Aestith landed hard on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs. Everything hurt and he had to blink his vision back. He wanted to vomit. His eyes focused on Haeltania's smirk.
He was going to die.
This was how he died. He would die, far away from everything that mattered, and close to it at the same time. He would die alone, as everyone did. He would die in Haeltania's first sacrifice to Lolth. He took a cold kind of comfort in that his life would end with Lolth, that the sacrifice would mean a victory for his family. Such was the fate of males.
What had Aestith thought he could accomplish? He had become too cocky. He should have hit her with spells. Should have done any number of other things, and now he was suffering those consequences. What did any of it even matter, if he were so weak that he could not protect himself? If he were truly Lolth's Chosen, he would have survived.
Aestith had been deceived. Lolth would never choose a male, let alone a deformed male.
Haeltania taunted, "Now we shall see who Lolth's Chosen is."
Hearing her voice his thoughts aloud enraged him. All the taunts, the barbed jibes, and the mockery all the way here. Then she had poisoned him, because somewhere in her mind, she knew she couldn't have won otherwise. She had every advantage against him already, and she couldn't have won without poisoning him.
He smiled, the bleak smile of one already condemned. "Yes. We shall." He raised his left arm and brought the back of his gauntlet down hard against the dais. The jewel shattered.
Smoke and fire poured from the jewel, twisting into a shape three times Aestith's meager height. The fire formed into the indistinct burning shape of the trapped elemental inside. Aestith didn't care if it attacked him, so long as it attacked Haeltania first.
He lay bleeding beneath the billowing smoke and bright light of the fire, a dark grey and black shape, like discarded ashes. The spiders backed away into their webs. The males in the room scrambled from the light. Descaronan flinched. Haeltania covered her eyes in pain. The priestess endured. Only Aestith did not flinch. The sunlight was worse.
He climbed to his feet. Blood ran down his temple. He tasted it on his lip. "Kill her," he whispered.
The elemental swiped at Haeltania. She cringed away from the light, retreating back into the webs. Its other hand plunged in after her. The webs caught fire, and Aestith heard himself laugh, maybe exhaustion or the simple satisfaction in knowing what he had done.
If she stayed, she would burn in them and fall, but the spiders were frightened away and couldn't help her. She had to leave the safety of the ceiling. Rather than burn, she chose to leap. The fire elemental swiped at her. Its huge hands missed her dark form. She poised to strike and end Aestith's echoing laughter.
As she came down, the Guardian struck. Once. Hard. It threw off her descent and cast her sprawling on the dais. She rolled, and was still. The mace fell from her limp hand. She was still breathing, but shallowly, her eyelids closed as if asleep.
The priestess's eyes roved over the dais to settle on the unexpected victor. "Lolth's Chosen, your sisters are yours to do with as you will."
Haeltania inspired him, in many ways. Her taste in clothes, her makeup, her hairstyles. She had taught him how to make poison. She had taught him about poisonous mushrooms and how to make the drug extract. Her death would weaken his family. But if he wanted to ascend, he knew what he had to do. It didn't make it easier.
He reached for the sacrificial dagger, hidden under the riding dress. He kicked Haeltania onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open, grey without infrared. They had the same eyes. The same dark grey skin.
Her hair was singed with the fire, the curls limp. She was bleeding under the armor. Despite her wounds, she was unquestioningly beautiful.
Aestith knelt over her face. Her eyes widened in growing horror.
He brought the dagger down into her right eye. Bone broke and splintered. Muscle tore and the soft brain split. He wrenched the dagger back in a spray of blood and bits of brain. He turned on Descaronan.
She gripped her spear.
He stepped from what remained of Haeltania. "I expected this from her, so blinded by her own greed that she cannot see what is before her. But you, who so rarely care for anything as much as the tangible, what you can hunt or kill-how do you not know when you looked at me what and who you are looking at? Your willful ignorance and pride have led you astray." He spit blood. "You brought this on yourself." He turned from her and motioned to the fire elemental. "Kill her."
The creature fell upon her. He heard the fighting as he incuriously plucked the remaining vials from Haeltania. The priestess had already collected her whip, but he assumed the rest had been his sister's. He looked over the mace. It had proven itself inferior in her hands, but she was never a fighter. What could she have truly hoped to accomplish? He took it. He pried the bloodied corpse out of the mithril. It had not done any good for her, in the end, but perhaps it could serve him in some capacity.
He looked back to watch Descaronan fall, burning into a heap. She twitched fitfully and stilled. He descended the dais toward her, removing something from his bag as he did. He knelt beside her and touched the diamond to her forehead. The diamond crumbled to dust, and slowly, her lungs rattled with a breath. She gasped, coughed.
"I could have left you dead," Aestith whispered. Her gray eyes rolled to meet his. It may have been the first time either had really looked at one another, Aestith because he had never been allowed to look at her face directly, and Descaronan because she had never cared.
