The Zenith

by Blackcross-Taylor

After their capture by the mysterious Irenicus, Fritha and her companions find themselves in the lands of Amn with a friend to rescue and a debt to repay. Completed

88. Underdark

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

Author's note: And we're finally in the Underdark. What a slog! I sometimes wondered if I'd ever get this far. Thank you, as ever, to my betas, Maje, Doru, arabellaesque and WellspringCD and also to everyone who has stuck with the story for so long. Reviews are always welcome and thanks to those who have left feedback -it's definitely appreciated. ^_^

Underdark

They walked for little over an hour, the tunnel about them beginning to slope upwards towards the end, until they reached the wall Senityili had described. Fritha looked up, the passage continuing straight above them, the rough tunnel walls rising for a few yards above her head to be lost to the impenetrable darkness.

'Do you have the rope the priestess gave to you?' asked Jaheira, knowing full well she had and seemingly just wanting to break the grave silence that had descended over them. Fritha nodded once.

'Yes, stand back.'

The others did as she told them, shuffling back a few paces to give her room as she took the small coil of flaxen rope from her bag. The weave was smooth and light, more like a braid of hair than hemp, and shining with a faint glow all of its own. It could not have been more than a dozen yards long. Fritha found the end, letting the rest drop to coil on the floor at her feet as she hurled it upwards with all her might, rope flying into the air to continue snaking up into the darkness, her boot securing the other end to the cavern floor as it grew. According to Senityili, it would eventually find the exit and halt there, secured by its own magics, though it would bear their weight from the first moment.

Fritha stepped closer to give the now hanging rope a tentative tug. It seemed Senityili had been true to her word. She turned back to the others.

'Right, who's first?'

They must have climbed for a good couple of hours, the magic of the rope taking from them the burden of their bodies as well as their packs and Fritha was grateful it did; she was tired as it was, and there was no way some of them could have made the climb under their own strength.

Fritha dipped her face, pausing to stifle a yawn and instantly wishing she had not, her body all the more reluctant to begin moving again for this brief respite. She had not drunk last night, not quite trusting her tentative status as the sahuagin's champion to keep her safe, and her sleep had been restless, filled with strange dreams of darkness and blood that woke her more than once –though she had not been content to make the fuss Imoen had. Any moment Fritha was not being awoken by her own nightmares she was being awoken by her friend's, the girl screeching and wailing in her sleep, only to awaken to cry and sob for another good few minutes. Fritha had tried to be sympathetic, but Imoen would take no amount of comfort and, in the end, Fritha just left Jaheira and Minsc to the pointless endeavour and went back to her own nightmares unheeded.

Fritha raised her face upwards, delighting in the cool breeze that was stirring the curls at her temples, like the breath before a kiss, banishing the warm tunnel air about her, stale and stifling from their exertions. They were close now. And, indeed, it was not long afterwards a strong arm was reaching down the tunnel for her, Minsc hauling up the rest of the way and she was, at last, standing next to him in the darkness, the stony floor beneath her feet and the jagged curve of the pit she had just crawled from the only things she could see.

Welcome to the Underdark.

There was actually not a lot there. In her mind, unrealistic through it was, Fritha had conjured a place teeming with drow and deep gnomes and other creatures so rare as to be only seen in books- and there, for the most part, was where she would have wanted them to stay. But the reality was much more mundane, just an empty cavern, so large she could see neither the walls nor the roof in the meagre glow of their werelights, stalagmites towering like pillars, some joining with the dripping stalactites that hung from far above them to make huge archways; a great dark temple under the ground.

And their first encounter was suitably holy considering the city from where they had originally come, Valygar and Minsc following some small tracks that led to three duergar merchants who were on travelling back to their own dwelling and who did not care which side of the earth you came from as long as you had coin. They had asked after Bodhi and Irenicus, the merchants admitting they had indeed heard rumours of two surfacers as they had travelled north of there. The news was heartening and disappointing in the same instance, the group stocking up on the few supplies which had not survived their swim, as well as a map of surrounding area that glowed with a heat all of its own, the details brought out in warmth, rather than ink, presumably for those who could see such things and did not want to rely on light to make their way -a skill which would have certainly been of use to their group as well.

They were heading northwards now, or at least that was what they had said -Aerie's sense of direction had never been the best. Minsc had found some tracks in the direction that the merchants had pointed them in, though they had faded after a while, and they had been wandering northwards ever since with what seemed to be the increasingly vain hope of finding them again.

Their werelights were dimmed to the slightest degree, just grains of light that showed little more than the ground before them, but Aerie still felt as though they were lit up like a beacon in that realm of darkness. She shivered under her pack, trying to focus more on the pleasantly airy space above her, rather than exactly where she was. She had been brought up on horror stories of the Underdark and its races; to imagine she was there now, that they could be watching her at that very moment… Aerie drew a deep breath and quelled her fear before it ran away with her, fighting the urge to dim her magelight even further as Minsc brought them to a halt.

'A moment, please.'

'Here,' offered Fritha, crouching, as well, to hold out her light, 'What is it? The tracks?'

Minsc sighed and shook his head. 'I thought perhaps, but no. I am sorry, young Fritha.'

The girl shrugged, straightening to continue on their path. 'Isn't your fault, Minsc.'

Aerie felt her slightly awakened hopes fade again, the elf pulling her cloak about her as though it could shield her from the light in which they were bathed. 'I wish we could put out our lamps; I feel so exposed.'

'Are you mad, Aerie?' snorted Imoen, her pale face twisted with an unpleasant look of scorn that was likely fuelled by the same fear that twitched within her, 'not all of us can see in dark.'

Behind her, Anomen was nodding firmly. 'Indeed, I have no desire to stumble around in the darkness.'

'Why?' asked Fritha, 'You're only stumbling around in the light now. Don't fret, Aerie,' she continued, her voice milder than she had heard it in a while, 'I imagine anything down here that cares will already know about us from all the noise we're making.'

'Well, I suppose,' Aerie agreed; there was little comfort in her logic. 'So where are we headed, then?'

Fritha glanced to the man next to her. 'What do you think, Minsc? Should we finally give up on these tracks?'

The ranger nodded glumly. Jaheira sighed, already unfurling the map.

'Well, if I am placing us at the correct point, there are some caves not far from here to the north west which are on the cusp of Kuo-Toa territory-'

'Kuo-Toa?' interrupted Valygar, 'The malevolent fish-people?'

Haer'Dalis was frowning. 'I thought that was the sahuagin?'

'No,' mused Fritha, 'I think they would be considered more shark than fish.'

'Anyway,' continued Jaheira, before anyone else offered an opinion on this irrelevance, 'with it being on the edge of their territory, it would be less likely to be patrolled by the duergar or drow, or even the Kuo-Toa themselves. It could make a safe enough camp.'

'Hmm, the watch will have to be half on half off, but it'll be better than nothing, I suppose,' nodded Fritha, the last word lost to another yawn. Anomen glanced to her.

'Are you tired?'

She returned his concern with a pointed contempt. 'Yes, Anomen, perpetually.'

'So what are our plans to be once we have rested?' continued Valygar, the group setting out once more, Jaheira and the map now in the lead. 'We cannot just wander down here indefinitely.'

'Well, we know Irenicus's final destination is Suldanessellar,' proposed Aerie, thinking her idea a sound one, even considering the fears which fed it. 'We could just find a route to the surface and wait for him there.'

'And what if him and that bitch of a sister stay down here for a month or so?' snapped Imoen, 'Fritha and I won't last that long.'

'Well, I don't see you coming up with any ideas,' Aerie snapped back, 'How do you expect to find him?'

Fritha sighed to herself; oh, the pointless things they fought about.

'Now, now, children,' she soothed, making sure her smile was audible, 'the Fates will provide.'

She felt it the instant Imoen's glare shifted to her back.

