Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [57]
Before Ysolde could continue, the sound of another musical instrument floated toward them from beyond the distant hills. It was a wind instrument, with a deep, haunting call unlike any Liriel had ever heard. The drow froze, listening.
"What is that?" Liriel demanded.
"The hunting horn of Eilistraee," the tall priestess replied. Her voice was hushed and her face rapt, attentive. All of the drow listened intently as the horn winded again, this time in a simple fragment of melody.
The dark elves exploded into action. They peeled off their gossamer robes and pulled on breeches and boots, tunics and deep-cowled cloaks. They strapped on weapons: swords as finely crafted and sharply honed as any Liriel had seen in Menzoberranzan, longbows many times the size of the tiny crossbows the Underdark drow used for their poison darts, and silver-tipped arrows as long as Liriel's arm. One of the drow doused the fire; another bundled up the discarded dancing gowns. An eager gleam shone in every eye as the drow prepared for battle.
Their excitement was contagious, and Liriel watched with a mixture of curiosity and envy. These strange drow were preparing for some grand adventure, here beneath the open sky.
"What is happening? Where are you going?"
"The hunting horn. It is the signal that someone nearby needs our aid," responded Ysolde. She paused in the act of strapping on a quiver of arrows and looked at the young drow. There will be battle. If you wish to join us, we would welcome another blade."
Daughter of the Drew
For a moment Liriel was tempted. She was intrigued by these draw, so different from any she knew, and she felt the call of the hunt. Yet wouldn't hunting with these silver-haired females, on the bidding of this upstart Eilistraee, be an insult to Lloth? And if the Spider Queen should turn against her, Baenre or not, there would be no place for her in Menzoberranzan,
Ysolde read the girl's answer in her hesitation and sent her an understanding smile. "Perhaps that is best. You do not yet understand what we do or what enemy we prepare to fight. But remember, a rightful place awaits you in the Lands Above. You may join us any time you wish, to live beneath the sun and dance in the moonlight."
And then the drow were gone, melting into the forest with as much stealth as any Underdark patrol.
Liriel stood alone for a long moment, breathing in long draughts of the crisp night air and letting the wind play against her heated skin. Perhaps she would come here again, but only to learn and observe. Fascinating though these strange priestesses might be, Liriel was not willing to relinquish her own goddess to join them, nor could she settle down in this remote forest-cavern. If ever she should come to the surface for any length of time, it would be to travel far on some grand adventure.
That thought came to mind unbidden, and it was as appealing as it was impossible. Liriel quickly thrust it aside. She gathered together her things and prepared for her return to Menzoberranzan.
The trip back to Spelltower Xorlarrin would be more complex than the one that brought her here. That spell, although extremely powerful, only worked one way. To return she could need to take a relay of gate spells. Magical travel was unreliable in the Underdark, for areas of strong magical radiation-like the grotto where Zz'Pzora made her lair-could distort spells and throw the traveler dangerously off track.
Liriel opened her spellbook to the first of the spells. This one, Kharza said, placed a gate somewhere in the series of open caverns near Dead Dragon Gorge, some six or seven days' travel from Menzoberranzan and very near a labyrinth of caves that lay near the surface. It was an