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Hollow Conquest	By : DrowDagger Category: A through F > Forgotten Realms Views: 4408 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Forgotten Realms series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
********
Chapter 5 “ Invasion
********
Miya Everharth lounged on her throne, surrounded by her shadow guardians.
He entered the audience chamber with his hands resting on the hilts of his dirks and the hood of his tattered cloak raised. His swagger attested to his station. He belonged to no house or matron mother. He was a sellsword, rumored to possess unparalleled skill and a ruthless reputation for never missing the target. He procured oddities, hunting all manner of quarry.
The hunter bowed, exaggerating the courtesy.
Chardia tightened her grip on the handle of her snake-headed whip.
He glanced dismissively at the one-eyed female.
“I require a beast. It is to be a gift, the princess sneered.
“Do you have a preference? he said with a lisp.
“It must be strong and bloodthirsty.
“It will not be cheap.
“You doubt I can pay your price?
He shrugged brazenly, glancing around at the chamberâ€™s sparse furnishings. “You are in the dungeon.
Miya tossed a bag of gems at him.
He caught it, extending his hand and withdrawing it beneath his cloak with godly speed.
Miya pointed to the female with the scarred face. “Deliver it to her.
The hunter strutted from the throne. “With pleasure.
********
Keelin Kenarrahel penetrated the darkness with her keen eyes, viewing the palace in the infrared spectrum. She flashed an urgent warning in the secret hand language to the elf. Halt! A guard is approaching, she signed. He was a mass of red and orange to her eyes.
Caelathim, disguised as a drow after drinking a polymorph potion, crouched behind the fence of stalactites and stalagmites. He pulled the folds of his piwafwi snugly around him.
The bowmen on the battlements exchanged recognition signals with the guard below, granting him permission to proceed. He strode past the huddled elves, connecting with a second drow at the end of his patrol route. The males gossiped quietly.
Caelathim soundlessly unsheathed a dirk. She stayed his hand.
The electrified prongs of a trident were effectively thrust against their arses, compelling the males to flee from the fury of a warrior who sat astride a large lizard. She spurred her mount to trample one of the males beneath its three-toed feet, dragging the corpse off. Another rider came, bearing a reluctant replacement. He retraced the unfortunate maleâ€™s footsteps, giving the elves the chance to penetrate the perimeter.
Keelin chanted in a strangled voice. The chilling sensation of her spell permeated his clothing, sinking down into the marrow of his bones. The elf flexed his hands, feeling disconnected from his limbs. He shivered and exhaled a whitish cloud of breath. His outline slowly blended into the grayness of the surrounding stone. She cast a second spell, creating a jagged gap in the fence. She passed through it with the flexibility of a viper. He followed her, scraping his shoulder guard against the stone. He froze like an animal caught in the sight of an archer. He gritted his teeth as her scornful gaze bore into him.
She opened the pouch hanging around her neck, scooping out a handful of the finely ground powder. She flicked her hand, leaving a generous trail in their wake. He could not fully appreciate her precautions. His green eyes were dependent on the mystical bracer. He could not see the heat residue left by their feet. He could not see the powder erasing the evidence of their passage.
He trotted after her for a hundred paces and skidded to a halt, heeding her command to assume a defensive posture over her. She knelt, waving her hand over the ground. She closed her lavender eyes to concentrate, channeling her innate magical energies into the silver ring she wore. She immediately sensed the surge of power as the dormant rune responded to her call. Its pulsating answer stabbed through her palm. The ground shook beneath their feet.
Caelathim flopped onto his buttocks, and with a gut-wrenching sensation, he fell into a pit. He landed in a shallow pool of fetid water. He coughed, spitting the debris out of his mouth. He crawled onto his knees. He gaped at the luminous runes on the tunnelâ€™s walls.
Keelin jumped down, issuing a heavy-handed reprimand to the back of his head. “Move quickly! She trudged through the water with an assertive gait, leaving him alone in the gloom as the runes faded. He hastily scrambled to his feet. He ignored the random bumps against his boots, refusing to imagine the source of the collisions.
Keelin paused at an intersection. She raised her hand and scanned the four directions with the ring.
The elf inhaled a haggard breath at seeing a length of scaled skin submerge.
“We must be directly beneath the palace, she said.
“I do not recognize these runes.
She smiled callously. “It is the magic of the gray dwarves.
“How did you come by their secrets?
“The Underdark holds many dark secrets and still darker allies.
“You are scheming to elevate your house.
“You are too clever for a male, the drow said mockingly.
“Miya is aligned with Matron Ulviirda. Miya has to fall before you can lay siege to the Second House.
Keelin tolerantly pressed a finger to her compressed lips.
“You wield magic that is not given by Lolth. His hand hovered over the hilt of the dirk. “She will not tolerate such sacrilege. She will not allow you to keep the spoils of your treachery.
“Do not mistake me for a priestess!
He flinched at her vehemence, wiping spittle from his face.
“I serve no mistress. I worship the sword. The battlefield is my shrine. I pile the corpses high upon the altar of mayhem. She clasped a hand to his throat with an iron-fisted grip, bruising his pallid skin. “Do not come between me and my prey. She squeezed his windpipe sharply, emphasizing the penalty for disobedience. “I will rip the heart from her heaving chest. I will fulfill my oath to the dead. She released him, shoving the elf against the wall. “I will not leave the Underdark without it.
He bent over, gasping for breath.
“North, she declared.
He shook his head to clear out the suspicions. He stumbled after her through the deepening sludge.
********
She knelt before the high priestess. Long, tangled strands of blond hair hid her face.
Imara reclined in her chair, absently stroking her chin as she plotted. She issued her command brazenly.
The slave flinched.
“Be swift, Imara declared, “and return with a favorable answer.
The human female darted out of temple, pounding her bare feet on the stone steps.
********
Dâ€™Jaral pranced in at the appointed hour, wearing thigh-high, leather boots and a brocade cloak draped over one shoulder. He approached the throne without making a sound, seeming to float over the haphazardly discarded debris.
He bowed to the seated female, sweeping his hand in a limp-wristed gesture to his waist, flipping the ruffles at his cuff. His breeches were cut from the same velveteen fabric as his waistcoat. His white linen shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing a large sapphire pendent resting against his hairless chest. His bald head glistened in the flickering light of the wall-mounted sconces. He eliminated all expression from his features before he regarded her with his shrewd eyes.
Princess Mira cracked open a walnut and tossed the shell at his feet.
Dâ€™Jaral smiled amicably.
“Report.