She coughed, choked. She shivered in pain from her wounds and her eyelids fluttered. She slipped into unconsciousness. Aestith rose and slowly turned back to the dais.
Matron Ter'resa called, "Aestith Rix, I grant you free passage through my domain."
He nodded that he had understood, but he had no words to give her. He settled for, "Thank you."
High Priestess Ter'resa instructed him through the last parts of the ceremony. Despite his poisoned state, he was intent and dedicated.
A nod. "Concentrate." The high priestess took the circlet from Haeltania's head. In both hands, she lowered it to Aestith. The metal was cold and light. It fit as if it had been made for him, instead of his sister-though he reasoned that this was because they were, well, siblings.
He shivered. The incense was so thick his eyes burned and he could not smell the blood. The slaves had cleared the body, but they had to wait to clean the blood.
Aestith inhaled deeply, and his vision swam. His knees hurt from kneeling and his legs were numb. A tiny spider dropped down from the ceiling and landed in his hair.
Lolth's voice, just as he remembered it. Well done.
He bowed his head.
I offer you a gift. I would grant you the honor of being fully female.
His hands shook so hard that he gripped his knees to keep them still. Queen of Spiders, I have and will devote myself to you fully, but I must decline, for my state of body is my struggle, and I cannot have it undone.
A wise choice. I will grant you another boon.
The spider crawled down his cheek, over his neck and rested right below his clavicle, where he might plunge the sacrificial blade. The spider spread over him. It burned, scorched. He squirmed and his back arched as if a brand had been placed against his skin. Sweat broke out of his body. His teeth gritted to hold back the growing scream. It ceased and he touched his chest, expecting to feel burnt and smoking skin. It was smooth. He removed the steel mirror from his pack and from the light of the fire elemental, he looked at the mark. It looked like a brand, as if Lolth had taken a brand of a spider and stamped it onto his flesh. The mark did not tear or bleed, but somehow it smelled like burnt flesh.
Matron Ter'resa said nothing, already preoccupied with her own matters.
The circlet was light, made of mythril. It felt heavier when he wore it, bearing down with the weight of what it meant.
Still dizzy from the poison, he pulled himself to his feet and toward the door. He didn't know where he really wanted to go, but what would be his temple would be a good start.
To Amalette, he Sent, I pray the loss of Haeltania was worth my ascension.
The rubies in the circlet caught the light of the fire elemental and gleamed. Some things were exactly as they appeared.
#
It was almost relieving to see Skullport again. Aestith was already looking forward to crawling under a blanket with a bottle of wine, and would have gone directly to the fortress, except for the fifteen crossbows pointed at the party. The Zhentarim stood on the second floor of the city and the party looked up at them. A familiar wizard leaned, grinning at them, over the rail.
"You have something that belongs to me," he said in a terrible cliche.
"Who are you?" Eilora asked.
"My name is Hazim." By the expression on his face, he fully expected the name to strike terror into their hearts as their minds became overshadowed with recollection. The party, instead, looked at one another and shrugged.
"Could you be more specific?" Aestith called back.
He scowled. "You have stolen my property."
They were silent. Kairon shifted from one foot to the other and sighed. "Could you be more specific?"
Hazim stared blankly at the group for a moment. "The bloodmoss. I know you have it."
"What bloodmoss?" Dee said.
He sighed and motioned to one of the crossbowmen. The man grabbed a sack and upended it. Something fell and landed hard with a sound like cracked bone in front of the party. It rolled.
It was a half-rotted human head. Flies buzzed around it. Aestith could not easily distinguish one human face from another, but Eilora gasped, "Oh, holy shit, that's Monkey."
"Just give me what is mine, and I will be on my way."
The party eyed the crossbows. Dee whispered, "I can get out of this."
Aestith's eyes flicked around the room. "There are a few spells I could cast to aid our escape."
"I don't back down. And I don't run," Kairon sneered.
Nix whispered, "I can Dimension Door with someone."
Tirowan nodded. "I can cast Invisibility and get out."
"What are the odds he has Counterspell," Kairon pointed out.
Aestith looked back up at the man. He didn't want to be hunted by the Zhentarim too. He didn't need this, and the bloodmoss had really been nothing but trouble since they first encountered it. He sighed, and reached for his satchel. Nix stepped forward. "You must have us mistaken for someone else," he Suggested.
Hazim blinked and frowned, brow wrinkled in confusion. "Yes… I…"
One of the crossbowmen fired once. Another fired. A third. Three bolts hit Nix in rapid succession. Nix dropped, unconscious. Aestith knelt to Stay the Dying. He hissed, "What are we doing? Decide quickly." He worked as the others discussed, carefully extracting the wickedly barbed crossbow bolts, inspecting for poison.
"We can take them," Kairon insisted.
