Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [155]
The drow-shaped dragon responded with a carnivorous smile. "Now I make the gentleman's acquaintance." She tossed back the rest of her drink and rose from the table.
Liriel caught her arm. "Take this gem with you. If you manage to get into the dragon's stronghold, leave it there."
"Oh, I'll manage," Zz'Pzora said in an arch tone. "Where else could we have the space-and the security-to resume our true forms? Purple or not, I'm the best thing in town! Don't bother waiting up for me." The drow-dragon smoothed the folds of her borrowed gown and slinked across the room.
True enough, the "drow" called Pharx seemed delighted by Zz'Pzora's unsubtle advances. In moments, the pair slipped away through one of the doors that lined the back wall of the Grinning Gargoyle. Liriel lingered in the tavern for a while to watch the dark elves who had been with Pharx, taking note of their number and weapons. When she was satisfied she could learn no more, she returned to the Promenade to study battle spells.
Much later that evening, a smug and sated Zz'Pzora gave her report to a gathering of the Chosen. "There is a hidden tunnel leading from the Grinning Gargoyle to Pharx's lair. It's small-barely big enough for an elf to crawl through-but comfortable enough for a deep dragon in serpent form. Pharx has a lovely home. He gave me a tour of the caverns."
Zz'Pzora smiled and admired her manicure. "It's been a long time since he's enjoyed the company of another dragon."
"The details of your encounter, however entertaining, must wait for another time," said Iljrene in her little-girl voice. The battlemaster spread a sheet of parchment on the table and thrust a quill at the drow-dragon. "Draw."
Not even a dragon was immune to the power behind Iljrene's lilting commands; Zz'Pzora complied without argument. The complex she sketched out was impressive. To the east of Pharx's lair was a series of tunnels leading to three main chambers. The deepest and best protected was the hoard room, a vast cavern filled with the treasures Pharx had collected over the centuries, as well as the bones of those who'd hoped to claim some of the treasure as their own. Above the hoard were two smaller caverns that served the merchants as living quarters and warehouses. Two tunnels led out of the merchants' quarters, one up toward the docks and another, an escape route, winding down to some still deeper dungeon.
Iljrene studied the drawing for a moment. "We'll send two patrols to attack the merchant ships. That will draw their fighters up through this tunnel. When the way is clear, Liriel will open a portal into the hoard room, then find and engage the wizard."
"She should not go alone," protested Fyodor. "What if guards remain?"
"That is unlikely. Nisstyre's people have no reason to suspect we know the location of his stronghold," reasoned Iljrene. "They will see no further than the attack on the ship. They carry slaves, among other cargo, and they know that this alone is enough to arouse the ire of the Dark Maiden."
"And why should he post guards, with a dragon in residence?" added Elkantar, leaning close over his battlemas-ter's shoulder to study the drawing.
"Exactly," Iljrene agreed. "Which brings us to the dragon, Zz'Pzora, you will ensure that Pharx remains in his lair. Keep him engaged, in battle or otherwise, until the way is cleared and our forces arrive."
The drow-shaped dragon eyed the battlemaster's exquisite, silvery gown with open greed. "Lend me that dress, girlie, and it's a deal."
"Done. Liriel, are you ready to face Nisstyre?"
The young wizard smiled grimly. "I'd be happier if I had the amulet, but I'm as ready as I can be. Did you leave my gem in Pharx's hoard room, Zip?"
"Yes, and it nearly killed me to do it," grumbled the dragon's right-headed persona, emerging for a moment to mourn the treasure that had slipped through her purple fingers. "A black sapphire!"
"What would you have me do?" asked Fyodor. The young warrior had spent the