"I'm sorry, I thought our dear mother said 'train', not 'tame'!" T'risskacha said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. She and Zezdrin were standing in the corridor outside a closed and locked door.

"Calm down, T'riss," her brother said soothingly. "We'll figure out a way to deal with it. In the mean time, just relax and keep Pellanistra away from him."

"Keep her away from him? Do you know how hard it is to keep Pellanistra out of anything even vaguely resembling trouble?" the warrior said, burying her face in her hands. "She may be one of my favorite people in this world, but she's a handful. Still, he's chained up, and not even she's stupid enough to go near the growling brute. And we have to talk to the Matron today too. I think I'd rather chew off my own right hand than have any conversation with her right now."

"Avoiding her, then?" Zezdrin said wryly, walking down the hall beside his twin sister. "For as long as you can, anyway."

"Wouldn't you?"

Inside the room, Pellanistra sat just out of reach of the draegloth, watching him closely. Growling brute was actually a fairly accurate way to describe Adinar at first glance. The creature was huge and muscular, roughly humanoid with the shining onyx skin of a drow and a tangled mane of yellow-white hair. He didn't have a face per say, features turning into a snarling muzzle filled with sharp teeth. He jerked at the chains holding his four arms back—one larger pair capped with a set of powerfully claws, the other more slender pair coming to an end at thin hands and dexterous, pianist's fingers.

"Adinar," Pellanistra said gently. "That's your name, right?"

He stopped yanking on his restraints and snapping, cocking his head at her with a sort of wary caution. He growled low in his throat.

"You don't talk, do you?" the girl said calmly, stretching out on her stomach and putting her chin on her crossed arms. "But you understand me, when you stop long enough to listen. I'm not going to hurt you."

Adinar let out a keening sound low in his throat, sitting back on his haunches. His legs were odd too, more like a goat's than a human's but without the fur or hooves. Instead, they ended in feet with claws to match two of his hands. Pellanistra stretched out a hand to where he could reach it, saddened by the sound. The draegloth stretched forward, bumping his bestial nose against her fingertips.

"They hurt you, didn't they? And you don't like being chained. It's lonely here, isn't it?"

He nodded, feral eyes calming. Pellanistra sat up and scooted closer slowly until she was well within his reach. The draegloth didn't hurt her, letting her touch one of his delicate hands. He took hold of hers, examining it minutely with remarkable gentleness.

"I'm going to unlock the chains, okay? But you can't go running out the door or on another rampage—I don't want anyone to hurt you. T'risskacha doesn't either, though it's hard to tell. And you shouldn't snap at T'riss either, she wants to help you."

Adinar nodded, letting go of her hand. The young drowess stood up and muttered the quiet incantation she had learned from years of watching Sabafae. The manacles fell off the draegloth's hands, clattering to the floor. A toothy grin spread across his face, and a pleased rumble rolled out of the depths of Adinar's chest.

"Okay, that smile's a little scary. Good to see, though," Pellanistra said wryly. "Better?"

He nodded enthusiastically, stretching his powerful limbs and sturdy trunk before bounding forward to sweep Pellanistra up into a hug that threatened to crush her bones.

"Adinar! Gently!" the girl cried with the last of her breath. The draegloth let his grip relax considerably, setting her down gingerly.

Pellanistra heard her name being called and gave Adinar an apologetic smile. "I have to go. Be good for T'riss."

The draegloth made a soft keening sound as his new and only friend slipped out the door and closed it behind herself. The girl saw Sabafae standing further down the hall. "Come on," the priestess said shortly.

Pellanistra followed her older sister through the twisting maze of corridors in silence, feeling an odd sort of dread as the approached the main hall where she knew her mother was waiting. She didn't understand what was going to happen, but there was a certainty in her heart that nothing afterwards was going to be the same.

Sabafae pushed open the doors, propelling Pellanistra in with surprisingly light pressure on her shoulder then following and carefully closing the doors again. As far as the Matron was concerned, this was a matter for only nobles.

The girl almost gaped to see her whole family assembled. The Matron was seated as though expecting an audience, with a vaguely familiar male at her side. Pellanistra had always known in a somewhat abstract way that her father was the Patron, but this was the first time she had laid eyes on Malagzar since the day she was born. Now she knew where Sabafae's crimson eyes came from, frowning slightly as she studied the Patron. He had the same aquiline features as Tebatar, but they seemed somehow more distinguished and handsome, with ivory hair left long and masterwork plate armor.