Aestith scowled, wrenched out the second bolt. "Our sorcerer is down. I'm poisoned and unwell. The rest of you might be all right, but we're not."
"You should have mentioned you were poisoned," Kairon complained, then gripped Aestith's shoulder. Aestith shivered in relief as the weakness faded. It was easier to remove the bolts when he could see straight and didn't feel like, at any moment, he might vomit into the wounds.
"I will give you one last chance," Hazim said. "All I want is my property."
Eilora shifted from one foot to the other. "Guys, this is the guy who tortured a cat."
Tirowan added, "And is apparently well-connected. I don't think we should wish to cross him."
Aestith rose. From the satchel, he removed the small trunk of bloodmoss. This had been his fault. He had opened the trunk a few days ago, and Hazim had likely been scrying. It could have even gone back farther; the Piece had taken some of the bloodmoss too, and a few inquiries would have given away Aestith's name. It could be any number of things, really. He just wanted to be rid of it by now. It wasn't worth keeping.
He dropped the trunk on the ground. Hazim gave a leering grin. "I'm glad one of you sees reason." He nodded to one of the hirelings. The man holstered the crossbow and descended the ladder down. He picked up the crossbow again and stood in front of the box. "Open it," he said.
Aestith handed him the key. As the man took it and knelt to open it, Aestith's eyes widened as he remembered-the candle. That damned candle.
The box opened, and by some fortune, the candle had rolled under the bag of bloodmoss. The man opened the bag, then pulled the drawstring. He nodded to Hazim and shut the box, twisted the lock. Two more men descended the ladder to help carry the box.
Aestith could have taken the candle back at any point, but why? He had no use for it, and keeping it in the trunk would be more trouble than it was worth. He let it go, and only felt terribly glad to see it all gone.
The rest of the party grumbled and complained on the way to the fortress, bitched about how Aestith was supposed to have sold it to his sister, which made the priestess laugh bitterly as he slipped through the door. Aestith replied, "I killed her."
He asked Felrax if he could borrow a mortar and pestle, which was freely given. He crushed the remaining diamond with it and sprinkled the dust over Cakecake.
"Aestith, what are you doing to my badger?" Eilora said, alarm edging into her voice.
"Saving it," he muttered. He touched the badger's mangy fur, salty with Eilora's dried tears. The spell restored Cakecake's mind and the honey badger woke. It blinked its slow, dopey eyes and turned to look at Eilora. It licked her hand. She sobbed and fell upon the creature, holding it close as she wept. Aestith left before she attempted to hug him.
#
Haeltania had been a necessary loss to his family. He accepted that. Killing and reviving Descaronan had been unnecessary, but he thought it did serve as a justifiable lesson to her.
He should be happy right now, but he only felt empty and lost. He should be basking in his own victory. Instead, he had curled onto the pallet in his room in the fortress with a bottle of cheap wine, and was drinking alone.
Aestith had been raised male, for everything that meant. One of the things firmly ingrained into male drow was that they are never to harm a woman. The act was punishable by death. He had killed his sister. The highest caste of male were still as nothing to the lowest caste of female. Yet he had killed her anyway. More puzzling, it was accepted and condoned.
It felt wrong, as if he had temporarily escaped justice and punishment, and it was coming for him.
It wasn't, and that felt wronger.
Someone knocked on the door. Aestith had piled all the furniture in the room against the door to keep the others from bothering him.
"Aestith? You all right in there? You haven't been looking so great," Dee said.
"Go away, Dee," he complained.
"Are you drunk?"
"Fuck off."
She Misty Stepped into the room. She was greeted by Aestith, glowering hunched in a corner with a mostly consumed bottle and a book, in his underwear with a blanket thrown over his shoulders. "Aestith, are you sure you're okay? You've been even more moody than usual since you got back.
"Leave me alone, Dee."
"Aestith—"
He took a swig from the bottle and tucked the book under his arm. He snatched the satchel of holding from the floor and channeled the boon Lolth had given him. The mark on his chest heated. His body twisted, expanded, grew. New limbs sprouted and formed. Aestith, in the form of a giant spider, crawled onto the ceiling.
He supposed that Dee must have said something, but he, as a giant spider, couldn't understand her or speak back anyway, which suited him fine. She tried again for a moment, then gave up and Misty Stepped back out of the room. He crawled down the wall and transformed back, hunched in his corner to finish off the bottle.
#
Sailanshin dropped into a chair and rubbed his temples. Kai looked up, started to ask about what had happened, but when he saw his brother's expression, he didn't have to.
Sailanshin complained, "The kid was practically gift wrapped for them. Didn't put up any kind of fight getting there. Nothing. I spoke to one of the slaves in the temple. They even got him to drink the poison. Especially made for him. They only failed to strip his armor, but Haeltania had better armor, better weapons, a priestess's circlet. It shouldn't have particularly mattered." His lips twisted into a frown. "And he… wins. He won in a rigged fight."
