Chapter Twelve
Snipers and The Lady
"Welcome, guests, to my home," Vlosorbb called from where he was standing near a staircase carved out of the side of the cavern. He gestured toward the city and smiled. "This is Her own city, Baltana'stramtor."
He started down the wide staircase and everyone followed it in the same order as before.
"'Her?'" Scorpius asked quietly, his eyes still on the city. "The Lady?"
"No," Tylia replied, shaking her head. "Jhyr."
"What?" Saeras cried out, but she kept herself quiet. "This is that city?"
"Yes. This is the cavern to which Jhyr long ago lead Her mortal followers after their fall from Tysaelyl's grace. This is the original Pasaelael city."
"Wow." All of the visitors echoed that statement.
Moments later, they were amid the bustle and noise that they had seen from so far above. Tylia pulled Saeras into the center of their group and the torchbearers traded their torches in favor of swords. Six other males (both Pasaelael and human) came forward, swords drawn, to circle Vlosorbb's following of visitors.
The four human guards bore many scars and a single tattoo on their left shoulders that glowed a brilliant red; slave marks.
"This city is a dangerous place," Vol'axle commented, slipping easily between the guards. "Especially for visitors. Especially for you, Kaoveh."
He glanced, not at Tylia, but at Saeras. She watched him rejoin Vlosorbb before she turned indignantly.
"What did he just call me?" she demanded. Tylia laughed.
"Nothing rude, Saeras," the Orondralas assured her friend. "He only called you 'cousin.'"
"Is he your Uncle's son, then?" Saeras inquired uneasily.
"No. Well, yes, I suppose." Tylia shook her head and laughed again at the confused look on Saeras' face. "'No' because a male in Pasaelael culture has no claim to offspring, as well as because they have no blood relation. 'Yes' because Uncle adopted him when Vol'axle was very young. He calls me cousin, too."
"E'trit! Vlos'darthiir! Kitrye'kyuvr!"1 Three curses were hurled out of the crowd, and the next moment Tylia heard the distinctive hiss of blow-darts.
One of the slaves leapt in front of Saeras and fell quickly. One of the guards, with a raised scar on his face, lifted his right arm, sword and all. A silver-blue light flowered there and cascaded into a shield around the visitors, Tylia and the fallen slave.
The entire group, Vlosorbb and Vol'axle included, had stopped. Saeras knelt next to the slave. He had a foot-long shaft thrusting out of his chest, just below his sternum. Saeras reached to remove it, but the slave quickly put up his hand.
"Do not, my lady," he rasped as Vlosorbb's pale scarlet magic lashed out against the dart-snipers. "It is poisoned."
"Is there nothing anyone can do?" Saeras asked quietly.
"No," Tylia replied as the slave shook his head weakly. She examined the dart in his chest and her ashy skin paled slightly. "He's dead already."
She touched his forehead in a Jhondraelael blessing and stood to speak with the mage who was shielding them.
"Thank you for your kindness, my lady," the slave added, wiping her tears with a gentle hand. "That it was you I saved and not one of these black-skinned devils eases my heart. The Lady of Ash has told me much of your people."
He gestured toward Tylia, who didn't see.
"Do you have a name?" the Aer asked, her voice trembling as she smoothed his long hair back from his face with one hand while holding his lifted hand in the other.
He glanced at the mage-guard, who was distracted by Tylia and his magic. The slave nodded.
"It is Kaleb, my lady."
"I will remember, I promise," she murmured.
"Let's go, visitors," called the mage-guard, his voice rough. "All is quiet for now. Leave that."
Tylia pulled Saeras away from Kaleb's body as Vlosorbb came to the center of the circle of guards. He called to two of the human slaves. They knelt in front of him as the visitors passed by.
"Take him, bury him," he instructed them. "You were all from the same culture; bury him in the traditions of that place. Burn his mark from him. He died a free man. When you are finished with that, bring me his wife and child."
"He had a child?" Saeras gasped. Vlosorbb nodded and pulled gently on her arm.
"And they shall be rewarded for his sacrifice," Vlosorbb agreed readily.
"How?" Eileen asked quietly, her calm voice almost swept away by the tide of the market that they had entered.
"They shall be freed and returned to the surface," Vlosorbb explained as they reached the base of the massive column. "They shall be given all the money they will ever need for a good life there, and the protection that only a Sekevlos can give them."
Tylia nodded with satisfaction as they passed through an ornate gate set with gemstone images. Most were spiders of ruby and black diamond.
"Come, we have no time for stairs and tunnels today," the Zil continued, hurrying down a plush hallway.
