Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [14]
One of these brushed against a mound of salt, its sticky filaments pulling a little of the salt away. A heartbeat later, the entire pile collapsed as something crouched under it suddenly rose. Enormous bat wings flicked open, and a shaggy head shook off the dust that obscured the face. Massive horns protruded straight out from the creature's head in the place where ears would normally be. His muzzle, when it opened in a lazy yawn, revealed row upon row of jagged teeth.
A balor.
The demon cleared his wide, flat nose in a violent exhalation that sent a gout of flame out of each nostril, and spat a gob of sticky black tar onto the salt-encrusted ground. He folded his wings over his shoulders and lazily scratched his blood-red chest as he stared at the Spider Queen.
The wind died. A palpable tension filled the stillness.
"Lolth," the demon said. "At last." Each word released a puff of oily black smoke.
The demon had a sword strapped to his back; his flame-shaped blade glowed white-hot. Smoke curled lazily from the place where the weapon touched a strip of black hair that ran down the demon's back, hair that curled around his buttocks to his groin. Within this dark tangle was something bulbous and red.
"After so many centuries, have you at last come to play?" the balor hissed.
Halisstra felt fingers lock in her hair.
"No," Lolth said, her voice a lazy purr. "But this one has." She shoved Halisstra forward.
Halisstra gasped as she realized what was happening. Lolth didn't have a new mission in mind for her. She was discarding Halisstra like a toy she'd grown bored of playing with. "Mistress, no!" Halisstra gasped. "I can still serve you. Pl-"
Lolth's harsh laughter cut her off. "The Lady Penitent," she mocked. "Pleading? You should know better than that by now."
"Mistress," Halisstra whimpered, "let me prove myself. I'll do anything."
"Of course you will," Lolth said, her voice as smooth as freshly spun silk. "We both already know that, don't we?"
The demon moved closer, his clawed feet crunching against the salt-encrusted ground. He pointed a finger at Halisstra, then dropped his hand. Compelled, she fell to her knees. With the demon so close, she realized that he was not much taller than she was; had they stood side by side, their eyes would almost be level. Yet the raw power he exuded was nearly as great as Lolth's own.
Involuntary tears squeezed from Halisstra's eyes and trickled down her face, carrying the taste of salt to her lips.
Lolth laughed at Halisstra's discomfort. A snap of her fingers brought a strand of web tumbling from the sky. She seized it with one hand, then turned back to the demon.
"I'll call for your services soon, Wendonai," the goddess told him. "Until then, I'm sure you can find a way to amuse yourself." She nodded at Halisstra. Then she scurried up the strand of web and was gone.
The demon loomed over Halisstra. This close, she could smell the stench of scorched hair and the oily tang of his breath. He lowered his nose until it almost touched the top of her head, and inhaled deeply.
He jerked back. "You're not-" He halted, as if suddenly reconsidering what he'd been about to say. He forced her prone, then craned his head back. "Lolth!"
No response came from the empty sky.
"Lolth!"
Unable to contain her curiosity, Halisstra peered up at the demon. He was upset about something. Her scent? Had it revealed the fact that she had once been a priestess of Eilistraee? That she served Lolth under duress? Whatever Halisstra lacked, it made the demon furious. As his agitation grew, the wind rose.
The blowing grit crusted her nostrils when she breathed. It filled the air with glittering salt dust, obscuring the landscape once more. Small drifts formed against the demon's feet as he raged at the sky, still shouting Lolth's name. Halisstra rose to her