"Is he… A male can't ascend to a priestess," Kai gasped.
Sailanshin frowned. "Aestith is… Frankly, deformed. Imperfect. He isn't entirely male. Certainly doesn't dress as he should."
Kai tried to remember what Aestih had been like in class, but he couldn't. He had paid such little attention back then to anything but himself and his own studies. It was beneath him to even notice the boy. "But he prevailed. So he is worthy."
"Worthy, yes, but…" Sailanshin shook his head. "Damnit." He kicked a worn wooden table. It scooted against the rugged wood floor and he slammed a door as he passed into the next room.
Kai rolled the spellscroll in his hand, passing it back and forth between each palm. He had copied it from another wizard's book some weeks back, with the intention of adding it to his own, but he had never found the time. There would always be time to copy the spell again, but there would never be a better time to use the spell than now.
Sailanshin was hurting, and it wasn't just the loss of a lover, nor was it the frustration at her death and who had killed her; he was frustrated because of this town. There were several male drow paladins, and it frustrated him to see them. His jealousy made him cross. To see someone born male, imperfect and merchant class, ascend to the level of a priestess hurt him.
Kai could fix it. He could help, like Eilora had said.
#
Over breakfast, where Aestith sipped on more wine, the others seemed inclined to call the entire thing a wash and go back to Waterdeep. As loathe as he was to return to the surface, he did have a temple being built. And he was a priestess.
He began a mental tally of everything he would need and require. He should find some way to get an underground tunnel built too, so there was a path into the Underdark. How? A tunnel would have to be made, obviously. The first thing that occurred to him was to buy some slaves and have them begin, but then he would be stuck down here minding them while he needed to do other things. No, he needed a different way. Something a little more viable.
Haeltania had been right about a few things; he couldn't handle slaves. To him, it was a troubling waste of resources. Drow worked slaves to death; they were cheap enough. After experiencing other cultures, however, Aestith had a different business model. If he paid them instead, they might be more expensive in the short term, but he wouldn't have to watch them as closely, nor would he have to bother with punishment, feeding or housing them. If they were happier, it led to increased productivity, and was less stressful for him-this he had learned running the brothel; they paid their employees well and they would even get into bed with Xaiviryn out of his disguise, or defend their post against bugbears. Slaves did those things out of fear of punishment. The initial cost was balanced by being less stressful.
They could always be subjugated later. Aestith was of the opinion that he should be nice to others first, because he could always be cruel later and if he started with cruelty, they would never believe him if he weren't. It may not be a traditional way of viewing things, but Aestith felt there was much to learn from the flow of water; the path of least resistance.
Since the Trial, his spells had been different. Slightly more potent, yes, but he had access to things he didn't have previously, not merely the ability to polymorph into a spider at will, but other differences too. Not all of them were good, but he felt satisfied with what he had. For now.
"I need another drink," Aestith muttered.
"You've been drinking since yesterday," Dee commented.
"Have I? How can you tell?" He smirked, then excused himself and made his way out. Other drow gave him a wide berth as he walked, and averted their gaze. They made themselves suddenly scarce. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.
He passed into the bar, and more than a handful quickly left, and others trickled out. He sat down, alone, mulling over his own life choices. He should shove the circlet in his bag so people could go back to ignoring him, but he didn't know if that would even help, not with the mark on his breast.
He must have spent too long wallowing, because Eilora, Dee, and Nix came to find him and slid into the booth with him. He tried to ignore them, but they kept talking about future plans, and what to do. He sipped the wine, and stared at the dark out of the booth as he contemplated moving to an empty one.
"Aestith, what's wrong?" Dee demanded.
Aestith downed the rest of the ale and shoved it back. "My sister is dead. I've personally seen four of my sisters die. What isn't wrong?"
"How many sisters do you have?" Eilora asked.
Aestith wished he had drank the ale more slowly. "Seven older than me, though I only knew six of them. Two younger, but they're dead."
"Brothers?"
"None." His hand clenched.
Dee considered. "So you're the eighth daughter? Is that special to drow?"
His hands shook and a lump caught in his throat. "Is that what you see?" He looked up and swallowed. "Yes, it's significant."
"Well…" Dee shifted. She tried to think of a delicate manner of phrasing. "You don't seem to be coping well. Are you sure you don't need help?"
"Perfection doesn't need help."
Eilora rolled her eyes. "No one is perfect, Aestith."
Aestith stared at her. "I was born perfect. It's everyone else that's wrong."
His eyes must have gone red, because Dee said quickly, "No one is questioning that you're perfect, Aestith."
He snorted, and started to move from the booth. He jerked back. Kai stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. Kai had grown. He was nearly as beautiful as his brother, and unmistakable. Aestith had sparred with, and been beaten by, Kai enough times to recognize staring up at him.
