Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [70]
"It is an underground city, much like your Menzoberranzan, and it lies hidden far below the great coastal city of Waterdeep. Most of Waterdeep's inhabitants know little about the lands beneath their feet, and not many venture into its depths. Of those who do, few survive. It is a dangerous, lawless place." Qilue's voice was grim, and her lovely face saddened as she spoke.
"If you feel that way, why do you stay there?" Liriel asked.
"We are needed," the priestess said simply.
That was too simple for Liriel to absorb. She had been raised to examine everything for layers of meaning and motive, and it seemed to her there must be something more to the situation than Qilue was admitting. Was Skullport like the Underdark, in that the drow could not remain away for long without losing their powers?
"Can't you cast magic on the surface?" she blurted out.
Qilue looked surprised. "Yes, of course. The Dark Maiden hears and answers her Chosen wherever they might be."
Liriel nodded thoughtfully. What the priestess spoke of was clerical magic, of course, which was much different from the innate power she herself had wielded since childhood. Still, it was something. She wondered if Lloth could hear her, so far from the chapels of Menzoberranzan. Her hand crept up to the Spider Queen's symbol, and she silently spoke the words of the clerical spell that would enable her to read the thoughts of this regal drow.
Not a glimpse came to her, not a whisper. The spell did not work; the prayer went unanswered. In the Lands of Light, she was truly alone.
She looked up to see Qilue's kind eyes upon her. "Ysolde tells me you are an accomplished wizard, with many gate spells at your command. So tell me, what is your next destination?"
"This will be my last trip to the surface for many years," Liriel admitted sadly. "I am not supposed to leave Arach-Tinilith until my training is complete. So far I've been lucky, but I would be caught sooner or later. My people, to put it mildly, would not approve."
"I see. And their approval is so important to you?"
"My survival is important to me," she returned bluntly.
Qilue was silent for a long moment. "You have other choices."
To dance in the moonlight," Liriel said bitterly. That is a fine thing, but then what? What of the dawn? I would be hated and hunted by every human and faerie elf under the sun, without even the simplest magic to shield me."
She gathered up a corner of herpiwafwi in her hand and shook the glittering cloak in Qilue's face. "Look at this: it dims by the moment. So far from the powers of the Underdark, its magic is fading. In my homeland, I can walk silent and invisible. Here I would be vulnerable, visible to all eyes. My weapons, my armor, my spell components-all would be melted by the sun."
"You would not be helpless," Ysolde put in. "You have a sword."
Liriel groaned and clasped the aching muscles of her sword arm. "Don't remind me! So what you're saying is that I would have to depend upon the least of my abilities for survival. Thank you, but no."
"You would learn new ways," Ysolde said.
That's what I'm afraid of!" Liriel said passionately. "You don't understand at all. / cannot abandon my heritage. I can't forget the drow culture, or lose my innate magic, or give up all I have learned through three decades of study in dark-elven wizardry! Perhaps that might seem like nothing more than a collection of customs and powers and spells to you, but it's what I am."
Qilue laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Let her be, Ysolde. We all must follow the path that is given us," she said in gentle rebuke. To Liriel she said, "You have come here to learn. Since your time with us is short, why don't you ask whatever questions you might have?"
The older female's forthright, considerate manner took Liriel by surprise. Never one to refuse an opportunity, she asked about Rashemen and the customs of the land.
"Rashemen lies far to the east of here," Qilue began. "It is ruled by Witches, wise women who wield