Chapter 1
First winds
The
page prince Drizzt walked quickly with his head down, almost on the edge of a
run. He kept his concentration on
peripheral vision, such that he would not bump into anyone. Especially his sisters, or his mother.
Finally
he thought he reached the door, and carefully looked around, indulging by
stretching his neck back to soothe the crick in it. He looked at the door.
It
was like any other in House Do'Urden – ornate, strong, decorated. Except this door had not a single spider on
it.
He
shrugged, and tentatively knocked on the door. His sensitive ears picked up a slight echo from behind the door, but
other than that there was no answer, so he knocked again. "Master Zaknafein?"
This
time, to his surprise, it swung wide open, to reveal a large chamber within,
lit dimly by only one flickering mage light. Drizzt blinked.
Saying
the room was a mess would have been an understatement. Books and strange devices were strewn on the
bed, which looked suggestively like it had never been slept in. The books on the shelves were in uneven
rows, and some were even dumped on top of the rows. Strange devices and statues were displayed erratically on the
same shelves, and on the large single table were several glass instruments, and
many dark stains. Papers and quills and
rulers and other stationery had been pushed to one side, though some rebellious
remnants lay still on parts of the table. The chair had been stacked messily with papers, with only one small
paperweight in the form of what looked like a spell book. Even the floor was not spared, randomly
littered with papers and books and boxes. What looked like a mat with objects on was sprawled under the table.
The
only neat place in the room was a large glass-fronted display cupboard that
occupied an entire room, only partially filled with all sorts of strange
devices. Drizzt identified a wand and a
set of swords. A long staff, glowing a
faint blue, was leaning against it.
Drizzt
turned his attention away sharply when he belatedly remembered what he had been
supposed to do. "Master Zaknafein?" he
asked tentatively. "The Matron
Mother..."
The
page prince could only stare as a darker shadow reared out at the side of the
table, and caught sight of two bulging, red tinted eyes with slitted pupils,
wrinkled skin that pulled back to a cruelly smiling mouth where yellowed tusks
protruded. Feathers red as blood stuck
up from the top of the face, and a strange hair on the sides. The nose was beaklike and long, tapering off
to a hooked point.
The
creature seemed to have black wings, which stretched down from the hands to the
legs, which seemed to be of pure darkness themselves.
Drizzt
bravely held his ground. "What...what
are you?" he asked.
The
creature let out a harsh chuckle. "Streea. Streea. Usstan uil dost streea, ussan uil dost vlos." Death, death, I am your
death, I am your blood.
Drizzt
turned and ran quickly when the creature stepped towards him. It paused, then walked with cat-like grace
to the door and closed it neatly. Then
it collapsed against the door, shoulders shaking in a fit of laughter as it
took off the mask to show a handsome elven face.
That was a very cruel thing to do,
Zaknafein. A voice spoke severely
in his mind, laced with the freedom of the run, and an innate power.
Zaknafein
looked up, and the mat unfolded itself smoothly and fluidly to show a large
female king cheetah, that padded out serenely, then sat down on her haunches,
long sinous tail twitching, lifting one long paw to lick.
"I
would think so, Zaire." Zak said soberly, then smiled again. "Fun, though."
**
Drizzt
ran into another elf further down the passageway, and looked up fearfully,
relaxing visibly when he saw it wasn't a female relative, but the Weapon
Master.
"Why
are you in such a hurry, page prince?" the elf smiled, "Did Zaknafein scorch
your tail?"
"Master
Jarlaxle," Drizzt gulped, "There's a monster in Master Zaknafein's room!"
"Monster?"
Jarlaxle asked, sounding startled, then smiled.
"It's
true!" Drizzt protested, mistaking the smile for a disbelieving one.
"No
doubt," Jarlaxle said somberly, "Tell me, did this 'monster' have red eyes that
seemed to start from its head, tusks, feathers, and wings?"
"Why,
yes," Drizzt said in confusion, "How..."
"Never
mind how," Jarlaxle said dryly, "Go on your business, page prince. I'd find Zaknafein and tell him."
"Thank
you, Master Jarlaxle," Drizzt said awkwardly, then paused. "Do you need help?"
"No,"
Jarlaxle said, striding towards Zaknafein's room. When he was sure that Drizzt had left, he pushed open the door.
