Realms of the Underdark - J. Robert King [22]
Zak stood in an abrupt motion. "I have to go." He shot the wizard a nasty grin. "I have a dagger to fetch for my beloved matron mother."
Perhaps it was only the shadows, but a smile seemed to touch the Spider Mage's gray mask. "Farewell, Zaknafein. It would be too dangerous for us to ever speak again. So let me say that it has been an honor to meet you."
At a loss for words, Zak could only nod.
"Use the disk," Jalynfein finished. "It will take you to Narbondel."
Without further words, Zak stepped onto the pale circle, and once again the world blurred around him.
Chapter Seven
To Serve…
Jalynfein sat in the silence of his chamber, deep in the heart of Sorcere. He gazed into the crystal, at the glowing pillar, thinking of the peril of which he had not warned the weapons master.
To pretend to serve Lloth was the only hope of finding a chance to undermine her power. But there was a grave danger in it as well. In posing as a slave of the Spider Queen, an elf might one day wake to find he has actually become one. Time was their ally, but it was also their enemy. In time, all things-even a drow of good and true heart-could become corrupted.
"Each day we burn in the Fires of Narbondel, my friend," Jalynfein whispered to the crystal. "For each day brings a chance to do good, and a chance to become evil."
Jalynfein sighed. It was beyond his power now. He waved a hand, and the crystal went dark. The Spider Mage stood. It was time to go serve Lloth.
Chapter Eight
Relic
s Drizzt knew he shouldn't be here. Briza had charged him with the task of polishing every doorknob in the entire house. She hadn't said anything about opening any of them.
The door clicked shut behind him. It was too late.
"Well, since I've already earned a whipping, I might as well look around," the young drow reasoned.
For a moment, Drizzt enjoyed the silence of the small antechamber. At present, all of House Do'Urden was astir with the final preparations for the Festival of the Founding, as well as for the imminent arrival of Matron Baenre and her entourage. Even by Briza's standards, the task she had assigned him was a tedious one. House Do'Urden was not the largest house in Menzoberranzan, but neither was it the smallest. After polishing a hundred knobs, Drizzt had lost count. Then he had come to the very last knob, set into a small door at the end of a seldom-trod hallway.
Drizzt wasn't certain what had first piqued his curiosity about the door. All of the other doors in the house were large and grand, graced by intricate carvings of webs and spiders and ancient drow heroes. This portal was so small and drab that he almost hadn't noticed it. Perhaps that was what had caught his interest. He hadn't even really meant to turn the knob, but as he buffed it one last time with the cloth, the knob had spun, and the door had swung open.
Now Drizzt gazed around the small chamber. After a moment he let out a sigh of disappointment. The room was empty, save for a few broken chairs and some rotting tapestries. Drizzt turned to leave. If he could slip out unnoticed, maybe he wouldn't get a beating after all. He reached for the knob.
That was when he noticed it. The walls of the chamber were all speckled with purple mold-except for a small circle in the center of the wall to his left. Drizzt frowned. That didn't make sense. Mold would grow on any surface that wasn't often disturbed…
In a second, he moved from door to wall, gazing at the circle of smooth stone. There was only one possible reason mold hadn't grown over that patch of wall. Testing his hunch, he lifted his hand and pressed against the circle.
I hadn't expected this, Drizzt thought as the floor dropped out beneath him. He tried to levitate but was too slow. With a soft, "Oof!" he landed on a heap of something cold, hard, and clinking.