The inn room was dark and quiet. Cessair was stretched out on her brother's bed, since he'd refused to let her share a room with Val and a priestess of Lloth, no matter how much the half elf protested that things would be fine. Galen lay on the floor in his bedroll, staring at the ceiling. He knew from Storunn's breathing that the dwarf was still awake. It was harder to tell if his sister was or not with how lightly she slept.
"Ye don't like this," Storunn observed quietly, knowing that his friend could hear him perfectly through the silence. The inn was built of stone, so there were no sounds of life from downstairs floating up through the nonexistent floorboards. It made for an almost eerie stillness save for the sounds of soft breathing. "The drow, I mean."
"Nor do you," Galen muttered quietly. "But we don't have a choice. I have a duty to combat true evil wherever it rears its head. A demon lord...that's more of a threat than all of Menzoberranzan. Besides, we'd be dead down here without Valyne and her sister knows the enemy that we're facing."
"Aye," the dwarf agreed. Neither of them were pleased with the situation, but at present they had to accept their unlikely allies. That said, of course, they would both be looking hard for any sign of betrayal. "Still don't trust her, do ye?"
Galen sighed, well aware that his friend meant Val. The masked drowess was at least a familiar evil. He still had no idea how he felt about the priestess traveling with them. "Not really," he admitted. "I hate that she keep secrets from us. The mask included. But on the other hand, I'm glad."
"Glad?" Storunn asked skeptically.
"It's easier to see her like Cessair does if I don't know the details of what she's done or who she was before we met her," Galen admitted. "Willing blindness is still wrong of me, I know, but I would like to believe she could be redeemed even if it's likely impossible."
Storunn rolled onto his side, looking over at the half elf. Cessair's breathing was still deep and even, one arm flung over her eyes and the other resting on her stomach. She looked peacefully asleep. "Yer sister's too soft hearted," the dwarf said quietly. "I think she's seein' good where it ain't."
"Val did protect her, whatever the reason," Galen said quietly. "Like it or not, we owe her at least some trust for that. And we have a common enemy. We can't afford to try and take on a demon lord alone. She is an incredibly powerful mage and I'm positive that she's been mostly holding back in all of our fights so far."
"Going to Menzoberranzan means puttin' us in their hands, lad. I won't see Cess on some altar getting cut up, nor you."
Galen nodded a bit more grimly. He hated the situation, but if it really was as bad as Lirayne had told them, they would need an army. Why the drow would give it to them, he didn't know. Their guide was doing a fine job of keeping them very much in the dark. "I think that if Val really wanted us dead, she would have killed us by now," Galen said. "That doesn't at all mean I'm waving off the idea of some sinister plot. Whatever is going on, she wants us on her side. We should watch her, but I think we can relax a little bit."
On the bed, Cessair almost sighed in relief. Of course she'd been listening. Most of her childhood had been spent perfecting the art of eavesdropping. There had been quite a few moments where she'd had to bite her tongue and not give away that she was awake, granted. If they had seen past the mask and the sharp words, maybe they would understand why she felt like she could trust the arcanist.
The words that Val had said in the hallway earlier were still echoing in her brain. It was hard to accept, but the opinion didn't feel like a lie. The half elf was used to just bounding around expressing whatever emotion she happened to feel, even if she was terrible at explaining what was going on in her head. She had no problem believing that they were safe, at least from Val. The potential demon infestation and other drow? Maybe not.
Even the priestess didn't seem dangerous. Defensive, maybe a little hostile and suspicious, but not actively out to do them harm. Cessair had noted that she clearly omitted details about her encounter with the demons, whatever it was, when they were treated to a fuller explanation of the threat. But she hadn't felt a need to press for details, because whatever it was looked intensely personal and incredibly painful. Val had put a hand on Lirayne's elbow when the cleric started describing the temple with the balor. It was a vaguely reassuring and somewhat protective gesture that reminded Cessair of something Galen might do for her. It was...sweet. She hadn't at all expected it. Neither drow had seemed to realize that it had happened, or if they had, they were pretending that it hadn't. Apparently dark elves didn't go in for displays of familial affection.
Or really affection at all. Or gratitude. Or anything that might look weak. Cessair was beginning to understand little bits and pieces of the drow worldview. It was a little disturbing, but it explained a lot about their new companions.
