Pharaun frowned and waited for one of the others to say something.
Valas stood waiting for the females to sort it out.
"You seem to know what we'll see," Danifae said to the high priestess, "but you don't know, not for sure."
Pharaun, surprised by the way Danifae had pinned the high priestess down, looked at Quenthel, curious to hear her answer.
"I know that I can't stay here anymore," Quenthel answered. The vipers writhed slowly at her hip. "This place is killing me. We know what needs to be done. Live or die, we live or die in the Abyss at the side of the Spider Queen."
Pharaun lifted an eyebrow and smiled, glancing between the two females.
"We've not even begun," Danifae warned. "There will be much for Jeggred to do. We should wait."
"That, my plaything," the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith shot back, "is not for you to decide. You've presumed enough."
Pharaun recognized that it took considerable effort for Danifae to look down, letting her smoldering red eyes linger on the deck instead of boring into the high priestess. The battle-captive had come a long way, and Pharaun caught himself smiling at her.
"Master Mizzrym," Quenthel said, "take us to Lolth. Now."
"I will require a brief rest," the mage lied. Even as the words passed his tongue, he wondered why he was lying. He didn't look at Danifae. "One more period of Reverie for us all. We should face the goddess rested and at our best."
Quenthel didn't answer but turned and walked away. Danifae lingered.
What are you doing? Aliisza whispered into his consciousness, startling the mage. He'd forgotten she was there. That's not true.
The Mistress of the Academy, he told the alu-fiend, isn't thinking clearly.
Don't want to travel without your draegloth? Aliisza asked.
Would you?
Pharaun could feel her laugh in his mind.
"Thank you," Danifae said.
Pharaun looked up at her with a smile. Quenthel and Valas had both wandered off, but he used sign language to be sure they weren't overheard.
Why should I continue to help you? he asked. What are you doing?
She thought about it for a long time then signed back, I want you to promise me that you wont leave without Jeggred.
And if I do?
Danifae had no answer.
The Mistress irritates me, the mage went on. I've made no effort to mask that. She's tried to kill me in the past. She has treated me with less respect than I deserve, but she is the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith, the most powerful priestess in Menzoberranzan if not in the whole of Lolth's faithful—the matron mothers included. This is her expedition, and her orders are law where I come from.
Not where I come from, Danifae replied, and I serve Lolth as well.
"Perhaps," Pharaun replied aloud, confident that the high priestess had gone back to her quiet, oblivious sulking, "but in what way do you serve me?"
Danifae looked puzzled, her eyes inviting him to continue.
"You wish something of me," he explained. "You ask me to put my life at risk and my future in Menzoberranzan. You ask me to defy the sister of the archmage, my master, and the Matron Mother of the First House, his mistress."
"You want to know what I will give in return?" she asked.
It was his turn to let his eyes invite an answer.
"Answer this," she said. "Do you really want to travel through the Plane of Shadow, into the Astral, through the Plain of Infinite Portals, and to the sixty-sixth layer of the Abyss without Jeggred?"
"He would be of service to us all, I'm sure," said Pharaun, "as he has been, but he doesn't serve me. He doesn't really even like me, if that can be imagined. You, on the other hand, have made an important and powerful new ally to replace the one you've used up."
You think Quenthel is "used up"? Danifae asked silently.
"She's not herself," answered the mage. "That much is obvious, but the question remains: Why should I do anything for you?"
"What do you want?" she asked, and Pharaun got the feeling he could have asked her anything and she would have at least considered it.
"I would feel more comfortable if Ryld was here," he said, not caring if it made him sound weak.
Danifae nodded and said, "Even if he has gone over to Eilistraee?"
"I doubt that that's happened," replied the mage. "Master Argith isn't the religious type."
"His sword arm works for you, as Jeggred's claws work for me," she said.
Pharaun smiled, winked, and nodded.
"I suppose that's fair enough," she said, "but don't ask me to spare Halisstra."
"Who?" Pharaun joked.
That drew a smile from Danifae.
"Keep the draegloth away from Ryld," the mage said. "Bring the Master of Melee-Magthere back here, kicking and screaming if you have to, but alive, and I'll take him from there."
"Agreed," Danifae said. She touched a ring on her right hand and disappeared.
That took Pharaun by surprise.
Interesting,Aliisza said from somewhere. Who is she?
A battle-captive, Pharaun replied, or at least she used to be.
Seems more like a priestess to me, said the alu-fiend.
Yes,Pharaun replied. Yes, she does, doesn't she?
Chapter Nineteen
She spoke entirely in movement, in the subtle nuance of gesture and rhythm, and it all seemed like a glorious dream.
Halisstra felt her body moving. The air swirled around her, cool and invigorating. In the movement she sensed the presence of Danifae. The subtle curve of her former servant's hip turned in a way that suggested duplicity and with a grace that bespoke ambition. Danifae breathed discontentment and stepped into the Demonweb Pits.
Halisstra didn't watch, she danced. She was there, though she had no idea where «there» was. There was no space, only the movement within it—the movement that was the voice of Eilistraee.
Danifae and Halisstra both stepped in time to a different song. They moved toward the same endpoint but for different reasons and were surrounded by the same chilling stillness. In the sway of a shoulder, Eilistraee warned Halisstra not to trust Danifae but pushed her servant along the former battle-captive's path. Halisstra would lead some of the way, and Danifae would lead some too. Both goddesses would push and pull them from the edges, sending them toward a place and a time that no sane draw could possibly imagine except in a goddess-birthed nightmare.
Halisstra felt herself move through a still, empty space, and she knew that space was the Demonweb Pits—the home plane of Lolth, bereft of souls, an empty afterlife with no hope and no future. Halisstra felt Danifae whirl through that same dead space with her and look at Halisstra with the same dull fear. There would be no service, no reward but oblivion, and Danifae would arrive at the same conclusions, be dragged to the same realization.
Danifae can be turned, Halisstra danced.
Eilistraee hesitated.
It was with that wordless sense of uncertainty that the movement ceased. There was a solid, unmoving floor of sanded stone beneath her and dead gates all around. Halisstra rolled onto her back, wiped her face with her hands, and tried to steady her breathing. Sweat poured off her, and her body ached. She felt as if she'd been dancing for hours though she wasn't sure she'd actually been dancing at all
Halisstra looked around at the interior of the gatehouse, searching for Danifae. The former servant was nowhere to be found. Even Halisstra's shouts went unanswered, so she wandered outside.