Before she got her fingers to it, though, she found another item, one more comforting.
“Guenhwyvar, oh I need you,” she whispered, bringing the onyx figurine in close to her chest.
A few heartbeats later, she felt the panther climb up beside her, then flop down with her back against Catti-brie’s leg, as if reading the woman’s mind.
The bed groaned under the weight of the great cat, but Catti-brie didn’t care. Even if it broke, she would lie there on the fallen mattress, safe with Guen so close. She reached down to ruffle the panther’s fur, and the cat looked up to regard her. Even in the dim light, those feline eyes shined.
And Catti-brie took great comfort-for a moment.
Then the image in her mind changed, the panther’s eyes transforming into those pale yellow orbs that ruled Catti-brie’s fevered night.
CHAPTER 15
Jarlaxle was nearest to the opened double doors. He spun to meet that threat, Khazid’hea in one hand, a wand in the other. A mob of Melarni guards rushed to the defense of their matron mother-then stumbled as one when a blob of syrupy goo slammed into the leading pair, stopping them cold. A second heavy glob flew in to further bind and entangle the group.
For a moment, Jarlaxle thought he had the situation in hand, but above that second magical glob came a huge spear-and the mercenary realized that one of the famed and deadly Melarni driders had come.
“Do not hesitate!” Jarlaxle warned his capable companions once again, a command doubly critical now that he had to abandon the fight with the priestesses and retreat to the doors, to get them closed and secured before all hope was lost.
“The balcony,” Matron Mother Zhindia said from beside Kiriy.
Kiriy had reached the main corridor to the room where Matron Mother Darthiir Do’Urden was, her goal nearly in sight. But at the intersection was also the corridor leading to the forward guard chambers, with the balcony entrance to House Do’Urden just beyond those.
Kiriy’s instincts told her to go straight to dispose of the wretched surface elf abomination, and so she didn’t welcome the order to defend the balcony instead. She understood Zhindia’s insistence, though, from a practical standpoint. The war was clearly on now, given the sounds echoing about. The Hunzrin soldiers were advancing. This fight had to be about more than Dahlia
She started to respond, but felt a jolt. Though it was a sensation Kiriy had never before experienced, she somehow understood that the connection to the Melarni war room had been severed. Instinctively, she glanced back the way she had come, expecting the troublesome and impudent Ravel and his loyal wizards to come rushing down against her.
But no, the path behind her was clear, and she had left the audience chamber and her siblings far, far behind.
“Are you there?” she whispered.
No answer.
She was torn. She glanced again along the corridor that would wind around the House chapel and take her to Darthiir’s room, but she knew in her heart that she couldn’t go that way. Not yet. She had to obey Matron Mother Zhindia. House Melarn would be all-important to her ascent and restructuring of House Xorlarrin. She picked up her pace and was soon sprinting along the corridor. She burst into the first guard station to find a handful of House Do’Urden soldiers milling about anxiously, weapons drawn.
For a moment, Kiriy expected they would turn and attack her, but she quickly remembered that they thought her on their side.
But she surely wasn’t an ally. They were Baenre and Bregan D’aerthe soldiers.
“What is happening?” she asked sharply.
“First Priestess, they are battling on the balcony,” one answered.
“It is House Hunzrin,” said another. “The stone heads!”
“And you are here?” Kiriy asked with as much incredulity as she could manage.
“We will use the choke point of the door to hold them, First Priestess,” answered the first of the previous speakers, who seemed to be the leader.
“Fools!” Kiriy scolded. “House Baenre is watching and will see our troubles, surely-indeed, they already have, of course!” She wasn’t sure if she was correct or not, but likely it was true that the battle had been noted beyond the balcony of House Do’Urden. Kiriy left out the part where House Baenre would do nothing to help the doomed House Do’Urden, caught as they were in the tangled web Archmage Gromph had made.
“To the balconies with you!” she cried. “At once. Put on a grand display. Fight for your House and your honor until the Baenre garrison arrives, and let all the Hunzrin fodder die out there on the balcony.”
The guards looked at each other doubtfully, and Kiriy hid her smile at the confirmation that the Hunzrin forces had come in great numbers.
“Go!” she shouted. “Let our enemies know complete defeat before they have ever entered our house! Go, I say, or feel the wrath of Lady Lolth, who will brook no cowardice!”
The five scrambled out, and Kiriy followed, waving for the guards in the next room to join in with the first group. From that second doorway, the first priestess got a glance at the balconies, where Hunzrin soldiers swarmed and Do’Urden guards died.
“For the glory of Lolth,” she whispered, hoping against hope that Matron Mother Zhindia could hear her and had seen the beautiful battle through her eyes.
Kiriy ran back through the rooms and along the corridor, smiling, giggling even, at the thought of murdering the abominable Matron Mother Darthiir. She considered the spells she would use to incapacitate the fool, and decided that the final blow would come from her hands-physically. She would feel Dahlia’s blood. She would hear the last gasping breath of this abomination whose very existence mocked the glory of the Spider Queen.
The Priestess standing in front of him sneered when Artemis Entreri came out of his disguise, revealing himself as a mere human. That would be to his advantage, Entreri knew. The dark elves would not understand the weight of the threat he posed in this “inferior” skin.
The whip cracked above his head, and he ducked and reflexively threw Charon’s Claw up horizontally to keep the stinging weapon high. But in came the skilled priestess, low and fast with her mace, the weapon sparkling with magical energy, and it took all of Entreri’s balance to allow him to backtrack enough to avoid a brutal strike.
And so the assassin reminded himself not to fall victim to the same thing, not to underestimate these opponents. These were dark elves, supremely trained, marvelously agile, and worse, these were drow women, whose training typically exceeded that of the males.
He came back to an upright and balanced position and began a countering routine, trying to find some fast way inside the reach of that vicious whip.
It cracked again, just to his left, too far to pose a threat, and so he thought he had his chance.
But before he could even take the first step forward, something magically appeared in the air to his right, and he understood a moment before the summoned magical hammer struck him that the priestess in front of him had snapped her whip merely as a distraction for her sister, who remained on the floor to the side.
Entreri took the hit, turning and bending at the last instant to accept it on the shoulder instead of the side of his face. He continued turning, and threw himself to his left in a spinning dive, which froze the priestess in front of him in surprise and afforded Entreri the moment he needed.
As he turned in that spin, he noted the kneeling priestess, once more spellcasting, and his left arm flicked beneath his downward-facing chest in a sudden backhand.
The kneeling priestess had magical wards engaged, of course, but magical, too, was Entreri’s jeweled dagger. It hit the protective shield and drove through, diving into the priestess’s wide eye.