At that moment, a yochlol subtly brought to her attention the summons of Matron Malice of House Do'Urden. The ambitious matron of the Ninth House of Menzoberranzan was asking the Handmaiden for a means to detect the Dagger of Menzoberra! Lolth's lips turned up in a cruel smile. The Dagger had been searched for many times in the four thousand and more years it had lain hidden, yet none had brought the sacred weapon of the city's founder back.
Sensing the mirth and approval of the goddess, the yochlol answered the summons, taking with it a spiderjewel, one of many enchanted to locate the concealed Dagger. Many supplicants had tried and many had failed, Lolth recalled, and the prize was so close to them all! Perhaps if House Do'Urden did, indeed, find the Dagger of Menzoberra, she would reward their tenacity and bestow the power of spellfire upon the child Drizzt.
Just then, a long-anticipated struggle between the first and second houses of Ched Nasad broke out, and Lolth turned her deific attention to far more fascinating matters. She placed the matter of the Dagger at the back of her vast consciousness, telling herself she would turn her attention once more if House Do'Urden got anywhere near the fabled blade.
So beautifully executed was the demise of No-House-Worth-Mentioning, the former First House of Ched Nasad, that Lolth let her attention shift from the affairs of Menzoberranzan. Time was both so slow and yet so swift when viewed as a mortal would see, that by the time her gaze returned to the spiderjewel she'd given Malice Do'Urden, much time had passed, and it was already the day of the Festival of the Founding.
The bearer of the spiderjewel was none other than Zaknafein Do'Urden. Lolth frowned when she saw him emerging from the Pillar of Narbondel without the Dagger in hand. Had he seen the Dagger and decided to leave it? If so, the blasphemous drow deserved to have his heart roasted in the sacrificial fires! But, as she watched, the weapon master removed the spiderjewel from his neckpurse. To her amazement, the spider pointed toward the edge of the city!
If the Spider Queen had but taken the effort, she could have adjusted the flow of time to watch the disappearance of the artifact. Hasty as she was, she narrowed her focus, instead, locating the missing Dagger far faster than the weapon master of House Do'Urden could. She couldn't help but chuckle when she found it resting in the hands of the page prince, Drizzt Do'Urden. At the boy's feet was the scrying bowl owned by the Ninth House, and she understood that the boy had somehow seen the Dagger in the water and pulled it out.
It took several minutes to create a suitable corporeal drow form and transfer a single aspect of her mind to it, but she was soon whisked away to--of all places--a storeroom. Outside the pantry, she could hear sounds of breaking pottery, and a simple spell of scrying (for such things were necessary in mortal form) revealed the young page prince held at swordpoint by the weapon master. When Drizzt was allowed to speak, he told Zaknafein how he had gotten the Dagger.
Lolth's lips peeled back. This child had spirit! Though she disliked such a trait in males, it often made for a far more gifted wizard or warrior later on, a fact for which his sire was clear evidence. But even the goddess of the dark elves, who had seen so many talented fighters come and go, couldn't believe it when Drizzt--a mere child--successfully fended off one of House Do'Urden's sentinel spiders.
"Warrior or wizard?" she mused to herself, but the boy's intelligence and resourcefulness had already decided things for her. "Let Masoj Hun'ett go about his studies," she muttered, dismissing the scrying spell. "Drizzt Do'Urden will wield spellfire!"
The door to the storeroom opened and the page prince was shoved inside by his sire. Though he pleaded to be allowed to help Zaknafein fight the sentinels, he grudgingly closed and locked the storeroom door.
"Hello, Drizzt Do'Urden," Lolth said, changing her eye color in a fit of pique to match the outrageous hue of the young dark elf's glowing orbs. Lavender, of all colors!
"I should be out there helping him," the boy declared, after gaping at her a long moment. "I'm going to be a warrior one day, you know."
Lolth did her best to laugh in a manner that would be pleasing to Drizzt's ears, and not the cruel cackle she felt like unleashing. A warrior? She had far greater things in store for this one! "Oh, yes," she replied, as though agreeing. "I know. But your place right now is here, Dagger Bearer."
"How do you know me?" he asked.
"I know many things," she replied cryptically. But she did not know if the boy had the gift to become as powerful a wizard as she desired.
"I'm not... I'm not afraid of spiders, you know," he said, eyeing her gown of living spiders.
The Spider Queen smiled. "Truly? Then come closer, child." Unable to resist the power of a deity personified, the boy was drawn forward to her grasp, and with one hand on his shoulder, she delved deep into Drizzt's mind.
She nearly shuddered with revulsion when she touched the guileless innocence of the young drow. Despite ten years under the careful scrutiny of his elder sister and an entire year as page prince, the boy still had not the proper mind of a drow! Still, he had plenty of courage and more than enough intelligence and agility to become as talented a swordsman as his father... if not better!
"But does he have a gift with magic?" she asked herself aloud. Drizzt, enthralled by the goddess' gaze, didn't hear her.
Lolth nearly gasped when she touched the child's Thread--the magical line that connected all creatures to the mystical Weave. In most drow, even those who were talented spellcasters, the Thread was a tiny strand, visible to few who were not deities. Drizzt--the confusing young page prince--was connected to the Weave by rope. A thick cord of magical energy ran from the child's aura, indicating a channel through which the boy would one day be able to tap into the Weave directly.
Directly! This was a far greater talent for magic than she could have achieved by design.
Aware that the fight outside had come to an end, Lolth reached into her realm in the Abyss and withdrew the tiny silver spark that would one day mature into true spellfire. Without hesitation, she nestled the spark into the boy's mind and withdrew.
Drizzt blinked, unaware that any time had passed. "I'm not," he repeated. "I'm not even afraid of those big spiders in the hall."
"With a weapon such as that Dagger in your hand, I can see why," she replied. "But it is time the Dagger was given to me. Matron Malice will be glad you did."
She expected him, for all his spirit and stubbornness, to question her possession of the Dagger of Menzoberra, but he did not. Instead, he flipped the weapon over and handed it to her hilt first. Such blind obedience was surely a good sign, she thought to herself, and stepped back from the young elf.
Let House Do'Urden know they were visited by their Lady "Lloth" on this day, she smiled to herself. She returned to her throne across the Planes, ignoring Drizzt's incredulous expression as she faded from his sight. But they will likely never know the true reason!
Satisfied she had planted her seeds of chaos on fertile soil, she remanded the growth and education of the child Do'Urden to the back of her consciousness, turning her attention to the dispensation of justice upon an unsuccessful House coup in Ust Natha.