'For gods' sake, Fritha, I know those fish-idiots thought you were some sort of divine saviour, but-'

Fritha silenced her with a gesture, stopping dead in her tracks as she heard it and all about her halted as well. It had been there, she was sure of it, the slightest murmur on the breeze, Fritha straining to hear it again over their breathing, over the beating of her own blood. Behind her, Imoen was getting impatient.

'Wha-?'

It was lost in a squeak as Fritha whirled to grab her arm, tight and vicious in her urgency as she hissed, 'Be quiet. Can you hear it?'

Silence and then Aerie was nodding fervently, looking at Fritha almost warily as she admitted, 'Yes, I can hear it, it's very faint though, I think it's coming from over there.'

They extinguished the lights, Jaheira and Fritha leading the way together, the others snaking behind them, half their group now blind and relying on the other to lead them safely.

Fritha gazed about her, her eyes seeing further now the light was no longer interfering with them, the cavern brought out in a grainy grey outline, their path weaving between many stalagmites of her height and taller, and somewhere nearby she could hear the rush of water. The sound she had first heard was getting louder, too, and she could make out voices though they were speaking no language she understood. Jaheira glanced to her; even the others could hear it now, the druid holding up a hand to halt those that could see it –those that could not, finding out soon afterwards.

Together, Fritha and Jaheira crept forward, Aerie just behind them, the cluster of stalagmites before them providing cover as they finally found the source of voices. It was a group of drow, likely scouts by their equipment, who were diverted in whatever task had brought them out there by their capture of a young deep gnome. The poor boy was struggling in the grip of the tallest male, bald and bleating like a lamb, crying and pleading in his own guttural tongue as the drow held him aloft and another slowly drew a dagger, smiles lighting their faces.

Aerie's shriek near deafened her.

'You!'

And the elf was gone. Fritha swore, her werelight instantly summoned and bathing her in a blue-white glow as she dived after her.

'Aer- Oh, bastard! Attack!'

A crack of lightening and, for an instant, the cavern was opened to her eyes, a huge vault of glittering stone, as breathtaking as any natural wonder of the surface, though Fritha had little time to appreciate it, Aerie's magics arcing overhead and into the drow. Three dodged it, blinded though it must have left them, the fourth floored by its impact, but seemingly otherwise unharmed, the man shaking the pallid hair from his face as he struggled to find his feet. That was, until Minsc arrived above him, both hands gripped about the pommel of his greatsword as he smashed him across the face, even the vicious blow not preventing the drow from plunging the long dagger he had drawn into the Rashemi's thigh. Minsc roared, a downward thrust killing the drow to pin him where he lay.

The remaining drow had already recovered by this point, the groups locked in furious battle, Anomen trying to press the fight to his opponent as he dodged and danced, twin blades parrying every blow. Imoen sprang from behind a moss-covered boulder to slip a blade in his back only to shriek as a throwing dagger flashed in the lamplight, the drow's companion just spotting her in time. She dodged it, but she was clumsy in her surprise, ending up sprawled on the ground, Haer'Dalis already stood over her parrying the blade that had meant to finish her. Imoen rolled out from under their feet to slash across the back of his legs, the drow spitting a curse at her even as he leapt aside.

Jaheira bit back a curse of her own, the woman barely reacting in time to catch each strike as her own opponent moved with a speed she had rarely faced. She, at last, saw her chance and swung out, the drow ducking behind the stalagmite next to him to let the stone take the blow and leaping from the other side before she could ready her defence, the man bearing the cruel smile of a victory. And forever was it frozen on his face as Fritha appeared behind him, sweeping down to cleave down through his neck and shoulder with the sickening crunch of gristle.

A scream behind them as Anomen finally pinned down his opponent for one good swing, and his cry signalled the end, the remaining drow turning from Haer'Dalis and Imoen to make a run for the darkness that would be his salvation. He fell on the edge of their lights, Valygar's arrow planted firmly through his back.

Aerie was already fussing over Minsc, tending his leg wound, while Imoen shrugged off Jaheira's concern with a sulky embarrassment. Fritha sighed, sheathing her sword and casting about her, her eyes catching on the rough brown tunic she was looking for, the boy crouched behind a stalagmite on the edge of their circle watching them with a fearful awe. She tried a smile, dimming her light to spare his eyes as she approached and greeted him in common.

'Hello, are you all right down there?'

He nodded quickly, clearing deeming them friendly and stepping from his cover to gaze about at them all with a boyish awe that reminded her of dear Luss. 'Oh yes, thanks to your help. You-You are from the light? I have not seen your tone before.'

Jaheira frowned. 'You are young; what are you doing out here alone?'

The boy hung his head, ashamed to admit it as he confessed, 'My name is Bedlen. I was just playing with my friends. We dare each other to go further and further out beyond the bounds of the village. We know we are not supposed to, but the granitehome is so quiet at the moment and we were bored. The drow do not usually come so far from their city, but they caught me and my friends fled.' His face brightened, seeing some way to repay their aid. 'My village is not far; I can take you, if you wish.'

'There is a village nearby?' confirmed Valygar, 'It is not marked on our map.'

Bedlen shook his head. 'No. I believe the elders forged a deal with the duergar to keep it off. Though the drow already know of our granitehome, we, at least, can avoid other troubles. But my village will welcome you, surfacers, and it would be a safe place for you to rest and tend to your friend.'

Fritha glanced about them all. There did not appear to be any dissent. She turned back to Bedlen who was practically hopping from foot to foot in his eagerness to help.

'Lead the way, then.'

The boy led them northward, the way becoming steeper as they went and much more interesting, the stone about them decorated in patterns of glowing lichen, deep black pools of water collected drop by drop from the roof above, so still their surfaces were as polished obsidian under the lights and, to Imoen's delight, through a grove of bright pink mushrooms that looked like they could have been cultivated to grow there. And the first signs of civilisation were becoming apparent too, Bedlen tripping merrily over a narrow rope bridge that spanned the ravine in their path, the chasm too deep and dark to see the bottom, but Fritha finally found the source of that roaring water.

They walked for just under an hour before they reached a rock face, the young gnome turning west, skirting the edge for another half mile or so to bring them to where some ancient fault or earthtremour had caused the cliff to shift, the rocks pushed back in wide shelves making natural steps in the rock. And, at last, they ascended onto a rocky plateau, a tunnel opening in the cliff face before them, little over seven foot high and barred by two large gates of softly glowing metal.

Warded, concluded Fritha.

Several gnomes were standing before the entrance, an older gnome of dark brown skin seemingly arguing with the four guards, when a cry alerted all to their arrival, Belden racing forward to meet the men.

'Guin! Guin!'

The old gnome's look of relief needed no translation as he knelt to sweep the child into a fierce embrace. 'Bedlen! Bedlen, fien muk! And who are these with you?' he continued in common, adding his wary gaze to the ones already being sent to them by the guards.

'Surfacers, father. They saved me from the drow.'

The gnome sighed and shook his head. 'Foolish boy, their risk would have not been needed had you not crept from the village. Learn from this.' Bedlen nodded gravely and dipped his face as he felt the shame of his lesson, his father continuing to them, 'Well met, friends, you are most welcome here. I am Therndle. Can I be asking why you are coming into the lands below?'

'We seek two that passed by here,' offered Jaheira, 'surfacers like us.'

Therndle frowned, a gnarled, calloused hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

'Two surfacers? Yes, we know of this. I saw them not, though word has it they were headed for the drow city of Ust Natha far to the east of here. Hmm, speak to Goldander Blackenrock, the lord of this granitehome -he may be able to aid you.' He turned to guards behind him. 'Admit these good people, I will vouch for them while they are here.'

The guards parted, albeit reluctantly, Therndle leading them through the stone hallways deeper into the labyrinth, their settlement tunnelled back and hewn from the very cliff itself, torches of cold blue flame bracketed to the walls every few yards and giving the stone an icy tint. Many guards seemed to be stationed there, their guide exchanging words with them, now and then, seemingly getting directions before he, at last, halted before a large stone archway, the room beyond much larger than others they had passed.

