Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [7]
"Indeed no! I serve Lolth."
"That's fortunate." The demon-drow's voice dropped to a harsh whisper, and she leaned closer, leering. "No mortal can kill me-though many have tried." She reared back and shouted, "The void itself has no effect on me!"
T'lar was starting to suspect that this was something much more powerful than a yochlol. Some new form of demon that Lolth herself had spawned. "By what name should I address you, Mistress?"
The demon-drow was silent for several moments. Her spider jaws gnashed. At last she answered, "The Lady Penitent."
It sounded like a title a powerful being might use. "Are you a demon lord?"
The Lady Penitent snapped out a laugh. Her eyes looked wild. "More than that. Much more." She waved a misshapen hand at the mural on the wall. "I even have my own temple."
T'lar nodded, her chest tight with excitement. Had she just played midwife to some ancient and long-forgotten deity? She kept her face expressionless, despite the surge of emotion that left her near giddy. The Spider Queen must have been watching when Nafay died. And again when T'lar offered up her sacrifice. Lolth was known for her caprice. It would not be unheard of for the goddess to reward a mere assassin with power that would make a priestess weep. The services of a demigod's avatar, for example.
"Your song," T'lar said. "I felt its power."
"Lolth's dark chorus? Bae'qeshel?"
T'lar hadn't heard the word before, but to admit that would be to show weakness. And deities spawned of chaos and blood despised the weak. She nodded and spoke boldly. "I want to learn it. Teach me."
The Lady Penitent cocked her head. For a moment, her expression seemed melancholic. Almost mortal. "You remind me of someone. A young female, heir to the throne of House Melarn. She asked the same thing, once."
"What happened to her?" T'lar asked.
The Lady Penitent bared jagged teeth. "She died."
T'lar refused to be cowed. "She was unworthy, then."
"Yes," the Lady Penitent said in a harsh whisper. "She was… weak." Her lips twisted into a grimace.
T'lar stood firm before the Lady Penitent. "In me, you will find strength. And determination. I journeyed all the way from Guallidurth to do my valsharess's bidding."
"Guallidurth? The city with as many sects as an egg sac has hatchlings?"
T'lar felt a sliver of apprehension. The deity was challenging her-testing her faith. Fortunately, T'lar's commitment was strong. The Temple of the Black Mother was one of the youngest in the city. It had splintered away from the Yorn'yathrins a mere six decades ago and had yet to rise to prominence, but rise to prominence it would. Especially under the tutelage of a demigod's avatar.
"The priestesses of the Black Mother are fervent in their devotions," she assured the Lady Penitent. "They will serve you well."
The avatar lifted an eyebrow. "Will they?" A dark chuckle rose from her throat like a bubble of blood. "Guallidurth," she whispered, her eyes hungry.
T'lar nodded her head in a bow. "What is your pleasure, Lady Penitent? Shall I return to Guallidurth and announce your birth?"
The Lady Penitent smiled, a feral gleam in her eye. "Yes. Do that."
CHAPTER 2
The Month of Flamerule
The Year of the Lost Keep (1379 DR)
Leliana leaned on the railing of the bridge that spanned the Sargauth, watching as the three fisher-folk below hauled on the line that would bring in their net. Over the rush of the underground river, she heard voices from the Cavern of Song: the faithful, singing Eilistraee's praises. Though most of the voices were female, a few held a lower timbre. Even after three and a half years, it still seemed odd to hear male voices echoing through the caverns of the Promenade.
A shaft of moonlight sprang into being a short distance away, slanting down to the river. It was as if a window had opened in the rock overhead, allowing light to shine in from the World Above-light that overpowered the shimmer of Faerzress that permeated the cavern walls. The moonbeam was magical, a manifestation of Eilistraee's song-a reminder that