Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [32]
"Hello, Zz'Pzora," Liriel said, addressing both heads and holding out her hands to show she held no weapons. I've brought you the usual goodies."
"And a gown for me?" the left head inquired eagerly. *FU need something to wear at Suzonia's next dinner party!"
The right head rolled her eyes. "We get out so seldom," she said with dry sarcasm. "It's so important we make the right impression."
Liriel bit back a grin. The dragon was clearly confused, but she was often rather amusing. The two heads had different, distinct personalities that were almost always in conflict. The left head was vain and flighty, and liked to fantasize about visiting the Underdark cities and frolicking on the surface. The right head's persona was more typical of dragonkind. She loved solitude, treasure, and magical items. This head was the brighter of the two, and had a sharp wit and a sarcastic tongue. While all dragons were dangerous and unpredictable, Zz'Pzora had a little insanity thrown in to make things interesting. Even so, Liriel had come to consider the dragon a friend. A large, dangerous, and unpredictable friend, perhaps, but no more treacherous than any of the young drow's other associates.
"I'm going to get your things now," she said, pointing toward the water. The boat had bobbed to the surface and had drifted nearly to shore. Both of the dragon's heads nodded eager agreement.
It took but a few minutes for Liriel to tow in the boat and unpack her cargo. The dragon quickly devoured the seafood, the two heads arguing all the while over the choicest tidbits. The left head squealed with delight at the sight of Liriel's cast-off gown and begged her counterpart to join her in The Change. Deep dragons were natural shapeshifters and could change at will into either snake or drow form. Zz'Pzora's drow shape had but one head, but even this form could not grant the dragon her left-headed longing for society. The drow-dragon had features that were decidedly undrowlike: round, dark eyes; a button nose; and full pouting lips. Her skin retained the bright purple hue of the dragon's scales and cast the same faint purple light as usual. In any form Zz'Pzora was, to say the least, conspicuous.
Undaunted by such limitations, the drow-shaped dragon wriggled into the gown. Hands on hips, she paced along the shore in a broad parody of a seductress's slink.
"It's very becoming, Zip," Liriel murmured, struggling to keep the mirth from her voice. "Suzonia will be consumed with jealousy."
With a happy sigh, the drow-dragon flung herself down beside Liriel, ready for some gossip. At ZzTzora's urging, Liriel told stories about her life in Menzoberranzan: the round of parties, the social intrigue, even the incident with Bythnara Shobalar.
A queasy expression crossed the dragon's purple, elven face. *^So a wizard died to get me the pyrimo. I wish you'd told me that earlier!" she said in the low, gravelly voice of her right-headed persona. Before Liriel could respond to this, the drow-dragon's face twisted into a sly smile. "If you'd told me, I would have enjoyed it far more!" put in the left-headed side. "Especially if some of those fish had eaten-"
That was a bit much for Liriel. "I have to get back now," she said abruptly. "Where are my weapons?"
The drow-shaped Zz'Pzora pointed toward a small cave. Blue light spilled from the low opening, marking it as an especially powerful source of the radiant energy.
Liriel stooped and entered the small cavern, There she found the sack she'd left with the dragon two years earlier. Eagerly she opened it and drew out a small, spider-shaped metal object. The eight legs were perfectly balanced and evenly spaced, and each ended in a sharp tip. She took the weapon by one leg and hurled it at the wall of the cave. The legs bit deep into the stone.
"Perfect," she breathed. With her lethal aim, a thrown dagger could handle most creatures of flesh and bone; this new weapon