“Princess Miya is plotting your demise.
“I paid you a princely sum. Do not hold out your hand again and expect a reward for information I already had.
He bowed his head deferentially. “The manner in which she intends to assassin you was recently discovered by my agents.
Mira leveled her golden eyes upon the male, hinting he should expedite the debriefing.
“She has bought a beast, he answered. “It is a serpent, probably imported.
“Where is she keeping it?
He dropped his eyes to the stone floor. “In the dungeon, in one of the lowest chambers of her domain.
Mira growled. “How did she come by such a beast?
“Many caravans travel through the Upperdark. Merchants peddle their wares, trading with all manner of creatures, Dâ€™Jaral lied. “The matrons are bored with the stagnation of peace. Without the expenditures of war, their wealth is wasted on collecting such oddities.
“The commerce is affront to Lolth! Possession of artifacts from the surface is prohibited.
Dâ€™Jaral knew the law and routinely disobeyed it. He knew Lolthâ€™s purpose for it, to keep the drow isolated and eternally dependant on her for power. He chose to worship Vhaeraun. The drow god recruited malcontent males and outcasts. The Masked Lord tasked his priests to reclaim the surface world from which he was forced to flee.
“Search every noble house and persecute the violators, he retorted, “after you are crowned queen.
Mira slouched lower in the chair, marring her face with a pout. “Be rid of it.
“The fee “ Dâ€™Jaral started to mention.
Her eyes bulged at his insolence.
“One hundred bags of rubies, he concluded. “Payable when the task is done, of course.
Prudence stilled the vicious tongue of the princess. Without her elven manservant, she could not afford to alienate the arrogant male.
“Agreed, she said curtly, waving her hand.
Dâ€™Jaral bowed, sauntering out of the chamber with a superior smile on his thin-lipped face.
********
Keelin commanded the stone to magically create an opening in the tunnelâ€™s ceiling. She had him stoop and interlock his fingers, using his bridged palms as a stirrup to boost her up. She cautiously scanned the courtyard for heat signatures. It was deserted. The elves would emerge within the bailey, beyond the double set of fortified gates.
Caelathim tapped her insistently. She dropped down, preparing to admonish him with a sharp slap. The thought faded from her mind when she saw the elf hoisted aloft, caught in the coils of a mammoth serpent.
Keelin unsheathed her sireâ€™s sword, filling the tunnel with the ominous glow of Karliik Silinrul. The blade struck against its green, scale-armored length, causing no visible damage.
The serpent reared its head, baring long fangs and dipping drops of saliva. It spat a glob of venom at her.
She dodged it, charging the beast. She hacked away at its scales.
It hissed at the annoyance.
The walls shook. The wretched duergar spell was failing.
Caelathim waved his hand, bidding her to flee.
The serpent swayed rhythmically, blocking her path to the shrinking rift in the stone.
“To the Nine Hells with you, she shouted.
It opened its jaws wide, flicking a forked tongue at the drow, hungrily tasting her scent.
She spread her feet, taking a solid stance. The serpent lunged forward. She thrust her sword into the roof of its gapping mouth, penetrating its brain. It recoiled, wrenching the hilt out of her hands. It writhed in the throes of death, crushing the elf in its coils. It collided with the wall, bashing its tongue against the sword.
“Die! the drow rasped.
The serpent collapsed into the sludge, dragging the male beneath the slimy surface.
“No!
His air bubbles disappeared abruptly.
She clawed at the carcass, desperately attempting to pry the coils apart.
His golden hair floated on the waves.
********
Tarin marched into the familial chapel, purposefully measuring his steps to the elevated throne.
Ulviirda Aleanvalett sat still, completely aware of his murderous thoughts.
“You took everything from me, he rasped.
“I gave you much. Wealth and rank.
“You took him from me.
“Golocharinyon was never yours, she said haughtily. “I allowed you to keep your pet for a time.
“You killed him!
The matron laughed contemptuously. “I gave him to Lolth “ using your own hand.
Tarin howled in rage. He rushed up the steps, brandishing his swords.
She sneered, raising her hand. A spark of lightning appeared in the middle of her palm, building intensity, darting around her spread fingers until she launched it at the charging male. It hit him with the agonizing force of a hook horrorâ€™s claws, superheating his armor, tearing through his nervous system. He staggered, losing his balance. He struggled against the pain, struggling to remain on his feet.
She stood, sending forth a second volley, glowering at the traitorous male.
Tarin collapsed to his knees, unable to lift his arms.
“I will forgive you, Ulviirda said icily, “if you cower at my feet and beg.
“I will spit on your corpse.
Vindictive emotion contorted her face, marring her timeless beauty.
Tarin laughed.
Matron Ulviirda launched a lancing spear of whitish light. It lifted him forcibly into the air, sending the male into a spiraling flight. He landed at the bottom of the steps, cracking his forehead open. His swords clanked against the stone floor, sliding out of his reach. He tried to breathe. The sudden intake of oxygen heralded a wave of pain.
Ulviirda descended the eight steps slowly, snarling. She knelt before the prostrated patron and grasped a handful of his hair. “I spared you by giving that defective cur to Lolth. It should have been you I offered to her, for the Spider Queen desires your death.
He choked, spitting out a glob of blood. “She will have to wait awhile longer, he said mockingly. “You are not finished with me. You still have need of my services. He crawled onto his hands and knees.
Ulviirda clutched his chin threateningly. “I will rip out your heart and give it to Lolth!
“Of that, he hissed, “I have not doubt “ but that time is not now.
“You overestimate your worth. I can replace you with any one of the males I possess.
“I think not, he said, leveling a piercing gaze upon her. “War is upon you. You are too cunning, too selfish to part with a prized male. He flattened his buttocks against his boots, totally drained of his strength. “I know your heart. I know you long to be the queen. He wiped his mouth, smearing blood on his hand. “I have served you well as patron. I have aided you to elevate your house. I have done your bidding without question or fail. I have committed many foul deeds for you.
“You had no choice but to obey.
“I had a choice “ once, when I chose to betray Matron Elviara. He closed his eyes, allowing the memories to return to his mind. “I slipped a sleeping powder into the food. I slew my sisters, slaying the fodder before I opened the gates for you. I gave you my motherâ€™s head and the wealth of her house. He sighed remorsefully. “I chose my fate when I entangled myself in your web.
Ulviirda caressed his cheek, staining her hand with his blood. Lust overcame her senses. She shoved her hands against his shoulders, pushing the male to the floor. She straddled him, hitching her robe up around her waist. She violated him, forcing her thoughts into his mind, terrorizing him with mental images of the pair in the act of copulating.