'And here I will leave you. Speak to our lord; I hope he can aid you. My thanks, surfacers.'

The walls were rough and uneven there, unmarked by pick or hammer and, at first, Fritha thought they were in some large cavern. The gnome lord was standing at the far side and it was only as they closed to him and their lights did nothing to lift the darkness before him that Fritha realised they were not inside at all, but high on a cliff overlooking the stretch of the Underdark they had just passed through. The small, stout gnome was staring out into darkness, his bald olive-skinned head wrinkled like a walnut shell and bowed in his own private sorrow, and Fritha wished more than anything she had his eyes, if only to see such a view.

Troubled though Goldander clearly was, he listened attentively as they explained what had brought them there. In fact, his mood definitely showed signs of improvement towards the end; Fritha was getting that sinking feeling.

'I can help you in this,' he answered finally, 'or help you to one who could aid you, at least, but-'

Fritha laughed dryly. 'Oh, there's always a but.'

The gnome did not look remotely embarrassed, though he did bow his head in apology.

'Forgive me, but too much svirfneblin blood has been spilt on this already. You see our village is quite empty at the moment, save for the guards and some of their families. I was forced to send most of my people to deeper climes far from here. We recently opened a new mine shaft, rich in minerals, but alas we mined too deep and awoke something trapped and sleeping within the rock. It killed the miners before we had even realised what had happened. We trapped it in the mineshaft, but that will not hold it forever. Kill it and I shall help you as I can.'

'Something?' repeated Imoen, 'What do you mean by something?'

Goldander shook his head. 'I do not know what you would call it. It is a creature of nightmare and darkest shadow.'

The girl rolled her eyes. 'Yes, let's save the melodrama and how about you give us something useful, like its colour or how many arms it's got.'

'Or how big its teeth are,' snorted Fritha, 'Come on, it's going to be a demon. It's always a demon. Just show us the way, Goldander.'

xxx

The fight was brutal. It was just as Fritha had predicted, but, even then, nothing could have really prepared them for such a sight, the fiery red creature filling the small chamber the gnomes had trapped it within, walls scorched from its attempts to destroy its prison. It fought as they, with blade and magic both, the air thick with dust and smoke as stray spells hit the walls in clouds of fire and white-hot shards, its claws ripping through the air, seeking flesh, wings and tail thrashing madly. They kept it surrounded, constantly keeping the creature moving and changing its focus as they took what hits they could get. It was a long, drawn-out kill that left them all blood-splattered and battered, Minsc's leg wound torn open once more, while Imoen was sporting a sprained wrist and Valygar bore a burn that covered almost his entire arm, Jaheira busy covering it in salve as the others gathered themselves, the huge mound of red corpse still twitching behind them.

The gnome lord greeted their return with great enthusiasm. 'You have returned alive! The creature is dead?'

Fritha snorted. 'Well, this blood isn't all mine.'

'Ah, I am pleased beyond measure.'

'So you'll help us now, then?' pressed Imoen, the gnome lord nodding eagerly.

'Oh, yes, tomorrow I will have our guides lead you to her, the one who may be able to aid you.'

Imoen sighed bitterly. 'All this for someone who might be able to help.'

'You said her,' confirmed Aerie very politely, as though to mask her companion's petulance, 'Who is it we are actually going to meet?'

'She is called Adalon by choice, though 'my lady' will serve just as well.'

'Her and Anomen'll get along great then,' laughed Imoen. The knight in question merely frowned.

'We set out tomorrow then,' agreed Jaheira, 'What of tonight?'

Goldander beamed. 'Tonight you are our honoured guests.'

Honoured they may have been, but, harried as they were, the gnomes' hospitality stretched to little more than a room and some food. Perhaps the deep gnomes had not the same cares for privacy as others, or perhaps needs must in times of peril, but the group were given use of a large room that was likely a dormitory from the number of beds crammed in there, a svirfneblin female setting out a selection of pickled mushroom and dried meats on the small table in the corner, while another two brought between them a vat of water. It was no larger than a washtub, though it would have probably served the gnomes quite well as a bath, Fritha heating the cold water with a look, and there was little more to be done, Jaheira and Valygar just stringing a rope along the room and hanging a sheet over it, allowing them to wash and change with at least some semblance of privacy.

Anomen raked soaped hands up through his hair. It was strange, standing there with the men, washing and all the while listening to the girls on other side, the perfunctory requests for water or soap interspersed with Imoen's wild giggling as Fritha promised, more than once, to throttle her if she made good on her threats to pull down the sheet.

Fritha was just on the other side of that thin white barrier; Anomen could see her bare feet in the gap left beneath, and he imagined her in the fine white slip she wore to sleep in, looking pale and slight as she tried to wipe the worst of the blood from her hair with a wet cloth. Anomen stooped to scoop some water into his cup, leaning over their half of the washtub as he rinsed the soap from his own hair.

He did not feel guilty for what he had said –not anymore, anyway- a quiet talk with Jaheira finally alleviating him of the feeling. The druid was right: what he has said had been unfortunate, both in words and timing, but it had been done in shock, not malice, and it had been nothing unforgivable -it was just that Fritha was no longer able to forgive him. He missed her. In a way, her temper had been easier to bear than now, when, outside of the occasional snide comment, she just treated him the same as everyone else. Something he knew others were suffering too, he considered as he recalled Imoen's hurt look from the previous day, though the girl's ongoing grudge against him was making it difficult to sympathise.

Their washing done with, the sheet was taken down and tub of ruddy water set outside, everyone settling upon beds that were far too small for them, the men and Jaheira having to push a few together, as they took food and some much-needed rest. Imoen was knelt upon a pillow, trying to brush the last of the salt from her clothes, Haer'Dalis already reclined upon a bed reading, Aerie seated next to him searching her bag for something with a frown. Valygar was frowning too –his bow string had not been the same since its soaking, Minsc offering him his spare one with his usual good humour.

'I was sure it was in here,' Aerie sighed, her voice muffled by the depths of her pack.

'What have you lost?' asked Imoen.

'My hairbrush. I was so sure it was with the rest of my things when we were back in the sahuagin temple.'

'And you've only looked for it now?' Imoen pulled a face. 'Your hair is going to be well knotted.'

Aerie flushed, though Haer'Dalis bore the brunt of her temper as he admitted, 'Oh, I am sorry, Aerie, I borrowed it this morning –it is in my pack.'

'Haer'Dalis! You could have told me! I've been looking for it for ages!'

Imoen was giggling, the girl rooting in her own bag to toss her a small bottle of clear oil. 'Here, when he does return it, use that; it'll help with the knots- ah, cheers,' she cut in, as Jaheira handed her a plate.

Fritha let their noise drift over her, idle and pleasantly mundane, like the twitter of birds, all her focus on her sword as she used a rag and the alcohol Finnis had gifted her to clean the putrid black blood from the metal. A shadow fell across her, stealing the shine from her blade. Fritha glanced up. It was Anomen, the man holding a plate of food, though he was distracted at the moment by the boots she had pulled off to dump at the end of her bed, still baring the delicate whites tides of salt from their swim. She knew well enough Helm's dogma: that kit should always be clean and in good repair –she had once seen the benefit of it too. But it hardly mattered to her now; indeed, so little did. Fritha went back to her sword, taking the last of the blood from it and picking up the next rag she had already prepared to protect it with a fine film of oil, the blade one of the few things left she actually cared about.

'Here, Fritha,' the man before her said finally, 'I brought you something to eat.'

She nodded to the floor at her feet. 'Thank you.'

Anomen sighed, stooping to set it on the smooth stone and, after an uncertain pause, sitting down at her side.

'I have never seen you put so much care into your weapon before.'