Kai's eyes flicked towards Eilora and his face flushed, blood rising to it. Aestith's lips curled in disgust. Her? He was enamored with a wood elf? Absolutely repulsive. If Aestith had been sober, he might have sought to punish Kai for it.
Kai smiled. Eilora groaned. He said, "I fixed it. I helped someone. He was hurting, and I fixed it so he won't now."
Eilora stared, almost afraid to ask. "What do you mean?"
His smile widened. "This way. Come and see."
Eilora moved as if to rise, then shook her head. "No, I'm good. Thanks."
Aestith glowered. "Kai, what have you done?"
Kai looked back at Aestith, as if he suddenly remembered that he existed. "I… Well, you see… Sailanshin—"
"What did you do?" Aestith hissed as he rose to his feet. He was shorter than Kai, yet still the other backed up a pace. "Show me what you've done."
Kai stared at the circlet, then his gaze dropped. He turned and Aestith followed him. Kai led him down a series of streets and down an alley. They descended a set of stairs and into a building. Something stalked in the darkness. Aestith reached for a weapon and Kai said, "No, don't. It's Sailanshin. Don't."
Aestith stilled as the creature stopped. His jaw dropped. "Kai, what have you done?"
The kamadan sat, watching them, unaware of what had been done to it. The air felt stuffy, as if it might suffocate him. Aestith drug Kai out of the room and shut the door. He hauled back his fist and hit him. "What have you done?" he demanded. He shoved him against the wall. "What have you done?"
Kai smiled bleakly. "Eilora said I'd never helped anyone. Said I was terrible. I wanted her to notice me. I wanted her to see that I could do that."
Aestith hit him again, because it made him feel better. "You are an idiot," he snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "An idiot." Aestith looked at the cat, and back at Kai. He could barely control his rage. He tried to Dispel it, and failed. He tried any number of other things, but couldn't manage it. Aestith took a deep breath. "I'm taking Sailanshin. I have to try to give him his mind back."
The cat snorted. Its tail twitched. Even the snakes glared at Kai. Aestith stilled. "Sailanshin? Do you understand me?"
Sailanshin slunk toward him and laid on his belly, intent. Aestith knelt in front of him. "Sailanshin, if you understand me, raise your right paw."
The paw rose, hovered deliberately, and dropped down.
Aestith rounded on Kai and slammed his fist into the wizard's face. Kai stumbled back. "You can't even get True Polymorph right!" He hit the idiot wizard again. "What have you done? He'll die in only a few years! He should have longer! You've banished him to the form of a beast-what have you done?"
Kai's eyes watered. "It was for Eilora. I thought… She said I had never done anything good, to help someone. She likes cats…"
Aestith shook with rage. "You damned idiot!" The cat growled in agreement. Aestith paced about the room. It had to be fixed. It had to be corrected. It just had to be. "What else about the spell did you get wrong?"
Kai looked down. "I don't know."
Aestith rounded on him. "You have to fix it. You have to undo what you've done."
"I can't. It's permanent."
"I don't care-fix it. Change him back."
He looked at his brother. "I could get another scroll. Transform him into a drow again, but it wouldn't be the same."
Aestith resisted the urge to hit the other this time. "Not good enough," he snarled. "You took what was already perfect. Why?" He glared. "This isn't about Eilora at all, was it? You're a shit wizard, Kai, and a fairly good swordsman, but Sailanshin was perfect, wasn't he? Eilora is a poor excuse."
Kai shook his head, wide-eyed. "No. No, it was Eilora. I…" His eyes softened. "She… She is unlike everything I've ever known. And that's beautiful."
Sailanshin's ears flicked back and teeth bared. Aestith agreed with him, but he said, "Kai. You need to fix this. You can't bring Sailanshin home like this."
"I… wasn't going to. I wanted to be near Eilora."
"Eilora lives on the surface."
He tilted his head. "So?"
Sailanshin jumped. The drow wizard hit the floor with the weight of a full-grown kamadan bearing down on him. The snakes hissed and snapped near the drow's face. The cat slowly moved off of him. Kai shook, scrambled back. The kamadan gave a casual swipe of a paw at him that knocked Kai off balance.
Aestith sighed. "Eilora doesn't matter, Kai. What matters is undoing what you've done." He paced as he thought. Was there any magic at all that could fix this? A powerful enough wizard could probably dispel it.
Kai deserved to die for what he had done to Sailanshin, and Sailanshin deserved the justice that would come with his death. Aestith thought of how he had killed his sister. It had felt good at the time, but only at the time. There would be little to gain from Kai's death, really. But there could be some positive from his continued existence.
Aestith stepped between them. "Kai. You can't return home without Sailanshin." He paused. "For that matter, what are you even doing here?"
Kai looked at Sailanshin, who flopped onto his side, as if to say he didn't care. Kai hesitated, then blurted, "We escorted your sisters."