Zaknafein
was seated at his table in his mage robe, apparently conducting an
experiment. He looked up with a raised
eyebrow as his brother came in. The
cheetah purred loudly as a greeting.
Jarlaxle
carefully closed the door, then looked at Zak with an amused grin. "Why did you scare the boy, Zak?"
"Me?"
Zaknafein asked innocently.
"You
know what I'm talking about, Zak," Jarlaxle said, "Because I seem to remember
you pulling off the same trick on the Matron Mother when she was still a young
one."
Zaknafein
chuckled. "It always seems to work," he
admitted.
"She
is not going to be very amused, Zaknafein. Females hardly ever forgive and forget," Jarlaxle sighed, walking over
to the bed and roughly shoving everything to one side for a space to sit. "Honestly, sometimes I think your sense of
humor is..."
"Almost
as perverted as yours," Zaknafein quipped, carefully stoppering a bottle, then
his hands reached for two silvery, large marbles on the table, clenching his fist
and relaxing, making the marbles rub together with a 'scritch, crrk' noise.
"Must
you do that?" Jarlaxle asked sourly, "You know it gets on my nerves."
"It
helps me concentrate," Zaknafein said.
"Well,
it doesn't, for me," Jarlaxle retorted, "Mages should carry staffs and not
beads."
Zak
raised an eyebrow, "Well, I think beads are better. Lighter, at least."
Jarlaxle
sniffed. "Drizzt was sent to tell you
that Malice wants to speak to you about something."
"Then
I'd better go and see..." Zak began.
"No
need, Zaknafein," Malice's voice floated in through the door. Both males stood up quickly, and bowed,
though Zaire merely watched on. The
Matron of House Do'Urden had a 'pretty face', as Jarlaxle and Zaknafein had
commented when they had first seen her, and she had never outgrown it. "What is this about a monster in your room,
patron?"
Zaknafein
grinned irrepressably. "A figment of my
imagination?"
Malice
glared at him. "Weapon Master?"
"Yes,
Matron Mother?" Jarlaxle shot a smirk at Zak.
"Shut
up and go away." Malice continued to stare at Zak.
"Very
well, Matron Mother." Jarlaxle said, and went out of the door, closing it
behind him. "Let's see you talk your
way out of this one, mage." He whispered to the door.
He
fingered the chain with a pendant of a dice around his neck, and grinned, then
sauntered back to the weapon hall for a bit more practice.
**
The
drow soldiers collected in the large compound of House Baenre, and quickly
filed into place. Pushing out the
slaves in front of them, they left as the spider wall spiraled into an opening.
They
split into several smaller groups and took winding tracks to prevent any other
from tracking them back to where they had come from.
Inside
House Baenre's chapel, the high priestesses of the ruling house gathered around
their most precious artifact of a rearing spider carved of a block of immense
emerald, that glowed sickly as they chanted, the wizened Matron Baenre leading.
Tonight
they would attack a House. The groups
may wind and backtrack, but their paths led inexorably to House Do'Urden, fifth
House of Menzoberranzan.
House
Do'Urden's status with Lloth was always rather uncertain – due partly to the
Matron's unpredictable children, and also to the two adopted drow, Zaknafein
and Jarlaxle Do'Urden, one mage and one fighter, both formidable
opponents...for males, of course.
Baenre
was stronger than Do'Urden many times. Matron Baenre felt confident as she began to invoke Lloth's favor.
**
It
was Jarlaxle's turn to look up when Zaknafein hurried into the room. "I'd have thought you would both take a few
hours," he began with a grin, which faded at Zak's expression.
"We're
going to be under attack," Zak said, "We have to rally the troops!"
"Who?"
Jarlaxle asked as the both of them raced down to the common rooms.
"I
don't know," Zak said in frustration, "I can only pick up that there are more
than seven hundred."
"Seven
hundred!" Jarlaxle gasped.
Zak
nodded grimly.
"Only
the top three houses can have seven hundred," Jarlaxle said, "Lloth...at times
like this I regret snitching the merchant's purse."
"So
do I," Zaknafein said, as they reached the common rooms, "I think I have a
plan."
"Seven
hundred..." Jarlaxle mused, "It had better be a good one."
"Perhaps
it is," Zaknafein said, "I'd need all the magic users in the house."