'No,' she admitted, no halt to her work, 'I liked my sword before, but only for what it was, a link to a place and people lost to me. But now… It is my edge, my tongue, my partner in dance… When I fight now it feels like music through my body.'

She sighed, for a moment lost in that fleeting feeling of harmony, a hand absently lifting the bottle at her side for a quick sip. Anomen was frowning.

'Fritha, should you be drinking that?'

The girl shrugged, lacking the energy even to tell him to mind his own business.

'Well, I asked to borrow Jaheira's ether, but she said no.' Fritha smiled and took another mouthful. 'Just a bit of something to take the edge off.'

Anomen sent her a sad look. 'There was a time when you liked the edges.'

'There was a time when they weren't so sharp. Do not test my patience, Anomen, it is in limited supply and I am trying to save it up for when I really need it. There,' she sighed, giving the blade one last wipe and easing it back into its scabbard, the girl shifting further up the bed and leaning back against the headboard for long draft of rum which left her coughing. Jaheira's head whipped to the sound. She did not look pleased.

'So, you are drinking again.'

Fritha was in no mood for her censure.

'Very astute, Jaheira –I can see why the Harpers were sorry to lose you.'

'Fritha!' gasped the elf opposite, Imoen jumping quick to her defence.

'Oh, don't start, Aerie. Gods, the way you and Jaheira go on, it's like you're her bloody parents.'

'Well, perhaps that is what she needs,' offered Jaheira crossly, her eyes dark as they returned to Fritha, 'you've been acting like a spoilt child for days now!'

Fritha just laughed. 'So? Do you think to shame me into toeing your line, because I'm well beyond that, Jaheira.'

At her side, Anomen sighed. 'Fritha, we do not mean to judge you, we are just concerned-'

'Don't touch me!' she snapped, the man snatching his hand back from her foot as though she burnt. 'You long ago lost the right. Now listen to me, all of you: I am dying and if, when the world has paused to catch its breath in its endless efforts to kill me, I want to have a drink, then I will.'

'So you would rather find your comfort in the bottle, than us?' cried Aerie, 'Is it pride or shame? Or is this your warped way of trying to protect us?'

'No, no, no,' murmured Imoen warily.

'Fritha, we are your friends, we want to help you!'

Fritha was looking as though a monumental effort was going into not to losing her temper. 'Well, what will help me most right now, is for you all to go back to what you were doing and let me have some peace.'

Surprisingly, it was Valygar who was shaking his head.

'That you refuse to even hear their concerns is the worst sign. As leader, your decisions should be impartial, but your behaviour of late has been impulsive and short-sighted.'

'And as a man who murdered his own parents, you'd be well qualified to judge.'

'Fritha!'

'Now, draw it mild, my raven,' soothed Haer'Dalis, 'We do not deserve your ire -but neither do you deserve ours.' He turned to those about him. 'The raven has told us what she needs and we should respect her decision.'

'Hear, hear,' laughed Fritha, raising her bottle in toast to him as she went back to her rum, seemingly thinking that an end to that matter. Aerie, though, was not in agreement.

'Haer'Dalis, how can you say that?'

Imoen snorted. 'Er, maybe because he is actually listening to Fritha, rather than telling her how she should feel.'

'I am trying to save her from herself!'

'Oh, of course, Aerie knows best –you'll have to bear with me, I'm not used to having two Jaheiras in the group.'

'At least, Jaheira and I are trying to help her! I have seen you -you would take Fritha's side in anything if you thought it would close the distance between you. Well, sometimes being a friend means having to stand up and say when something is wrong.'

'Yeah, I expect you'd be good at that. What is it, Aerie? Do you want to see Fritha humbled that badly? I know she nearly stole your boyfriend.'

'Imoen!'

Aerie was pink in her anger. 'I just want Fritha to trust us as we once trusted her! You have no idea of what she would have led us into, what she had us do to get you back! Vampires; thieves; we broke the law countless times, but we always stood by her! Never once did we turn our backs on her-'

Across the room, Fritha gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'Harpers'. Jaheira coloured and so did Minsc.

'Fritha, Boo says that was very unkind!'

Fritha's eyes flashed.

'Oh, yes? Well, Boo, tell that halfwit you're sat on to keep out of it! Listen to you all,' She cried, almost delighting in their dismay, 'so sure of what I need and what I should do, when you're all just as broken as I am! Aerie's petrified she's going to die down here, I've got Anomen following me about like a kicked dog,' she threw a hand to the woman opposite, 'and you're just cross because you're worrying that perhaps Dermin was right all along! Enough,' Fritha snapped, springing from her bed, the bottle still in hand, 'I will argue about this no more.'

She was halfway down the corridor before Imoen caught her, the girl having to jog to keep up even as she pleaded with her.

'Fritha-'

'Go back inside, Imoen.'

'Fritha, wait!' she snapped, grabbing her arm to finally wrench her around, Imoen's face stark white and pained in the torchlight. 'Fritha, I'm on your side.'

Fritha gave a hopeless laugh. 'Oh, it's a bit late for that, Imoen.'

'What?'

'How long were you in that asylum? Four months, as you were so quick to point out. A thief and a mage both and you still could not get yourself out of there. No, as usual, you had to wait for me to come fetch you!'

Imoen stumbled back, the words hitting her like a slap.

'You- you spiteful cow! My skills were good enough when they were picking the lock to your cage!'

'Yes, Imoen, my cage! He let you wander about free as a bird, didn't he? How awful it must have been for you to just stand there and watch as he tortured me! As he cut and burnt and tore-!'

'Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!'

Fritha was breathing heavily, her voice low. 'So don't even begin to think we're even, Imoen, that we're the same now, because we aren't and we never will be.'

And she left her weeping in that gloomy stone corridor.

...

It was very late when Fritha finally staggered back to the room and all were asleep, the low growl of snores punctuated by Imoen's moans as she tossed and thrashed in that small bed. Fritha probably would have spared her a thought, had she not been so occupied trying to walk in a straight line, her legs wobbling under her, and she was almost at her bed when her feet tripped on something. She just caught the frame in time to stop herself, hissing a curse as she hit her knee in the process. A moment to regain her balance and she was feeling down to the floor to find the trap, the rich smell of beeswax filling her nostrils before her hand had even closed upon the leather. Her boots. He'd polished them for her, and, for a moment, Fritha wanted nothing more than to hurl them viciously at Anomen's sleeping form.

Why could he not just leave her be? Why couldn't they all just leave her be?

The anger died as soon as it came, though –it was hard to hold onto, drunk as she was, and Fritha just gave up, collapsing fully clothed on the bed to enjoy a meagre few hours of oblivion.

xxx

Fritha awoke early. Well, at least, she assumed it was. Everyone around her was still sleeping, the wide, hewn tunnels of the settlement deserted as she left their room, though she did not pay too much attention: it hurt to look at things. Not that shutting her eyes gave any relief, merely giving her body the chance to focus all its attention upon the pain in her head, deep and constant, and she felt she could almost see it, a bright white knife behind her eyes. She made her way through the tunnels by short, shuffling steps, her blankets still wrapped about her haphazardly and following in a train like some bedraggled Kara-Turan princess.

She walked all the way to the outcrop where they had spoken with Goldander the day before, instantly releasing the many blankets to pool about her bare feet as she reached the edge. And there she stood, staring out into the impassable blackness of the Underdark, the cliff that fell away at her feet soon lost to her eyes and the idea she did not even know how high up she stood was dizzying, her whole chest wracked with a sharp stabbing pain as she suddenly retched.

The shakes were bad that morning. With trembling fingers, she rooted through her bag to find the bottle of spirits that had been her only friend the night before. She gargled the first mouthful, spitting it out with the sick. The second she drank though, fighting the urge to retch again as she swallowed -spirits that would have once left her throat raw, now as smooth as water, if not quite as soothing.