Aestith glanced back at Sailanshin. That made sense. "I'm surprised Haeltania convinced you to."
"She didn't," Kai admitted. "We were ordered to, by Lady Ondalia."
Aestith's heart leaped. She was still alive? All of his childhood fantasies of her began to bloom in his mind. He shoved them back. "That complicates things. We probably have some time then. Descaronan may come looking for you, but she isn't going anywhere for at least a while." He paused in thought, then lifted his head. "Kai. I can potentially fix the mess you caused, but I will require something in return."
Kai flinched. "Yes?"
"This will be to your benefit as well." He unfurled two maps on a table. Sailanshin curiously paced around to the other side and lifted himself onto his hind legs to look. Kai shuffled over to them. His posture was hunched, cowed even. Aestith pointed to the map. "On the surface, where I've been, I am building a temple to Lolth." He touched a point on the first map, then moved to the other map. "I want you to excavate a tunnel to it."
Blood drained from Kai's face. "But I… That will take ages." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't have the spells to do it."
Aestith smiled sweetly. "Get an umber hulk."
"That's no easy task! I can't do things like that—"
"And I used to think you had everything." He shook his head. "You're a whiny, petulant brat."
Kai looked from Aestith to Sailanshin, perhaps realizing that it would have gone better for him if they had decided to kill him after all. Kai looked back at the maps. "I need a moment to calculate where the tunnels should be." He moved to a bag and plucked his own map from a pouch. Underdark maps were confusing to anyone who wasn't accustomed to them, but they were more detailed than surface maps. Kai used a blank page in his wizard's book to calculate. Aestith paced about the room. Sailanshin sat, and watched.
Kai paused. "How far along is construction now?"
"Not very."
More writing, then, "How deep will it be?"
Aestith gave him the estimates and Kai nodded, going back to more scratching of the quil.
Would Xaiviryn even help?
He could always ask Tirowan-she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to show up a drow incapable of doing it themselves-but he was loathe to go to her. Fact of the matter, he was loathe to bring Sailanshin. He didn't want the other to know where he lived. He didn't want to put Sailanshin through the humiliation of running away to the surface.
He stopped. "Sailanshin, your brother will still need you to protect him. When the tunnel is built, I can bring a wizard—" He glared at Kai. "-a real drow wizard to help you."
The ears flattened.
"It would mean you wouldn't have to go to the surface, and Kai needs you anyway."
An ear pricked forward. The tail swished, as if irritated with all the back and forth.
Aestith sighed. "I realize it's frustrating, but the alternative would mean you coming with me to the surface, then sailing to reach another city to get to this wizard. Either way, I cannot help you immediately."
The cat rose to all fours, then it knelt, front legs bent in a bow, the cat head and the snake heads down. It straightened. Sailanshin had submitted to the priestess's desires.
Kai stopped his scribbling and moved to his Underdark map. He made a mark, then a series of them, then flipped to another blank page in his book to draw a rough sketch. When he finished, he set the book aside. "I know where to build it," he said quietly.
Aestith nodded. "Good. I will do what I can to speed the construction from the surface."
Kai looked up, an expression on his face like he wanted to whine about Eilora again. Aestith glared, and he shrunk back meekly. The cleric could not believe how idiotic and foolish Kai was. He had always seemed so perfect, the star pupil, good at everything he did. The truth was that Kai wasn't any of that.
What did Kai see when he saw Aestith? Kai recognized him, clearly, but did he remember him from before? Was he surprised at how the awkward, spotted-skinned youth had grown? Or did Kai only see the priestess now?
His eyes flicked to Sailanshin, and remembered the bow. Aestith may have still been a child by the standards of their lifespan, but in many ways, he wasn't. Drow mature faster than their distant fae-like elf cousins; they are forced into it. Aestith was a cleric, and had become a priestess, and the weight of what that meant wore on his shoulders like a lead mantle.
Kai obeyed him now out of fear and shame, and had to expect that Aestith would kill him if he failed. Sailanshin expected Aestith to be capable of correcting what had been done. Arcedi expected him to succeed in his accomplishments. Xaiviryn expected him to lead a temple.
Lolth expected him to spread her influence.
Aestith hoped he could live up to these expectations.
#
They tried to force their way back up through the Yawning Portal, which proved an arduous and difficult venture at best, and in due time, Nix had nearly died twice more, Eilora ended up surrounded by demons, Kairon used an expensive spell scroll to help her, and Aestith was hurt in the melee as well. They had little to show for it, save a few items Nix said would be equal to about half of the teleportation fee for the whole party.
They had a bit of debate on if they wanted to press on or not, then turned back to Skullport to simply teleport back out.
While the teleportation circle was being setup, Aestith removed the chainmail and put on the breastplate. Gingerly, he lifted the circlet from his head and carefully stowed it into his satchel.
