Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [17]
"Don't put so much blood into the water at one time," Liriel cautioned her sternly. She could tolerate Bythnara's foul temper, but only up to a point. "You don't want to start a frenzy."
That thought sobered the jealous young wizard, and for a long time the two females hunted in silence. Perched on the very tip of the boat, Liriel worked quickly, leaning out over the water and spearing one fish after another. She herself did not care for the pyrimo, beyond the challenge of the hunt, but the fish had another value to her that her companions could not begin to fathom. The prospect of another hazardous adventure beckoned Liriel this day, and she was too pleased with life to allow Bythnara's snit to spoil her mood.
The boat shifted slightly, and from the corner of her eye Liriel saw that Bythnara had seated herself and put aside her spear. The female grimaced and rubbed at her neck. She reached into her travel bag and removed a small vial. She poured some pungent liniment into her hand and began to massage the sides of her neck.
A warning light flashed in LirieFs mind. She had hunted pyrimo many times, and well knew the strain caused by the watchful tension and lightning-fast spear thrusts. Bythnara was massaging the wrong muscles.
For a moment Liriel felt a familiar, hollow feeling in her chest, the dull empty ache that came anew with each betrayal. She quickly thrust it aside and coolly, surreptitiously studied her childhood friend. As Liriel suspected, Bythnara's massaging fingers moved in a complex, familiar pattern. The wizard was casting a spell. It was not a common spell, but Liriel had learned it just last week from her new and powerful tutor. Bythnara, of course, did not know this. Liriel's teacher had forbidden her to share with anyone the spells he taught her, and for once she blessed the greedy, paranoid nature of Menzoberranzan's wizards.
Bythnara rose, stretching, unaware her prey had sensed the hunt-within-a-hunt. The wizard's next move, Liriel knew, would be to fling out a hand and send a fireball sizzling toward the prow of the boat.
Keeping her feet spread in a hunting stance, Liriel once again summoned the natural magic of levitation. Then, in one quick, fluid movement, she rose high into the air, whirled, and threw her spear like a javelin. The barbed tip tore into Bythnara's chest, and the wizard's languid yawn turned into a rounded O of shock and pain. Arms wind-milling, she toppled backward into the water.
Instantly the pyrimo were upon her. Liriel floated above the river's misty shroud, watching with an impassive expression as the water below her churned and roiled, turning red in the darkness as it was warmed by the blood of her treacherous friend.
When the wild rocking of the boat stilled and the waters had once again turned cool and dark, Liriel drifted back down. Syzwick still lay flat on the floor of the boat, where he had wisely thrown himself in an effort to keep the craft upright.
Liriel regarded the handsome male for a long moment as she considered what best to do with him. The scented liniment Bythnara had used had no doubt come from his father's store. It seemed likely that Syzwick had plotted with Bythnara, Perhaps the female wizard had told her consort something that might help Liriel understand the motive for this attack. If so, Liriel intended to get some answers. She kicked him, none too gently.
Syzwick scrambled onto the center seat, his eyes frantic as they met Liriel's implacable crimson gaze.
"I'll swear to anything you like," Syzwick said, the words fairly bursting from him. "I'll say Bythnara attacked you. That's believable enough, considering how much she hated you. She's always hated you-jealous, mostly-and has never bothered to hide the fact. Everyone knows it. Everyone will believe us," the male babbled on, "for she's spoken often enough of wanting to see you dead. Mind you, as far as I know she had no real plans to move against you. And I swear-I swear it by Lioth's eighth leg!-that I would never go