Spider and Stone

CHAPTER NINE

GUALLIDURTH, THE UNDERDARK

22 UKTAR

"I’ve received reports of the army’s progress taking Iltkazar’s outposts,” the mistress mother said to the assembled wizards. “The attacks are proceeding far too slowly. I expected you to work with the soldiers to have a path cleared to their main gate by the end of the tenday. At this rate, it’ll be midsummer before we’re at the city heart!”

“We have provided aid wherever we were called, Mistress.” Levriin Soltif cast a sharp glance behind him, as if to quell any protestations or denials before they rose to the lips of his fellow wizards.

Oh no, Fizzri thought. Let your dogs speak, Levriin. I’ll enjoy ripping out their tongues.

“Ah, well, perhaps the Spider Queen’s faith in your power was misplaced, Levriin,” Fizzri said sweetly. “You would not be the first of the faithful to be tested and found lacking.”

She saw the effort it took for Levriin to hold his tongue and chuckled to herself. She hadn’t expected the elder to lose his patience so quickly.

“Perhaps,” Levriin said in a controlled voice, “my mistress is anxious to hear news of her lost scout, and that is why she pushes the armies so hard to break down Iltkazar’s walls. In which case, I perfectly understand your concern but advise you not to act rashly and jeopardize the success of the attack.”

For a breath, silence reigned in the chamber. Fizzri stared at Levriin so long and so hard that the other wizards shifted uncomfortably in their places, but most kept their eyes on the ground. The mistress mother felt a stinging pain in her hand. She looked down and saw a trail of blood dripping off an exposed piece of crystal at the edge of the padded bench where she sat. She’d been clutching the sharp crystal so hard, it had punctured her skin.

“What news of Zollgarza?” she said, rising and fixing Levriin with a cold glance. “I assume you’ve learned something, else you wouldn’t have spoken.”

Levriin shook his head. “Forgive me, Mistress. There has been no news.”

Fizzri came down the steps from the bench and stood before the wizard. The rest of the males had drawn closer to their master. Was it out of fear, or were they preparing to strike at her if she used her scourge on Levriin? Excitement threaded through her veins at that prospect.

“Forgive you?” Blood dripped down her palm, staining the ring she wore on her index finger. She twisted it, flexing her fingers against the sticky warmth. “What shall I forgive you for, Levriin?”

The wizard opened his mouth but, perhaps sensing a trap, closed it again and stared straight ahead.

“Please, Levriin, don’t fall silent on me, especially when you spoke so eloquently just now,” Fizzri said. “Shall I forgive you for failing to clear a path for my army into Iltkazar? Will I forgive you for questioning my strategy of attack? Shall I show you mercy for suggesting that I am not capable of carrying it out?” The last words she spoke in a whisper against Levriin’s ear.

“Mistress, I meant no disrespect,” the wizard said, but he couldn’t quite hide the derision in his voice. “I serve the Spider Queen’s will, as do we all.”

“You presume to know Lolth’s will!” Fizzri shouted in the wizard’s ear. Levriin flinched, and Fizzri backhanded him, leaving her blood on his face. “The next time you question, the next time you close your eyes to pray, consider my words carefully, Levriin. When you open your eyes, you will have gained a new understanding of your place in the Spider Queen’s hierarchy.”

Levriin’s features twisted, betraying an ugly, hateful expression. He wiped the blood from his face but kept his hands suspended in the air. He was a breath away from casting, Fizzri realized, a breath away from beginning a duel that would irrevocably shift the power balance in Guallidurth.

Fizzri felt a tingling sensation at her index finger as the ring’s magic activated. Her call had been answered.

The wizards gathered behind Levriin saw them first. Five sets of double doors led from the mistress mother’s private audience chamber. Four of these connected to antechambers used by the highest-ranking priestesses of Fizzri’s House. Simultaneously, these four sets of doors opened, and four priestesses stepped through.

