Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [36]
Somehow, the drow known as Gorlist had found him! With him was another drow, a male who wore his thick white hair in a multitude of tiny braids that, to Stalker's terror-struck eyes, appeared to writhe like small, hungry snakes.
The stranger turned an ironic smile to his associate. "Friend of yours, I take it?"
Gorlist snorted. "Who befriends a duergar? This one is a weasel and a coward, even by the measures of a deep dwarf."
"That's harsh," the other drow commented. "Some duergar are capable of dying well. Not all, of course, but enough to make killing them worth one's time and trouble."
He rose from the table. With a theatrical flourish, he flipped his cloak back to reveal the magically animated emblem pinned to his coat. A tiny ivory skeleton appeared to beat upon a drum while its bony jaw worked silently and rhythmically.
Stalker swallowed hard. This drow was a deathsinger!
"I see that you are familiar with my art," the dark elf commented. "Perhaps you've heard my name, as well? Brindlor Zido-rion of Ched Nasad? No? Well, never mind. As you surmised, my current task is to witness and immortalize great deeds of vengeance. The question before us is this: What part will you play in this tale of dark glory?"
The drow's voice was as sonorous as the sea, and he smiled pleasantly at the terrified official. Somehow Stalker found Brind-lor's studiously pleasant mien more fearsome than Gorlist's lowering scowl.
He felt rough, damp wood beneath him and realized that both his knees and his bladder had given way.
"I'll do anything, say anything," he babbled.
"Liriel Baenre," Gorlist said curtly. "A drow female, cohort of the Eilistraee priestesses. She paid you to release a confiscated ship registered to Hrolf of Ruathym."
Stalker's first impulse was to deny this out of hand-standard procedure where any charge of corruption was concerned. He knew from painful experience, however, that this drow was not inclined to settle for partial answers and half truths. So he cudgeled his memory until he knocked loose the required information.
"It was a while back," he remembered. "Seems to me it was early spring Above. Musta been four, five moon cycles past."
"She paid you well?" Brindlor inquired.
Greed momentarily edged aside terror. "Well enough," he said cautiously.
"I don't suppose she mentioned that the payment came from a dragon's hoard." The deathsinger sent Stalker a smile that chilled him clear to the bone. "A deepdragon, to be precise. The hoard was taken from a nearby cavern, in fact."
Panic rose in Stalker, dragging a wave of bile in its wake. Dragons were notorious for knowing their treasure down to the last brass button and for hunting down anything stolen.
Brindlor sauntered over and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "The dragon is dead. You needn't fear another surprise visitor any time soon. All we want is the girl."
The girl, Stalker repeatedly silently and bitterly. That made the job sound right simple, as if he could turn over the drow female and another dozen like her before his breakfast porridge cooled!
Any drow was trouble, but this wench was also a wizard. She'd told Stalker exactly what would happen to him if he turned on her, and gave him reason to believe she possessed both the will and the magic to back up her threats.
"Hard to find a drow in these tunnels," he hedged.
"Not for a weasel like you," Gorlist said coldly. "The princess spent much of her share of gems and coins bribing fat, lazy officials. You're very familiar with 'those tunnels.' "
Stalker began to see the path ahead, and his knotted shoulders relaxed just a bit. Dragons hoarded magical items. So did drow, and for that matter so did wizards of any race. The female had made off with something these two wanted.
"She paid in gems," he said, which of course is what they'd be seeking. Gems held and transmitted magic better than almost anything a man, dwarf or elf could make.
Gorlist sat bolt upright. "Was a ruby part of the payment?" He held up one hand, thumb and forefinger apart at a distance approximately the