She let her thoughts wander for a while longer, unable to sleep so close to the familiar raucous snoring of Storunn and her brother's own barely more quiet version. The damn stone room was like an echo chamber. She sighed and rolled out of bed, bare feet silent on the cold floor. She grabbed her things and slipped out, going down the hall to Val's room. She could hear a soft voice on the other side and knocked hesitantly.
The door opened under the power of a mage hand spell to reveal Val perched on the edge of her sister's bed, lips pursed as she wove a spell over the fitfully sleeping priestess. She finished whatever she was doing with a few more mumbled words and Lirayne's form stilled. "Your brother would be infuriated if he knew you were in here," the arcanist said with preamble, turning around. She wasn't wearing her mask here in private, which suited Cessair perfectly. She liked seeing the drowess's face and the little flashes of expression that cut through her constant air of indifference. Cessair's favorite was amused exasperation, possibly because it was a look that seemed solely reserved for her.
"It's his damn fault. Their snoring would put a storm giant to shame," Cessair said, flopping down on Val's bed without needing an invitation.
The female drow's eyebrow twitched upwards slightly, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Comfortable?" she said irritably.
"Mmm. Very," Cessair said with an exaggerated air of contentment. "How's your sister?"
"Nightmares," Val said quietly. She could understand why and in a moment of rare mercy, cast an enchantment on her sister that would keep the images at bay. She knew that the drow thing to do would have been to take vicarious pleasure in the suffering of someone who had treated her so poorly in the past, but they were trying to make things right. Besides, as often as she had wished harm on Lirayne in her youth, it had never been something like this.
"She seems...nice. A little intense and temperamental," the half elf commented, rolling onto her side. "But I'm pretty sure she's toning herself down a lot for our benefit."
Valyne nodded. She had been impressed, personally. Lirayne had never been one to watch her tongue or rein in her often violent temper unless she was forced to by someone more powerful, generally the Matron. The fact that she was doing it of her own volition meant that she was actually serious about changing her behavior, at least a little. After a few days, they'd probably be back to fighting, but without the same vitriol. .
"What's your family like other than Lirayne?" Cessair asked curiously. "I mean, it's just Galen and I now for me. And I guess Storunn is like a grumpy adopted uncle."
"Well, there's my mother. Stern, focused, accomplished, protective. She's the head of our family-drow are very matriarchal, if you hadn't figured that out already. Her consort, Zekatar, is a veteran commander and warrior who likes inflicting pain on anyone for any reason. He hates mages and isn't shy about showing it. My older brother, Mourndar, is a wizard who only survived to adulthood because Zekatar doesn't kill his own children. Mourndar is also complete weasel. He's under the thumb of our oldest sister, Zesstra." Val paused, inhaling sharply at the flood of anger that came with just the thought of her sister. Malcanthet was right: she did want to tear out the eldest girl's heart. "Zesstra is a scheming bitch who cares about two things in the world: power and herself. Become a danger and she'll stoop to anything to get rid of you."
"Sounds...dysfunctional," Cessair admitted. "So were you and Lirayne close?"
Val laughed and shook her head, allowing her long hair to fall into her face for a moment before sweeping it back. "Sisterly dynamics are a little different in our family. Imagine three people on a ladder: Zesstra at the top, Lirayne in the middle, me at the bottom. Zesstra spent most of her time stomping on Lirayne's fingers and trying to make us both fall. Lirayne had to fight off Zesstra while simultaneously attacking me so I couldn't get her from below. And I just tried to hold on to the ladder and not fall to my death. Things are different now, of course, but it will take a lot of getting used to. Both Lirayne and I have changed a lot since we last saw each other."
"And your parents allowed it?" the rogue asked, doing her best not to show how horrified she was. A hint must have slipped through, because there was a hint of confusion in the drowess's expression for a moment.
"It was encouraged, expected. Only the strongest, the best, can survive. If you're weak, you're flung to the bottom and the whole world is willing to tread on you to get to where they want to be," Valyne said with a small shrug. "The Underdark isn't a soft, easy place to live like the surface. If you want to survive, you have to bite and claw your way through life to do it. The only person you can really trust and rely on is yourself."
Cessair closed her blue eyes, considering this. "That sounds very lonely," she said finally. "What about love?"
"Drow don't love." Val's voice was laced with a sharp bitterness that spoke of personal experience. "Not if they know what's good for them. Now are you finished playing twenty questions?"
The rogue felt her heart tighten in sympathy. She knew an old wound when she heard it. Hopefully someday the drowess would at least talk about it. "Just one more. Can I sleep in here? You know I don't snore."