And that was it.

Fritha replaced the cork with a certain finality, gazing down at the bottle of thick clear glass, just a monochrome outline in the darkness of that place, its weight shifting with the liquid still left within it. Her arm was drawn back without another thought and she almost overbalanced, the girl still uncertain on her legs and staggering back from the precipice as she launched the bottle in the darkness with all her might.

No more drinking -it did nothing anyway. She stared out into darkness before her and the many challenges it held that were yet to be faced. It would take much to get them all through there alive…

Fritha felt a certain resolve tighten every muscle. She would be enough.

And she dropped to her knees where she stood, gathering the blankets back about her shoulders as she lay down at the cliff's edge and slowly returned to sleep.

…

'So you're out here.'

Fritha opened her eyes instantly, though the image they showed her did not clear for a good few moments, the blurred outline of a familiar figure slowly approaching, her long narrow frame haloed by the distant lights of the settlement.

'Jaheira,' she greeted hoarsely, sending her a smile as she half sat to notice the dark stains under her eyes. 'You look tired.'

The druid sighed. 'Imoen suffered many nightmares last night; we were awake for much of it.'

A slight emphasis to remind Fritha of her selfish, self-imposed exclusion, but she hardly cared; she had managed to avoid Imoen's hysterics, after all. Fritha smiled and shook her head, feeling amused and vaguely fond of the girl that such petty things were affecting her –how nice to still be so green, so weak.

'Ah, bless her, the goose; they're just dreams, she'll get used to them.'

Jaheira looked appalled at her good-humour. 'Just dreams? The girl is distraught!'

Fritha's anger flared with the predictable immediacy.

'Oh, boo hoo, poor Imoen. I've been having them since we left Candlekeep and I don't recall anyone else being particularly arsed about them then.'

The woman above narrowed her eyes, staring down at her as though she had just discovered something wholly unexpected and quite repulsive.

'She is your oldest friend! There was a time you have done anything to see her spared from what you have suffered. Where is your compassion, Fritha?'

Fritha knew it was an insult and a rhetorical one at that, but it did not feel like it and she attempted to answer anyway, almost curious herself.

'I don't know. I wonder if I ever had it. Whether all these things weren't lingering inside me anyway, and I just pretended to be nice and care. I don't know, I can't remember how I felt; it's fading, it's all fading… all I know is how I feel now… which is hungover, in case you were wondering.'

Jaheira snorted angrily, turning to walk back to the settlement. 'And whose fault is that?'

Fritha fell back onto her blankets, laughing into the blackness above her.

'Oh, Jaheira, where is your compassion?'

xxx

Oh, to see the sky. To feel a breeze that carried the scent of trees and rain. To hear birds and insects, instead of the dull rasp of feet on stone as they walked ever onwards. Jaheira sighed tiredly, though it was more a weariness of the spirit than the body. They had set out late that morning with their two gnome guides, Goldander gifting them with maps and other equipment before sending them on their way.

The journey had been difficult, but so more by their own limitations than their path. As their guides had gravely informed them, there would be increased numbers of drow patrols as they closed upon their city, and so they had decided to take a longer route to avoid the worst of them. But even so, they could not evade them completely, the gnomes or sometimes Fritha bringing them to a halt as they heard something unfamiliar, their lights out in an instant, one gnome scouting ahead to find the source while the other led them to cover. And there they would stay, pressed together in the darkness until it was, at last, deemed safe to move.

And consequently, six hours later and they were still walking. Their journey had taken them far across the Underdark, through narrow ravines and vast caverns and even across a great underground lake, white bodied salamanders fleeing from their lights as the men hauled them across on the waiting ferryboat, the ropes creaking with every heave and clearly worrying their guides -and perhaps with good reason, for both had admitted they could not swim.

They were nearly there now though, according to the gnomes, the way becoming steep and rocky as they led them through a forest of stalagmites. Jaheira's stride faltered as the girl just before skidded on the stony ground, the druid throwing out an arm to catch her though it was not needed in the end, Imoen regaining her own balance almost instantly.

'Imoen?'

'It's nothing,' the girl murmured, dropping back a pace to walk at her side as they continued on, 'I'm just tired –not that I need to tell you that.'

The girl dipped her head and, though it was hard to be sure in the green of her werelight, Jaheira thought she saw her blush. Imoen's dreams were getting worse by the night, and the fact she was keeping the majority of them awake as well as herself, was clearly embarrassing for her.

'No one holds you responsible,' Jaheira assured her, but the girl just shrugged.

'Yeah, but it's not just that, is it?'

Jaheira sighed inwardly. No, it was not. Imoen and Aerie had slipped into a corner that morning to share a quiet exchange of apologies –the elf had likely not even needed one, Imoen's re-appearance the night before, tear-streaked and broken, eliciting the usual sympathy from Aerie's gentle heart.

And, fortunately for some of them, Imoen was just as forgiving. Fritha had said nothing to the rest of them that morning once she had returned, but Jaheira had not failed to notice the girl take Imoen out into the corridor. She did not know what had passed between them, either the night before, or then, but the reconciliation had ended in a soft embrace, and that alone had quelled the druid's fears -for the moment, at least.

Jaheira glanced ahead to the girl herself, leading the way with their two guides, looking stern and cold in the pale blue of her werelight. Jaheira wished she could somehow get through to Fritha, but every attempt seemed to end in crossed-words. Perhaps she should just follow Haer'Dalis's example and let her do as she pleased. But, though easier it would have been, it was too much to just stand by and watch as the girl destroyed herself.

Imoen noticed Jaheira watching to send her a sympathetic smile.

'She doesn't mean what she says, you know? She told me, this morning… She wants to be understanding, to lead you all as she used to, but her instinct for it is gone and she just can't remember how anymore.' Imoen dipped her head. 'I'm starting to forget, too, aren't I? I never used to feel like this, so angry and spiteful. I'm not losing myself to an avatar, but I am losing myself all the same… I want to sit down and try to remember who I was before this, before Irenicus and everything, but I'm just so tired.'

Jaheira felt her fists clench, fighting the urge to just embrace her where she stood.

'You are still there, Imoen, inside. Do not worry; we will get your soul back and then you will know it as well as I.'

'And we are arrived,' came one of the gnomes at their head, Jaheira and Imoen halting with the others before a very solid looking cliff face. Fritha was frowning, laying a hand on the rock that seemed solid enough.

'What, here?'

'Ah, yes, surfacer, the illusion is strong, is it not, fooling the eyes and even hands of surfacers and drow alike. But we gnomes are of the granite and we know when not all is as it should be.'

The gentlest of taps with the glowing silver pick in his hand and the wall before them faded away to leave a yawning hole, so large Jaheira could barely see the roof, roughly carved steps leading down in to the darkness. The gnomes smiled and bowed in unison.

'There is your path and here we leave you. I hope the lady will hear you and help your cause.'

Fritha led the way, light aloft and sword sheathed, clearly trusting the gnomes' assurance that their contact was of good nature despite her unusual dwelling. Deeper they descended and Jaheira was just beginning to wonder what existed beneath the Underdark when the steps ended, the group walking forward into a vast natural cavern, their meagre werelights rendered pointless by the creature stood before them, her glowing scales casting all in a shimmering silver.

Imoen's delight educed more than one smile. 'Well, I'll be jiggered! She's only a bloody dragon!'

Jaheira shook her head, the girl's worries that she was losing herself seemingly unnecessary. This dragon was slimmer than Firkraag had been, and longer too, the creature padding forward on large clawed feet to stand before them.

'Welcome to my lair, surfacers. I have watched your progress with great interest.'

Along their line, Jaheira sent Fritha a very stern look, relief swelling in her stomach as the girl stepped forward and dipped polite bow.

'My lady, you honour us with your words.'

Adalon gazed down at her bowed head, coolly appraising. 'I am sure I do, but flattery is not why I have allowed you to come here.'