No!
His anguish, communicated to her telepathically, excited her more than physical sensations.
He clawed at her, desperate to clasp his hands around her throat.
She pitched her pelvis, rubbing her clitoris against him. He screamed in fear and disgust. She convulsed violently, collapsing on top of his heaving chest. He shoved her to the floor, seething.
“I hate you, he said tartly. “You could not tolerate a rival for my devotion. Your jealousy killed him as surely as my blade did.
Ulviirda was enraged by his insight. She leapt to her feet, reaching for her six-headed snake whip. She lashed the patron cruelly, sneering as the fangs pierced his armor and bit into his skin. He lost consciousness before his body went completely numb.
When her fury was spent, Matron Ulviirda stumbled out of the chapel, leaving Tarin sprawled out on the floor. She retired to her bedchamber. Beneath the canopy of her bed, she closed her eyes. She entered a deep trance. Her mind drifted across the city, searching for the presence of a peculiar male. She had to find a suitable replacement before she reaped Lolthâ€™s disfavor.
********
His hand breached the surface.
She clasped his wrist, pulling him from the serpentâ€™s death embrace, crashing him to her heaving chest.
Caelathim coughed, gasping for breath.
“Witless male, Keelin cursed. She released him with a forceful shove, rushing to the closing exit. She climbed out, offering no assistance to the light elf. He barely flopped onto the stone, rolling aside before it vanished. She crouched behind a vulgarly shaped statue, searching for threatening heat signatures.
He crawled over to the drow. “I shall have to properly express my gratitude to you. He embraced her from behind, pressing his hands against the metal vipers, stroking their tongues.
“Focus on the kill, she chided, smashing her palm into his nose to refute their mutual lust.
She scanned the balconies, preparing to dash across the courtyard.
“Wait, he said, sensing her tension.
She wrenched free of his grasp, miffed at his sudden display of cowardice.
Caelathim seized hold of her pouch, snapping the chain. He poured the fine powder into his cupped palm and pitched it into the gloom. The cloud drifted harmlessly across the courtyard, revealing a grid of crisscrossing lines. He tossed a coin, breaking a line. Darts flew from small recesses in the walls, striking it repeatedly, delivering the petrifying poison. “I do not want to be added to her collection.
She kissed him, biting his tongue when he responded in kind to her invasion.
The elves cautiously navigated the grid, defeating the first trap. She pointed to a second-level balcony. He nodded, mounting a gargoyle statue. He stood on its head, leaning against the wall. His nimble fingers searched for protruding ridges. He scaled the wall slowly, straining his muscles, scratching his cheek with dislodged flakes of dull gray stone.
Keelin measured the progress of his ascent, and when the male was within reach of the railing, she called on her innate magic. The weightless sensation spread through her quickly, lifting her feet off the ground. She landed on the balcony effortlessly. He balanced precariously on the edge, lifting his leg. The stone crumbled beneath his weight. She caught hold of his shoulder guard, practically pulling him over the railing.
“Do not become a hindrance, she warned.
He bowed his head.
Keelin crept to the open door, probing the corridor with her keen eyes. She entered the palace silently. He followed several paces behind the drow, detaching the crossbow from his belt, arming it with a bolt.
The gloom gradually surrendered to the light of black candles.
She flanked the entrance, peering inside. The chamber was dominated by a statue of Lolth. The scent of sickeningly sweet incense filled her nostrils. The high priestesses chanted feverishly, engrossed in the ceremony to summon a beast from the Abyss.
Caelathim hid behind a pillar, trembling at the sound of their raised voices.
She signaled the male to move past the door.
Panic seized hold of his heart. He covered his mouth with a shaking hand. He shut his eyes, unable to blot out the memoriesâ€¦
********
Caelathim was taken to the dungeon, a desolate chamber in the bowels of the palace, after his failed attempt to escape the drow city kingdom. The fate of his prince was unknown to him. He was stripped naked and chained to the wall.
Matron Molafae cracked the leather whip, shredding his pallid skin.
He prayed for death, praying death would envelope him in a cocoon of nothingness.
“You dared to steal from me!
His skin bore the marks of her infinite wrath. His screams echoed in his ears. His blood stained her robe, her gnarled hands, and her scowling face. He lost consciousness frequently during the torture. Her accursed healing potions revived him, extending his anguish.
The matron paused to inspect the various instruments. The whip was traded for a mace. She mercilessly smashed it against his skull, jabbing it into his ribs, shattering his bones with the sound of a thunderclap. She rammed the adamantine handle between his legs, pulling it up harshly, forcing the male to balance on his toes. She withdrew it and bashed his kneecaps. He fell flat to the floor, wailing.
“You betrayed my trust. She grasped a handful of his hair, lifting his head. “You betrayed your matron.
Through his swollen eyelids, Caelathim stared at the drow matriarch. Her thinning white hair was a nest of knots, covering her misshapen skull. Her face was deeply wrinkled. Her eyes were hateful, sunken orbs of red. Her mouth was filled with yellow teeth. The hunching of her shoulders accentuated her diminutive frame.
“You will serve your queen well, thief.
She waved her hand, telepathically commanding the cloaked priestesses to seize the male. Once the shackles were removed from his bruised wrists and ankles, the females carried him aloft to a raised slab of stone. Ropes replaced their restraining hands, lashing him to the altar. The prick of a poisoned dagger sapped his strength to resist, robbing him of the hope he would endure.
The priestesses formed a loose ring around the altar after disrobing and smearing sacrificial blood over their bodies. The matron mounted the eight steps. She stood over him imperiously, spreading out her arms, intoning the ritual phrase.
Caelathim prayed to his goddess.
“Oh Dark Mother, receive my sacrifice of blood, freely offered to you. She slit her palm with a ceremonial dagger, shedding crimson droplets into a brazier. “Oh Revered Mother, receive his sacrifice, unwillingly offered to you. She pressed the blade against his index and middle fingers, the lethal fingers of an elven archer. He howled in agony. She sawed through flesh and bone, tossing the severed fingers into the brazier. Blue flames erupted, consuming the offering hungrily, indicating the Queen of Spiders had accepted it.
The priestesses raised their voices to a deafening pitch, drowning out his painful sobs.
“Feast upon him and leave his husk hollow.
The flames of the black candles were extinguished by an ominous gust of wind.
A grotesque spider descended on a translucent thread.
The priestesses extended their arms, concentrating on casting their sinister spell.
