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

90. A dagger of the mind

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: I feel I should mention here, that the following chapter, while not strong enough to warrant an increase in rating, does contain some scenes that some readers might find more mature in content. If anyone feels this may offend them, then please just PM me and I will send you the 'aeroplane edit'.

A dagger of the mind

Fritha kept her eyes down, tracing over the back of the two dark hands she had rested on her bent knees. They had been there so long now, she felt as though she had committed every inch of that cramped room to memory. It was a good thing they were drow or she doubted they would have all fit inside, the room made up of three curved walls and two plain doors: one solid, the other barred and leading into the cell next door and, most importantly, both locked. Everything barring the doors was covered in mottled stone tiles of blues, pinks and greens that made her head ache to look at too long, almost as though colours were ever so subtly moving. Not that Fritha had any reason to look up; the scene had not changed since they had awoken there. The seven angry scowls borne solely for her, the air clouded with animosity, so thick Fritha fancied she could taste it; a bitter mist of heavy pointed sighs.

They had been just outside the city gates when Fritha had told them she had decided where they would be harvesting the Elder Blood. The others had tried to dissuade her, had said the Kuo-Toa or Beholders would prove easier targets, but Fritha would not hear of it. She knew what would curry the most favour with Phaere, knew just how she would present her prize to Ardulace and her daughter, and no one was going to rob her of that advantage.

Which is why they were now languishing in an Illithid cell and everyone was quite content, some could even say obliged, to blame her. The voice behind her eyes trilled a kindly laugh.

Now, did we forget the teachings of the sages so soon? Pride cometh before a fall.

Fritha allowed herself a smile, comforted by the camaraderie of it; the Illithids would get such a prize in her, two minds for the capture of one.

…

Jaheira stared up at the tiled ceiling, the others sat in silence about her, their stance and outlook just as bleak as her own as they awaited their inevitable meeting with the Illithids. They had been imprisoned just as they had been taken, no attempt made to disarm them, though it made little difference. To meet them in the Underdark would have been unfortunate enough, but to be caught there in their hive, where the creatures could communicate telepathically over distance and slay with but a thought…

At best, they would be made thralls, at worst, they'd be food. Jaheira sighed; they were the walking dead.

The druid leaned back and let her gaze drift about her. She had a place on the long stone bench that ran along the back of the room, Imoen, Valygar and Anomen taking up the rest. Aerie and Haer'Dalis had found a place at her feet, the tiefling leaning back against the wall and gently stroking the head laid in his lap, Minsc on Aerie's other side. And furthest from them all sat Fritha, in the far corner on the other side of the room, her back resting on the door to the adjoining cell, eyes downcast and mouthing in silent conversation with herself. The druid watched her smile and a voice at her side, shrill with anger, cut through the heavy stillness.

'How can you sit there smirking after what you've done?'

Jaheira winced. Imoen in her new guise, her slight frame no longer huddled next to her, but sat up, dark face alight with anger and streaked with frustrated tears. Fritha was staring back at her impassively and Jaheira knew this would be it; the thing had been building between the pair for too long now for this to be defused peaceably, though she felt it was her duty to try, gently placing an arm across the girl's shoulders.

'Now, Imoen-'

Imoen shrugged her off, an accusatory finger thrown at the girl opposite. 'You've doomed us all! We all wanted to go after one of the easier marks, but, no, you insisted we hunt the Illithids and now look what's happened!'

'Imoen,' interrupted Aerie, glancing warily between the girl and Fritha as though worried one of them would suddenly explode with the avatar of a dead god, 'Fritha did not know this would happen. We should all just calm down, blaming each other will help no one.'

Imoen did not hide her scorn. 'Oh, Aerie, save your spineless 'let's all be friends' rubbish for the circus!'

'Do not speak to her like that!' snapped Haer'Dalis.

'Imoen is merely voicing her opinion,' interrupted Valygar sternly and in a manner that indicated he could feel quite a bit of sympathy for it, 'No one is attacking Aerie.'

'No, you're just attacking Fritha!'

'And so what if we are?' snapped Imoen, whirling back to the girl still hunched in the corner before them, her attention returned to her knees. 'You've been like this for days now, swaggering about like you're Bhaal Himself. Well, you're not! This is your fault, Fritha! Don't you care? Don't you care you've murdered us all? Say something!'

Silence. Fritha was still gazing down at her hands, looking small and frail and, for a moment, Jaheira thought she would finally let them in, her voice hoarse and trembling with emotion.

'I've read so many books like this; where the hero has lost their path and suddenly realises the error of their ways. They always say something like, "Ugh, I've been such a fool, pushing you all away, making things worse; please forgive me…"

Fritha looked up, her face twisting with a sneer as she spat the words at them.

'But this isn't a book and I don't feel like that, so sod off!'

Imoen's stricken cry pierced Jaheira to her heart. 'Anomen was right; you are a monster!'

'Imoen!' shouted the knight, Minsc looking just as horrified.

'Girls, Boo says we must not fight!'

But Fritha was shaking her head, eyes still fixed on her friend as she made to rise.

'Oh really? A monster, is it? Well, just be thankful one of us is! You may cry on about me being hard and cruel and some terrible beast of a person; well, I wonder how long we would have lasted if I was being as pathetic as the rest of you.'

'And how would you know?' demanded Valygar, 'You never allow us to leave the inn.'

'Well, haven't you changed your song?' Fritha laughed bitterly, 'You said it yourself, Valygar: what are we willing to do to fit in? Anomen and Jaheira know what it takes. How easy it is to sit there and judge! To watch as your enemy dies a sword's length away –how nice! Not for you the intimacy; the body grasped to yours, both locked in frantic embrace as you wait to hear that snap! I am your monster and your saviour both! Look upon my darkness as you follow me to the light; shake your heads in disappointment as you trample the bodies of my fallen; revile me even as you fall to your knees in tearful gratitude! I am your-'

'So, we were not the only ones to be caught in the Illithids' web.'

Her tirade died in an instant, Fritha whirling to meet the sallow angular face that had appeared at the twisting bars of the adjoining cell, his voice undulating with an alien accent and ironic humour both. 'Greetings, blade-thieves, I thought we had lost you to the sahuagin's feasthall, though I see you sport different skins now.'

Fritha sighed deeply. 'Oh, arse! Look, I know you lot are all hell-bent on revenge, but this really isn't a good time for us.'

The githyanki captain nodded solemnly.

'No, nor we, but destiny has bound us in the same fate. We of the Githyanki attempted to planeshift, but our ship was caught in the Illithids' psionic webs. Now we are forced to fight for the Illithids' enjoyment. These seven are all that is left of our crew. We are just returned from the fighting pit and we hear from the jailer that we two groups are scheduled to fight next.'

Fritha just barked a bitter laugh. 'Well, at least you'll get something out of it: the killing of your blade-thieves and in front of a crowd too. Of course, you might not win…'

'We will no longer fight for the enjoyment of our most hated enemies!' roared a voice from somewhere behind him. The captain barked something in his own guttural tongue into the cell at his back and all fell silent once more. Fritha sighed as he returned his attention to her.

'So, what now then?'

The captain sent her a critical frown. 'We of the Githyanki bear a special hatred for the Illithids, one that overrides the blood-debt between us… for now. Should we join as allies, we may be able to find away from this place, where one would have failed.'

Fritha turned back to those behind her, a room of people she had not long ago been screaming at, and gave a contemplative shrug.

'What do we think then?'

A round of glances followed by a scattering of tentative nods; Fritha turned back to the door.

'All right then, what's the plan?'

'As you likely know, the Illithids are strong here in their home. They have the power to slay at will and escape is impossible. But we of the Githyanki have power of our own and I believe we may be able to disrupt the Illithids and allow another to make an escape. When we are called to battle, we of the Githyanki will meditate within the arena, pushing back the minds of the Illithids and holding them still. You may then open the arena doors and make your escape. We will keep them distracted as you search their twisted city. Kill the Hive Mind and the Illithids' power will be gone, all doors will be freed and the path out, both astral and physical, will be opened.'

Fritha nodded once. 'You're on.'

The captain showed her a mouthful of pointed uneven teeth in what could have been his attempt at a smile.

'Then ready yourselves; the time for battle is at hand.'

…

Long tense moments in that dark tunnel cramped together waiting, a nervous energy building between them. Anomen was close behind her and Fritha would have told him to step back had she thought enough about it. The portcullis rose, the ogre thrall pressing them forward with a grunt and suddenly they were out, the arena stretching above her, row upon row of squirming faces staring down at them as the Githyanki filtered in similarly from other side. The thing that struck Fritha was the silence, not the fervent roar of the bloodthirsty crowds, the air instead thrummed with a quiet chittering, just on the edge of her hearing, as though it was bypassing her ears to hum across her brain.

