his face.
“It does seem a bit of pain, and a lot of trouble to go through,” Masoj admitted. “You have no family and will find no allies in Sorcere, since the Faceless One was so despised by the other masters.” He brought the crossbow up level with Alton’s eyes and fitted another poisoned dart. “Perhaps you would prefer death.”
“Get the acid!” Alton cried.
“To what end?” Masoj teased, waving the crossbow. “What have you to live for, Alton DeVir of No House Worth Mentioning?”
“Revenge,” Alton sneered, the sheer wrath of his tone setting the confident Masoj on his heels. “You have not learned this yet— though you will, my young student—but nothing in life gives more purpose than the hunger for revenge!”
Masoj lowered the bow and eyed the trapped drow with respect, almost fear. Still, the apprentice Hun’ett could not appreciate the gravity of Alton’s proclamation until Alton reiterated, this time with an eager smile on his face, “Get the acid.”
our cycles of Narbondel—four days—later, a glowing blue disk floated up the mushroom-lined stone path to the spider-covered gate of House Do’Urden. The sentries watched it from the windows of the two outer towers and from the compound as it hovered patiently three feet off the ground. Word came to the ruling family only seconds later.
“What can it be?” Briza asked Zaknafein when she, the weapons master, Dinin, and Maya assembled on the balcony of the upper level.
“A summons?” Zak asked as much as answered. “We will not know until we investigate.” He stepped up on the railing and out into the empty air, then levitated down to the compound floor. Briza motioned to Maya, and the youngest Do’Urden daughter followed Zak.
“It bears the standard of House Baenre,” Zak called up after he had moved closer. He and Maya opened the large gates, and the disk slipped in, showing no hostile movements.
“Baenre,” Briza repeated over her shoulder, down the house’s corridor to where Matron Malice and Rizzen waited.
“It seems that you are requested in audience, Matron Mother,” Dinin put in nervously.
Malice moved out to the balcony, and her husband obediently followed.
“Do they know of our attack?” Briza asked in the silent code, and every member of House Do’Urden, noble and commoner alike, shared that unpleasant thought. House DeVir had been eliminated only a few days before, and a calling card from the First Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan could hardly be viewed as a coincidence.
“Every house knows,” Malice replied aloud, not believing the silence to be a necessary precaution within the boundaries of her own complex. “Is the evidence against us so overwhelming that the ruling council will be forced to action?” She stared hard at Briza, her dark eyes alternating between the red glow of infravision and the deep green they showed in the aura of normal light. “That is the question we must ask.” Malice stepped up onto the balcony, but Briza grabbed the back of her heavy black robe to stay her.
“You do not mean to go with the thing?” Briza asked.
Malice’s answering look showed even more startlement. “Of course,” she replied. “Matron Baenre would not openly call upon me if she meant me harm. Even her power is not so great that she can ignore the tenets of the city.”
“You are certain that you will be safe?” Rizzen asked, truly concerned. If Malice was killed, Briza would take over the house, and Rizzen doubted that the eldest daughter would want any male by her side. Even if the vicious female did desire a patron, Rizzen would not want to be the one in that position. He was not Briza’s father, was not even as old as Briza. Clearly, the present patron of the house had a lot at stake in Matron Malice’s continued good health.
“Your concern touches me,” Malice replied, knowing her husband’s true fears. She pulled out of Briza’s grasp and stepped off the railing, straightening
“It does seem a bit of pain, and a lot of trouble to go through,” Masoj admitted. “You have no family and will find no allies in Sorcere, since the Faceless One was so despised by the other masters.” He brought the crossbow up level with Alton’s eyes and fitted another poisoned dart. “Perhaps you would prefer death.”
“Get the acid!” Alton cried.
“To what end?” Masoj teased, waving the crossbow. “What have you to live for, Alton DeVir of No House Worth Mentioning?”
“Revenge,” Alton sneered, the sheer wrath of his tone setting the confident Masoj on his heels. “You have not learned this yet— though you will, my young student—but nothing in life gives more purpose than the hunger for revenge!”
Masoj lowered the bow and eyed the trapped drow with respect, almost fear. Still, the apprentice Hun’ett could not appreciate the gravity of Alton’s proclamation until Alton reiterated, this time with an eager smile on his face, “Get the acid.”
our cycles of Narbondel—four days—later, a glowing blue disk floated up the mushroom-lined stone path to the spider-covered gate of House Do’Urden. The sentries watched it from the windows of the two outer towers and from the compound as it hovered patiently three feet off the ground. Word came to the ruling family only seconds later.
“What can it be?” Briza asked Zaknafein when she, the weapons master, Dinin, and Maya assembled on the balcony of the upper level.
“A summons?” Zak asked as much as answered. “We will not know until we investigate.” He stepped up on the railing and out into the empty air, then levitated down to the compound floor. Briza motioned to Maya, and the youngest Do’Urden daughter followed Zak.
“It bears the standard of House Baenre,” Zak called up after he had moved closer. He and Maya opened the large gates, and the disk slipped in, showing no hostile movements.
“Baenre,” Briza repeated over her shoulder, down the house’s corridor to where Matron Malice and Rizzen waited.
“It seems that you are requested in audience, Matron Mother,” Dinin put in nervously.
Malice moved out to the balcony, and her husband obediently followed.
“Do they know of our attack?” Briza asked in the silent code, and every member of House Do’Urden, noble and commoner alike, shared that unpleasant thought. House DeVir had been eliminated only a few days before, and a calling card from the First Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan could hardly be viewed as a coincidence.
“Every house knows,” Malice replied aloud, not believing the silence to be a necessary precaution within the boundaries of her own complex. “Is the evidence against us so overwhelming that the ruling council will be forced to action?” She stared hard at Briza, her dark eyes alternating between the red glow of infravision and the deep green they showed in the aura of normal light. “That is the question we must ask.” Malice stepped up onto the balcony, but Briza grabbed the back of her heavy black robe to stay her.
“You do not mean to go with the thing?” Briza asked.
Malice’s answering look showed even more startlement. “Of course,” she replied. “Matron Baenre would not openly call upon me if she meant me harm. Even her power is not so great that she can ignore the tenets of the city.”
“You are certain that you will be safe?” Rizzen asked, truly concerned. If Malice was killed, Briza would take over the house, and Rizzen doubted that the eldest daughter would want any male by her side. Even if the vicious female did desire a patron, Rizzen would not want to be the one in that position. He was not Briza’s father, was not even as old as Briza. Clearly, the present patron of the house had a lot at stake in Matron Malice’s continued good health.
“Your concern touches me,” Malice replied, knowing her husband’s true fears. She pulled out of Briza’s grasp and stepped off the railing, straightening
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