The party returned to the brothel with lighter purses. Eilora considered it a minor victory, as the brief excitement kept her from growing bored. Dee and Tirowan gave Nix a tour of the facility. Aestith used the opportunity to occupy the washroom, much to the high elf's displeasure.
Arcedi had left a note on the desk in his sloppy handwriting: I took care of it. He probably meant the lead the guards had on the murders. Aestith breathed in relief.
When he was properly dressed again, Aestith stole away to visit his townhouse. He was disappointed to not find Arcedi, but his cat greeted him with a headbutt. He picked up Hallow and wandered into the pantry to check on the pixie. It seemed to still be alive, so he looked at his mushrooms. Some were ready to be harvested. A few had spored and could be planted. He set Hallow down and the cat pounced on a nearby toy. He sliced a piece of apple and carefully dosed it in the mushroom extract. He shoved the slice through the grate. A voice inside said, "Thank you."
Aestith turned and shut the door. He carefully moved around the cramped furniture in the room. He had long ago blocked the windows. The door was locked. He removed his clothing piece by piece and hung it in the closet. He donned the circlet.
Aestith's shrine was far from grand; it was clay, because moving around something stone was nearly impossible for him, and that had been difficult enough to obtain. But it fit in his satchel. He carefully removed it and shoved it into place. He got one of the porcelain bowls from the kitchen and a knife. Hallow followed him.
He cut along one wrist and bled into the bowl until he judged it had enough. He did not heal the cut. He used his gathered blood to form a web on the floor. Hallow sat on the edge of it, watching. If the skeletal cat had disturbed the ritual, Aestith might have killed it.
He stepped around the web in dry spots on his toes as he placed the two shields dedicated to other gods in the circle. He left a bare space in the center and cast an inverse Magic Circle. The prepared holy water evaporated and powdered iron and silver turned to worthless rust. Hallow followed him to the pantry and he lifted the box. He tilted it so that it slid.
The pixie grunted, and mumbled some slurred complaint. He took the box into the Magic Circle. Hallow watched from the side as Aestith lit the incense. He prayed, on his knees, naked before the altar, then turned to the box. He didn't have a key for it, so he settled for picking it, slowly, minding his time. There was no need to rush.
The lock gave and he set the tools aside. He opened the box. Inside the box was a fine wire mesh cage. At the bottom of the cage was a pixie, her clothes tattered and stained, pale with captivity, weak with underfeedings. She had eaten perhaps half of the apple slice by the time she got to the drug. She clutched her head, her legs tucked against her chest. She looked up at the dim light, and reached a hand toward it.
"Are you letting me out?" she asked.
Aestith kept his face from view and slid the wire cage from the box. He set the box down in the center of the web and carefully stepped over it to place the box outside of it. He trotted back to the altar. A spider dropped down on his bare shoulder. He unwound the wire pinning the mesh together. The fae turned, saw him. Her wings buzzed in fright and she tried to move away from his hand, and fell against the mesh, dizzy with the drug.
Aestith plucked her from the cage and tossed it aside. She struggled, her little fingernails scraping his skin. She kicked, then screamed. He laughed gently as he pinned her down.
She bit. Her tiny teeth broke his skin and he bled. He jerked in surprise, loosening his grip just enough for her to wriggle free. She slammed against the side of the Magic Circle, then gasped in terror. She whispered spells, stumbling over words. Aestith reached to grab her, too late. She was going to try to teleport out.
Hallow leaped. The cat, light without muscle or organ to weigh it down, sailed over the web, through the Magic Circle. It struck the fae down and pinned her, delicately, on one of the shields. The fae stared, and screamed in horror at the cat. She begged, pleaded, offered anything.
There was only one thing she could give.
Hallow kept a skeletal paw on her as Aestith plucked first one wing, then another, from her back. She screamed and cried as he performed the action. Another spider ran up Aestith's leg. Blood ran down the pixie's back. Hot tracks of tears marked her soiled face. He poised the dagger. The pixie was really too small to properly hurt.
Aestith whispered in Elvish, for nothing else was fit for prayer, "May I forever serve you, Lolth, my Queen." The dagger plunged downwards. The tip bit into the pixie, severing her spinal cord and paralyzing her without killing her. Beneath her, the shield twisted and burned. The other shield split and blackened. A spider ran down his spine and dropped to the floor. More of them crawled from under the furniture, around the corners. They flowed over him, around Hallow. The cat stepped from the sacrifice, carefully as the spiders passed.
The spiders scrambled over the floor and dropped from the ceiling, converging on the sobbing, screaming pixie.
Aestith raised a hand and moved in the incantation of a spell. Silence suppressed the sounds of the pixie shrieking as the spiders bit, poisoned, consumed her like the insect she so emulated. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them; fast, hairy hunting spiders, slow weavers, trap makers.