The Githyanki were taking up their positions on the other side of the arena, Fritha deploying her own group with a few barked orders, the chatter to the air finally fading in anticipation of the command that echoed through her mind.

FIGHT!

And fight they did, but not each other, the Githyanki immediately dropping to their knees, the air vibrating as they pushed back the minds of the Illithids. Panic in the stands, the creatures gliding hastily to the exits, some clearly sending out orders while they could, the gates at the far end of the arena swinging back as three umberhulks pounded into their midst.

'Valygar, Minsc, get on the gates,' Fritha shouted, throwing a hand to the large wooden doors behind her that had yet to have some foe sent through, 'The rest of us protect the Githyanki.'

Fritha ducked, thrusting at the narrow chink between the sections of armoured carapace, the creature moving just in time, sending her blow glancing off its shell, Haer'Dalis on its other side trying the same. Anomen and Jaheira were having far more luck than she, stave and mace causing damage wherever they landed, Aerie and Imoen behind them calling their magics. One umberhulk was already on its back, the unpleasant scent of burnt hair lingering about them.

A shout from Jaheira and a second of the creatures met its end, a vicious jab crushing its small mandible-dominated face. Fritha danced back as the umberhulk took a swipe at her, its attack finally giving Haer'Dalis the chance he needed, the creature screeching as he drove the two short blades in between the thick armour plates, and hurriedly withdrawing them again as the creature rolled on its side.

Behind them, Valygar and Minsc had just managed to unbar the gates, their smaller forms making it all the more difficult even if their previous strength seemed unaffected. Fritha glanced back, the Githyanki now seemingly protected by their own psionic bubble –they looked as safe as anything was in that place.

'Fritha!'

She followed them, racing down the narrowing corridor to pile through the small door at the end, Valygar slamming the door shut behind them, looking as though he would have liked to bar it as well, though there was no lock. The room was little more interesting than the cell they had left, just a small circular chamber, three doors leading from it, Fritha moving to the centre already giving her orders.

'Right, we need to find a way to the Hive Mind. Aerie can- What?' she cried, frustrated as she finally turned back to see the gathering of wary faces, 'Gods, are you all still angry at me, because this really isn't the time.'

Jaheira stepped forward to broker the peace. 'Now, Fritha, we are not angry-'

'The Hells we aren't!' snapped Imoen, 'The way you've been treating us lately -screaming at us back there, just leaving us to rot in that inn, while you go skipping about the city with Phaere!'

Fritha snorted. 'Oh, come off it! Phaere calls me and I go. And why should I take you along? Quite apart from the fact you spoke out of turn within mere moments of meeting the woman, the more of us out of the inn, the greater the risk of us being discovered. I call upon you when I've need.'

'So you just use us?'

'Oh, grow up, Imoen,' sighed Aerie, 'that is what leaders do.'

'Yeah, and just look at where she's led us!'

'Yes, and now I'm getting you out.'

Imoen's scornful laugh rang about the small chamber. 'Ha! If it weren't for those Githyanki, we'd still be stuck in that cell! You've done nothing!'

Fritha quirked a knowing smile that was sure to infuriate her. 'Haven't I? The Fates will provide, Imoen.'

'Stop saying that!' the girl shrieked, 'You're not special, you're just a- a monster!'

'Imoen!' shouted Anomen, looking furious that his one worst indiscretion would not be allowed to fade. But Fritha just laughed gently.

'Don't worry, Anomen, you can't keep parroting the same insult and expect it to have the same sting. Truth be told, there was only one instance when that word hurt. Besides,' she sighed, sheathing her sword as though resigned to having to delay their escape for an explanation, 'I am not a monster. But this place requires a certain act, and I do not think you like that I make it look so effortless.' She shook her head. 'I am sorry I brought this doom upon us; you think it arrogance, but Phaere will hold a special hatred for the Illithids since they shamed her with capture, as will her mother on whom all humiliations reflect –a strike against the Illithids will bring great favour with our only allies, and it is favour we need if we are to find those eggs.'

'Then why didn't you just tell us that?' cried Imoen. Fritha shrugged.

'I seem to recall a time when the others, at least, trusted me. Perhaps I am mistaken -the memories are fading…'

'Oh, Fritha,' Anomen sighed. The girl's face was hard once more.

'Save your whimpering; it helps no one. We are wasting time- Aerie, can you summon some sort of map of this place?'

The elf shook her head. 'I'm sorry, I think there may be too much latent energy in the air already for me to be able to summon a clear plan –oh, but I might be able to create a compass that will lead us to the source of great psionic energy nearby. It should lead us to the Hive Mind.'

'Wonderful. Imoen help her. The rest of us-'

Her command was lost as the door behind them flew open, a brief glimpse of the arena showing the Githyanki still knelt in ritual before the doorway was filled by their ogre jailor, the creature joined by two Kuo-Toan thralls as they burst into the room. Aerie and Imoen hurried back, letting the others rush forward to meet the creatures as they worked on the spell, the elf trying to block out the sounds of the battle as she worked.

'Jaheira, at your flank!'

'I see it. Minsc, will you mind your backswing!'

Imoen was at her shoulder, watching as Aerie drew the runes straight onto her palm.

'The rune for power, then mind, then attune-'

'Try the one for focus, it might work better –here,' a tingle as Imoen quickly sketched it onto her palm, the power in her hand growing with every symbol.

'How are we doing there, Aerie?' Fritha panted, the elf glancing up to see her turned to face them, Anomen and Valygar shoving the bodies back out into the arena as Minsc waited to shut the door.

One final rune, a flash of energy and it was done.

'Right, I think we've got it,' Aerie announced, a golden arrow of light floating above her raised palm. 'It's pointing northwest.'

'Of course,' snorted Valygar, 'the one direction there isn't a door.'

Fritha shrugged. 'Right, north it is then.'

The Illithids seemed to have marshalled their forces in the time this had taken though, umberhulks and other thralls released throughout the complex, the group battling onward, the occasional Illithid caught in the mêlée, seemingly more by accident than intention –Fritha could not imagine that the creatures would willingly enter battle without their psionic abilities.

'Hurry!' shouted Minsc, Fritha just whipping through as he slammed the door shut on the two remaining umberhulks, the surface shaking as the creatures collided with it and then all fell silent.

They were in yet another circular chamber now, though it was thankfully empty, unlike the last three had been, all of them cut and bruised from their running battle. Two doorways were leading from the other side, Aerie and Haer'Dalis already before them trying to decide the way, Imoen hovering behind Valygar and Jaheira as the woman prepared to relocate his shoulder.

'Minsc, come here, I need something for him to brace against.'

Minsc smiled to her as he passed, Fritha sending a glance to the door behind, before turning her attention to her arm, blood running from some unseen wound to patter on the tiles beneath.

'Do we know the way yet, Aerie?' she asked absently, wondering if the cut was worth the hassle of removing her shoulder guard, the metal easily parted by the umberhulk's long claws.

'Ah, not quite yet…'

'Should we even be doing this?' asked Imoen of the room, 'Getting the blood for Ardulace, I mean. They are going to use it to summon this ally and attack the surface.'

Fritha shrugged mentally, trying to worm a finger into the gash in her armour to assess the wound beneath.

'The only thing keeping us alive at the moment is our alliance with Despana. We go back in failure and we go back dead. Besides,' she sighed, giving up on her arm –it had already stopped bleeding, 'for all we know, this is but one of many ingredients; we want to stay in the city long enough to locate the eggs, then we need to follow orders.'

Fritha turned with the intention to join Aerie at the doors, only to walk straight into Anomen, his new form shorter than hers by a disturbing inch, though the look of insipid worry on his face was more than familiar.

'Your arm, Fritha.'

'It's nothing.'

'Perhaps-' he ventured, moving to take it. She wrenched it back with a pain that flared all along the limb.

'I said it's nothing!'

She turned her back on him, no longer wanting to speak with Aerie or anyone else, the girl walking a few paces to linger on an empty side of the room, her mind providing her with any company she desired.

Gods, one moment when you're not telling him what a snivelling dog he is and he thinks it's all forgiven between you. And I can't believe they fell for your apology.

'I wasn't lying; I am sorry they feel this way. They don't understand what this place requires… perhaps it is better off that they don't.'

Now don't start on with that, petal; that slave, those pit fighters, they asked for all you brought them -as did this lot here today.

'Oh, don't,' muttered Fritha, her embarrassment surfacing anew as she recalled her tirade of self-proclaimed divinity.

Come now, you have to admit it was pretty funny. Where did all that come from?

'Oh, I don't know. I don't even believe half of it. I'm just glad the captain interrupted me before I screamed claims of my shining divinity.'

