As the echoes of battle faded in the dimly lit cavern, a sense of eerie stillness settled upon the weary defenders. The Black Dragons and satyrs, unlikely allies, had fought off wave after wave of relentless assaults from the man-orc army. The man-orc attack had ceased, and for a moment, the narrow cliff road carved into Thera Pass seemed to hold its breath for the outcome. The silence was broken only by the soft shuffle of weary footsteps and the faint rustle of armor as the defenders caught their breath. In this moment of uneasy calm, a foreboding question loomed in the minds of all: what would the enemy do next?

And, indeed, they changed to yet a totally new untried tactic.

They stopped attacking altogether, possibly because their drow commanders had been dazzled.

Graybeard lowered his staff and turned to Sar. “I think we have defeated them for a while.”

“They will still follow us to the surface,” Sar said from past experience. “They have been bred and chosen for that very purpose because they can stand the light. They will have their own generals then and not drow. Once we leave this narrow cliff road where they can attack us out in the open above ground, they will do so.”

“We shall at least now reach the surface,” answered Graybeard. “And we can hold them for now. That is a start.”

Confident this new breed of man-orcs had been stopped for now, Shinayne now joined them, and suggested that the prearranged signal so hurriedly carried out to prevent the Black Dragons from being dazzled remain a standing order. For too much time and ground had been lost before it was implemented, and they could avoid it in the future if they maintained the order. Graybeard agreed.

“How are the others?” asked Sar.

One of the two satyrs answered, “The Black Dragons appear to have taken no more than five losses. Their armor is without compare. Our borrowed orc armor is not so good. We lost two tens dead and four tens wounded, mostly to arrows. We are standing by the Black Dragons, though.”

Graybeard asked. “What of the enemy’s losses?”

“A man-orc dies for every pace they advance. Yet they number into anthills, probably two.”

“What of Amien?” Shinayne suddenly asked, not seeing him and looking about as if concerned for him. “He was on the slope above us. I do not see him now.”

Odd, that she asked about him, for more than just Amien were missing.

“Yes,” said Graybeard now also noticing. “What has become of my company - Amien, young Joe, and the satyr? Where are they?”

“We have not seen them,” answered the satyrs.

“They did not come back?” asked Shinayne, a slight waver in her voice. “For when I last saw them, they were trying to reach our line and were under attack by man-orcs led by a dire bat. They never made it?”

“No,” said the one satyr, “none of them.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Shinayne gave a very hesitant and uncharacteristic reply. “That is most… unfortunate.”

“If it’s any consolation,” offered Sar. “I can still feel the boy. He is alive and well.”

Shinayne nodded, but she did not seem consoled at all.

The two keepers wondered why but did not ask.

Well behind Thera Pass and surrounded by her generals and high priests, Lolth now wanted answers, for she was now fully recovered and back in command. Her anger was a smoldering ember, burning deep within her like an unquenchable fire, ready to consume anything that dared cross its path.

“What of the drider?” she demanded.

“We have captured Mills Breath,” said one of her drow officers. “She was not in it.”

“I did not ask about Mills Breath!” she exclaimed. “I care nothing about it. I care about the drider. Where is she?”

“She must have joined the retreat up to The Three Candles.”

“And why has the retreat not been destroyed?”

“The satyrs fight too well in the rocks and the Black Dragons fight too well on the road. It is a waste of man-orcs to keep up the attack.”

“I have man-orcs to waste! That’s what I created them for!”

“But Lolth, if you waste them now, there will too few when they reach the surface. We need to keep their numbers up. On the surface, the advantages the satyrs and Black Dragons enjoy now will be gone and the sun will destroy their Adamantite weapons. We can kill them all in an hour.”

“I don’t care about the Black Dragons! I don’t care about the satyrs! I don’t care about the dwarves! I want the drider dead!”

“Yes, your godliness.”

“Get out of here! Your useless to me!”

Lolth would have made a drider out of the officer for her failure but there was already one drider too many. She turned to her high priestesses.

“Who summoned that drider’s spider demon, anyway? Who?!”

That drider had the same marking she had. She had attacked Lolth already, and would do it again. Someone had summoned the wrong demon. Whoever did it would pay with their lives for that mistake.

“Your worshipfulness,” offered one of her priestesses. “We don’t think any of us summoned it. The drider has light skin. She is not a drow. Perhaps a half drow?”

“A light elf? She’s a light elf?” echoed Lolth and then remembered her light skin as well. “Yes! That’s right! But we have no light elves here, do we? Those we capture we sacrifice. We do not summon demons for them!”

“Someone did.”

“Vhaeraun!” she realized. “My own son summoned it to kill me!”

“But it fights Vhaeraun’s armies as well as yours. He should not have summoned a spider demon for a light elf. He has no such followers,” said the priestess.

Vhaeraun was in revolt to his mother and wished her dead. Yet his few drow followers only joined him as, being proven assassins, Lolth wished them dead as a potential enemy as well.

“No one else but priestess can summon a spider demon!”

“Someone else has done it, your worshipfulness. Someone who wishes to kill you.”

That meant little to Lolth as a clue. Everyone wanted her dead.

“So why hasn’t she gone insane?” she wondered aloud. “All driders go insane!”

“Up until now, all driders have been drow. They are already of a malignant mind. Yet a light elf is not. It will affect her, yes. But even a drow, properly trained, can resist its demon. You cannot depend upon her, as a light elf, to go insane.”

“Just the loneliness will drive her mad!”

“Not when she has friends.”

That struck a raw nerve. “Enough! Which is why I must kill her before she kills me!” Lolth seethed. “It is why I send the man-orcs after her now before she escapes to the surface! Once she reaches the surface, how can I find her?”

“You can’t.”

“So I must kill her now.” Lolth confirmed her beliefs. “And while I do, find me whoever summoned that demon! I want to deal with them personally.”

Shinayne lingered with Graybeard after their meeting, wishing to speak with him alone.

“Do you feel the elf you call Ronthiel?” she asked him.

“I do. I feel him stronger than ever,” he answered. “Why?”

“I fear there is a reason for that. The elf has twice survived poison, including Lolth’s kiss.”

“Yes. I know. How did he do that?”

“He shouldn't. I fear the boy's drider shared her blood with him.”

A unexpected look came to old keeper's face. This was serious news. “She didn’t?”

“How else can he be alive?”

Graybeard grew troubled at the thought. “I know nothing about these dark arts of mixing black blood with red. It is forbidden. What will it do to him?”

“I don’t know. My knowledge is little greater than yours. Black blood hunts red blood. And mixed blood still desires red. And though he may only have a single drop of it in him, it will still affect him. It already sharpens his vision, and makes him more acutely aware. It's why you feel him so strongly because he feels so much more strongly. That drop of blood wants to keep him alive. It will do anything to do so. But as a full blooded light elf, it will affect him only half as much as it does her when she is only a half light elf.”

Uncertainty, like a dense fog, hung in the air between them, obscuring their path ahead.

“That may be in our favor," Graybeard finally stated. "For Leradien seems to handle it well.”

“Perhaps too well," shared Shinayne. “You're aware some drow have been trained to rule their demon?”

“You think that?” Graybeard considered that thought.

“I think it unlikely someone summoned her a black widow spider demon by mistake," she added.

"We shall see. Will you send out a patrol for Amien? I wish to be informed if he is alive.”

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