War of the Spider Queen 2 - Insurrection (22 page)

Lumbering to its feet again, the half-giant began striding purposefully toward them, gripping its war axe with both hands. Almost as one, the drow turned and fled to the side of the street, leaping over the edge and drifting downward into the smoky vastness below.
At almost the same moment, the street shifted, tilting sideways, and the half-giant stumbled toward the edge. Aliisza watched as the massive humanoid looked around wildly, trying to find out why its footing had grown precarious so suddenly. She saw, too, that the fire it had started with its incendiary pots had already burned through a significant portion of the calcified webbing that was the street, and it was coming apart. The other end had already been weakened by the impact from the rubble, and a whole section of thoroughfare shifted and groaned. The alu knew it wouldn't remain together for much longer.
Amazingly, the half-giant ran toward the fire, taking great, lumbering strides that shook the crumbling roadway and caused chunks of it to fall away from the fiery crack. As the entire path shuddered and snapped free, tipping downward, hinged where the pile of slag had dropped on it earlier, the creature leaped, crossing the distance, passing through the roiling flames. Aliisza's mouth dropped in amazement. The half-giant cleared the flames, reaching the other side, landing with a mammoth thump that made the projecting end of the street that was still intact quiver and bounce.
Behind the half-giant, the falling piece of street went tumbling down into the darkness below, eventually landing somewhere with a thunderous boom. Ahead of the towering humanoid, three drow stood staring at the hulking creature, mouths agape. Even from her vantage point, Aliisza could see that the half-giant smiled as it advanced. It raised its war axe and plodded forward. The wizard panicked and turned to flee, leaving only two soldiers to face the creature. Surprisingly, they turned as one to meet the advancing half-giant. One of the two took a tentative step forward, measuring where and how he would attack, when he was shoved hard from behind by his companion, who turned and retreated.
The first drow stumbled, off-balance, right into the path of the half-giant. Aliisza smirked. The fleeing dark elf was sacrificing his partner so that he could escape.
Raising its war axe, the half-giant prepared to cleave the sprawled male in half. Desperately, the dark elf raised his long sword and rammed it into the half-giant's stomach.
The creature roared, arching its back, and its downward swing went awry, biting through the drow's arm instead of his torso. The dark elf screamed as the half-giant fell forward, collapsing on him and driving the sword deeper into itself.
The soldier had dealt the killing blow, Aliisza realized, as the half-giant lay on top of him, unmoving. The boy cried out in pain. He was trapped, pinned beneath the half-giant's weight and with only one good arm to try to free himself.
"Ilphrim! Ilphrim, help me!" the drow cried out, but Ilphrim was long gone, and the fire burned closer.
Aliisza sighed. The battle had been particularly entertaining, but it appeared to be over, though the wounded drow pinned beneath the half-giant still squirmed occasionally. She considered his companion's treachery, pushing him into the path of the rampaging half-giant, to be very clever. She laughed quietly.
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 wizard's 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 Sorcere 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 Melarn's 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 corner, 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.