Caelathim thrashed against the ropes desperately, terrified.
“Drain him, she shouted, “and inject his immortality into my vessel.
Its spindly legs danced seductively, tapping its squirming prey. It snapped its large pincers.
“Restore my beauty. Restore my youth.
Its bulbous abdomen hovered over the light elf, spraying a sticky fluid over him.
His vision blurred.
The drow crone merged with the arachnid in a frightful union.
“I beseech you, Dark Mother, grant my prayer.
Its eight legs straddled the male. Sagging ebon orbs smothered him.
The priestesses swooned in their trance. Their sleek bodies glistened with sweat.
Caelathim sensed a foul presence gnawing at his mind, devouring his soul. He was overcome with despair. He shivered. His skin tingled, and then, a sensation of numbness spread throughout his body, spreading out to his limbs.
Matron Molafae convulsed in rapture.
His loins burned with hellfire.
The priestesses unsheathed their daggers and slit their throats, showering Matron Molafae with their blood. She bathed in it, reaping the blessing of her prey. The spider encased her in silk, preparing the vessel of Lolth with careâ€¦
********
The slave ran from the temple, rushing headlong for the seedy district of the city. It was home to exiled drow and lawless members of other races. Peddlers, rogues, and laborers crowded into the crumbling tenements, filling the taverns with their stinking bodies, fighting for rank or life. Mostly populated by males, illicit trading occurred in the back rooms and hidden cellars. Any item could be bought, any service could be arranged. Gambling dens and brothels flourished, right under the noses of Lolthâ€™s ruling females.
She ducked into an alley, gasping for breath. She shivered beneath her tattered dress. Her bare feet were sore, covered by a dozen scabs. She tugged futilely at the obedience collar around her pallid neck. She routinely wished it would strangle her, ending her servitude. She feared her cries to the secret god, Tempus, could not be heard. She knew a chieftainâ€™s daughter did not deserve to die in the dark, her death unheroic and unsung. She knew her mistress would punish her if she did not return shortly with the answer she sought.
She steadied her nerves, inhaling deeply through her nostrils. She dashed across the street, heading straight for the Shattered Skull. She entered the tavern, flicking her blue eyes nervously over the occupants. She hunched her shoulders and lurched up to the poorly chiseled stone bar, avoiding all contact with the gathered cretins.
She kowtowed to the bartender, whispering.
He snarled at her, twisting a filthy rag in a suggestive manner.
She repeated the password.
He cocked his head to the side, directing her gaze to the male who sat alone at a rear table.
She nodded. He growled, slapping the bar dismissively.
The muscular female cautiously approached him. She recoiled when the bald drow stood up, gesturing with a bejeweled hand for her to follow him. She gritted her teeth. She was tried of all the clandestine meetings. She choked, pulling on the collar.
Without much choice, she trailed after the finely dressed male. He led her to a private room. She flinched when she heard the door clank shut in the dark. She cried out.
“Do not be alarmed, Dâ€™Jaral said in the tongue of the surface races. From his forefinger, a spark of flame appeared. He used it to light a candle infused with a powerful scent. He graciously gestured to a chair at the round table.
The barbarian stood as stiff as stone, staring hungrily at the plates of food.
“Come and partake, he cooed.
“What do ye want of me?
“You are mistaken, the bald drow said. “It is you that wants something from me.
“Is it poisoned?
Dâ€™Jaral flopped onto a chair, and with an overly dramatic motion, his obsidian hands plucked up a carving knife. He cut off a leg. He savored the juices, licking his lips noisily.
She descended on the platter of meat with the glee of a clarion bird. Yellow teeth tore into the roasted skin. Her hand greedily seized hold of a goblet. She guzzled, burping. She bit and gulped until it hit her, until her head hit the table.
On that cue, the drow began the interrogation.
********
Keelin shook the male, ending his wakeful nightmare.
Caelathim blinked. He could not consciously remember fleeing from the sound of the horrible chanting and entering the chamber. He stared at the drow with a pair of defeated eyes, sweating profusely beneath his armor. He exhaled a haggard breath, preparing to receive her reprimand “ a blade wedged between his ribs.
“You survived, Keelin said compassionately. “Many males did not survive the widowâ€™s embrace. She released his shoulders when she was certain he would not collapse.
“I hate her.
Keelin remained silent, suspecting his declaration included mother and daughter.
He pressed his spine to the stone wall, sliding down into a crouch.
He hid his face in his hands, the only sanctuary he had known in the heartless Underdark. She listened to the muffled sobs that racked his shoulders.
“Do you hate your lord?
He raised his head. His ageless, angular features were devoid of expression.
Keelin scowled at the cowering elf. “Why do you protect the daughter of your betrayer?
“For the love of a child.
Keelin absorbed his words with the effect of a landed punch, staggering her.
“I could not abandon her to her mother. I could not abandon her to the evil that consumes the drow.
His selfless act would have baffled a dark elf warrior. He valued the life of a drow, a female child not sown from his own loins. He justified his humiliation and subjugation as the payment for her survival.
She nodded, realizing their differently colored skin concealed their kindred spirits. He had endured the horrors of his captivity by clinging to his surface principles. Her abnormal sense of morality had kept her sane in a bedlam of ruthless predators.
“Come, she said. “I have silenced their voices.
Caelathim crept past the door to the chapel, not daring to peer inside, for he knew the skill of her sword. He could not mourn their demise; he could merely turn a blind eye to the efficiency of the deed.
When he had fled the corridor, his panicked scream had alerted the priestesses to their intrusion. Keelin had to leave no living witnesses. The edict of drow perpetration offered him little solace. He shuddered at the thought of four lightless souls gathering before the throne of Lolth, wailing for revenge.
Keelin slapped his slumping spine, compelling him to move on.
Casting a fleeting glance at the blood-splattered floor, he wondered how many more had to join the assemblage, wondering how many more deaths had to be tallied before the Spider Queenâ€™s thirst was quenched. He bowed his head, fearing the answer.
********
The priestess guided her down a sharply slanting path, wading through the knee-high sludge.
Miya growled, raising the white hairs on the nape of her neck. Her instinctive distrust was prudent, for she had unwittingly interrupted the princessâ€™ hour of recreation. Miya had not graciously yielded her whip, enthralled in the act of shedding fresh blood.
The female halted, gesturing at the ghastly sight with the end of her glowing wand.
Miya shoved her aside, glowering at the water worms gnawing on the carcass of the slain serpent. She tossed a bolt of lightning at the gluttonous creatures. “Lolth banish her to the Nine Hells and leave her to languish there forever!
