Danifae replied, Removed by Quenthel. . Pharaun, really, but on Quenthel's orders. We have found a ship of chaos to take us back to the Abyss.
Halisstra visibly withdrew and signed, I can see why you escaped.
I didn't, really, replied Danifae. I was sent with Master Hune to gather supplies for our doomed little voyage.
How long before they leave? Halisstra asked.
Days still, answered Danifae.
Why are you telling me this? Halisstra asked. You're free now. Go back to Eryndlyn if you dare, or go on with the Menzoberranyr until you all inevitably die. Do as you wish, but you no longer need seek my permission.
I served you, Danifae replied, and now I serve Quenthel. I'm not as free as you might think, Binding or no Binding.
There was a short silence as the two of them studied each other in the darkness. Danifae could somehow feel how far Halisstra had strayed from the path of Lolth, but it was confirmed seconds later by Halisstra herself.
I serve Eilistraee now, Danifae. There will be no more slaves for me.
Danifae pretended to consider that last statement for a while. Internally she tried to get her head to stop spinning. The depth of her former mistress's betrayal was worse than she'd imagined. Danifae couldn't believe she'd ever allowed herself to be taken captive by so weak a mistress—one who would turn her back on her entire culture at the slightest provocation, at the first sign of weakness. It was that thought that snapped Danifae out of her confusion. Halisstra must have seen Lolth's Silence as a sign of weakness and used that opportunity to escape, just as Danifae had seen Halisstra's doubt as a sign of weakness and used that opportunity to escape herself. But would any priestess seek to escapethe service of Lolth?
I like the sound of that, Danifae signed, but we are all slaves sooner or later.
We don't have to be, Halisstra was quick to reply.
Danifae blinked at how strident, how obvious, and how careless her former mistress had become.
Lolth isn't coming back, is she? Danifae asked.
I don't know, replied Halisstra, but it doesn't look good.
If I die still serving her, Danifae asked, where will my soul go? There were no drow souls in the Demonweb Pits, and no entrance past the sealed doors. Where are all those souls?
Halisstra looked at her former servant with a wounded, open look that made Danifae's skin crawl.
What,Danifae asked, are your intentions here?
You found me, her former mistress replied. Tell me, what are your intentions? Spying on me for that Baenre bureaucrat?
No,Danifae replied sharply. I sneaked away from Valas in Sschindylryn. It was the only place to find a portal and to find you, I don't trust the Menzoberranyr.
Why would you? Halisstra replied, eyeing her former servant carefully.
What is the weapons master doing here? asked Danifae.
She could see by Halisstra's reaction that things between she and the weapons master had gone a considerable distance toward the bizarre. The light and air of the World Above must have affected Halisstra in unpredictable ways. Danifae marveled at how such a thing might be possible.
You sit in Reverie against his back? Danifae asked.
Halisstra drew herself to her full height and tried to recapture the manner of a slaveholder. Danifae was unwilling to play the part of the battle-captive.
Instead of flying into a rage, Halisstra simply relaxed.
Do you sit the same way with Quenthel? Halisstra signed.
Danifae made a convincing show of being uncomfortable with that question. She was intimate with Quenthel not out of some alien emotion like love or compassion but because Quenthel could help her. Quenthel, in turn, used Danifae for physical pleasure and to gain a toady. It was all perfectly natural. Halisstra, however, seemed to have turned a corner with Ryld Argith, and that was something Danifae knew she could exploit.
You said that Quenthel is taking the expedition back to the Abyss, Halisstra signed, changing the subject. Why? Why that way? Why all that?
Danifae could have given her some of the reasons, but some were still not clear to her.
I can explain all, Danifae lied, but I must return to Sschindylryn. Valas will grow suspicious, then he'll leave without me. I have to go back to the Underdark then back to the Lake of Shadows. I will contact you again.
Halisstra looked her up and down, appraising her.
"I'll be waiting," Halisstra whispered in Danifae's ear.
Danifae nodded, gave Halisstra a slight bow, and did her best to look at the First Daughter of House Melarn with a face full of sisterhood and friendliness.
When Halisstra disappeared into the dark forest, Danifae signed after her, We'll meet again very soon, Halisstra Melarn. Sooner than you think.
Danifae touched the ring she'd taken from the dying Zinnirit, and a second or two of bizarre sensation later and she was back at the gatehouse.
Perfect,thought Danifae. It worked perfectly.
Chapter Eleven
Valas purchased more supplies than he probably should have—three large bags that carried more than would seem possible from their size or weight—but he couldn't help thinking they'd be gone longer than Pharaun had estimated. Already their journey had lasted longer than any of them had assumed when they'd left Menzoberranzan.
He sat at a small table in an open cafe high up and in the center of the ziggurat-city, waiting for Danifae. The battle-captive hadn't been joking, obviously, when she'd told him that she would ignore his summons. Valas wasn't necessarily anxious to return to the Lake of Shadows, but he did want to leave the city. Dark elves throughout Sschindylryn were looking over their shoulders. Tempers were short, and the lesser races had a dangerous gleam in their eyes. The city wasn't quite as bad off as Ched Nasad, but the scout could see it was headed in that direction and sooner rather than later.
"Waiting for me?" Danifae asked.
Valas turned, surprised, to see her standing behind him. He hadn't noticed her.
"Cities. . " the scout sighed.
He stood, quickly gathering up his bags.
"Are we really in such a hurry?" Danifae asked as she slid into the chair across the table from him.
She looked up at him with one arm raised and a wide, bright grin on her face. She looked different. Valas couldn't help but stare.
"In the Surface Realms," Danifae said, "it's customary for a gentleman to buy a lady a drink. Well, so I hear."
Valas shook his head but found it difficult to take his eyes off the female.
The chair he had been sitting in slowly slid toward him. She pushed it with her foot from under the table.
"Order us a bottle of algae wine," she purred.
Valas turned to order the wine but stopped himself.
"We should get back," he said. "The others will be waiting for us."
"Let them wait."
Valas took a deep breath and shifted the bags onto his shoulders.
"Mistress Quenthel will be displeased," he said, not caring but wanting to be on his way.
"Let her be displeased," Danifae shot back, still smiling, but her eyes grew colder. "I feel a bit like taking a holiday."
"Her House is paying," the mercenary said, still not sitting down.
Danifae looked at him, and Valas felt his skin crawl. It was as if she was peeling off his flesh with her eyes and looking inside him.
She stood slowly, unfolding herself from the chair piece by piece, and Valas watched every subtle movement that made up the whole. She held out a hand.
"I'll carry one," she said.
Valas didn't move to hand her a bag.
Whatever it was about Danifae that had changed, Valas was trying desperately not to like it.
For the drow, as with other sentient races above and below the surface of Faerun, each individual had his own set of skills and talents, his own individual use that served the whole in some way, even if only as an irritant. In Menzoberranzan talent was something that was identified early, and skills were a commodity traded on the open market and imparted on the young only with great care and economy. Individuality was accepted only within certain limits and rarely if at all for males of the species.