Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [78]
Gorlist's outraged scowl did not lessen. Apparently, this male did not know his place; Liriel was more than happy to remind him- She took hold of his wrist again. With the forefinger of her free hand, she traced the edge of the cut with one finger,
"If I had wanted to kill you, I would not have cut you there," Liriel said. Using his blood as ink, she slowly, teas-ingly traced another line on his arm, this one a fraction to the side. "I would have cut you here"
A knife appeared suddenly in her bloodstained hand, and she pressed hard against the line she had drawn. She met the male's angry glare with a cold smile and a challenging gaze.
Nisstyre intervened. "And we are grateful for your expertise," he said as he gently disengaged his fighter's wrist from Liriel's grasp. "You, Gorlist, will do as you are bid. The three of you, go with all haste to the surface. And after that?" he asked, turning the question to Liriel. "Where shall they go?"
She paused, not sure how to answer. Her only thought had been to lay a trail out of the Underdark, and she did not know of any surface destination to give them. Wait: yes, she did.
"Waterdeep," she said decisively.
The merchant captain's thin lips curved in a smile. "Well chosen. It is a long trip, but one they would soon make regardless. The Dragon's Hoard has a base near that city."
"In Skullport?" Liriel asked, thinking it more likely the drow merchants would thrive underground than in a human stronghold.
Nisstyre's smile broadened. "For a noble female of Menzoberranzan, you know much of the wider world. I would not be surprised if we should meet again soon, my dear Liriel."
"Not unless you plan to enroll in Arach-Tinilith," Liriel responded, using a tone of voice designed to quench the too-familiar spark in the wizard's black eyes. "I shall be there for a number of years."
"Such a waste," the merchant said fervently.
"Such blasphemy," Liriel returned lightly. "But since you are not of Menzoberranzan, perhaps Lloth will overlook your words. Now, perhaps you'd like to see the way to the dragazhar lair?"
Nisstyre followed the girl to the narrow tunnel that led to the deepbat cave. He noted the confident way she moved through the wild terrain, her utter lack of fear despite the fact that they were merely two against the dangers of the wild Underdark. The young female was clearly a seasoned adventurer with a lust for the unknown. Yes, he could lure this one up into the Night Above, Nisstyre assured himself complacently. A push, a nudge, and she would be his.
And, by extension, Vhaeraun's. In some matters, even the God of Thieves had to take second place.
Chapter 12
TROLLBRIDGE
Fyodor followed the steep tunnel path for many hours, with little sense of how much time actually passed. When he could no longer run, he walked, and he rested what little he dared. After a time-how long or short he could not say-the path leveled off and ended in a small cave.
The darkness here was less intense, and when Fyodor put out the last of his torches, he found he could see well enough. After a quick exploration he found the exit, a small opening just slightly higher than his head and not much larger than a badger hole. Fyodor used his sword to chip away at the rock and soil. When he thought the opening might suffice, he grabbed the edge and hauled himself up. Slowly, laboriously, he eased his shoulders through the opening. Finally he rolled out, exhausted but exultant. For a long moment he merely lay there, breathing hard and taking stock of his surroundings.
The ground beneath him was hard and rocky, and the walls of a ravine rose steeply on either side of him. By the smooth, round stones around him he knew this to be a dry riverbed. Something or someone must have diverted the river, for at this time of year the water should have been rushing along, swollen by the melting ice and snow. The air was crisp, but much warmer than when he had last seen daylight. Either he had been wandering in