Warm laughter behind her eyes. I am your GOD! Ah, priceless. But you could be though…

'Fritha?'

She snapped back to find the others staring at her; more than a few of them were frowning.

'We've decided?' Fritha asked, strolling over to them. Aerie shook her head.

'I'm sorry, but I really can't tell, it just holds its point west.'

Fritha shrugged, drawing her sword to point at the north-western door. 'No matter; this one then.'

…

All figures whipped around as they entered, the handful of Illithids rushing vainly to meet them and protect the huge glass vat behind, scores of milky white brains suspended in the putrid grey liquid.

The fight was short and brutal, and moments later their group was standing, splattered in the milky white blood, the fallen Illithids scattered about them. Fritha sheathed her blade; her arm was bleeding again, her own mixing with the Illithid blood to trickle down her arm in rose pink paths. She smiled at the strangeness of it, and stepped forward, the words suddenly echoing across her mind and she could tell the others heard it too, a hundred voices serving one consciousness.

STOP. YOU WILL NOT HARM US. THE GITHYANKI WILL BETRAY YOU. SPARE US, KILL THEM AND WE WILL ALLOW YOU TO LEAVE.

'The Githyanki enabled this escape,' began Fritha, speaking the words aloud more for her companions' benefit that its, 'even if they try and kill me afterwards, they earned this.' A nod to the elf, 'Aerie.'

NO!

The word screamed through her mind, Fritha vaguely aware of the others doing the same as she winced, cradling her head, Aerie ignoring the pain to raise her hands. Electricity danced across the pool, the viscous liquid seething and, at last, her mind fell silent. Imoen stepped closer, peering at the steaming grey pool with revulsion, whorls of heavy white blood seeping from the brains within.

'Mmm, brain soup.'

'There,' sighed Fritha, dipping a hand in and swirling the vial it held around to ensure an even mix of liquids, the warm slime clinging to her arm as she withdrew it. 'Let's get this back to Phaere.'

A tingle behind them, the air quivering; the Githyanki had arrived.

'You have killed the Hive Mind,' confirmed the captain, without pleasure or pride, 'we are free to leave this place.'

'Well, don't let us keep you,' encouraged Imoen.

The captain made no reply, just stared about them all, eyes finally coming to rest on Fritha.

'When we next meet, we will be allies no longer.'

Fritha sighed absently, scraping the last of the slime from her arm. 'Yes, yes, see you later then.'

A puzzled frown and the Githyanki were gone. Fritha rolled her shoulders and drew her blade; they had a fight to the exit yet to face.

xxx

A day later and they were at last back in the city. Fritha left the others at the door to the inn, the girl heading straight to the Female Fighters' Society to deliver their prize. A slave showed the way, leading her up the curving stairwell to halt before the entrance to the large training hall, the room empty save for one combatant, Phaere fighting with one of the practise posts that lined the edges of the hall, a fine sheen of sweat highlighting her muscles as she ducked and parried.

'Er, mistress-'

'I told you I was not to be dis- Veldrin!' Phaere cried, whirling back to find her there and suddenly she was marching over to them. 'Veldrin, you have returned! You were away some time; there were fears you had been killed.'

Fritha smiled, her reaction encouraging. 'Not killed, but captured –let us just say the devourers will not be daring to attack any daughters of Ust Natha for some time to come.'

Phaere laughed, her expression twisting back to her customary frown as her focus shifted to the slave still lingering uncertainly behind them.

'You may leave! Come, Veldrin, we can speak of this in my rooms.'

...

Phaere whirled to her as soon as the door was shut.

'You have the blood?' Her face lighting with a before-unseen joy as Fritha handed her the vial. 'Outstanding Veldrin! We must get this to Matron Ardulace this instant.'

And Fritha sat at the table, accepting Phaere's offer to help herself to wine as woman moved into her bedroom to wash and change, Fritha describing for her their trials with the Illithids –taking care to add that they at the last betrayed their githyanki allies and left them dead in amongst the corpses of their most hated enemies. She could hear Phaere's smile a room away.

Ardulace was every bit as pleased as her daughter, though far less eager, the woman giving the vial she had been presented a modest smile before concealing it safely beneath her robes.

'You have done well, daughter; rise both of you,' she ordered mildly, Veldrin ensuring she was just a fraction behind Phaere as they moved to stand before the woman, the small library empty save for they three. 'The Spider Queen smiles upon us this day. With this the ritual may finally be begun.'

Phaere could barely contain her jubilation. 'Praise Lolth! Despana will rule Ust Natha as the greatest house in memory!'

'Indeed,' warned Ardulace soberly, 'but we must be cautious, daughter, ever cautious. There are a many within the city and without that would see us fail, and there is much still to do before our house may lead the armies to the surface.'

Fritha could taste it; the moment was finally arrived when confidence and conceit had reached their peak, her voice tempered with just the right amount of hesitance as she ventured, 'Forgive me, mistress, but what of the rumours -that the path to the surface is guarded by a dragon?'

Ardulace indulged her with a condescending laugh.

'I think you will find we have taken the tooth from her bite.' The two women shared a knowing smile, Ardulace turning to lead the way. 'Come Veldrin, you have proven yourself worthy of this honour.'

Back down to the entrance hall they went, but they did not leave the temple, the guards stepping forward to open those bright silver doors and there it was, the hall of worship, a huge circular chamber of pale lilac tiles, a stone altar set in the centre, the surface stained deep russet with centuries of sacrifices. No rituals were in session at the moment though, a scattering of acolytes supplicated before it, keeping up a constant chant of prayers and praise, the image of a spider carved from obsidian suspended above, crystal lamps reflecting on its eight ruby eyes as though it was alive, its form mirrored by the many giant spiders that spun and scuttled in the beams about it, the sacred creatures given the freedom of that holy place.

Ardulace was already moving forward and Fritha followed, trying to somehow will herself smaller, shrinking back from the consciousness that suffused that place. They did not proceed into the temple proper though, instead taking the stairs that followed the curving wall up the right of the room to a plain door, Ardulace dismissing the two Handmaidens on guard there as she brought a small golden key from her robes.

Fritha felt the magic prickle her skin as she followed her through the open doorway, the air thick with wards and a stifling heat, two golems stood on silent sentry either side of the glowing grate opposite, the small room lit by the silvery glow of the three perfect eggs. Fritha felt a smile pulling at her mouth and she let it blossom as all her hopes bore fruit. They were smaller than she would have expected, little larger than yellow-skinned melons the Athkatlans had imported from warmer Calimshan, the three packed carefully in fleece and laid side by side within a long metal case, the air about them rippling with the heat from the brazier beneath.

'There, Veldrin, our leash upon the dragon.'

Fritha moved forward a step, but went no closer, her awe one of the few genuine emotions she had expressed down there.

'They are beautiful; I look at them and I see power.'

Ardulace merely smiled, ushering them back out on to the stairs, the golden key turning in the lock to be concealed under her robes once more, before she led them back down to the entrance hall.

'I shall go now and begin the preparations. The ritual is complex and requires much planning -ah, but a few more days and we will be ready to strike!' The woman turned her attention to her and Fritha dropped her face even as she heard the cold pride swell. 'Veldrin, you have done House Despana the greatest of services and in the coming victory you will be a female without equal. But now it is time for you to celebrate; go and revel in your victory.'

The pair bowed and remained so until Ardulace had turned and left. Fritha kept her expression carefully neutral in her growing hopes, though Phaere was hardly as cautious, the woman's eyes fixed upon the closed doors and there they stayed for a long while afterwards.

xxx

All eyes snapped to her as Fritha burst through the door, two bottles of the dark wine hanging awkwardly from each hand and a grin on her face.

'Wine for everyone!'

'You have news?' pressed Jaheira as soon as the door was shut.

'Only the best! House Despana were the ones who made the deal with Irenicus, they hold the eggs even now. They're at the temple of Lolth. I've even seen them –admittedly in a room thick with wards and guarded by golems and priestesses both.'

Jaheira seemed relieved in spite of this. 'At least it is a lead.'

'Yes,' nodded Fritha, 'and with it comes a plan. With the Elder blood, they'll summon this ally –no, I still don't know what it is, Imoen- and when the city marches on the surface, the Matron Mothers will likely turn their attentions there and, with the eggs under less scrutiny, we can enter and steal them back.'

'But what of the elves?' asked Aerie, 'Won't that leave them to battle the drow and this ally?'

'Well, I'm sure they can hold their own for a while, until we give Adalon her eggs, and then she can help them if she wants.' Fritha sighed, her good humour waning in face of their doubts. 'I know it's not the greatest plan, but it is the best hope we have of making it out of here in one piece. Come on now, help me open this wine.'