A pair of double doors stood at the end. They were deeply etched with an image of a woman, her eyes set with rubies, her hair of silver and her skin of deep, blue-black sapphires. She bowed to another Pasaelael woman of similar make, save that the second wore a crown of a black metal wet with an amethyst spider set into the center.
"Jhyr and the Lady," Tylia explained as her friends admired the mural for a moment. "The original Lady, not this current one. They usually don't last more than twenty human years or so."
"Now, listen to me, friends." Vlosorbb turned in front of the doors, gesturing the guards away. Once they were out of earshot, he continued. "Guests or no, She is still the Lady of Spiders. If She takes offense at something you do or say, She can and probably will have you killed. There will be nothing I can do about it. Be careful, and be polite."
He pulled the doors open and gestured them through. He followed, and Vol'axle and Lerien came last, pulling the doors closed behind. A faint glow lit the room for a moment, faded, and reappeared. Vol'axle pushed the doors open once more, but now they led somewhere else.
A lovely room spread out before them. Its floors were covered in plush carpets and there were richly hued tapestries on the walls on the walls. Piles of cushions, as well as couches, lined a black and scarlet velvet carpet that led from the doors to a pair of thrones, one set above the other.
On the cushions were four male Pasaelaer, all bearing a pulsing red symbol that marked them as slaves. On two of the couches were seated female Pasaelaer dressed in black leather and bearing whips. None of them looked up as the visitors entered.
Vlosorbb beckoned, and they followed. When they were halfway across the room, a black metal door opened behind the higher throne, and a Pasaer woman stepped out. Vlosorbb immediately froze, then knelt. The others quickly followed suit.
"Come forward, ussta zil2,and bring your tag-a-longs." The Lady's voice was as soft as silk, though there was a derisive amusement there.
When they reached her, she was lounging on the higher throne, her black silk ribbed with silver swirls that matched her hair.
"Farjali Jallil,3 may I present our guests?"
"Of course, Vlosorbb." Tylia knew that none of her friends would understand the significance of the fact that the Lady had referred to a male by name.
Two pa'das appeared through a doorway, one with deeply green eyes and one with eyes of amber.
Morning, Pet, Tylia called.
Good morning, Tylandraes, replied Petrius. He and his companion seated themselves on either side of the Lady's throne.
"Drathirdalharil, of course, you know."
"Of course." The Lady's voice held no accent, unlike the other Pasaelaer they had yet met. "Such a pleasure you have you back among us, Drathirdalharil."
"A pleasure to be back, Jallil4," Tylia replied with a polite bow. She did, however, meet the Lady's amber eyes. They were filled with cruel amusement.
"I also present Eileen Morani, Pyra Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy and Theodore Lupin." As each name was called, the humans stepped forward once, bowed and then stepped back. Only Pyra and Theodore met the Lady's eyes.
"What is that filth doing in my presence?" The sudden change in the Lady's voice was startling: before it had been as smooth as the silk she wore, but now it was as rough as sandpaper and as sharp as a sword point. The Lady sat bolt upright and her pa'das leapt from her seat to circle Saeras. The two whip-bearing priestesses also rose, though the slaves did not.
Saeras met the feline's unnerving golden stare and then the scarlet eyes of both priestesses, who glared at her daring. Finally, she looked up at the Lady and replied:
"Screa'in, Jallil."5
Vlosorbb looked nervous, as did Vol'axle, but the Lady motioned for her two underlings to resume their seats and relaxed slightly herself. Her pa'das twitched her tail at Saeras and went back up to sit beside Petrius.
"You have courage, Tonaikvlos," she commented, the silkiness back in her voice without the loss of the edge.
"So I have been told, Lady," Saeras agreed casually. "But I would thank you not to call me that; it is rude. I use no such term for you or yours."
"What would you have me call you, then?" the Lady asked, amused again.
"Saeras, as that is my name," the Jhondraer replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Or 'Duchess,' as that is my title."
"'Duchess,' then." Tylia marveled at that; to call a Jhondraer by rank was almost to admit that they might be an equal. "Well, Duchess, know that you are the first Tona—of your kind to set foot in this room, particularly under your own power. Feel blessed that Lolth6 has given you this opportunity."
"I am blessed, Lady," Saeras replied blandly. The Lady gave her a searching look, but did not comment.
She says to tell you that the rest of her comment was 'but not by your goddess!', Petrius added wryly. Tylia had to fight to hid her smile.
