“She will not come near to Menzoberranzan to discover the truth.”
Matron Mother Zhindia shook her head at that. “Once House Do’Urden is secure, Matron Mother Zeerith cannot be allowed to live. She will not accept the truth of House Do’Urden when you reveal the new ways of Xorlarrin. She will connive with the matron mother to be rid of you.”
“Jarlaxle will lead us back to her, perhaps.”
“Jarlaxle will be dead,” Matron Mother Zhindia assured her. “But there are others of Bregan D’aerthe who will be useful to us. But first, we have much to do. This is too much supposition. We do not truly know Jarlaxle’s plans here in the city.”
“I will see what I can learn.”
Matron Mother Zhindia shook her head. “Just lead me to him. I have a way.”
Kiriy looked to the door to her right in the small chamber, the antechamber to the torture room where Braelin Janquay recovered from the brutality of his trials.
“We stopped it in time to use him,” Matron Mother Zhindia assured her.
“Jarlaxle’s players are fiercely loyal,” Kiriy warned her.
“There is no loyalty in the face of the punishment the rogue Braelin knows will be returned upon him if he disappoints me.”
“That punishment will be returned upon him even if he does not.”
“Of course, but he does not know that, and with the memories of the transformation so fresh in his thoughts, he will not allow himself to believe that.”
The demon showed him Catti-brie, his wife, and let him live with their children, and all was well, and all was grand.
And the beast Errtu ate them, chewed them, tore them apart, before Wulfgar’s eyes, shattering his mind …
The brutal conjuring of that image jolted Drizzt from his slumber at the table in the nondescript common room in the ramshackle building in the Stenchstreets. He opened his eyes to find Jarlaxle and Entreri staring at him incredulously.
“We are at the most dangerous point of our journey and you think it time for a nap?” Entreri asked angrily.
Jarlaxle tried to calm Entreri with a patting hand, while he looked at Drizzt carefully. “Are you all right, my friend?” he asked.
“Is anything all right?” Drizzt replied. “Ever?”
Jarlaxle and Entreri exchanged yet another concerned glance. “He sounds like me,” Entreri snorted. “And he considers me the dour one!”
Jarlaxle shook his head, dismissing the superfluous conversation. “Drizzt,” he said earnestly, “we are almost there. Our goal is in sight on the western wall.”
Drizzt stared at him and couldn’t be bothered with even a nod of agreement. He understood his role here, and though he now doubted the value of it, he would gladly fight-more gladly than ever-against anyone who got in his way.
Simply because he wanted to kill something.
“For Dahlia,” Jarlaxle said, and Drizzt wondered if it really even was Dahlia seated as Matron Mother of House Do’Urden. How deep, how complete, might the deception go?
“There’s your friend,” Entreri interrupted and he led Jarlaxle’s gaze to the entry area of the common room, and to Braelin Janquay who came limping toward them, heavily favoring his right leg.
He glanced around as he neared the table, then sat opposite Drizzt, to Jarlaxle’s left. He stared at Jarlaxle only briefly, then leaned to the edge of the table, his hands beneath. He started signing, but stopped and cautiously glanced around once more.
Then his fingers began their dance, the chatter of the drow, and the words he formed told Jarlaxle that all was well and that the way was clear to House Do’Urden. He explained that Dahlia was seated as expected, paralyzed by her jumbled thoughts in the audience chamber. No one knew of Jarlaxle’s entrance into the city, so said Braelin’s waggling fingers, and no other House was moving against Do’Urden. All was as it should be, as they had hoped it would be, and this was the perfect time to execute their devious plan.
Braelin glanced around again and struggled to stand. All three noted it and glanced at his leg.
“Injured in a patrol,” Braelin replied to Jarlaxle’s concerned look. “It is well on the mend.”
When he was gone, Jarlaxle looked to the others and nodded.
At the same moment, in House Baenre’s Room of Divination, the daughter of Gromph Baenre considered the image in the stoup water and laughed heartily. She grasped K’yorl’s hands tightly and forced herself more deeply into the powerful psionicist’s mind. This cistern was serving her well.
At the same moment, Matron Mother Zhindia Melarn told Kiriy Xorlarrin, “Prepare now for the defense of House Do’Urden,”
“You will help?”
“They are only three,” Zhindia replied, but with a sly tone that didn’t offer any definitive answer to the question.
“Then let us kill them where they sit and be done with it,” Kiriy replied.
“Catching Jarlaxle of Bregan D’aerthe as he tries to rescue the damned Matron Mother Darthiir will greatly shake dear Quenthel’s confidence and position,” Matron Mother Zhindia said.
“And so, too, will this moment of Jarlaxle’s treachery offer us the opportunity to be done with House Do’Urden,” Zhindia went on. “The news of Bregan D’aerthe conspiring overtly against House Baenre will embolden Matron Mother Mez’Barris Armgo to take the steps at long last to put House Baenre back into its proper place and destroy the tyrannical and wrongheaded rule of Matron Mother Quenthel.”
She cast a knowing glance at Iltztrav, the Melarni House Wizard who had facilitated the clairvoyance and clairaudience spells so they could witness Braelin’s deception. Then she added, “Particularly so when Jarlaxle’s companion is revealed.”
She turned back to Kiriy, who was staring at her with confusion and intrigue.
“You did not notice?” Zhindia asked.
Kiriy shook her head ever so slightly.
“The one across from Braelin,” Zhindia explained. “The one with the purple eyes.”
Kiriy Xorlarrin lost her breath and rocked as she stood there. “Drizzt Do’Urden,” she mouthed.
“In Menzoberranzan,” a grinning Zhindia replied, “on his way to House Do’Urden, where we will indeed send assistance to you to ensure his capture.”
Kiriy’s heart was beating so furiously she feared she might faint and fall to the floor.
“Of course we will help-oh, more than help!” Matron Mother Zhindia said. She turned to her wizard. “Alert Shakti Hunzrin. Tell her that the time is upon us.” Then to her daughter, “First Priestess Kyrnill, prepare the war room.”
“So quickly,” an overwhelmed Kiriy remarked.
“We are prepared,” Zhindia replied. Her smile was awful at that moment, but she added a bit of warmth to it as she promised the future Matron Mother of House Do’Urden, “I will arrange for you to be at Council when I present Drizzt Do’Urden to the ruling matron mothers. You will be there when I throw him at the feet of Matron Mother Quenthel and name him as the murderer of Matron Mother Darthiir. When I declare that the great Lady Lolth used this traitor Drizzt to her own advantage as assassin of the abomination Quenthel foolishly seated on the Ruling Council.
“Then, my dear High Priestess Kiriy, Menzoberranzan will know true chaos and upheaval, as is demanded,” the zealous Matron Mother Zhindia Melarn explained, savoring every last word.
“And House Do’Urden will be mine, and a new alliance will bring Baenre to its knees,” Kiriy finished.
PART 3
I have heard powerful men with imperial designs claim that reality is what they choose it to be. That they make their own reality, and so decide the reality for those in their way, and while others are trying to decipher what is truth, they move on to the next conquest, the next creation, the next deception of malleable reality.