The female cowered, not wanting to be her next target.
“Summon the hunter to my audience chamber, Miya commanded, stalking away in frustration.
********
Chardia groaned, baring her sharp teeth. She was naked, lying prone on a limestone table, dripping sweat. She had rented the chamber discreetly, dropping an absurd amount of coins into the palm of the proprietress.
A slave absentmindedly poured water over a pit of coals. The glowing red squares hissed, releasing plumes of steam. The male attending to her wore a linen loincloth. The hazy atmosphere, the expert rhythm of his hands lulled her into a mood. He glided his palms over her skin, coating her generously with a rose-scented oil. She folded her arms over a pillow, cradling her head. He kneaded her tight muscles, easing her tensions. He dragged his fingers down her tapering flanks, pressing his thumbs to her backbone. She relished the sensations of the mute masseur until the door blew open.
Vierala entered the chamber imperiously with her male entourage. She was dressed in a corset of crimson leather and lace, accentuating her sensuous curves. Her skirt was cut daringly high on her thighs, trailing a long train behind her. She was armed with a wizardâ€™s staff. It was carved out of birch, encrusted with various gems of power. She clucked her tongue patronizingly. “You are neglecting your duties.
The one-eyed shadow guardian lifted herself onto her elbow, pretending to stifle a yawn. “I am surprised she noticed I was missing.
“Perhaps you had another reason for departing the palace secretly?
“You know me so well, sister. Chardia leaned on one elbow, reaching up to caress the chest of the male attendant. “Will you partake? I promise I will not tell.
Vierala whirled on the leader of her escort, banishing the males with a wicked smile. She hoisted her staff, clasping a delicate hand to her spider-shaped pendant. She chanted softly, sealing the chamber with a ward to prevent eavesdropping. She turned on her heel, planting a fist on her hip. She glared at the masseur.
“The proprietress had the fortuitous chance to spare the lives of the defective curs. She signed a command to the male with the ladle.
He dropped it into the bucket. He approached the priestess cautiously, gesturing for her to lay down her staff. She deposited it with the large pile of vicious weapons. He tentatively undressed her, leading her to the adjacent table. She slithered onto her stomach and mashed a satin pillow beneath her. He poured oil onto her skin. He massaged her feet and ankles, caressing her calves in long passes. She purred.
Chardia waited until her fellow was absorbed in the stimulation before she decided to voice her dissent, beginning with the slaughter of Masaghar and the motley army he once commanded. “It is a clear sign her bid for the throne will not go unchallenged.
“Does Chardia Torarntâ€™tar mourn the loss of fodder? She tightened her buttocks as his fingers crept lightly onto her thighs, caressing her like the hairy legs of a spider. She shuddered.
“I care not if the filthy beasts were felled by drow blades,
Chardia rasped. “I care if a matron dares to move against Miya. She leveled her gaze upon her, intimidating her with the intensity of a female accustomed to dominating inferiors. “Her defeat will ultimately be our defeat. We cannot afford to be thwarted now.
Vierala rose and rubbed her chin on consternation.
“Perhaps we support the wrong sister.
She gaped at Chardia.
“You heard the handmaiden of Lolth, denying her request.
“Hold your tongue.
“Miya has angered the Dark Mother with her sloth. All the privileges she claims were given to her by birthright. Naught was taken by her. Naught was accomplished by her own deeds. She is a merely a bloodless drowling, playing the part the oracle created for her.
Vierala listed to the priestess with more than a passive ear. She was the third daughter of a merchant house. She had always envied the nobility, often gritting her teeth at the fickle dispensation of fate and fortune. She had more to lose than the high born female. She did not want to return to the merger life of managing the rothe herds for her mother, fearing the smell of their dung would forever cling to her.
“What do you propose? she said inaudibly.
Chardia smiled. “We should not wait for the matron to wreck more havoc. We should seek her out “ and deal with her.
Vierala acknowledged the double meaning with a nervous nod.
The cyclopic priestess smiled triumphantly, pleased with the first threads she had spun.
********
Gruesome statues lined the corridor, perched on pedestals.
Caelathim purposefully lagged behind her, mistrustful of the absolute gloom of the corridor. His enchanted bracer barely enhanced the blackness to shades of gray. A hesitant movement, a slight shift in the air ahead caught his attention. He froze.
She turned, signing with her hand. Before the elf could warn her, a large black spider suddenly jumped out of an alcove. It rammed into the drow, sending her sprawling onto her buttocks. It scurried after her swiftly, snapping its long pincers and watching her with its cluster of eyes. He fired the crossbow, driving a green-banded projectile into the center of the red hourglass on its abdomen. It hissed, turning on the male vindictively. He fumbled to reload the crossbow. The spider lunged at him. It battered the elf with its front legs, knocking the bolt from his hand. He swung the useless weapon, pounding it against the arachnid.
Keelin scrambled to her feet and charged, unsheathing her sword with a war cry. She sliced at its undefended abdomen, splattering her face with its sticky juices. It emitted a shrill sound and thrashed its legs. She plunged her sword into its head, ending its dance.
He bent to retrieve the bolt.
“Useless male, the matron sneered, flicking the spiderâ€™s fluids from the blade.
Caelathim slid in the bolt into the crossbow.
Keelin glared at the light elf, growling as he raised its sight threateningly.
“Move, he shouted.
She ducked at the sound of the click, tumbling aside. She squinted as the bolt flew past her, trailing a smoking tail. It struck the perched arachnid, penetrating one of its glowing eyes. It fell to the floor, consumed in a ball of magical flames. It twitched, collapsing in a charred mass.
The smell of brunt hair engulfed the elves, accentuating their standoff.
She nodded tautly at the male.
He held out his hand. She grasped it, planting her feet beneath her. He pulled her close and kissed her.
The drow welcomed the invasion of his lancing tongue.
********
A dark dot of light appeared in the rear room of the tavern. It elongated vertically, tearing a thin line in the dimensional fabric. Foot soldiers in the employ of the Worms stepped from it, saluting the seated bald drow with solid strikes to their chests.
“Remove her, Dâ€™Jaral said with a limp-wristed wave of his hand.
In one fluid motion, Rantonoyn unsheathed a kris and grasped a handful of the unconscious slaveâ€™s dirty blond hair, sliding the short, wavy blade beneath her chin.
“Not yet, Dâ€™Jaral said. “I still have need of her.
Rantonoyn grunted. He hated the surface-dwellers and females in general.
“She is a fountain of untouched information, he said, rebuking the broad-shouldered subordinate.