"Your brother," the arcanist said pointedly. But she was already standing up and unpacking her bedroll, spreading it out on the floor.
"Val, I'm not stealing your bed," Cessair said, laughing quietly at the display. For someone so quick to deliver harsh, biting sarcasm and verbal abuse, the drowess could be terribly considerate. And, probably even under threat of torture, she would deny any altruistic motives.
"If I have to endure him raging at me because I somehow kidnapped you and made you sleep in our room, I'm not going to give him any more ammunition by forcing you to sleep on the floor. Now for the sake of your own health, shut up and go to sleep," Val muttered darkly by way of explanation, lying down. She didn't wait for an answer, closing her eyes and slipping into meditation. The half elf would probably have to giggle to herself for another minute or two before trying to sleep and she wasn't going to dignify it with even a glare in response.
"I'd say you're not welcome in my quarters, but stating the obvious would be such a waste of breath. What do you want, demon?" Siniira said harshly, crossing her arms. She had just come back from the temple and still smelled of exotic incense with just a touch of coppery blood from some sacrificial victim. There were a few spatters on her sleeve that she'd missed with her cleaning cantrip.
And, lounging in her favorite chair was a succubus, her long legs draped over one arm. The demon looked almost like a human with red hair that tumbled down into her face past her curved horns and flawless alabaster skin, her black tail twitching lazily like a cat's. Her wings were furled and her white eyes half closed as if she was about ready to doze off. Her clothing, if it could be called that since it was just a wide wrap of cloth over her breasts and another across her hips, revealed most of her body with a few bare concessions to mortal notions of modesty. "Siniira, how wonderful to finally meet you face to face," the demon said with a broad smile. "Watching from the Abyss is informative, but it's not really the same as being here in the flesh."
Siniira narrowed her eyes. A normal succubus couldn't scry across planes. She was talking to something much, much more dangerous. The true aura of power that this creature exuded was carefully disguised as a run of the mill succubi's unholy thrall. "I suppose I should be flattered that Abyssal denizens know who I am, but I find it more disturbing than anything else."
"You know, your daughter has exactly the same look for when she's defensive," the demon said smoothly. "My name is Malcanthet, incidentally. Since I know your name, it would only be polite to share. Normally I don't bother to remember mortal names. You're only here for a moment or two, after all, but for you and my sweet thing, I gladly make an exception."
Siniira had to fight desperately to keep from showing any hint of discomfort. She could feel the creature sizing her up like little more than a piece of meat. "You know one of my daughters?" she said instead, fighting a growing sense of unease. Lirayne had encountered a powerful demon, and now here was another one. She was confident in her own powers, of course, but she was more comfortable with guards around. With the wards of silence surrounding her room it was unlikely that anyone would know she was in danger unless she triggered the silent alarms.
"Yes," Malcanthet said with a wolfish smile. She enjoyed the stiffness in Siniira's posture. It was apprehension, not fear, but it was still delightful in its own way. She reveled in mortal emotions, though lust and terror were unquestionably her favorites. "In fact, Valyne is part of the reason I'm extending you this little courtesy visit."
If she had been off balance before, now Siniira was downright disoriented. She knew her daughter was a talented arcanist, even with what the more noble-minded would consider dark magic, but a demon doing her courtesies? That suggested a relationship that was highly disturbing. Hells, the yochlol made Siniira's skin crawl and they were devoted to Lloth. "And your purpose?" she said, forcing all of that down. If even what half of she knew about demons was true, this Malcanthet would not divulge anything more than she wanted to and most of that would be either blatant lies or hopelessly cryptic.
"I'm here to warn you. You see, whether you know it or not, we have a mutual enemy. Her name is Shami-Amourae, a demon lord. She was imprisoned in the Wells of Darkness a very long time ago for a reason that's not terribly important at the moment. However, she's found a way out and into this plane. You've already run across a general of hers, one of the demons still loyal to her despite her unfortunate status," Malcanthet said smoothly, studying her claws and pausing to buff them on the cloth over her thighs.
"This sounds more like an Abyssal problem to me, if she had some spat with other demons," Siniira said confidently. "Menzoberranzan is more than prepared to repel an army, presuming she even stays in this plane long enough to cause us trouble."
"Yes, well, the poor dear does have a substantial axe to grind with Lloth. And you...well, your daughter. And don't worry your lovely head, Siniira, it's nothing either of you have done wittingly. It's just who, or more particularly, what Valyne is that has Shami-Amourae so bent out of shape," the succubus said. She was still perfectly casual.