"Be careful in the city, Duchess," the Lady continued. "There are many that might wish to curry my favor by bringing me such a sacrifice."
"I know, and I will," Saeras agreed, her face tightening. "One of your—"Consort, Petrius supplied helpfully "—Consort's slaves has already given his life for my being here."
"You lost a slave, Vlosorbb?" The Lady asked, surprised.
"Yes, Farjali Jallil," Vlosorbb replied, looking relieved at the way the situation had resolved itself. "One of my best, to a poisoned dart."
"And the fletching?"
"Of House Do'Urden, Farjali Jallil," Vlosorbb replied dutifully. Vol'axle stiffened slightly.
"That House no longer exists in this city, ussta zil," the Lady commented, a warning clear in her voice.
"Of this I am aware, Farjali Jallil," Vlosorbb agreed readily, bowing slightly. "Yet the design was unmistakable."
"If I may speak?" Tylia asked with a bow.
"You may," granted the Lady.
"The design was unmistakable," the halfbreed agreed. "But not in the way that my ilninuk believes."
"Explain, Drathirdalharil."
"I have learned much of Sekevlos culture," Tylia continued slowly. "And am still learning, both from you and my uncle, my mother and also from my family in L'Taur. The design on the dart was similar to that of the extinct House Do'Urden, but not the same."
"Then to which House did it belong?" the Lady asked with feigned patience.
"None." The Lady glared at Tylia, who smiled innocently. "It belonged to the Serdyr, called here the Trantzvlos."
"X'sau." Tylia hid a smile; the Lady was having as many problems with the Trantzvlos as the Jhondraelaer were. "You are certain?"
"I am, Lady," Tylia replied instantly. "A dart of similar make and identical design killed one of my cousins recently."
"I had heard of the death of one of the Princess' ladies," the Pasaer murmured. "A certain member of the Court sent me notice."
"Speaking of news from the Court," Tylia added, filing the Lady's comment for future review as she rummaged quickly through her bag and extracted one of the letter that Myrdel had given her. The second was for Vlosorbb and the third Tylia had not checked yet. "This is for you, Jallil."
The envelope, like all official letters out of Si Thysaer, was made of one of Tyraesi's fallen leaves. The Lady's titles and name were written in lavender ink. Tylia offered it to the Lady, who looked scornfully at it. One of the seated slaves rose to take it, and then vanished through a door to the side.
"So, what now?" Tylia asked with an innocent smile.
"Now you may be at your ease," the Lady replied. Tylia coughed to hide her chuckle. 'At her ease?' In the Underdark? "My handsome can escort you around the city if you wish, or you may rest. Are your friends yet weary?"
"We would like to see the city, Jallil," Theodore replied, and Tylia smiled. He was a quick study and his accent would be flawless. "If it would please you to have it seen by us."
The Lady smiled sharply at him.
"It would please me," she replied in a silky purr. Tylia stiffened reflexively, then forced herself to relax. She did not like the way the Lady was looking at her friend. "But there are arrangements to be made, first. Micarffyn!"
One of the priestesses rose and bowed to her.
"You and your squad will go with them," the Lady commanded, much to the priestess' obvious displeasure. "You will guard our guests as you would guard me. Am I understood?"
"Of course, Jallil d'Orbben," Micarffyn replied, glaring at the guests.
"Do not disappoint me, Micarffyn," the Lady warned. "Go, meet them at the palace door."
She swept out of the room and two of the remaining slaves rose and followed.
"She and her squad are my best," the Lady informed her guests. "They will guard you well."
"Except for me." Saeras' voice was cold, even flat.
"She will guard you or she will spend the rest of her days weaponless in a drider7 nest," the Lady growled, her amber eyes glittering fiercely.
"Come, guests," Vlosorbb commanded, gesturing them back toward the door with a bow for his Lady. "Your tour awaits you."
"Tylia?"
"Yes, Theodore?"
"What's a 'drider?'"
1 Filth! Blood traitors! Halfbreed!
2 My Consort
3 Precious Lady; the way that Vlosorbb refers the Lady in her hearing
4 Lady
5 Learning, Lady
6 Chief Pasaelael goddess; goddess of darkness and treachery
7 Driders are half-Pasaer, half enormous spider. Like a centaur, only spider instead of horse. Extremely unpleasant and they are created, not bred. It is said that only the gods themselves have the ability to make such freaks of nature, though a few mad mages have attempted it with little effect. Rumor of young driders are as yet unfounded, and disturb the Pasaelaer more than they would ever admit. They will pay a handsome amount to anyone who can prove (or utterly disprove) the rumors.