It was not much to celebrate, but with everything that had happened lately, all seemed willing to see the best in it. Fritha quickly retired to her room to wash and change, and something of her old self seemed to have returned as she padded back through, barefoot in deep ink blue trousers and her favourite green jerkin, the girl sat on the sofa, one leg pulled under her, as she laughed at Imoen and Haer'Dalis.

'So, what are the lust chambers actually like then?' the girl teased. Haer'Dalis's expression was carefully neutral.

'I surely would not know, my robin.'

'Oh, did Aerie not take you? Aerie, I'm impressed.'

'Really, Imoen,' the elf laughed airily, 'if you are that curious you should merely visit them yourself.'

Imoen grinned. 'You're right, Aerie; how about it, Vals?'

Valygar choked on his wine, though whether from her wink or her nickname it was hard to determine.

'Vals?'

Imoen was nodding brightly. 'Yeah, I think it suits you, brings out a more carefree side to your character.'

'You have a more carefree side?' muttered Anomen. Valygar shrugged.

'Not that I was aware.'

Fritha smiled, ruffling the girl's hair. 'Sorry, Imoen, I don't think it will stick and, besides, that nickname is already taken by young Valsben of Imnesvale.'

'Gods, Fritha, not another of your admirers, I hope; I'll be counting them on my toes soon.'

Fritha laughed along with everyone else, shaking her head. 'No, no, he was a little young yet for me –though his fiancée took quite the shine to Anomen.'

Imoen sent the knight a sneer. 'By Mask, was she mad?'

'I wondered the very same myself, my lady,' he quipped, and even Imoen could not begrudge him a smile as those about them laughed.

The knock at the door almost drowned in the noise of it. Fritha was still smiling as she rose for it, the girl having a quick conversation with whoever was on the other side and the room behind her was silent as she shut it again, marching past their inquiring looks to disappear into her own chamber.

'Fritha?' call Imoen, thrusting her wine at Valygar as she made to stand and follow, when Fritha reappeared in the doorway looking grave. Her boots were back on, the girl busy strapping her long dagger to her hip. Jaheira frowned.

'Fritha?'

'It was a messenger from Phaere. I am to attend a gathering tonight at House Despana. The male is waiting outside to accompany me.'

Imoen's look of disappointment could have broken a drider's black heart.

'You're going out?'

'That's what I said, didn't I?'

'You're going to a party,' the girl glanced about the rest of them before confirming, 'with Phaere?'

Fritha sighed tersely. 'Yes, with Phaere. Is there problem?'

'No, I was just wondering when she became your new best friend.'

'Probably about the time you lot became so fucking annoying.'

'Oh, yeah? Who died and made you Bitch Queen of the Realms?'

'Well, I would say Jaheira, but here she is, whole and hale before us. Look,' Fritha snapped over the predictable cries of her name, 'I cannot refuse Phaere and we all know it. Why do you lot always have to be so bloody difficult?'

'Because we're worried!' cried Imoen.

'At least, allow someone to accompany you,' reasoned Anomen.

'No, you are all rubbish at this!' Fritha held up a hand to continue over the cries of outrage, 'With the exception of Aerie and Haer'Dalis, and I have no reason to take a male when there will be so many there anyway, and I have no idea what entertainment they will be laying on at this thing –I don't quite trust Aerie's wholehearted participation if we're going to an orgy of torture and tight trousers. I'm going to this gathering and I'm going alone, so you're just going to have to get on with it!'

A room of downcast faces. Fritha sighed, seemingly wrestling with herself as she added, 'We are getting closer, just- just try to enjoy the rest of your evening.'

A moment to turn and straighten, the girl shaking back her long white hair with an imperious toss of her head and she was reaching for the door, Veldrin once more.

xxx

'There, mistress, that platform houses Ust Natha's first and greatest mage academy –it is said the founder created the whole building in but a day with his sorceries, though it was so many centuries ago and none still live to confirm it.'

Fritha said nothing, merely nodded for him to continue. Her escort was quite chatty once he realised that daring to speak to her was not going to be rewarded by some harsh dismissal or worse, the messenger showing her the sights of his native city as they made their way to the seat of House Despana -speaking of which.

'And there, mistress,' he continued, pointing to the large stalactite before them, the tip descending well bellow the level of the walkway to be lost to the darkness, 'That is where the mighty House Despana holds it power. The house was founded…'

Fritha let his noise wash over her, glad to be able to put off her act for a few more blissful moments. There were many who could have said that she was born to this role, but it was hard all the same, showing even the harsher side to her nature an effort in the growing void within, and something not made any easier by the constant and very obvious disappointment she saw in the others each time she did.

They reached the entrance and the messenger fell silent once more, pounding the large metal ring three times into the stone door, a slave appearing to show her through to a large, well, throne room for want of a better word, beautiful crystal lamps suspended above, the bright mosaic of purple, black and gold spiders winking underfoot. The hall was crowded with drow, slaves moving among them with trays of silver cups, the gathering looking all the greater, reflected as it was by the band of polished obsidian tiles that encircled the smooth walls. There was a dais set at the far end, a large throne in the centre, still empty even now –a deference to Matron Ardulace, she suspected- an arrangement of smaller chairs set about it where a group of clearly high ranking females were seated, watching the throng, Phaere at their centre and smiling as she saw her.

'Veldrin, you have arrived. Excellent, now our celebrations may truly begin.' She stood, nodding to the guards at the door, the men leaving at her gesture. 'My mother has a gift for us, Veldrin, a reward for our service. And here arrives our entertainment,' Phaere continued, raising her voice for the ears of all, the crowds falling back to the edges of the room, a thrill of anticipation lighting more than one face as the guards led two pale-skinned surfacer elves towards the dais, battered and bloodied, but still quite whole, the men stripped of their armour and weapons, and Fritha felt an icy dread fill her stomach. Phaere smiled, retaking her seat and gesturing to the empty chair beside her for Fritha to do the same.

'Theses two were taken by our scouts in one of our initial raids. We brought them to our fair city that they may get a taste of the Ust Nathan hospitality we will be bringing to their city.'

A murmur of grim laughter travelled the room. The two elves either did not understand drow or were merely trained to ignore them, the elder of the two staring up at Phaere from the foot of the steps, his face set with a stern pride, his younger companion trying to affect the same, the soft glow of the lamps glistening on his sweating skin; he was barely more than a boy and he was clearly terrified -something in which Phaere was taking great pleasure.

'Listen to me, surfacers,' she continued in elven, Fritha knowing enough of the tongue from her studies to understand her. 'You will now fight each other for our entertainment.'

'The elves will never raise a hand against their kin,' barked the elder warrior. Phaere laughed, his defiance merely prolonging her pleasure.

'Oh, but fight you will. The pale elves and their nobility: so easy to manipulate. You will fight and attempt to kill your young brother here, if only to spare him from a worse fate. The victor of the bout is to be tortured to death in sacrifice to the glory of Lolth. Guards, a sword for each of them. Now take your positions.'

Fritha watched, her face a mirror of those about her, an eager smile plastered to it as she tried not to twitch with every blow. The elves duelled with a fierce speed, even the younger one focused as they each fought to spare the other from such a fate, and Fritha wondered if either of them had ever wanted a kill more. She felt sick.

Not long now, petal, just keep still, not much longer…

The elder elf feinted left, not even bothering to guard against the slash to his leg as he brought his sword up and the lad coughed up a shower of blood, the liquid pattering on the tiles like a scattered applause as the blade pierced his lung.

He collapsed to the ground, his killer falling soon after him through more from a wretched exhaustion than any physical wound, the elf gazing down at the blade he still grasped as though contemplating using it on himself when the two guards were upon him, wrestling it from his hand, the sword clattering to the tiles as they dragged him to his feet and back to the dais, strong hands at his neck forcing him to kneel before his patron. Phaere smiled generously.

'Very good, surfacer, you truly seemed to savour the kill; perhaps you were not such good friends as we had first assumed.'

'Black-hearted monster! I spit on your name and your goddess both!'

'Take him to the temple,' snapped Phaere, 'I want to hear his screams all the way from the altar.'

Fritha watched as the guards hauled him upright, a nervous fear twitching in her heart.

Now, Fritha, petal, there isn't anything you can do for him- Fritha- Fritha, no!'

She turned to Phaere.

'He fought well. Perhaps, I should escort him with them; it would not do for our prize to escape his captors and get loose in the city.'

The woman smiled. 'Well thought, Veldrin, you may go.'

Fritha nodded her bow, rising to trip quickly down the steps and catch up the guards who were roughly escorting him out, the elf dragging his heels and struggling vainly, his efforts making it all the simpler.

Fool! Don't do this! You'll kill us all!