Fritha was already scowling, the lines of her jaw set and the druid bit back a sigh. Why did they never make it easy? The dragon either did not know or did not care she had just guaranteed Jaheira's day was now to be at least as twice as stressful as it had needed to be, Adalon's tone no warmer than her manner as she continued.

'I am Adalon, the guardian. For centuries, I have guarded the nearby path to the surface, to the elven city of Sundenessellar and the temple ruins which mark where those elves with dark hearts first made their descent and became the drow. The drow keep a city a mile or so to the east of here, Ust Natha, though for centuries they respected the borders of this place, only venturing up to the surface for sport and small skirmishes: this was the balance I upheld. But recently a crime was committed and I can no longer honour my duty.' Her great golden eyes swivelled back to rest on Fritha, 'I already know of you and your goal, godchild. You will aid me and I will aid you.'

'We will do all we can, my la-'

'Silence!' Adalon boomed, 'This is a vital matter and I will not be interrupted!'

Fritha was instantly furious. 'Vital, is it? Well, what would I know of that? I've only lost my fucking soul!'

'Fritha!' barked Jaheira, though she rather felt the dragon had deserved her temper, and perhaps a part of Adalon felt the same, her voice quieter and grave with a muted sorrow as she confessed, 'Irenicus's crimes did not end there, godchild. He violated my lair and stole my eggs. He has taken them with him into the drow city; to venture from here will mean their destruction.'

An anxious muttering at this grim news, though only Anomen voiced their thoughts.

'Irenicus has opened the path to war.'

The dragon nodded slowly. 'Indeed, he has. I cannot prevent the drow from walking to the surface as one, while they still hold my eggs as hostage. Even now, they amass armies for the attack. And so your task: you will return my eggs to me and in doing so I will give you access to their city and the two you seek.'

Fritha did not ask how or why, she merely nodded.

The transformation was gradual at first, hardly noticeable in the gloom of that place, until Jaheira glanced down to her hands and found the shadows were running deeper still, skin darkening as her fingers lengthened. She glanced up, casting about her, more than a few uttering cries of alarm as the faces with which she was so familiar changed before her eyes, skin growing darker as hair faded and frames shrank, their armour, clothes and weapons changing too, until she scarcely recognised any one of them.

'There, it is done,' said Adalon, 'You are as drow and you will assume the identities of a group from another city, Ched Nasad, who were destined for Ust Natha and who I dispatched a few days ago.'

'So do we look like them now, then?' asked Imoen.

The dragon shook her head shortly. 'No. To be frank, I paid little attention to their appearance as I killed them and all you races look alike to me anyway. But it is not important; you are known to none of that city. As I understand it from letters I found on her person, your leader, Veldrin, led you in betraying your own House in a bold grasp at power which failed. But she had already secured an escape route for such an occasion: refuge in return for service for one of Ust Natha's most prominent houses, Despana. Your contact in the city is the eldest daughter of that house, Phaere.' Adalon turned to Fritha once again, and Jaheira wondered if she imagined the subtle hint of a smile. 'The Veldrin I killed was ruthless and determined; I trust you will maintain that illusion.'

Fritha's smile, on the other hand, was anything but subtle.

'I'll do my best.'

The dragon nodded, drawing back to address them all as a group as she continued, 'Know this, though I cannot leave enter the city, my eyes see far beyond this cavern's walls. Any sign of treachery and I will know. If you endanger my eggs, if you attempt to leave the Underdark before delivering them back to me the illusion will cease. And do not think you could escape to the surface now I may no longer leave my lair. The path is guarded by the drow as they prepare for war; you would be slaughtered.'

Imoen sighed, the warning clearly disappointing her. 'We would have helped you whatever, you know.'

Adalon snorted, the puff of smoke curling in the still air. 'So you say, but I have lost trust in your kind recently. Now go.'

And with that she turned, the cavern about them growing dim as Adalon slunk away, retreating into darkness of her lair and leaving them there to gaze about at each other. Fritha watched the dragon until even the pale glow of her tail had long faded, the girl turning back to find the others behind her examining their new forms with a mix of fear and wonder. It was strange looking round at them all, some almost familiar, others strangers to her, though their manners gave each away.

A moment to crouch, and she was drawing her old bronze mirror from her bag, Fritha pleased to still be able to see a glimmer of the face she knew behind the dark skin and pale yellow eyes. Imoen was obvious too, in that she was the only girl among them Fritha didn't recognise and the first to demand the mirror.

'Well,' her friend began critically, blue eyes still examining her new face from every angle, hair still shorter than most girls', her free hand drawing it back in a snowy white ponytail, 'apart from my hair colour, I rather like the change.'

Jaheira was already at the girl's elbow ready to take the mirror from her, the woman staring at her reflection, too stunned, it seemed, even for her customary frown as she moved a finger up to touch her own cheek.

'This feels very odd.'

'Odd?' came a shrill cry but a step from her, Aerie stood there, the same in every way barring her colouring: dark skin, white hair and vivid pink eyes, her own mirror clutched in her trembling hand. 'This- this is horrible!'

'How can you say that?' laughed Imoen kindly, 'You look practically the same!'

'Exactly! It is my face and yet it's not. And my eyes!'

'Oh, no, now they're the best bit! You remind me of a pet rabbit I had back in Candlekeep.'

Aerie laughed tentatively and it seemed to calm her, the man next to her stepping closer to place an arm about her shoulders.

'Come now, Aerie, all will be well.'

'Gods, is that you, Haer'Dalis?' laughed Imoen, skipping forward to eagerly proffer him the mirror. 'Look at you!'

'Well, it is not the pleasing plumage to which I am used,' he conceded with his usual modesty, sharply handsome face frowning in concentration as he preened at his now tousled mop of pure white hair, 'but this sparrow cannot complain.'

'I do not know how you can all accept this- this abomination so readily!' cried another of their men, now much shorter and slight, his long silvery hair falling across his face as he stared at down at his new form with angry disgust.

'Anomen,' concluded Imoen firmly. Behind her, another of the men was nodding his agreement.

'To think my own body has been imbued with such fell magics.'

'And Valygar,' sighed Fritha.

And that left only one of them, Fritha turning to the man who had remained silent so far, his white hair neatly cropped and spiky, Minsc looking down at himself, bewildered. Jaheira sent him a reassuring smile.

'So, how do you like being short, Minsc?'

'It is very strange, though Boo tells me I will get used to it.'

'I shall never grow accustomed to this,' sighed Anomen crossly.

'I think it rather suits you,' said Fritha airily, turning back to the girls and leaving him to infer from that what he wished. 'All right then, names, names. Let's keep things simple shall we? That's Yaeve, Haliue, Eolith,' she reeled off, pointing to Jaheira, Imoen and Aerie each in turn. 'And now the boys: Valygar, you can be Nydren. Minsc, you are now Ilmyn. Haer'Dalis is Osfein and you can be…' she paused at Anomen, considering his long silvery hair with the slightest of smiles, 'Tann.'

'Where did you learn drow names?' asked Imoen.

'From a book of tales about the Illythiiri I read back in Candlekeep,' Fritha answered absently as she packed away her mirror, 'It had some very interesting woodcuts.'

Imoen gave a great 'Ha!' of laughter that was a pleasure to hear and Jaheira smiled as she watched the girl move off to torment Valygar with offers to rebraid his now shoulder-length pale tresses, he and Anomen struggling to tie back their hair. At her side, Fritha removed her own hairpins and shook out the feathery white mane, straight and as light as thistledown, the girl finally rising to re-shoulder her pack and send Imoen a fond look.

'Look at her: taking it all in her stride.'

'And she is not alone,' offered Jaheira, 'Your own spirits seem much improved by this.'

Fritha grinned; the gesture looked predatory on that dark angular face.

'Well, you know what they say: a change is as good as a rest-day. Right, you lot, let's go.'

