Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [153]
Liriel wondered briefly how Xzorsh would respond to this news-and the knowledge that his "friend" had a part in it. "Let's assume i want to go to Ascarle," the drow said. "How would you take me there?"
"You cannot go directly. There is a portal but no mortal may pass. My powers allow me to take you to my home plane, and from there to Ascarle."
Something in the nereid's words struck the drow as familiar. They were very like words spoken not long ago, by a voice from beyond the grave. Liriel's eyes darted to the tower that loomed over the cliffs of inthar, and her thoughts returned to the strange encounter with the banshee who guarded it.
After giving instructions to the nereid that she was to remain silent and out of sight once they reached Ascarleor suffer damage to her soul-shawl-Liriel agreed to take the voyage. First, however, she encloaked herself in her piwafwi. There was no telling what she might encounter in the undersea stronghold. It did not escape Liriel's notice that the sly nereid seemed a little too eager to take her there.
Liriel had traveled through magical portals many times, but none were quite like this. The moment the nereid took her hand, they were shot through a tunnel of effervescent energy. For a brief, exhilarating moment, Liriel felt as if she were inside a bottle of sparkling wine that had been shaken, then suddenly uncorked.
She emerged, wet and tingling from head to toe, in a marble pool. Colorful fish swam among the water flowers, and a delicate fountain played softly in one corner. The drow looked deep into the water. There, barely visible, was the face of the nereid. She gave a sharp tug on the soulshawl's fringe by way of reminder, and the nymph disappeared from sight at once.
The drow adjusted her piwafwi and climbed over the low marble wall and surveyed the room beyond-a vast, gleaming chamber with a vaulted ceiling. The walls and floor were of inlaid marble, and several pools and fountains sang in a melodic murmur. Dominating the room was a raised platform upon which sat a massive throne of pale purple crystal. The thing brought to mind an image of the Baenre throne. The matron of the First House of Menzoberranzan sat on an intricately carved wonder of black stone, within which writhed the spirits of Baenre victims. Liriel hoped that whatever creature ruled this place was less venal than her dear aunt Triel, the current Matron Mother.
Liriel cast a quick spell to dry herself, for invisibility would be of limited value if she left behind a trail of wet prints. As silent as a shadow, she wandered through the rooms of the vast palace. The entire building was constructed of marble and crystal, decorated with ancient, priceless statues and urns filled with exotic plants. Beyond the palace lay an entire city, the buildings connected by airfilled walkways and tended by vacant-eyed slaves.
With every step, Liriel grew more certain that in this undersea city lived Ruathym's true enemy. Whoever ruled here possessed too much wealth and power for it to be otherwise. No such beings could content themselves in Luskan's shadow. On swift and silent feet she walked through the magic-filled greenhouse where the kelpie sprouts were grown, through storehouses filled with supplies, through armories well stocked with weapons. At last she made her way toward the humbler buildings, assuming these would house the city's soldiers, as well as the slaves of which the nereid spoke.
Liriel was well acquainted with slavery. It was a fact of life in Menzoberranzan. Slaves were the source of most of the drow's battle fodder and supplied nearly all the city's menial labor. In her first meeting with Fyodor she'd learned Rashemi did not enslave each other. He clearly abhorred the very mention of slavery, but she herself had never given much thought to the