'Move your feet, filth!' she snapped, striking him sharply between the shoulder blades, the guards unprepared for this shift in weight and he dropped forcibly to his knees –just at the point where lay his dead friend. His reflexes were keen, the discarded blade suddenly in his hand and he had straightened, cutting the nearest guard from groin to chin before any could react.

But she was not so caught out, her dagger already singing through the air, his bright red blood arcing out like a fountain as she cut his throat.

'Well struck!' cried the guard behind her. Fritha whirled to him, the hatred very easy to come by.

'Bite your tongue! I should have cut lower; he may have lived to meet the Handmaidens yet!'

Phaere nodded succinctly, sauntering down from the dais with a commanding smile. 'True enough, Veldrin, but you reacted quickly and well. Guard, remove the bodies –their sight sickens me.'

…

Fritha leaned back in her chair, taking a long draft of wine and feeling very much outside of things as she watched the people about her laugh and talk. Musicians, all slaves, had been brought in after the entertainment had finished, the beat-heavy, undulating music filling the room and the majority of guests were lost in dance, her eyes drawn to the dark stain that lingered in the centre of the hall, the chaos of feet tramping indifferently over it doing nothing to help it fade.

Fritha did not feel bad; she felt nothing and that was even more worrying, the weight of her actions hanging on her, a dull burden upon her heart. She knew what she had done was wrong, an awful, terrible thing, but she had done it for the right reason. At least, she thought so, but without any feelings on the matter, guilt or otherwise, she was finding it hard to decide. An evil for a good; did that mean it somehow cancelled out? That she did not feel bad because, indeed, she should not? She did not know –yet.

Oh, there were such things to look forward to should she eventually get back her soul.

'Veldrin,' called a voice somewhere to her left, Fritha straightened as the crowds parted before Phaere, two males following in her wake and Fritha recognised one as the short well-muscled man from her bedroom days before.

'Veldrin, are you still over here sulking?' the woman laughed, 'Come now, I know you desired to see that elf dragged screaming to the Handmaidens, but your instincts do you credit. Here, this will help you to a better mind. Yajei.'

Phaere looked to the well-muscled man at her side, the male producing a small vial of clear liquid from his pocket and placing a few drops upon his tongue, Phaere already upon him, their mouths closing in a hungry kiss. The long-haired male on Phaere's other side was holding a similar bottle, the man letting a few drops fall onto his waiting tongue with an expectant look. Fritha rolled her eyes, impatiently snatching the vial from him.

It was very sweet, like syrup only much less viscous, as thin even as the rum she had long left behind. She ran her tongue over her teeth, the feel of the smooth slick ivory somehow more intense and she was suddenly very aware of the hairs that were just brushing her shoulders and the jerkin that clung to her back and the heart that was beating in time with the music. Phaere was leaning on the male, Yajei, a feline smile gracing her features as she watched her.

'There now, Veldrin, is that better?'

Fritha nodded, suddenly unable to stop grinning. Phaere laughed.

'Good. And now we dance.'

Fritha had lost all track of time. She was vaguely aware of the others leaving the dance floor, though Phaere had made no indication that she wanted her to follow and Fritha had stayed there, losing herself to the rhythm as she swayed and spun, enjoying the sense of closeness with the strangers who moved similarly about her, all one within the music. The crowds shifted and, every now and then, and she would catch a glimpse of Phaere, reclined upon her chair like a queen as various males and the occasional female waited upon her every whim. Fritha felt herself smile as she turned and was faced with her own reflection in the polished obsidian panels that lined the hall. It seemed not even Adalon's power could disguise the true nature of her hair, the straight downy tresses reverting to frizzy curls in the humidity.

She turned and dipped to the music, letting it fly about her as it willed and catching Phaere's eye in the process, the woman straightening slightly to beckon her across.

'Veldrin, you have been upon the floor for hours now –such endurance; you put my males to shame.'

Fritha just smiled, brushing the untamed tangle of curls back from her face.

'I like to dance.'

'Indeed, though your hair seems to disagree… Galinid, give Veldrin your tie.'

The long-haired male did as he was told, loosing his hair from the bright green cord to hand it to her, not foolish enough to presume to help her himself after before –the men of the drow learnt quickly.

'So,' continued Phaere, watching as Fritha combed her hair through with her fingers and deftly tied it back, 'how are you enjoying our entertainments here in Ust Natha; are we outshone by Ched Nasad?'

Fritha was already shaking her head 'No, no, not even close. I feel… I feel whole.' She laughed, suddenly filled with a wild joy that no charade, however vital, could quell, 'I feel whole!'

…

Fritha stretched where she was sitting, shifting to throw her legs over one armrest and lean back against the other. She was tired, her previous instance of ruthless mercy still gnawing at her and she had not even herself for company –her mind still refusing to speak to her since their little disagreement. The stimulants had worn off at about the same time the gathering had finally disbanded, Fritha going with Phaere and an honoured few upstairs to continue the revels. A burst of laughter from the group of males playing some sort of dice game by the firepit, their small company kept in constant flux by the demands of the females around them, the men being called away to pour wine or accompany a woman into one of the various adjoining rooms. They had seemed just as happy to attend to her earlier on, but she was not even drinking now and had no need of anyone but Phaere, the woman disappearing an hour ago with her current favourite and another male who Fritha did not know, and Fritha did not dare leave without at least informing her.

She closed her eyes and just managed to suppress a yawn. She never thought anything could be more boring than Deril's party, but here she was. At least, her feet didn't hurt.

'Veldrin,' came that familiar voice, Phaere appearing in the doorway opposite and only half dressed, no sign of her men and Fritha suspected this appearance was but a break between bouts. 'Veldrin,' she purred, closing to her and Fritha rose instinctively, the woman letting a hand trail down the side of her face. 'My beautiful Veldrin, the jewel of Ched Nasad. You are enjoying the celebrations?

'Yes, indeed,' she lied. Phaere smiled, lightly patting her cheek.

'You look weary, my pet, you should return to your quarters at the inn. I may well have a task for you tomorrow and it would not do for you to be tired. Alak, Tebryn, you will escort her.'

xxx

Jaheira pushed the steamed molluscs about her plate, no stomach for breakfast even when it had been she who had insisted they all go down to the tavern as usual, the sounds of the others eating about her grating on her already fraught nerves. She had tried to wait up for her the night before, as the others had trailed reluctantly off to their beds, Anomen finding her asleep on the sofa early that morning, the man grimly informing her he had checked her room and Fritha was still not returned.

One by one the others had rejoined them in the suite's common room to hold a nervous meeting. It was hard, assuaging their worries when still so riddled with her own, Jaheira assuring a distraught Imoen that if something had happened to her friend, then someone would have at least arrived to tell them by now, if not to secure their arrest. The best thing they could do was just to act as though everything was normal –the irony of such words not lost on the druid as she sat there in the body of a drow, in a city leagues beneath the ground.

The creak of the doors, every head at their table whipping to the sound and the relief over them was tangible as Fritha entered with two men, the girl laughing at something one of them had said, leaning closer as though to kiss him when instead she slapped him sharply across the face. Neither he nor his friend were offended though, the men smiling broadly as they bowed and together left, Fritha turning to swagger up to their table and throw herself into the nearest empty chair.

Jaheira barely trusted herself to speak, her voice holding none of the cold indifference she usually tried to express as she sighed, 'Veldrin, you were away all night; where have you been?'

Fritha merely shrugged, nodding her thanks to Haer'Dalis as the man passed her a cup of ale.

'Told you, a party -though I suppose it was more of an orgy towards the end.' She yawned widely and rubbed the back of her neck. 'Quite boring actually. The gathering itself though was enjoyable enough –the dancing especially, it went on for hours, a whole orchestra of instruments and the drums! So deep, so loud, shuddering inside me,' Fritha stretched eloquently, sighing with just a hint of a groan, 'Ah, I feel as though I've lost my maidenhood.'

Imoen snorted the ale she had just drawn into her dish, the faces of those around her twisted with shock and Fritha sent them a scornful look. Hypocrites! What she only spoke of they had all done; who were they to suddenly get all prim?

Ah, enough of this; it was time to sleep.

Fritha drank deeply, setting the cup down and about to leave when the doors banged open again and a male wearing the wide-sleeved coat of a messenger entered, the mark of House Despana bright on his chest. He glanced about the room briefly before his eyes came to rest upon their table and Fritha watched as he marched straight across to kneel next to her chair, taking a plain mother-of-pearl box from his bag to proffer it to her.

'For you, mistress.'

Jaheira sent her questioning look and Fritha took it without a word, removing the lid to reveal a set of beautiful jet combs; the larger one in the centre, the shape of a rising sun and inlaid with silver, it was surrounded by four others, each double-pronged like snakes' tongues with a pattern of spiders carved upon the bridge.