Siniira felt her composure slip. "What in the Demonweb are you talking about?" the drowess demanded, divine power crackling at her fingertips. Few things could rile her like a threat to her youngest daughter despite their estrangement.
"She's not just your little girl, Siniira, no matter which way the drow trace lineage. Trust me, she's also her father's daughter," Malcanthet said. She didn't bat an eye at the obvious display of readied power, secure in the knowledge that she would be easily able to dispatch the Matron if it came to that. Which it wouldn't. She had millennia of practice manipulating mortals.
"Her father was drow. That's nothing that would draw this Shami-Amourae's attention," the cleric said, struggling to stay calm.
"Oh, he looked like one. But how aware were you really with all that drugging incense in your system, Siniira? The Abyss is in her blood. She hid it, even from you, but it won't be hidden much longer," Malcanthet said, rising to her feet in one smooth motion. "You want your sweet, precious little child to grow up to be a Matron Mother, but she's destined to be so much more than that. Look at her already, bending powerful demons to her will with a thought, a word, a crook of her finger. Or did she not mention to you what she was really capable of before you threw her out?"
"You're lying," Siniira hissed.
"Am I?" the succubus taunted softy, lips curving into a delighted smile. "And what, precisely, would I stand to gain? Didn't you wonder what was happening when she came back from Sorcere so different from when she left? Why she was keeping secrets from you?"
The drowess was silent, those words striking frighteningly close to home. She'd realized that something was happening with Valyne even though she couldn't understand what it was. Most of the time she had written it off as her daughter just growing up and experiencing more of life. But maybe there had been more to it. And Malcanthet was right-she remembered almost nothing from the rite when she was fairly certain that her youngest had been conceived. She had never bothered to give it any thought. The father didn't really matter to drow, at least for the purposes of bloodline.
"When mages and historians write about her, they won't call her yours. They'll scribble down in their musty books who she really is: the daughter of Demogorgon."
The name hit Siniira like a blow to the gut. It was a name she knew and knew well-any cleric, any mage, anyone with even the most basic of knowledge about cosmology knew it. The Prince of Demons, the Maw of Madness, the Lord of All That Swims in Darkness. That...that thing...was her daughter's father?
"The Spider Queen wouldn't allow it," she whispered, well aware that the demon lord in question had countless cults devoted to him that operated in secret. But for Lloth to allow another being so powerful to touch anything that belonged to her...
"What better way to cement an alliance than with blood? Think, a child of Demogorgon bound to Lloth by faith," Malcanthet said. She clucked her tongue softly. "Really, Siniira, I would have expected you of all the miserable little creatures in this city to understand political motivations, even Abyssal ones."
Siniira sank into an empty chair, not trusting her legs to support her. "If this was true, she should have been monstrous. Corrupted, hideous, twisted, like a draegloth."
The succubus laughed, sweeping her crimson hair out of her face. "Draegloths are sired by lesser demons. Valyne is special, different. When she finally comes into her own..." Malcanthet trailed off wistfully, clearly relishing the thought of the havoc her pupil would wreak on both the Material Plane and the Abyss. "Well, I suppose you'll see soon enough. There is something else you need to know about Shami-Amourae. To cross over into this plane, she needs a vessel until she's strong enough to manifest. Imprisonment has left her greatly weakened. The specifics are quite particular: a half demon conceived in a special ritual, one that her balor general knows how to perform. From what I've gathered, she finally has that though the child in question is yet unborn. I would suggest you apply one of those sacrificial daggers you priestesses love to it as soon as it pops out. Unless, of course, you want to do things the hard way and confront Shami-Amourae on her own territory."
Siniira knew only one thing: if it meant protecting her family and her people, she would do whatever was necessary. "Where is this child?" she demanded harshly.
"Beyond your reach at the moment, but that will change very shortly," Malcanthet said. She shrugged slightly. "That was all I could determine with my scrying. Shami-Amourae may be imprisoned, but she can still be an aggravation when she wishes to be. Obviously she has a vested interest in me not knowing, otherwise I'd kill it myself."
"And why don't you just kill her?" Siniira asked, mulling this over. It would be a long time before she had all of this fully processed. "Clearly you're very powerful for a demon, even though you hide it well."
Malcanthet gave the Matron Mother her trademark inscrutable smile. "I have my reasons."