The spiders left, crawling back to their corners and crevices. Aestith lifted himself from the web and picked up Hallow. A knock at the door made him jerk. He didn't have time to dress. He cast about for a robe, but so many of his things were at the brothel. He shut the cat into the pantry. Another knock.
Then he remembered; he cast Disguise Self and, clad only in the circlet and a spell, went to the door.
He opened it only so far as the chain would allow. "Yes?" he said.
The guardsman paused. "I had reports of a scream?"
"I stubbed my toe."
The guard tried to look past Aestith but couldn't. "I have probable cause to search the premises."
Aestith frowned. "Under what grounds?" he demanded.
"The scream. Please step aside."
Sweat ran down Aestith's back. One look at the circle, and Aestith would be arrested. Aestith gave an exaggerated sigh. "This is because I'm a drow, isn't it. Look, I told you, I just—"
"Your neighbor said they heard screaming and voices."
Shit. "Yes, sometimes, one's voice becomes of a higher pitch when they are in pain."
"Ma'am, please open the door."
"Just a moment." He shut the door. Then he smiled. He unlocked the chain and opened the door for the single guard. He shut it behind him, but did not lock it.
The guard looked at the door to the bedroom, found it locked. "I'll need this opened."
"Of course. Excuse me."
Aestith whispered in Elvish, "Test me, Lolth." Then, he whispered the spell, and cast. He caught the guard as he fell, but he was too heavy for Aestith to do any more than control his fall. He knelt beside the guard and said, "You explored every nook and cranny of the townhouse. The bedroom was perfectly ordinary and expected. The kitchen and pantry was in order, if a bit messy. The living room was in the process of tidying up, but you saw nothing outstanding, even if your hostess was a bit standoffish at times and a bit annoyed to have you, but you remember her as being cordial and polite all the same. You pet the hostess's cat, a grey tabby. You headed toward the door after completing your inspection to your satisfaction, and felt dizzy from the heat of the day. Your hostess went to get you a cup of water."
Aestith rolled the guard onto a rug and drug the rug toward the door. He rolled the guard off of the rug and moved the rug back. He went to fetch a copper cup of water and returned to the guard. The guard stirred on the floor. "What? Why am I here?" he demanded.
Aestith knelt beside him, offering the cup. "You were just leaving. Here."
The guard frowned at the cup, then accepted it. "It really is quite a warm day in the sun."
"And you in that hot uniform."
He downed the water and handed the cup back to Aestith. He rose to his feet. "Yes. Must be the heat." He smiled. "Well, thank you, ma'am. I see everything is in order."
Aestith nodded. "Thank you for your concern." Aestith saw him out and locked the door. He sighed, leaning heavily against it. He swore several times and marched to the kitchen to let Hallow out. He cleaned up the ritual and washed himself, dressed. He prayed briefly, played with the cat for a time, quietly delighted at how clever a creature it was.
Eilora could keep her multitude of cats-so long as they were confined elsewhere than the brothel-Hallow was superior.
He dumped the shields into a rubbish heap and the desiccated skeleton into a river, in a small potato sack filled with rocks.
Arcedi had never experienced what it really was to be a drow. He hadn't been raised correctly; his own ignorance made him annoying, but it made him who he was.
The priestess reflected on the drow in Skullport, the ones in the town near it. When Deekin had enticed the kobolds to play music, the other drow there acted as if they were in some kind pain, utterly hated it. When Aestith had interacted at all with the Matron Mother, or the drow in her domain, they were all deadly serious-their faces might crack if they smiled. Haeltania and Descaronan, too, had no sense of humor at all. A life without bad jokes and the ability to laugh at the absurd seemed incredibly bleak.
But Amalette wasn't like that, not entirely. But Amalette had always been a little different from other drow. Amalette had never given him a response, which bothered Aestith only a little. Perhaps she was shocked, and had nothing to say to him. Perhaps she was angry and he might face her retribution one day, in one form or another.
Had Haeltania been right, in some ways? Had the surface changed Aestith so much?
There were notions he had that weren't entirely drow, and that bothered him. He felt like a slave was useful, but not worth the stress and risk of having them-and when money was available, he didn't see anything wrong with just paying them to do the work. That wasn't a drow mentality at all, but it was capitalistic and logical, so he wasn't willing to concede ground on the point. Drow hid their flaws; Aestith didn't want to-no, he didn't think he was flawed. Others might see him as deformed, but he didn't. Why hide? Except perhaps these infernal freckles.
His face heated. Arcedi had kissed each freckle on his skin. All the men and women Xaiviryn had been with, and the male still thought Aestith was beautiful.
The sunlight lit the street, glinting off the puddles and wet cobblestone. The priestess flinched at the light, and tried to hurry back into a shaded street. Aestith would always hate it here. It wasn't only the weather, the wind, the horrifying open sky; it was the nonsensical culture. He didn't belong here, and never would.
But he wasn't sure he really belonged in the Underdark either.