'There is a note, mistress,' came the messenger again, and she turned to receive the square of folded parchment, breaking the seal to read the easy flowing hand.

"If your nature was tamed as easily, you would not serve me half as well."

Fritha smiled slightly. Phaere's compliments may not have been particularly abundant, but she could not deny that when they came they made an impression.

'Wait here,' she ordered casually, rising with the box in hand and returning to her room, laying it carefully upon the dresser to root in her bag, finally withdrawing a long string of pearls, the globes glowing a ghostly white in the light of the lamps. It had been with the things gifted to them by the rebel prince in the City-of-Caverns and probably served some sahuagin quite well as a choker, though for her it was nothing less than a rope and had to be looped over at least twice to make it anywhere near wearable.

It was a deeply extravagant gift, an easy match of the one she'd received and she lay the beads down next to the box on her dresser, enjoying their rattle before she stooped to pull from her bag a sheaf of vellum and a handkerchief, the white linen now silk of pallid yellow.

Half the dresser was already covered in her styluses and inks, and she selected a dark red one, enjoying the slightly jarred feeling to her writing as her hand formed the unfamiliar script.

"I slit a Kuo-Toan throat for these; every drop a measure of a life ebbed away."

She smiled as she looked over the verse, before adding underneath, "May they serve your neck better."

The yellow of the silk seemed to have given the pearls an almost osseous tinge and with the dark red ink already drying to a russet on the fine vellum, it made for a very morbid gift. Phaere would love it.

She placed both the pearls and note upon the handkerchief, gathering up the corners to tie with the bright green cord Galinid had given her, before returning downstairs. The messenger had taken a chair in her absence, though he stood quickly when he saw her.

'Return this to your mistress,' Fritha dismissed without a glance, turning to her own companions to add, 'I'm retiring for a few hours; Phaere might be sending a summons over later –see that I am woken the instant it arrives.'

xxx

Jaheira drew a steeling breath, holding it for an instant before releasing it slowly as she raised her hand and knocked, opening the door on darkness.

'Fritha?'

A gasp, Fritha suddenly upright in the gloom and visibly relaxing back against the scattered pillows of her bed as her eyes found her.

'Ah, Jaheira, it's you.'

'You said to wake you when Phaere's messenger arrived. We are to meet her over at the city gates within the hour.'

The girl was nodding, rubbing her knuckles over her sleepy eyes. 'Good, good, thank you.'

Jaheira felt sympathy twist her heart; she looked so tired.

'Another nightmare?'

Fritha just shrugged, swinging her legs from bed to pad over to the large stone bath, the girl turning the valve and steam began to rise in delicate tendrils as hot water gushed forth.

'How have Imoen's been?'

Jaheira sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted herself, and sinking onto the bed she'd just left, the blankets still warm. 'She seems to be coping…'

Jaheira watched as the girl crossed to her bag, pulling out various bottles to set them on the desk above.

'Perhaps, if Phaere sends her slave back over here, she can have a massage; I found it very relaxing.'

Jaheira shook her head, wondering just where her young friend had gone. 'You truly are enjoying it here, aren't you?'

Fritha snorted. 'You've been speaking to Anomen.'

'And what if I have?'

'Oh, it's none of my business. Like I once said to Aerie, if either of you want to make an honest man of him-'

'He is in love with you, Fritha!'

'No, Jaheira!' she snapped, straightening with a jerk, her anger suddenly fading in a sigh as she dropped her attention to the desk, 'No, he's not. He told me back on the ship: he follows for duty, no more.'

The druid watched her absently play with one of the bottles.

'You still feel something for him, don't you? How else could you be so, if it was not still hurting you?'

But the girl just laughed. 'Feel? I remember what it was like to feel, but do I anymore? No, there is nothing there now.'

Jaheira sighed, heeding her to move on to the unwelcome task that had brought her there.

'Fritha, I want to talk to you.'

'To me or at me?' the girl quipped, back at the bath and pouring a decent measure of perfumed oil into the churning waters.

'To you,' the woman repeated firmly, 'Fritha, we all spoke last night after you left. There are worries concerning the line between your act and your true feelings in this charade. That perhaps you are, ah-' How had the bard phrased it? 'losing yourself to the role. Your words in the Illithid Hive-'

'I've already apologised for that,' Fritha interrupted flatly.

'Well, yes, but that you said them… and last night –I understand that you had to go and even alone, but your anger at us goes beyond all endurance -the fact we can do nothing but wait, while you take everything upon your own shoulders, and the strain is beginning to take its toll.' Jaheira hung her head, ashamed to admit it. 'We did not just talk last night, Fritha, we fought. Imoen was in tears again and Aerie wasn't much better, even Minsc lost his temper in the end. If you could just talk to them, try to help them see that you are still yourself and calm their worries. I understand this act is difficult for you-'

'Do you?' the girl asked quietly, staring back at her and Jaheira had to fight against turning away, 'You know what I have had to do to maintain our illusion here, Jaheira -do you think it ended there?' She turned away, watching the oil's ever-changing patterns in the swirling water. 'Do not speak to me of feelings and difficulties. I act as I must to keep us alive; it takes all my energy and I have not the means left to coddle you lot as well.'

Jaheira was on her feet, marching to her side, the girl dancing back a step as though frightened of her passion.

'Fritha, listen to me, please. We followed you; different as we all were, you were our link, you were the heart of this group and without you it is floundering! They are losing faith in you, not as a leader, but as a person!'

Silence. Fritha was gazing up at her, the distance between them much lessened by their new forms and Jaheira could see her own image reflected in those pale yellow eyes. When she spoke her voice was softer than she had heard it in a while.

'Then help them. Our roles have changed, Jaheira; where once you led, now I do, and where once I eased the path of our companions, now another must take my place. This act… I make it look so effortless, and I am sorry I do, because it is not… I cannot be the person I was, and you cannot help me, either with this pain or the task upon us. But you can help them. Keep them together. I will get us out of here alive; you can make sure there is something left for me to save.'

Jaheira stared back at her, wanting to cry 'no!' Wanting to grab and shake and soothe and just make her come back, that smiling young girl who danced and laughed and took such joy from life. The druid dropped her face; was there anyone less suited to the role? She sighed.

'I will try.'

Fritha nodded and turned back to the water.

xxx

Phaere and Solaufein were in their usual positions just beside the city gates, the former watching the marketplace with narrowed eyes while the male behind her leaned back against the railings, sending a sullen frown to anyone who dared glance his way. It was Phaere who saw them first, the woman grinning broadly as she found them in the crowds.

'Veldrin, it is good you have arrived! Up until now, I have only had the company of the wretch, Solaufein.'

Fritha smiled slightly. 'Had I known you were in such dire straits I would have come sooner.'

Phaere's face lit with her laughter. 'His pathetic melancholy nearly drained me of my good humour; how easily you restore it, Veldrin. Well, shall I be brief then and send you on your task?' the woman continued, throwing a poisonous glare to the still sulking man behind her, 'You would like that, would you not, Solaufein?'

'Just get on with it,' he spat, at last riled, and Phaere glowed, she and Fritha sharing a spiteful smile at their small victory.

'Very well then. The Matron Mothers have decided the deep gnomes have not been showing enough fear of late and so it is time to teach them the error of this. A small patrol of young scouts was sent out on a similar task some days ago, but failed to return. It has, therefore, been decided that you are to finish the task.'

Even Solaufein's cool indifference could not be maintained in the face of this insult.

'You… you would have us kill gnomes? I am to waste my time on this triviality? I have better things to do, woman!'

Phaere arched a coldly contemplative eyebrow. 'Better things than to serve the Matron Mothers? Than Lolth?'

'As if the Spider Queen cares what we do with the gnomes!' Solaufein shouted, Phaere squaring up to his insolence as others in the marketplace behind them turned to slyly watch.

'Do not argue with me, male! You have been instructed to go and you shall! Leave now, slaughter one of their pathetic patrols and bring me back some trophy as proof of the deed! Farewell.'

Solaufein watched her stalk off through the crowds, a path clearing before her, his hatred and frustrations building to a momentary madness as he roared after her, 'May the Spider Queen bite at your heart, bitch!'

The iron grip of fingers snapped about his arm and he whirled, hand upon his sword hilt ready to strike out at the sorry fool who had dared laid hands upon him. Intense yellow eyes stopped him dead.

'Silence, fool,' hissed Veldrin, the woman rigid in her stance and barely moved but for the hand slipped forward to grab him, 'Do you wish to bring upon us a most unwanted interest?' He followed her eyes as they shifted pointedly back to the marketplace. Before the stall in the far corner, flanked by two acolytes as she let her stern gaze travel the citizens about her: Handmaiden Imrae.

Solaufein drew in a long breath and reined in his temper as Veldrin released him to offer calmly, 'Indeed, if you feel that strongly about attending to this, we can go without you.'

