Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [71]
At last the elaborate dance of feint and double-feint came to a close. Xzorsh buried his knife to the hilt in the base of the merrow's skull. Bloody bubbles gushed from the creature's mouth, and the massive arms floated limply out to its sides. The sea elf braced both feet against the dead merrow's back and pulled his knife free.
Liriel retrieved the now-dormant throwing spider and swam to the sea elf's side. "Your magic crab," she told him, smiling delightedly at the sound of her voice bubbling through the water. By way of explanation, she held up her hand, wiggling the fmgers to show off her new ring.
Xzorsh might not know much of magic, but he realized the power of the ring. For a moment the elves merely faced each other, smiling as they shared the exhilaration of a battle won. Then the ranger tied the precious magic spider to his belt and held out a hand to Liriel.
"Come. The others will be worried about you," he said. Without hesitation she took his hand-0r, more accurately, his wrist, for the ranger's webbed fingers forbade a traditional handclasp. As they swam together toward the starlight, Liriel marveled at the strange turns her journey had taken. Not long ago, she had looked to the tunnels beyond Menzoberranzan for adventure. How narrow that ambition seemed now that she could see the wonders of the night sky, walk upon the surface lands, and swim the sea as effortlessly as a fish! Strange, too, were the friends she had picked up along the way: She'd never given much thought to faerie elves, beyond the realization that if she ever met one she'd probably have to kill it. The possibility that she might actually consider befriending such a being had never entered her imagination. Nor did she ever imagine that she would have a friend such as Fyodor-a human, and a male at that-or that the ebullient Hrolf would come to regard her with the sort of fatherly pride and affection she had always sought, tentatively and with utter futility; from her drow sire. How odd it all was, Liriel mused.
Stranger still was the rune that was beginning to take shape in the drow's mind, little by little with each day that passed. Every tiny line and curve was clear to her, although the whole was far from complete. The shaping of it was not of her making. In fact, Liriel felt a bit like a spellbook, receiving the ink from the pen of some cosmic scribe. Nothing in her wizardly training had prepared her for this or for the feeling that this magic was not so much a force to be exploited, but an outcome Woven from the threads of her life. It was all foreign to the drow, and she did not understand the half of it. But exciting, it was! she concluded happily.
A contented sigh escaped her, sending a ripple of bubbles racing toward the starlit sky:
Chapter 10
The Purple Rocks
The illithid's purple hands gripped the arms ofher throne as she sent a brief burst of mental power toward the merrow warrior-just a puff, just enough to send the sea ogre reeling back a step. Merrow were proud creatures, and this one had not wanted to admit that its band had met failure. Foolish creature, to think it could hide anything from the Regent of Ascarle! Then came a second puff of energy, and a third. Bit by tantalizing bit, the illithid forced the merrow back toward the large oval pool at the rear ofher audience chamber. The merrow knew full well the fate that awaited it there; its horror only made the exercise more delightful.
Vestress prodded the merrow until it was a but few feet from the edge of the pool, and she froze it there. Its mindsuch as it was-she did not touch. Another game awaited, and for that the merrow would need possession of its limited wits.
The illithid sent a silent summons into the deep water. After a few minutes the surface of the pool rippled, and a pair of long, thin tentacles snaked out onto the tiled floor. Like thin