But Aerie was not quite prepared yet, it seemed, the elf hurrying to halt her as they made to set out.

'But- but, Fritha-' A glanced revised things. 'I mean, Veldrin, please, I-I don't think I can do this.'

'Of course, you can, Eolith,' Fritha assured her, giving her arm what was likely supposed to be a heartening slap. 'Now, come on.'

'No, Fritha, please, you- you don't understand. I was brought up on stories of the drow, terrible stories. To be here, to have faced them was bad enough, but to walk among them in their city- I- I can't, they hunt my people for sport!'

Fritha clucked her tongue gently. 'There now, Aerie, don't take it so personally; the drow hunt everyone for sport -and I doubt they would even count you as an avariel anymore now.'

Aerie was mute in her shock, though others were not so afflicted.

'Fritha!' cried Jaheira and Anomen together, Haer'Dalis adding angrily, 'My raven, really! That you could say such a thing!'

Fritha drew back, temper flaring as she turned on her heel. 'Oh, fine then! Aerie, we're going, so get on with it. Now, come on!'

…

Jaheira kept tight hold of her staff, the feel of the wood her only comfort now even her body was no longer her own, and though her new eyes saw through the darkness as though a moon hung above them, she still wished she had the familiar green glow of her werelight, foolish though it was.

The city was not far from there, just a half hour's walk through the stalagmites to reach the long wide passage shown on the svirfneblin's map. Even here, the rock was changing, the stone floor polished by design and the passage of feet both, and finally giving way to intricate grey stone tiles that put her in mind of the sahuagin city they had not long ago left. There was a bend in the passage, tall gates slowly swinging into view, the metal twisted into a fine filigree, like the web of some great silver spider. Jaheira suppressed a shiver; though all were children of Nature, she had never been able to find the same affinity for the larger species of spider as she had other creatures.

Fritha's mood lasted all the way to the gates, though it did little more than aid her act, the girl stalking forward to meet the guard who had left his partner at his post, the man's spear already lowered at her stomach as he demanded, 'You there! Identify yourselves!'

'Stand down, male,' Fritha drawled coldly; it seemed he was too lowly for her to even waste her temper on. 'I am Veldrin of Ched Nasad. Let me pass.'

The man's stance changed in an instant, his body straightening respectfully as he raised a hand in salute.

'My apologies. We have been expecting your arrival for a day or more now. Solaufein, the commander of the Male Fighters' Society, has been awaiting you.'

Fritha frowned. 'Solaufein? I understood I was to meet with Phaere of House Despana.'

'That was so, but there has been a complication and we have been instructed you are to meet with Solaufein in her stead. He holds quarters at the society building; you should seek him there.'

'Should?' snapped Fritha, 'Do not presume to counsel your betters, male! Where is the Male Fighter's Society?'

'To the north of the city, honoured female,' he answered hastily, 'past the spider pits.'

Jaheira just suppressed a wince, Fritha nodding once. 'Good. Now open the gates.'

The city was vast, filling every inch of that equally enormous cavern, the structures built around and seemingly within the huge stalactites and stalagmites that sprouted from the cave itself in a similar way the elven cities of the surface utilised the trees. The rock shimmered with lichens and algae in more colours than she had ever considered; yellows and bronzes right through the spectrum to the iridescent blue-greens of dragonflies.

Platforms and walkways of smooth grey stone were strung between them, all carved with an intricate pattern of webs and railed with metal that stood like teeth or barbs, while clusters of luteous fungi hung glowing from the underside. Any buildings not actually carved from the living rock emulated the style. Huge stone domes that put Jaheira in mind of beehives, were set upon platforms of their own, ornate petals of metal filigree peeling back from the top of each, a nest of twisting tentacles sprouting from within: the shapeless body of some eldritch creature and providing a convenient place to spin a web for the city's many spiders.

There were layers of the city below them, just as there were layers above and Jaheira could see at least other two levels of walkways and platforms before the roof of the cavern hemmed them in –living space was clearly at a premium down there.

It was beautiful and all at once completely alien to all that she knew, and Jaheira could not quell the overwhelming feeling of dread as she stepped from the gateway.

That first circular platform housed a bustling marketplace, Fritha leading them through the stalls of goods and pens of beasts and slaves, though they seemed to be treated very much the same. Jaheira tried not to notice, but it could not be avoided, the slaves crammed into large cages along the edge of the platform, mostly drow captured from other cities or fallen houses, with a few svirfneblin and duergar shoved in with them, a small group of deep gnomes watching a slave just beyond their cage being beaten by his master with downcast black eyes.

Perhaps Fritha could sense the distress of those behind her –maybe she even felt it herself, for she quickened their pace, taking them through commotion of merchants, hawking their wares or making deals with their fellow drow as well as a handful of other races who had been permitted to enter the city, groups of githyanki, illithids, and even a beholder trading in goods from all over the Underdark and well beyond it.

They took the northern walkway from the market, as instructed, but the city was sprawling and Fritha had to ask for directions at least twice, the third and final instance seeing her collaring a gnome slave who was clearly on some other errand, and forcing him to show them the rest of the way, the svirfneblin bobbing nervously before them, clearly wanting them to hurry up lest he incur his owner's wrath and too afraid to tell them for fear of theirs.

And, at last, the building was before them, the Male Fighter's Society a huge stout spire of dusky grey stone that stretched up to serve as support for the walkway above, many oval windows winking upon its surface, their panes divided by scrolling metal frames. A small group of drow males were gathered outside, the tallest of them giving orders to his fellows before dismissing them and he seemed to turn on instinct to meet their approach. Pale grey eyes dominated his face, the long white hair tied back, his features softer and less angled than was usual for his race, though the look of contempt it wore was just the same, the male openly appraising them as they arrived. His expression twisted with a sneering frown.

'So, you are the newcomers who have been sent my way, I see. As if I do not have enough to accomplish in a day, without suffering for the welfare of the weak. I do not know what Phaere has told you, but there is no refuge to be had in Ust Natha, fools; we pay for our existence here in blood and you shall do the same -And just because you are female, do not think to challenge me,' he added at Fritha's furious look, 'You are a foreigner here and no better than a slave until the Matron Mothers think otherwise. Now, have you a name, vagrant? Or should I just call you female?'

'My name is Veldrin, and take that tone from your voice when you speak it!'

But the drow merely laughed. 'Ha! I can see already why Phaere thought to favour you. My name is Solaufein and, for now, you shall do as I say to prove your worth to the Matron Mothers. Fortunately for you, your skills will be tested immediately and you will have a chance to earn your place here in blood. You are to meet with a Handmaiden of Lolth tomorrow morning at the city gates, where you will learn more of your task.' He snorted bitterly. 'I shall no doubt be there as well, to herd you along like a nursing mother.'

Fritha smiled, a hand shifting to her hip and putting a certain arrogance into her stance; she looked to be rather enjoying her role.

'Whelps, are we? And yet you must entrust this undertaking to us; are your own warriors not up to the task?'

Solaufein frowned, but did not bite. 'Our warriors are occupied with other preparations, at the moment, and none can be spared. A suite of rooms has been secured for you at the large tavern just west of the marketplace. I will see you again tomorrow; do not be late.'

xxx

Apart from the décor and the regulars, the tavern was little different from the establishments they were more than familiar with on the surface. A large room over three tiers, the lowest one some sort of fighting pit by its look, though it was currently empty, the patrons just seated about the grey stone tables drinking, as slaves moved between them, seemingly trying to pull off the feat of being both attentive and invisible.

Two staircases led from the main room, the slave who was showing them up the left one to their rooms informing them the other led to the lust chambers, where patrons could go to slake their thirst for pleasures other than wine, Fritha just managing to take this in without pulling a face. Their suite was on the topmost floor, six rooms arranged around a small common chamber, a firepit against the back wall and already alive with bright blue flames, while a selection of chairs and cushions were arranged around it, all of the same scrolling metal and deep violet silk, thick rugs of fleece covering the polished stone floor.