And then her gaze was off, scrutinizing her siblings. T'risskacha and Zezdrin were the only familiar faces here, but she knew the names of the others—that alone was most of her knowledge, other than some sparse gossip she heard from the House soldiers she had encountered. Tebatar looked very similar to the Patron, but there was a sort of sourness about his mouth and eyes that killed most of his appeal. Yasmur'ss was like their eldest brother, with Malagzar's hair and a face akin to the Patron's, but her eyes were such a dark gray they seemed like twin mirrors.

Vornas she had no trouble recognizing, with his robes of a wizard and neatly trimmed goatee. She had never met a male drow with facial hair before, and it puzzled her. He was deep in conversation with another young female, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, but no older. The voice was the same deep, resonant one she had heard in Zezdrin's bedroom.

The girl he was talking to she guessed was Talra, her supposed half-sister bound for Sorcere. Whispered rumors amongst the soldiers claimed she was Malagzar's daughter, but not the Matron's. If that was true, her nobility was a mystery indeed—Pellanistra had always been taught that bloodlines passed through females.

"When all of you are finished," Mayna said a bit sharply, putting an end to the side conversations. "We can begin discussing where Pellanistra is bound. Sabafae, do you have any opinion whatsoever on this?"

"None, Matron," the cleric said, much to her mother's surprise.

"Very well. Zezdrin?"

Pellanistra smiled slightly at her brother, which he returned with a wink and a slight grin that miraculously passed unnoticed. "She's shaping up to be quite the fighter, and she's getting frighteningly good at Shelza Ir. Perhaps Melee-Magthere is the best place for her," the male said. Mayna caught sight of the strange expression that flitted across T'risskacha's features and made a mental note to ask her after her other sons made their opinions plain.

"Tebatar, Vornas, do you have any thoughts?"

"Zezdrin is known for speaking wisely," Tebatar said. "Even if he and I rarely agree, if that is what he believes then perhaps she is meant to be another fighter." Unspoken words seemed to follow in his expression: And become T'risskacha's replacement.

Vornas considered the situation carefully before speaking. If Pellanistra attended Melee-Magthere, then there would be no threat to Yasmur'ss and Sabafae, and the two of them could fight over who was to be Matron to their hearts' content. On the other hand, he had no desire to make an enemy of T'risskacha,which suggesting the girl attend Melee-Magthere could very well do. He wasn't on the same level of value as Zezdrin as far as the warrior was concerned, and thus couldn't expect any forgiveness from Despana's third noble daughter.

"I think our House needs no more fighters," Vornas said finally. "It also seems to me that she has the capacity for magic."

Talra looked over at him, frowning in bewilderment. She was Vornas's charge and knew of the plot that was shrouding her younger sister. The idea that her mentor had just created a potential rival did not sit well with the girl. Before she could make her protest audible, however, Yasmur'ss spoke.

"I agree with Vornas—what do we need another fighter for when T'risskacha and Zezdrin have those roles filled with such competence. And with young Talra attending Sorcere in four or five years, we have little need for another arcanist. The Academy of Arach-Tinilith has long been the place of choice for females," Yasmur'ss said, honeyed words seeming to flow into the ear.

There was a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from Sabafae, the priestess's grip on Pellanistra's shoulder tightening suddenly. The girl started slightly, looking up at her sister in surprise. There was a strange bitterness in the cleric's expression as she glared in their sister's direction.

Malagzar leaned down, whispering something in Mayna's ear. The Matron nodded thoughtfully before turning her attention back to her gathered children. "Yasmur'ss, you make a valid point. Our House needs another priestess. Arach-Tinilith it is."

A single, soft word slipped from Sabafae's lips in a denial so quiet that Pellanistra barely caught it on the edge of her hearing. "No."

"Sabafae, you and Pellanistra may go. I have words for the others," Mayna said with a dismissive wave of her hand. The priestess bowed and departed, tugging the girl with her.

As soon as they were out in the hall Sabafae's demeanor changed abruptly, becoming almost savage with anger. She seized Pellanistra by the shoulders, and for a moment the girl was afraid she was going to be shaken violently. "I'm only going to give you this talk once," the priestess said harshly, glaring into her sister's eyes. "You're going to be learning from the Matron, Yasmur'ss, and I. If you ever think to trust our eldest sister, you're a fool. If you do trust her, then you'll be a dead fool. Am I understood?"

Pellanistra nodded, eyes tearing up slightly at the fingers digging into her shoulders.

"Go to your room," Sabafae ordered, her voice sounding harsh. "I'm testing you on House history tomorrow."