Two of these were drow females of unearthly beauty. The other two were blind, their empty eye sockets gaping and red with infections never fully healed. Thick chains looped around their hands, chains connected to the collars of two enormous spiders. The doorways were only just wide enough to accommodate the tumors sprouting from the spiders’ deformed, hulking bodies. Mindlinked to their slaves, the females let the monsters guide their steps. They never faltered.

Priestesses and spiders converged on the center of the room in an instant, surrounding the wizards. None spoke, but those priestesses who still had their eyes looked to their mistress for instruction. Levriin and his fellows remained silent, but Fizzri stood close enough to see the elder wizard’s chest rising and falling rapidly.

“What are they?” he exclaimed at last.

“Once this city threatened to dissolve into civil war, Levriin,” Fizzri cooed, like a mother to a child. “Those were dark times. Guallidurth grew weaker instead of stronger because no single power could dominate over the others. Do you remember that time, Levriin?”

“I remember,” Levriin said quietly. “The blind priestesses-I know their names-”

“They no longer have names,” Fizzri interrupted. “I stripped their names and identities from them the day I took their eyes. After that, they, and these others”-she nodded to the silent females whose eyes tracked her every movement-“who were once the leaders of six rival Houses, swore an oath to unite under the snake-headed scourge and follow my leadership. Do you know why they did this, Levriin-why they gave up their own ambitions to follow me? They stood where you do now, and made the choice themselves.”

“Six of them?” Levriin said, swallowing. “There are only four here. Where are the others?”

Fizzri ignored the question. “I know what you must be thinking, but it wasn’t to preserve their lives that they swore the oath. They did it because I showed them the truth.”

“What truth is that?” Levriin said. He held his hands at his sides, the wizards forming a close knot of protection around him, but he had to know it was hopeless. There were enough deadly enchantments in this room to distract him and his fellows long enough for the priestesses to close in.

“That Lolth requires them to submit,” Fizzri said. “For the good of all, some must submit. The handmaiden of Lolth brought those words to the six rivals from the goddess’s mouth. When four of Lolth’s daughters resisted, I pointed at them and condemned their lack of faith. The yochlol responded by ripping out their eyes. When two still refused to submit, the yochlol transformed them.”

Levriin stared at the tumor-ridden spiders in horror. The blind priestesses tugged gently on their chains, and the creatures bent their eight spindly legs in imitation of a bow. Fizzri watched Levriin’s expression rapturously, the moment when he recognized the two twisted human faces staring blindly from the spiders’ distended bodies.

“They are abominations,” Levriin said in a trembling voice. “They should not live.”

“Maimed and full of despair, they reached out to me, mewling creatures, and I touched them.” Fizzri stepped toward Levriin and reached out her hand. The wizard kept his composure, letting her stroke his bloodstained cheek with the tips of her fingers. “They felt the power and favor of the goddess within me,” Fizzri said. “Repentant, they swore the oath. They have been mine ever since, and their faith has never been shaken. Do you believe in the goddess that much, Levriin? When the time comes, will you commit yourself so fully to her cause? Or do you still think this is about raising your status, male above female?”

Fizzri dropped her hand and returned to her seat on the bench. She felt calmer now, and the pain in her hand was barely noticeable, though the blood had left a wide, dripping stain on her gown. One by one, the priestesses withdrew from the chamber, but the smell of the abominations lingered in the room, mingling with the copper reek of Fizzri’s blood.

“Now,” the mistress said, as if nothing eventful had occurred, “let us discuss the nature of the attacks on the dwarven outposts and how your magic might clear us a path to the city. Perhaps we might speak in private?” she added with a pointed glance at the wizards.

Levriin exchanged a look with the others and nodded. They, too, filed out of the chamber by the fifth set of doors, keeping well clear of the entrances to the antechambers. When they were gone, Levriin bowed.

“Speak, Mistress,” he said. “I will listen.”

Fizzri smiled. Listen, not obey. It was a start.