Forgotten Realms Anthologies 04 Realms of the Underdark

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thrust out both knives in a distinctive position: one high, one low, both slightly offset. The higher knife
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descended even as the lower knife rose, catching one of the spider's hooked mandibles between them.
As the two contacted, the Dagger of Menzoberra flashed with violet radiance. The stone mandible
shattered to dust. The jade spider reared back, emitting a piercing wail of pain.
So amazed was Zak that he nearly let down his guard. A leg swiped at him, and he renewed his
onslaught even as he glanced again at Drizzt. The motion had been crude and clumsy, but there could be
no doubt. It was the torque vise. Zak had performed the move a thousand times himself on his enemies.
But it was his signature trick. He had never taught it to another. How was it that this young boy seemed
to have known by instinct just how to perform it?
Then the truth hit Zak. Of course. Why had he not seen it before? Drizzt's spirit, his instinctive skill with
weapons, the light of defiance in his strange lavender eyes . . . Malice had lied to him eleven years ago.
This was no child of Rizzen's.
"My son . . ." Zak breathed in wonder.
The third jade spider was recovering. Even a blow from the Dagger of Menzoberra had not been
enough to keep it at bay for long. Drizzt had the instinct of a fighter, but he lacked the experience. That
first blow had been lucky. The second might not be.
Zak launched a furious attack at the jade spiders, driving them back for a moment. He jerked open the
door of a side chamber and pushed a surprised Drizzt inside.
"Lock the door, Drizzt!" he shouted. "And don't open it until I tell you!"
Drizzt shook his head in protest. "But I want to help you fight!"
This was no time to be soft with the boy. "That's an order!" Zak snarled. "Do it!"
Drizzt hung his head, his expression wounded, then nodded, shutting the door to the side chamber. Zak
waited to hear the heavy lock slide into place. Satisfied, he turned to engage his foes. The three jade
spiders had recovered and scuttled toward him as one. A fierce grin spread across Zak's dusky visage as
he raised his swords. He had something to fight for now.
"Come on, you magical vermin," he growled, and the jade spiders did.
Chapter Twelve: Dagger Bearer
"Hello, Drizzt Do'Urden," spoke a sultry voice.
Gasping in surprise, Drizzt spun around. At first the small storeroom appeared empty. Then the shadows
unfolded before him. He blinked and found he was not alone after all.
She was the most beautiful drow lady he had ever seen. Her skin was as dark as onyx and as radiant as
faerie fire, and her bone-white hair fell over her smooth shoulders in a single lustrous wave. She was clad
in a trailing gown of what seemed thick black velvet. Her deep red lips parted in a small smile, revealing
pearl-white teeth. Most remarkable of all were her eyes. They were purple, just like Drizzt's own.
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Muffled but clear, Drizzt heard the sounds of battle outside the door. "I should be out there, helping
him," he protested. "I'm going to be a warrior one day, you know."
The lady laughed-clear water on dark stone. "Oh, yes. I know. But your place right now is here, Dagger
Bearer."
Drizzt gazed at the ornate dagger in his grip. Its purple gem winked back like a secret eye. He looked up
at the lady.
"How do you know me?" he demanded.
"I know many things," she replied. A breath of wind seemed to ripple the fabric of her gown, but Drizzt
had felt no breeze. With a start he realized the truth. It was her dress itself that was moving. The gown
was not fashioned of black velvet, but of tiny spiders, each clinging to another, weaving a living fabric.
Drizzt licked his lips. "I'm not. . . I'm not afraid of spiders, you know."
"Truly?" Her smile deepened, a perilous expression. "Then come closer, child."
The lady in the dress of spiders raised a slender arm, beckoning him, and Drizzt could not resist her
power.
Chapter Thirteen: The Favor of Lloth
Matron Malice strode down the corridor toward the sounds of commotion, furious someone had dared
disturb her celebration. Curious-or hoping to see blood-much of the feasting party followed in her wake,
including, to her chagrin, Matron Baenre. Malice could only hope whatever she found would not
embarrass her in front of the powerful matron of Menzoberranzan's First House.
Her hopes were dashed when she rounded a corner and took in the scene before her. A mixture of
emotions crashed through Malice: astonishment, rage, and an inexplicable feeling of... exultation.
The three jade spiders had him cornered. One of his swords had been knocked from his hand, and the
other was broken a foot from the hilt. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. One jade spider he
could have handled with ease, two with difficulty. But even for him, three was too much. They closed in
for the kill.
"Is that not your weapons master, Matron Malice?" a voice croaked in her ear. Matron Baenre.
Malice shook her head in confusion. "No . . . yes. I mean ... he was, but I..."
"Make up your mind, Sister," Baenre crooned in a mocking voice.
Anger cleared Malice's clouded mind. She would not be made a fool in her own house. Not by her
intractable weapons master. Not even by Matron Baenre herself. She raised her voice in command.
"Stop!"
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At once the jade spiders heeded her order. The ensorcelled creatures retreated, then folded themselves
up, inanimate stone once more. Zaknafein leaned against the wall, chest heaving, clutching a small wound
in his side. Briza's jaw dropped at the sight of the condemned weapons master, but for once she
remembered to keep silent, as did the other members of the household. All held their breath as Malice
approached him.
"How?" Her voice was flint: cool, hard, with a spark to its edge. "How did you survive the ceremony of
transformation in the Cavern of the Lost?"
A roguish gleam touched Zaknafein's eyes. He bared his bloody teeth in a sardonic grin. "What can I
say? Lloth's favor shone upon me."
It was a lie. They both knew it. But Malice did not dare probe deeper. He would only defy her, and she
did not wish to reveal her lack of control over him in front of Matron Baenre. No one should have to
suffer such a willful male. Whatever feelings for Zaknafein still burned in her heart, they were eclipsed at
that moment by the dark blot of her outrage.
"If you are so favored by Lloth, you will be glad if I send you to her side in the Abyss!" Malice cried.
She plucked a spider-shaped dagger from between her breasts and held it aloft.
To her astonishment, Zak did not resist. "As you wish, Matron Mother." He bowed his head before her,
presenting her with his bare neck.
Malice hesitated, regarding the weapons master in suspicion. What was Zaknafein up to?
"It is your right to take my life," Zak went on. "Of course, I do happen to know where the Dagger of
Menzoberra is at this very moment."
Malice drew in a hissing breath. So that was his game. Well, she would not be taken in by his trickery.
"Prove it," she snapped. "Or die."
"Very well."
Zak stood and opened a side door. All gasped as a small form stumbled out, lavender eyes vague and
distant.
"Drizzt?" Malice snarled at this increasingly bizarre charade. "What does the boy have to do with this?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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