Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [33]
Before she left the grotto, she gathered fragments of scales the dragon had broken or shed. The scales of a deep dragon were a rare and valuable spell component, and once dissolved in acid they could be used to make the prized ever-dark ink used by drow wizards. Since Liriel's allowance did not begin to cover her expenses, she had developed a lucrative trade of her own, These scale fragments would bring her enough gold to fund more adventures, buy more books, and learn more spells.
The elf quickly said her farewells to Zz'Pzora, and the two friends made their way to the far side of the grotto. There, in a small recessed alcove, hung a leather sling. Liriel seated herself and took a deep breath. Above her soared a long, straight shaft. The opening was too far away for her to see, but she knew from experience it would take her to a point very near the entrance to the water run. She and Zz'Pzora had rigged up a series of ropes and pulleys in this shaft. The dragon would pull Liriel up now, and return the boat to its starting point at her leisure.
Still in drow form, Zz'Pzora grabbed the ropes. The dragon's first tug sent Liriel jerking sharply upward. As the drow rose in a series of quick bursts followed by long teasing pauses, she fervently wished she hadn't exhausted her levitation spells for the day. There was no telling when the dragon's sly, chaotic persona might overwhelm the more sensible head, and it was a long way down. At the bottom of the shaft lay the crumpled remnants of old bones, a silent testament to the fate of other creatures who had fallen-or been thrown-into the shaft.
But once again, Liriel made the ascent without incident or treachery. She dropped the three pebbles that signaled the dragon of her safe arrival, then took her new spellbook from her pack and unwrapped the skins that protected it from wear and water. In the book was a spell that would enable her to establish a portal to a familiar spot of her choice. She chose Spelltower Xorlarrin.
With a mischievous smile, Liriel imagined Kharza-kzad's reaction to her latest prank. Her hands flashed through the gestures of the spell and she summoned the gate easily. Yet she lingered at the lip of the shaft, and her eyes scanned the
Elaine Cunninghara beloved landscape of the wild Underdark. She suspected it might be a very long time before she would see it again.
If there was ever a time when Fyodor needed the strength of his berserker rage, it was now. Yet the familiar heat and fury did not come to the young Rashemi. He had already fought too much for one day. So he drew his sword and slowly, carefully began to back away from the enormous scorpion-spider.
But the creature seemed fascinated by the light of the torch. It made no move to attack, but as soon as Fyodor eased out of range, it skittered forward until it was back in the circle of light. The man tried this escape several times, not knowing what else to do and hoping it might tire of the game.
As it happened, the monster did just that. The result was not at all what Fyodor had hoped it might be.
One of the creature's antennae furled back, then whipped up toward Fyodor's face. Reflexively, he raised the torch to ward off the attack; antenna met flame with a searing hiss. The giant arachnid reeled back, but not before its second antenna snapped forward, low and fast. This one hit Fyodor's ankle, and the end wrapped around and around as though it were a striking whip. So quickly did the second strike come that Fyodor was yanked off his feet when the creature retreated from the torch's flame. The back of Fyodor's head hit hard on the rocky floor, and a hundred tiny, brilliant lights burst behind his eyelids.
The painful light flashed and faded in an instant, and Fyodor once again found himself in total darkness. The fall had knocked his torch from