Solaufein glanced back to her, looking for some sign she would betray him of his reluctance later, but her face told him nothing. He sighed inwardly, wishing and not for the first time that he did not have to be suspicious of every little thing.

'Are you sure you can handle-?' he began, before shaking his head, 'It is an insult to even ask you.'

'I am sure we can manage; I don't even know why the Matron Mothers wish to bother in the first place, but who am I to question?'

Solaufein scowled, his attention shifting back to the marketplace Phaere had just left. 'This was no task from the Matron Mothers. Ardulace, or rather, Phaere wants us out of the city.'

Veldrin quirked a knowing smile. 'And now you get to stay… Well, banality awaits.'

And with that she turned to go.

'Veldrin, you do not expect-' cried Ilmyn, Veldrin's voice even as she cut him off.

'I expect you to hold your tongue, male, unless you wish to lose it. Farewell, Solaufein… good hunting.'

He nodded once and watched as she barked a few short orders to her group and together they fell into formation and followed her through the gates.

xxx

'Veldrin,' cried Aerie, hurrying to close the gap between them as they left the tunnel and set out eastward back toward the svirfneblin settlement. 'Veldrin! Do you truly intend to go through with this?'

'Of course, she doesn't!' snapped Jaheira, clearly taking her earlier promise to heart, though her approach needed work. Aerie was still waiting to hear this from the source though, Fritha skipping forward a step to feign a theatrical swoon.

'Oh, that you should even ask such a question; have I fallen so far in even your starry eyes?' she teased, though it lacked her usual venom and the elf took no offence anyway.

'You have a plan then?'

Fritha smiled, turning to continue their path.

'I have many plans.'

'And do you care to enlighten us of them?' snapped Anomen. Fritha giggled lightly.

'And ruin the surprise? Come now, Tann, is it so very difficult to work out? Phaere wants a trophy and we will fetch her one.'

And under her instruction, they made their way back to the site of their slaughter but days before, the bodies of the young drow scouts now stripped of equipment and quite a bit of flesh; in the Underdark nothing went to waste. Imoen had been rather distressed by the sight and the smell was hardly pleasant either, and by Jaheira's suggestion they moved further east towards the gnome village to await the svirfneblin patrol for whom their once opponents had themselves been sent.

The Spider Queen, or perhaps the more benevolent Tymora, was smiling on them. Only an hour later and the rattle of armour broke the silence they had been stood in, Fritha waiting until they were almost upon them before stepping from their cover to halt the six-strong patrol with but a word and demand the leader's helmet.

The gnomes had been predictably surprised by this, but Fritha was not in the mood to offer excuses -or perhaps she just did not want to break character- the girl bluntly offering them the choice of handing over the helmet or she would be taking it with his head, and it fell to Aerie to quickly explain that they had been sent to kill them for their perceived arrogance towards the drow, some mindless slaughter to remind them their dark neighbours were to be feared, but such task was, quite frankly, beneath them and the proof of the deed would be enough.

The gnomes had still been reluctant to give up a helmet for Phaere's prize, though it seemingly stemmed more from wariness at their mercy than the request itself, as though it was some sort of trick to catch them for a worse punishment. Fritha was fast losing patience with them, the metal singing as she drew her blade.

'I'm not going to ask you again- give me the helm or I will take both it and your lives with it and leave your bodies for the spiders!'

A hastily whispered discussion, and the leader stepped forward as one approaching the executioner's block to remove his helm and place it reverently in her waiting hand.

Fritha smiled cruelly and sheathed her sword. 'Good, now off you go and tell your masters that if they wish to avoid their pathetic settlement being wiped clean from the face of these caverns, they had better come crawling on their hands and knees to our Matron Mothers with tithes and tributes.'

Her act was flawless and it left Jaheira cold. The druid watched as they bowed and hurried off to take news of the encounter back to their village, Fritha turning back to the rest of them with a cheerful smile.

'There, I think that went rather well.'

'You would,' muttered Imoen.

'Young Haliue,' said Minsc warningly. Fritha ignored them both, turning expectantly to Anomen.

'Your mace, Tann; the honour of the kill can go to you.'

Anomen handed it over without a word, Fritha setting the helm on the dusty ground before them and hefting the mace lightly before striking it once to put a large dent in the temple. Just a moment to draw her knife, and she was merrily smearing her bloody palm about the inside, the girl seemingly proud of her handiwork as she finally finished, gazing over the battered helm with a fond smile, blood from her sliced hand running over her fingers to pat on the ground below.

'There, perfect.'

…

The march back to the city had been uneventful to the point of boredom, apparently leaving certain members of the group with a good opportunity to forget about the dangers of that place and focus on the really trivial concerns.

'My feet are killing me,' Imoen whined as they finally left the marketplace, the welcome sight of the inn looming before them. 'Six hours round trip and all to fetch that stupid helmet; Phaere had better appreciate it.'

Fritha frowned, pushing open the doors before her. 'Phaere-'

Was right in front of them, the whole of the inn watching the woman no less than scream at the male in front of her, Solaufein facing up to her with a reckless arrogance Fritha had never expected of him.

'How dare you disobey my orders! Insolent male!'

'Your orders? I was led to believe they came from the Matron Mothers!'

'Worm! Is the mighty Solaufein losing his stomach for blood? The Spider Queen would be displeased to hear such, I think.'

'I save my wrath for the drow's true enemies! Lolth knows this, as does my own house.'

'It is not for you to decide, male!' Phaere shrieked, looking like she would cut him down where he stood, 'I shall have your bloody heart ripped from you on the altar should you continue to speak!'

Solaufein barked a cold laugh. 'You should be so fortunate, Despana bitch! Act and you risk war between our houses. How would Matron Ardulace see that?'

'About as favourably as I see this.'

Fritha felt her body tense, her head dropped on instinct as she felt the woman and her two attendants sweep in the doors behind her. Phaere's face was a mask of undisguised horror.

'H-Handmaiden Imrae.'

'Indeed.' Cold red eyes fixed immediately upon Solaufein, his head already lowered as the priestess closed to them. 'You need to learn deference to your superiors, male. Take him to the temple for instruction.'

The two acolytes stepped forward to escort him, the man shaking the hand roughly from his shoulder and turning to stalk from the room; if he was going, he would do so under his own will, the two women hurrying in his wake. Fritha watched him pass, thinking herself overlooked in his current troubles when he turned to catch her eye and she fought to keep her expression neutral in her rising dismay.

The whole room seemed to be holding its breath as the Handmaiden turned her attention finally to Phaere.

'As for you, daughter of Ardulace, I suggest you better control your temper, lest your mother hear of any more such scenes of you humiliating yourself.' Imrae's face twisted with utter disgust. 'Arguing with a male in the tavern before all –such emotional outbursts are not fitting for one of your rank, and Ardulace may come to feel you would benefit a return to the temple for a continuation of your education.'

'Yes, Handmaiden.'

The priestess nodded as well, quiet talk finally returning to the tavern as she turned to sweep out, leaving Phaere stood in the middle of the room looking rather lost, the woman clearly shaken and trying to affect her usual cool bravado as she turned at last to notice them.

'Ah, Veldrin -do not look so wary, my pet; Solaufein told me how he deserted you at the gates, the arrogant worm. But I knew you would not be foolish enough to defy me.' Phaere smiled, reaching out to accept the helmet, 'Very good –oh, you are wounded.'

Fritha glanced down, as well, examining her now bandaged hand with a grin.

'Yes, one of the little worms caught me; he squealed like a rothé calf when I gutted him.' She gave a bark of laughter that Phaere shared. 'Yes,' Fritha continued blithely, 'all slaughtered and in such a way as to leave no doubt of their assassins.'

Phaere nodded, seemingly more herself by the moment. 'Excellent, I'll warrant the worms are scrambling to make tribute as we speak. You should rest now, Veldrin, I will take news of this to Matron Ardulace, but come to my chambers tomorrow morning, there is something I would discuss with you.'

Just a moment to see her nod and Phaere turned on her heel to sashay out.

'Something she wants to discuss with you; I don't like the sound of that,' murmured Imoen.

'Perhaps she has another task for us,' offered Aerie.

'Then why not say here?'

Fritha let their chatter wash over her, watching Phaere's retreating back with tired eyes and wondering what it had felt like to be so frightened.

xxx

Fritha watched the lamps above her, the pale yellow crystals bathing her upturned face in their weak glow and, if she narrowed her eyes just enough, she could almost pretend it was the high winter sun she had long left. The others had retired a while ago, but she had remained there in the tavern, slowly making her way through a bottle of the dark heavy wine and thinking as the place emptied about her.

She was dying.