Rantonoyn glowered at the human. “What could a thrall possibly know?
“Secrets. Dâ€™Jaral winked. “The priestesses are hoarding secrets.
He raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, a slender blade popped into the center of his gray-colored palm. He plucked a rounded fruit from the tableâ€™s basket, smoothly cutting into its green skin. He jabbed his tongue against the white flesh, tasting the foreign juice. He chewed the slice thoughtfully, licking his lips. He discarded it, eyeing the basket once more.
“Lies, the hulking male hissed. “The females would never share their secrets with her ilk.
“Not willingly, the hairless lieutenant admitted. “Mistresses are arrogant, oblivious to the ugliness of flesh. Slaves are invisible, performing the filthiest tasks. Slaves are our best source of information. He took a strawberry, slicing off the green leafy crown. He sampled it, frowning at its pulpy taste. “Be grateful the females are indifferent to our legions of spies, or our coffers would be as empty as their hearts.
Rantonoyn shrugged gruffly, shifting the weight of the greatsword strapped to his back.
“It seems the priestesses are hiding something of great value in the temple.
“Treasure? Barolilinyon said with a greedy glint in his eyes.
“Alas, she has not peered inside the chamber, Dâ€™Jaral replied with a wistful sigh.
“She is useless, the sellsword rasped sardonically, pleased he could finally slit the humanâ€™s throat.
“Not entirely. I can draw a map of the tunnels from her memories, detailing a route “
“You cannot be considering a raid on Lolthâ€™s temple, Rantonoyn interrupted, addled by fear.
“It would be unwise to ignore this opportunity that has been so conveniently laid before us.
“It would be suicidal to enrage the Dark Mother with our trespass.
He pressed the blade against her throat. “I say, be done with her “ before her mistress takes notice of her absence. The blade released a trickle of blood.
Dâ€™Jaral bridled at his insolence.
His brother stayed his hand. Rantonoyn pulled free of his grasp, miffed.
Dâ€™Jaral relented, reminding himself that the ruthless conditioning of the matron mothers would not be undone in merely one generation. He stood and strutted around the table, concealing the blade up his sleeve. He lightly patted her head. “It would be no different than plundering the noble houses, stealing the treasure from their chapels and removing the jewelry from their corpses.
Rantonoyn nodded reluctantly.
Dâ€™Jaral clasped a hand to his muscular shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, he said, using a spell encased in a ring to discreetly send a jolt of searing pain throughout his nervous system, “but your advice was not solicited.
“Master, Barolilinyon shouted, watching as his brother contorted, conscious of the dagger tucked into his belt.
Dâ€™Jaral waggled the index finger of his free hand at the whining rogue.
“Apologies, Barolilinyon cried. “Fear loosened his tongue. He fears and hates Lolth in equal measure. Please forgive his crime.
Dâ€™Jaral lifted his hand, releasing the squirming male.
Rantonoyn fell to his knees, panting.
“Consider my words carefully before you dare to draw that beastly blade. He crossed his arms over his chest imperiously. “The leader will hear of my scheme, and if it is flawed, it will be forgotten. Do you doubt the leaderâ€™s judgment?
The males shook their heads in unison.
“Excellent. He clapped his hands. “Do as I bid you, then. Take her to the lair and place her in a cell. He cast a globe of darkness over her head, blinding the slave in case she awoke while in transit to their hideout. “Guard her well. No harm must befall her.
Barolilinyon aided his brother to stand, bearing his weight with a grimace.
“Upon my return, I will finish my probe and report my findings to the leader.
“It shall be done, Barolilinyon replied.
Rantonoyn sheathed the kris. He wordlessly seized hold of the female, hoisting her up from the chair. He tossed her over his shoulder as if she was as light as a cloak. He stalked to the temporary portal and departed with the captive.
“The hunter seeks Imara for a kill. Should he be recalled?
Dâ€™Jaral cupped a hand to his chin, stroking his thin lips with a forefinger. “No. I will leave him on the sava board. Let him hunt.
Barolilinyon nodded, dashing into the magical rift.
********
Keelin hid in the narrow alcove with the light elf. He squirmed, finding no relief from the spikes of her skirt. The sharp points pressed against his groin, needling him with the pain of a thousand stingers.
The drider scurried down the corridor on its eight legs. Its humanoid torso was bare and bloated. Its original gender was indiscernible. Its black skin, glistening with a coat of sweat, hinted at its former heritage. Its red eyes scanned the shadows, searching for the heat of living prey. Its hands gripped the handle of a two-headed axe. It paced the corridor restlessly until it shrugged, bored with the fruitless hunt. It departed, passing the huddled elves.
Caelathim slumped against her, sighing into her mane of white hair.
Her spell of invisibility had deceived the drider, saving their lives. He wondered if she would be able to escape the palace after expending so many of her spells to infiltrate it.
She brought his hand to her mouth, suckling his severed fingers. She heard a throaty groan, whether from vexation or pleasure she could not tell. She bit the stumps. He nibbled her earlobe, equally trading taunts with her. She ended the mischief quickly.
Keelin slid out of the alcove first. Her senses were heightened by the elixir of adrenalin. The elation of the hunt consumed her. She motioned for the elf to proceed down the corridor. She followed him cautiously, waving the blade at every section of shadow.
Caelathim came to a granite door with an animated guardian. He recoiled from its evil aura.
The drow, forcibly trained in the secrets of Lolthâ€™s high priestesses, yanked him out of its foul gaze protectively. She retrieved a vial, pouring the green potion into her mouth. She spit on the guardian and chanted.
The door swung open ominously.
He hesitated, leveling the crossbow in preparation for a sudden attack.
“Quickly, she hissed.
The door closed with a sentient groan of protest, sealing the elves inside the bedchamber of Princess Miya.
********
“The serpent was slain, Miya said with a sneer.
“Not a simple task, I assure you, he said with a pronounced lisp. “Its scales were as hard as adamantine.
“I must have a replacement.
“It will cost you more, the hunter answered. “I will have to capture a fresh beast.
Miya grasped her vile whip, mentally commanding the six heads to strike out.
He severed the heads, sliding the dirks unerringly into their scabbards before she could track the movements of his hands.
“I will give you half the price, she said grudgingly.
“A pleasure, he said, bowing insolently, “it is to serve the drow queen.
“Bring it to the temple before the thirteenth night.
The faceless hunter whistled a hollow tune, strutting from the chamber.
