Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [158]
Triumphantly the priestesses swam down to the portal. Clutching the pendants, all ten of them hurtled through the invisible magic door. They rolled, drenched and gasping for air, onto a rocky-floored tunnel.
Right into the path of two-score onrushing guards.
The drow males pulled up short, startled by the unexpected arrival of the Prometiade forces. Iljrene leaped to her feet and brandished a sword, taking advantage of the merchants' surprise to buy a moment's time for her equally nonplused priestesses.
Four-to-one, she acknowledged grimly as she faced off against the closest male. Granted, the narrow tunnel gave the females some advantage-no more than four could fight at once-but the mercenaries could replace their slain as quickly as they fell. As she slashed and darted and danced, the tiny battlemaster determined to lower the odds as much as she could before another priestess was forced to step into her place.
Gold coins, a mountain of them, shifted beneath Liriel's feet. Magic weapons, priceless statues and vases, and exquisite musical instruments were heaped around the base of the golden, gem-studded hill. The drow released a long, silent sigh of relief; she'd gotten into the dragon's hoard room.
Liriel stooped and picked up the glittering black sapphire at her feet, the gem ZzTzora had planted there. Properly enspelled, the sapphire had been the final ingredient to opening the portal into Nisstyre's stronghold. But Liriel did not pause to savor this triumph. Cautiously she made her way down the treasure heap, sliding on the shifting coins with each step. Usually the slightest disturbance of a dragon's hoard brought the fey creature roaring toward battle. The sounds coming from Pharx's lair suggested Zz'Pzora was tending to her assigned task with unusual vigor and relish. The male dragon was well and truly distracted.
Not wanting to chance too much on the capricious ZzTzora, Liriel made her way quickly through the tunnels that led into the merchants' quarters. Far above, muted by the stone, she heard the faint sounds of battle, but the corridors were deserted. Then, at the base of one of the closed stone doors, she saw a sliver of light. She crept close, and eased the door open.
In a small chamber sat the copper-haired wizard, wrapped in a shawl and studying the Windwalker by the light of a single candle.
"Having any hick?" Liriel said mockingly. Nisstyre started at the sound of her voice and spun to face her. He was thinner than when she'd last seen him, and his black eyes burned in his haggard face. The ruby embedded in his forehead flared with angry red light. "How does it work?" he demanded, brandishing the amulet. "Its secrets yield to no drow magic!"
"I'll gladly give you a demonstration," the girl challenged. "Give me the amulet, then test me in battle!"
"I have no wish to harm you."
"Afraid to try?" Liriel taunted.
The wizard scoffed and held up his left hand. The gold and onyx ring that had once belonged to Kharza-kzad Xorlarrin glinted in the candlelight. "I bested your tutor. Can the student do better?"
Liriel shrugged. "Look at it this way: you want information, and the only way you'll get it from me is to kill me and converse with my spirit."
The gem in Nisstyre's forehead flared again, brighter this time. He winced, and his face contorted with pain and frustration. He hurled the amulet at Liriel, accidentally knocking over the candle and plunging the room into utter darkness.
"Very well, I'll fight her!" he shouted. "Watch if you must, but by all the gods, hold your wretched tongue!"
Liriel peered at the wizard. He was not talking to her, but to some unseen person. Someone who could hear what she said, perhaps see what she did. Someone who wanted her dead. Her gaze flickered over to Nisstyre's ruby eye, and a plan began to formulate in her