Before it was just a word, but lately… She could feel it now, not a feeling of emptiness, of something draining away as she had once perhaps believed it would be, but a sharpening of things, everything about her, sights, thoughts, even feelings brought into keen focus. Her memories were fading; who she had been, now no more real to her than the character in some story she had read long ago, her very being fixed and focused solely on her one last desire: to get them all out of there alive. The others did not understand, could not, they thought she was losing herself to something evil… Perhaps she was, and she wondered if even sweet Durlyle still felt his sacrifice had been worthwhile…

Well, if not that's his problem- you're doing what you have to and it's not like the others are helping.

Fritha snorted and raised her cup for another mouthful. 'Amen, sister; that they are not.'

They all hate you.

Fritha sighed. 'No, they don't, they just don't understand me now. I don't understand me now, but neither do I have the will to worry about it. This is about basic, physical survival and if this is who I must be to get us out of here and her soul back, then so be it.'

Fritha glanced up as the doors swung open.

Solaufein's here; we'd best stop for the moment.

Solaufein walked down the main aisle, the tables about him empty for the most part and he was glad of it. He would never have willingly shown any weakness, but the fewer pairs of eyes he had to maintain his stance for the better. He held himself up straighter as a pair of red-eyed females glanced up to watch him pass and was rewarded with a painful twinge all through his back. The Handmaidens had been thorough; Phaere's power was growing that even the temple of Lolth had taken note.

Solaufein did not know why, after almost a decade of her goading, he had suddenly snapped. It was true that Phaere had been exercising her authority more and more since Veldrin had arrived, but she was no worse than how she had been when she had first returned from the Handmaidens all those years ago, the girl thirsty to prove to all that she had no feelings for him, or anyone else for that matter. But perhaps it had been to do with Veldrin, not the change it had wrought in Phaere, but the way her arrival had highlighted the difference between the two women: one so angry and hate-filled and quick to temper, and the other so calm and cool with that rare dark humour. The way she never raised her voice, or seemed to feel she had to prove herself by debasing her subordinates, or-

His thoughts stopped there as his eyes drifted unconsciously to the corner that usually housed her group and he found her at the table. She was looking fair, even by her standards, leaning back in her chair with booted feet resting nonchalantly on the table before her, her fitted green jerkin showing every supple line and long white hair bound back with thick gold bands. She was gazing up at the lamps, her expression unusually pensive, sad even, though it was gone the instant she noticed him.

'Greetings, Solaufein,' she called out as he approached, taking her feet from the table to straighten politely, 'Help yourself to wine.'

He nodded his thanks and sank into the chair opposite, her eyes watching his every movement as he took a cup from the tray before him and poured himself some of the dark liquid.

'The Handmaidens kept you all this time?' she inquired casually, not waiting for a reply as she continued. 'I am sorry; it was not my intention to earn you a reprimand.'

Solaufein snorted with the expected contempt. 'Your pity is a weakness.'

But she merely shrugged delicately. 'And yet, it remains.'

Solaufein watched her as she mildly took another sip of wine. How easy for her to do and say the things he had held in his heart for almost all his adult life, and he wondered from where it stemmed: the arrogance of someone who was unconcerned about the unwelcome attentions such open kindnesses could bring, or perhaps it was the company… Did she see something in him, something that showed her such compassion would be tolerated, and he recalled her fleeting look of dismay as the acolytes had taken him.

'I thank you,' he began slowly, watching her face for any reaction, good or bad, 'But it was not your fault. I acted rashly. So,' he continued with a sour sigh. 'You enjoyed your venture out of the city? The indiscriminate slaughter of a dozen deep gnomes; it must have been quite the test of your skills.'

He wondered, for a moment, if she would take his mockery as an insult to her, rather than the one who had given them the task, but the girl merely snorted, utterly unruffled in either case, it seemed.

'I do as I am ordered and I present to Phaere what she wishes to see.' She sent him a measured look over the rim of her cup. 'We are all players in this game, Solaufein, and fill our roles as best we can. It is just that some of us are having to do a touch more acting than others.'

He stared back at her, while under the table his hand twitched over his sword hilt. Did she know? His voice betrayed nothing of his fears.

'And do you present to me what I wish to see?'

Veldrin smiled, something of the previous sadness back to her eyes as she confessed, 'Perhaps, but I will certainly not work to convince you either way.'

She leaned forward and topped up their cups, adding another half-inch to his even though he had yet to touch it and he took the small sliver vessel into his hand as he finally questioned, 'So, what are you doing here?'

'Thinking.'

'About?'

'Ched Nasad,' she sighed, her eyes drifting back up to the crystal lamps above them. 'We have the same enchanted stone lamps about most of the city, but in the main hall of the Female Fighter's Society there is something quite different. There is a rare species of fish found living in the nearby caverns that has developed a unique luminescence to distract potential predators. From the high rafters of that great hall a dozen huge glass bowls are suspended, each teeming with those bright little fish, the glow they emit changing as they swim and distorted by the water, so the room ripples with light.'

Solaufein swallowed a mouthful of the oily wine, wetting his lips to offer, 'It sounds very beautiful.'

The girl shrugged, unusually bitter as she took another long draft. 'It is gone to me now –it is pointless to dwell upon it.'

'Do you miss Ched Nasad?'

'I miss not having to dance to others' whims, but apart from that,' she shrugged again, 'places are all the same in the end. Have you ever left the city? –been to another, I mean. After all, we have all visited the surface on occasion.'

She was smiling to herself at some private amusement, perhaps recalling a glorious victory over some surfacer settlement and he wondered how she would laugh if he told her about his own more fondly remembered experiences: sneaking up to sit in the long grass under the leafy roof of the forest he knew grew just above those lofty caverns and try to catch a glimpse of his beloved Eilistraee's moon.

'I have been to no other city, but the surface, especially the lands near here are well known to me.'

Veldrin looked surprised. 'Truly? I know there is path, indeed the first path, to the surface near to here, though I thought a dragon guarded the way.'

Solaufein smiled slightly; the tavern gossips had been hard at work.

'You know of the dragon? She does indeed guard the main path, but there are places in the caverns nearby where narrow tunnels lead up to the surface. They are only wide enough for small groups though, not the armies they are amassing now and the grounds around here are known for their instability; the fissures and tunnels change from tenday to tenday.' He made a show of glancing about him. 'But I am sure discussion of the local geology is not what brought you here tonight.'

The girl nodded, making no attempt to hide the desire in her eyes as they raked over him with new interest.

'Perhaps, but they say that the teller makes the tale… We could talk on this privately, if you wish; my room is just upstairs.'

He gazed at her, feeling the hungry burning of his blood. He was supposed to be moving away from this: congress for just the sake of it. But it had been a while and perhaps it was not merely her physical aspects he found so appealing. She was watching him, still mild and calm not the least bit ruffled as she added bluntly, 'If you don't want to, just say; I'm hardly ordering you.'

Solaufein smiled slightly and dipped his face. 'As you will it, mistress.'

Her burst of laughter sealed the thing.

...

The small common room of their suite was empty, the girl leading him across and straight through the door directly opposite to her own chamber, her belongings scattered about and giving it a more comfortable feel than he was expecting. Veldrin had already unbuckled her sword, throwing it to land on a pile of clothes in the corner as she continued their previous talk.

'There, take the chair, if you will. I shall order more-' her words lost to a sharp gasp as he pulled her to him, his lips instantly finding her neck. A moment's scuffle as she shoved him roughly back, clearly shocked, a hand already drawn back to strike him and Solaufein felt his stomach twist as he realised he may have misinterpreted her offer. But her surprise was gone as quickly as it had surfaced, her expression unreadable as she gazed up at him, and when the blow came it was it was no more than a caress, light fingers tracing down his cheek and she was still frowning slightly as she leaned in to kiss his throat.

Ched Nasad, it seemed, was a world away from Ust Natha. She did not bite or strike or claw, the only occasions her teeth were borne: when she would arch up her body to graze her mouth along his ear, the tickle of her breath only heightening his pleasure. She had set a pace much slower than he was used to, her hands running lightly over his back and flanks, urging him deeper as she quivered under him, her whole body tensed and trembling slightly, as though unseen muscles were straining for something.

The thing was done now, the pair laid in the bed, silent and quite apart, Veldrin's pale yellow eyes trained somewhere above her as she stared into the middle distance, her face as unreadable as her thoughts.

His voice was hoarse after so long in silence.

'Did you take pleasure?'

His question broke the mood.

'Yes, very nice,' she sighed dismissively, turning her back on him as she nestled down in amongst the blankets presumably to sleep. 'You may leave now.'

Solaufein sat, shifting from the bed to quickly find his clothes and throw them on and he left the room in silence; Ched Nasad or Ust Natha, some things were the same all over.