********
“Empty, Caelathim shrieked. He swung the crossbow at the black webbing of the canopy bed, venting his frustration, forestalling the blow to his diminishing hope of salvation.
“Patience, Keelin chided.
He saw no advantage in remaining in a vacant chamber, surrounded by various torture devices.
She leaned against the wall indifferently, watching the light elf pace.
“It has all been for naught.
“The archmage has not reset the magical flame in the time tower, she said tonelessly, peering out at the slumbering city from behind the balcony curtains. “It is her habit to enter reverie after the surface event of sunrise. She will enter our trap willingly.
Her bloodlust was infectious, and it quickly refreshed his spirit.
“Her rest will be eternal, the drow proclaimed.
********
Tarin partially opened his swollen eyes, recognizing the chamber he awoke in. “Have you no sense?
“Bite your tongue, hypocrite, Luana Aleanvalett retorted.
He had failed to assassinate Matron Ulviirda, and to the ire of Lolth, he was still drawing breath.
He squirmed on the spider-silk sheets, squinting in the light of a candle.
She came into his field of vision. She wore a filmy, scarlet gown and slippers with curled-up toes. Her bone-white hair cascaded over her protruding clavicles. She planted a knee onto the bed and reclined into the satin pillows, stretching out beside the muttering male. She softly ran her hand down his hairless chest.
“Foolish child! The patron strained his muscles, struggling to move.
“The venom of her whip is not lethal, she said casually, “but it taxes the body, immobilizing prey until she delivers the final blow.
Tarin collapsed. He panted, remembering the cramping numbness, the bites of the fangs, and the searing pain. He believed he could still feel it, floating through his veins.
“Why did you save me?
“I should have left you sprawled out on the chapel floor?
“It was her will, he hissed.
Her indifferent shrug caused the strap to slip down her slender shoulder.
“You have brought the wrath of Lolth upon you!
He clutched a handful of the charcoal sheets, wiggling his truck and dragging his torso across the mattress.
She grasped the base of his skull, startling the male with her strength. She smiled.
The patron stared into her eyes fearfully.
She raised a flask to his lips, pouring the brown liquid down his throat.
********
Imara pranced into the main chamber of the temple. Her black veil and the excessively long drape of her sleeves marked her to prying eyes. She paid her respects to her dark deity, groveling before the altar.
“Does she bother to listen to your prayers, priestess?
Imara scrambled to her feet. She scanned the shadows between the tall stone pillars with her heat-sensitive eyes. The bodiless voice taunted her, raising the hairs on the nape of her neck.
“Lolth listens to the prayers of her chosen children, the high priestess said boldly, encouraged by the ceremonial dagger strapped to her wrist. She started to mouth the words of a detection spell.
The prick of a blade interrupted her casting.
“Would she hear you scream? a lisping voice said. “Would she relish the sound?
“Enough of your games, she rasped, resisting the instinct to cower.
The hunter slid a hand around her robust waist, pressing her firmly to his chest.
Imara clawed at his hand, flinching at the sensation of his heated breath.
“Pray to Lolth. Beg her to save you.
“I have need of your services, sellsword, she hissed.
“Tell me of your dark need.
“I want Miya to die, she said imperceptibly.
“The price, he said into her ear, “is beyond the means of a houseless priestess.
“I will return your name “
“My matron is dead. Her house has fallen! Lolth sanctioned our ruin by way of your traitorous lips. He pressed his palm to her forehead, tilting her skull against his shoulder. “I am dead, priestess. I have been dead for four hundred years. He slid the blade beneath her trembling chin, sawing the blunt edge against her skin. “I cannot be recalled from the hell you sent me to languish in.
“Name your price. I have coins. I have chests full of jewels.
“Your wretched goddess has abandoned you.
“I have magical scrolls. I have enchanted weapons and armor.
His humorless cackle unnerved her. Surely no drow could refuse to profit from an assassination?
Imara swallowed dryly. “I have healing salves. I can give you a new face.
He ripped the veil from her head.
“Negotiate! she shouted. “I have slaves to trade, fresh females.
His silence distressed the priestess. She was quickly running out of tokens to dangle before the rogue.
“I will barter with you.
Imara smiled, unprepared for the price he would demand of her.
He dragged her to the altar. While he maintained the pressure of the blade at her throat, he swung his arm out furiously. He toppled the spider statue, sending it crashing to the floor, shattering it into a dozen pieces.
She gasped, appalled at his sacrilegious act.
“Are you able to breed, priestess?
Imara blinked, confused by the connotations of his question.
“Disrobe. His hand slid behind her, randomly bumping against her buttocks.
She offered him a ssins d''aerth.
“Disrobe, he rasped, burrowing a hand beneath her frock. His touch caused her skin to prickle.
“I am not fresh, the priestess said to stall him.
“I care not to claim your virtue.
The thought of joining with the renegade disgusted her. He was a worthless male of common blood.
“I will take you, he said threateningly, “or I will take your head.
She lifted her garments over her flabby cheeks and submissively presented her puckered circle.
He positioned his hands on her waist, jabbing at her vaginal opening.
“You do not have the rank for such a privilege!
He pinned her to the altar. “I was once the patron of her house.
Imara relented. “Be quick in taking your pleasure.
“I desire no pleasure from your bloated flesh, priestess.
She bristled at the insult. “Tell me the reason I am made to suffer your intrusion!
“Life, he chided. “I want the life you stole from my matron “ the life I had planted within her womb. I want a life as payment for the death you task me to cause.
She trembled at his terms. Her cunning wits deserted her in that unfavorable moment, leaving her with the hollowness of her existence and the bitterness of her soul.
“Will you trade, priestess? he grunted.
She realized it was a trivial price, considering the gains of her plot. “Yes.
“Be warned, priestess. I will not suffer betrayal lightly.
She nodded numbly at the threat.
“If you birth it and offer it to your accursed spider goddess, he reiterated, “if you drink poison to mercilessly kill it, I will not spare you again.
“Do my bidding and I will give you your filthy spawn.
“Pray to her, priestess. He lowered the dirk. “Pray it will be a male “ the son who was never born.
Imara obediently chanted, invoking a fertility spell.
He tried to enter her. The constriction of her vaginal muscles denied his engorged member entrance.
“Have you forgotten how to pleasure a female? she taunted.
He thrust futilely, grunting.
She laughed. “Or do you prefer a rothe to mount?
He bent her over the altar. He kicked her ankles and spread her limbs apart. He took his cumbersome organ in hand, pressing the crown to her opening, forcing it into the vice-tight canal of her vagina. She snarled, expelling it with strong contractions. He gritted his teeth, ramming it in painfully. She hissed as it impaled her and remained within her. She closed her eyes, concentrating on pushing it out. He shoved it in with a strangled groan, enduring the pain as she clamped her muscles around him.