Fritha dismissed the slave immediately, a few moments spent quickly checking the room for any means of surveillance, magical or otherwise, Aerie inscribing a glyph of silence on the main door before everyone, at last, seemed to relax slightly, Fritha throwing herself onto the long violet sofa with a pleased grin.

'Well, this could certainly be worse.'

'How exactly?' came Aerie's tart reply.

'Well, they could have just murdered us on sight,' snapped Imoen, perhaps recalling their previous fight as she added more kindly, 'Come on, Aerie, it's not so bad.'

'No, this ruse appears to be holding –for now, at least,' Jaheira added with a pointed glare to the girl opposite. 'You are being too aggressive, Fritha; you will get yourself killed.'

'No, I won't,' the girl laughed, 'tortured maybe, but not killed.'

'That is not funny.'

'Cyric's tongue, I know what I'm doing! We are unknown here; everyone is looking at us, waiting to see where we fit in… Utter obedience to superiors; no mercy for peers and lessers, that is the drow way, and I intend to convince as many people as possible, they fit into the latter class.'

'So, where do we go from here?' asked Anomen quietly.

'Lust chambers?' offered Imoen with a burst of laughter.

Fritha smiled, leaning back in her seat with a thoughtful sigh. 'Well, we will need to serve this house we're allied with whilst locating Irenicus…'

'And Adalon's eggs,' reminded Aerie.

'Yes, yes, and the eggs,' Fritha dismissed crossly, 'Perhaps, we'll have the opportunity to split up, or someone down in the tavern may know something –I can imagine any alliance with us lesser races is going to be hard to keep quiet. We'll know more tomorrow once we've completed this task for Solaufein.'

'Yes, the task…' repeated Valygar, letting grave eyes include them all in his words. 'I have been considering what will be asked of us tomorrow and in the coming days. We all know the evils of the drow and the cruelty of their race… How far are we willing to go for this? Torture? Murder? And not just of other drow, but of slaves or gnomes or even fellow surfacers.'

A room of dismayed looks; Aerie gave a moan low in her throat.

'Oh, Baervar spare us…'

'Do not speak His name here!' Fritha snarled, the girl looking livid as her gaze snapped back to Valygar. 'Gods help me! It would have been a lot more helpful if you'd had this attack of conscience before we agreed to Adalon's plan! We're here now and this charade must be maintained no matter what -anyone who thinks they are going to have a problem, can just stay here! I'll do this all myself if I have to!'

Fritha sighed, shaking her head at the strangers that surrounded her, their faces as unfamiliar to her as their hearts. 'Really, I don't understand your problem. There is a slave trade in Athkatla. There is a Thieves' Guild too, and the Cowled Wizards are practically a law unto themselves. There is corruption and decadence and appalling acts of cruelty. In fact, the only difference between Ust Natha and Athkatla that I can see, is that people are just open about life here. If anything, the drow are just honest.'

Anomen met her gaze firmly, the first time in days he had dared –Oh, what a time to grow a backbone!

'Athkatla is a world away from this place.'

Fritha laughed bitterly. 'Oh, whatever helps you sleep at night -speaking of which, I'm going to bed.'

xxx

Their chambers were no less lavish than the common room, spacious circler rooms, each appointed with a large leaf-shaped bed as well as tables and chairs of their own, mirrors of polished obsidian and, much to Imoen's relief, a deep stone bath –the girl had apparently not been given the chance for a proper wash from since before she had been taken. There were only six rooms to their eight, though it was hardly any inconvenience to Aerie; she and Haer'Dalis had been sharing since his return.

Aerie pulled off the dark blue robes her yellow dress had now become, the slip underneath grey and made from a soft fluid material that shimmered dully in the glow of the pale crystals that served as lamps, a large cluster of them hanging above the bed. Aerie stared down at her own arm, thin and dark like a stick of polished ebony and she could not help but touch it, each time surprised to feel the press of fingers that confirmed it was indeed a part of her. Stranger still was looking to the man on the other side of the bed, Haer'Dalis busy pulling a dark grey tunic over his head, his small body tightly packed and far more muscular than it had been. The man sent her a smile as he noticed her watching, Aerie doing her best to return it and she was glad when the lamps were dimmed and they finally got into bed. It was nice to lie back next to him and close her eyes, that alien room gone, replaced by the familiar sensation of his arms about her and, in the darkness, Aerie, at last, felt she could voice her thoughts.

'So, we are here… in the Underdark.'

The arm about her tightened for a brief, reassuring moment.

'That we are, my love. A city under the sea, and now one under the ground: to think I would return to Sigil with such memories.'

'You sound pleased,' she sighed, turning to lay her face against his chest, his hand idly playing with her hair.

'Perhaps that is not the word, but I cannot be distressed at new experiences -it is not in my nature.'

'Even when they have you to play a role that is so against character?'

He chuckled at her turn of phrase. 'You do not wish to go through with our performance, my love?'

'No…' she confessed, feeling the weight of her decision settle in her heart, 'quite the opposite… What Fritha said to me earlier, about me no longer being an avariel-'

'She should not have said that to you!'

'No,' Aerie conceded, unable to feel a rush of pleasure at his vehemence, 'but… but, I really think she was trying to make me feel better. Did you see how hurt she looked when you all shouted at her? And before when she said I was scared of dying down here –she was right, I am. But if we don't all pull together I will… we all will. Fritha knows that, she feels it pressing on her, knowing she must lead us through it and it is driving a wedge between her and the rest of us.'

The elf sighed, shrugging slightly, Haer'Dalis instinctively pulling the blanket higher up her shoulder as she continued. 'You weren't here before, when Anomen first told her of his feelings. He had been the only one she had been confiding in for a time, with Jaheira's guilt keeping her away and the resentment over your leaving still lingering between herself and I. And then when he confessed to liking her and Fritha lost Anomen, as well, she went a bit odd; she had lost the one person she had left to talk to and I think it upset her, too, knowing what she could not have-'

'Or should not want!' added the tiefling.

'Haer'Dalis,' Aerie tutted, lightly tapping his chest in punishment. 'Fritha was in her own world half the time, talking to herself more and more. And when I eventually asked her about it, she said it was the only way she knew how to go on.' Aerie eased herself up onto an elbow to better see the stranger she knew so well. 'I think she's doing the same now. She's just carrying on as best she can, trying to remember the person she was and be like her, to support us, but it's all been twisted and remembered wrong. And, I- I don't want her to have to support me.'

'No,' agreed Haer'Dalis sternly, 'you certainly do not, if her previous observations are how she is to present the thing.'

Aerie sighed, falling back to the pillows to gaze up at the dark ceiling.

'Oh, Haer'Dalis… I want to support her. I thought, at first, that she was burying her fears, that if we could only get her to speak of them, she could return to who she was… But, she isn't that person anymore. Fritha as we know her has gone, and she doesn't need to talk or tell us how she feels; she knows it won't change a thing. She just wants to get us all through this alive and I want…' Aerie sighed, knowing it would be a lot of effort for so little an aid, 'I just want to be one less thing for her to have to worry about.'

Haer'Dalis was laid on his side, raised upon his elbow and watching her.

'Then we will, Aerie.'

'We will?'

The man beside her smiled and for the first time she felt she could see the face she knew behind that dark mask.

'Truly, you think an actor such as this sparrow could miss this opportunity?'

Aerie grinned, her heart suddenly lighter –wherever they were, in whatever skin, she would always have the comfort of his presence.

'Oh really?' she teased thoughtfully, 'So, if I were to say: bring me some wine, male!'

'Oh, male, is it?'

And any other orders she could dream up were lost to her shriek as Haer'Dalis pounced on her, their laughter leaving their first kissing pleasantly breathless as their mouths met.