Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [62]
Her mind worked furiously even as she spoke. She would leave the human at her house in Narbondellyn, under the guard of her other servants, and then return to the Academy, No one would be the wiser. Later, she could always claim she'd bought a human slave from a merchant band. Human slaves were rare in Menzoberranzan, but not unheard oЈ Her tale would ring true enough.
The man studied her for a long silent moment. He clearly did not grasp her intent, for his eyes held no fear and his dark brows met in a frown of puzzlement.
"This is a fearsome land," he said slowly, "and no place for one alone. If you wish to travel together I will offer you my protection for the length of our shared path."
"Your protection?" she echoed incredulously, too stunned even to laugh. That a human, and a male at that, should offer to shield her-a noble female drow, a dark-elven wizard and a novice priestess of Lloth-was utterly ludicrous. "You know nothing of the Underdark, do you?"
"It would seem not," he agreed.
"Look closely," she advised him, holding her arms out wide to invite his inspection. "Black skin, white hair, pointed ears, eyes that glow red in the darkness. Stop me if any of this sounds familiar."
"You are drow," he said, still not understanding. "Good. Very good," Liriel said approvingly. "You've heard of us, then. The drow rule this fearsome land'-your words, not mine-and we make the rules. If I hadn't come along just now, you'd be deepbat food. By my rules, your life is mine. It just so happens I have need of a new slave."
The man considered this, tugging thoughtfully at his ear. "But why? You say you have no need for protection."
"I want to learn more about the surface," Liriel said frankly.
"Knowledge is a good thing," he agreed, "and certainly no man could wish for a more beautiful mistress. But no man or woman of Rashemen lives as slave to another."
Liriel lifted a single white brow. "Perhaps you'll start a trend."
"Perhaps not," he said mildly, but Liriel saw the flash of anger in his blue eyes and she tensed in preparation.
The human lunged for his club. As his hand closed around the grip, Liriel snatched a knife from her sleeve and hurled it. The blade bit deep into the wood and quivered there, just inches from his hand.
Without missing a beat, Liriel conjured a small, transparent globe. Streams of light writhed inside, and the missile pulsed with barely contained power. She tossed it up and down a few times, and a meaningful smile played about her lips.
"A drow fireball," she said in a casual tone. "They explode on impact. And you may have noticed I hit what I aim at." The human eased his hands away from the club and raised them in a gesture of surrender. "You argue well," he conceded.
The wry humor in his voice surprised Liriel. The human showed more wit than she'd anticipated. It was almost a shame to enslave such a creature.
"It would be a waste to leave you here to die," she mused, speaking as much to herself as to the human. "And die you surely would, alone and virtually unarmed. It's a marvel to me you managed to survive nearly a full day!"
"Just one day?" he echoed in disbelief.
The drow looked puzzled for a moment, but then her face cleared. "You must have come in through the Drygully Tunnel. The surface entrance is perhaps a day's travel from this cavern, but I suppose you could have wandered around for any length of time."
"Just one day's travel," the man repeated thoughtfully.
"One," Liriel confirmed. She stepped closer and prodded him with her foot. "On your feet. We're leaving, now."
He did as she bid, and instinctively the drow backed away a step. At close range, the man seemed much larger. Liriel stood perhaps two inches over five feet and had the delicate form common to elves. He was at least a head taller and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and thick-muscled arms. The drow was impressed, but not unduly concerned.