“Do not vex me, priestess, he said warningly.
“No foreplay, hunter, she jeered.
He pumped his pelvis savagely, thrusting it in deeper and deeper, struggling to control his breathing. He clawed at her shoulders, pulling the folds of the robe apart. He cupped her enormous breasts with his rough-skinned hands, kneading her nipples.
She moaned, excited by his strength.
He sensed her yielding to him. He prodded her to recline on the altar, propping her feet on the stone. He parted her thighs, bending to her patch of coarse white hair. His tongue lapped at her in gentle strokes, darting in and out of her sodden passage occasionally. She pulled on his mane viciously, pressing his hairless face to her. He licked her clitoris cunningly.
His hands skimmed the lengths of her thick limbs, and with a firm grip, he braced her thighs against his chest, bending her knees over his wide shoulders. He penetrated her fully, plunging his pulsating member in frantically. He howled, blasting out heated breath from his lungs, spastically hammering her mounds.
The discharge came too quickly for Imara, who was panting and sweating.
He withdrew, wiping his fluids on the altarâ€™s black cloth.
“Return to me this night, she said breathlessly, adjusting her garments around her.
He grimaced. “The deed is done.
“I will give you no chance to default on our pact. She grasped his wasted member assertively, yanking on it to stress her point. “You are old, hunter. You will plant your seed until I am ripe.
He swatted her hand. “Take care of the web you weave.
Imara smiled. “Do not miss the target.
The faceless male retrieved the dirk and departed in a whirl of his cloak.
Imara rubbed her tender abdomen.
********
The door to the bedchamber opened. A dark feminine form entered.
Keelin lurched at her once the portal sealed, swinging her sword high with the intent of decapitating the princess in one fluid strike. The drow parried, dropping a capsule from her pouch. The chamber was immediately engulfed in a flash of white light. Its radiance assaulted Keelin, imparting her sensitive vision, leaving her vulnerable. She swiped frantically at her enemy, continuously missed the dodging drow.
“Ambush! Caelathim said frenetically. “It is not her.
The drow cackled, cracking her whip as he leveled the crossbow at her. Its nine bladed tips struck the elf, shredding his check. She chanted throatily. The might of her wind spell sent him careening into the wall, furiously blasting the air from his lungs. He crumpled to the floor, motionless, blood trickling out of his nose.
Keelin charged the drow impostor, unleashing a vengeful wail and blindly slashing her sword. The drow raised her hand, casting a spell. Keelin halted abruptly, rooted in place. She clubbed Keelin, battering her with the whipâ€™s adamantine handle. The drow wrapped the whip around her throat with a murderous glint in her red eyes.
When the false light faded, Keelin smiled maliciously at the impostor.
The drow tightened the improvised noose.
“Miya will be joining you, Keelin said between gasps for breath, “in the Demonweb Pits.
Blood splattered across her face.
The impostorâ€™s head tilted, toppling over the crisscrossed blades of his dirks.
The root spell suddenly terminated.
“Foul creature, Caelathim said, staring sullenly at the gurgling corpse.
“A shadow guardian, she said bitterly, “is chosen by Lolth to protect her mortal vessel. She clenched her teeth. “Through the possession of Miya as the drow queen, Lolth could walk the Underdark and spread chaos. It cannot be allowed. Her avatar must be destroyed.
Caelathim trembled. His seed had been used to spawn Miya, weaning her on his immortal soul.
“Come. Keelin tossed the whip aside. “We have lost the advantage.
The stone door rattled, stressing the huge metal hinges.
“It is too late. He readied his weapons.
The door began to glow, super-heated by a powerful spell. Cracks soon appeared in the stone. The ferocity of monstrous pounding split the door apart unevenly. A mammoth fist crashed through it.
“Elemental! Keelin wailed.
The female drow, standing behind the summoned entity, waved her staff. “Kill the disbelievers!
The elemental rammed its shoulder into the portal and burst into the chamber. It raised its heavy arms, swinging savagely at Keelin. She dodged the strike, countering with her sword. The impact sent a jolt of pain through her forearm. Its skin was a vermillion pattern of burning stones. It lurched at her murderously, launching its fist with the weight of a sledgehammer. It crashed into the wall.
Keelin ducked under it, scrambling to avoid the hail of melting stone chunks. Embers set her hair on fire.
Caelathim launched a bolt.
The elemental reared its head, roaring at the sting. It twisted its waist, flinging a backhand swipe at the elf. Its hand slowed; a blue pallor quickly spread over it, spreading widely from the site of the lodged bolt.
She rushed at it, seizing advantage of its frigid immobility. Her fatherâ€™s sword slashed at the elemental, repeatedly cutting into the groove the wicked blade had started. She severed its arm, growling victoriously.
The elemental, called from the Plane of Fire, cried out to its iniquitous mistress.
The drow chanted, engulfing the entity in a fireball, empowering it.
It shattered the encasement, roaring.
Caelathim pressed the trigger. The bolt pierced the drowâ€™s chest.
Her red eyes stared at the crimson band.
The explosion ended her scream of denial, scattering grisly pierces of charred bone and flesh.
The elemental thrashed its arms, stomping its feet.
“Run! Caelathim shouted.
Keelin darted beneath its wide-spread legs, slashing its knees.
The bolt lanced the elemental between its eyes.
Keelin ran to the balcony.
“Run! he rasped, tossing down the crossbow. He drew the dirks, charging the elemental in a burst of speed, wielding the blades in a deadly whirlwind. Fiery shards flew, igniting the canopy curtains.
Keelin hesitated to leap over the railing.
Caelathim hacked futilely. The elemental resisted the boltâ€™s magic, feeding on the bonfire of the chamberâ€™s combustible furnishings. It swatted the male, blistering the skin on the right side of his face.
A cone of frost slammed into the elemental from across the room.
The elemental howled, succumbing to the drowâ€™s magic.
Caelathim became a sculptor of death, shaving blue slivers, carving deep wedges into its skin.
The cracking of ice sounded their victory.
The elemental shattered into a hundred pieces across the floor.
Keelin sauntered through the melting debris. Her lavender eyes were aglow with the heat of battle and the undeniable passion for her newly acquired male. She clenched her gauntlet into a fist. “I am the female. I give the commands.
Caelathim grunted, foaming at the mouth.
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Hollow Conquest