conflagration. In several places, the palatial house was burning too, and Aliisza wondered how much damage the building could sustain before it began to break apart. Though she knew the stone-shaping forces used to build the city had made the web streets and their attached structures as strong as steel, the abode was still precariously perched. If enough of the stone burned, the whole house might break away.

That would be a sight to see.

Aliisza spotted a commotion down a side street, not far from the plaza where the bulk of the fighting had been taking place. There were a handful of drow there, but little else. The alu supposed they might have been a scouting or screening force.