R.A. Salvatore's War of the Spider Queen: Dissolution, Insurrection, Condemnation (83 page)

“Yes,” Quenthel concurred. “This will get worse, much worse. Everyone stay alert. Master Argith, give the two of them their weapons,” she said, gesturing toward Halisstra and Danifae. “I think they’ve earned the right to bear them after getting us out of that deathtrap.”

The weapons master pulled a black circle of cloth from a pocket of his
piwafwi,
unfolded it, and threw it down upon the stone paving of the plaza. It transformed into a perfectly round hole, large enough for him to reach into. He began rummaging around inside it.

“I think our return to the inn will have to wait for later,” Valas said, pointing. “We’re not in the clear yet.”

When Pharaun turned his gaze toward where the scout indicated, he groaned. Scores of gray dwarves were advancing in a line toward them from out of the smoke, faces grim, crossbows and axes brandished. Their front rank had formed a shield wall, while the second row prepared to fire missile weapons. They were mere yards away.

“Look out!” Halisstra cried, pointing in the opposite direction with the mace Ryld had just handed to her.

A host of drow soldiers and priestesses appeared out of the thick smoke, surging forward to meet the duergar head on.

When the fiery, smoke-choked estate finally ripped loose from the web street and tumbled into the vast depths of the city below, Aliisza looked on with a mixture of fascination and disappointment. She was certain the wizard was lost to her, yet she marveled at the capacity for destruction the drow displayed. They were tearing apart their own city, with the capable help of several other species. She wondered what any of them hoped to gain from it, but she didn’t really care. She was just sorry she couldn’t enjoy any more flings with the mage.

With her consort dead, the alu prepared to make her way out of the city. She had no more cause to be there, and delaying her departure any longer would only place her at risk, however slight. She would rather not have to confront a host of drow or duergar, and she certainly didn’t relish the thought of large amounts of stonework falling on her.

Before she could follow through on her intentions to leave, though, Aliisza spied movement a little way down from where the palatial abode had been but moments before. She wasn’t sure, for the air in the vicinity was choked with smoke and dust, but she thought—

There. Something was definitely hovering in the air, a wretched creature the fiend knew well enough—a bird-woman known as a harpy—and it had company, a second form gripped in its talons. The pair of them hovered in mid-air, struggling to stay aloft, and the harpy veered up and to the side, bearing its cargo with it.

As Aliisza followed the pair’s progress, she caught more movement out of the corner of her eye and realized the harpy and the drow clinging to it were being followed. It was the wizard’s companions.

The alu found herself laughing, realizing that Pharaun must be the harpy in a transmuted state, no doubt one of his many spells. He really was an impressive mage, she thought. Somehow, some way, the entire group had managed to free themselves from the building just before it collapsed and vanished into the bottom of the cavern, and along the way, they had picked up two additional members.

Aliisza moved cautiously closer, wanting to get a better look without being seen, and when she did, her eyes narrowed. That wretch Pharaun had rescued some tart, a beautiful drow who, despite her current disheveled look, was obviously a lovely catch for the wizard. Even as she watched, the mage transformed back into his natural form, collapsing beside the female, giving her the eye even as he caught his breath.

Aliisza was furious, watching the mage ogle the drow. She would tear that trollop’s eyes out herself! She would—!

Shaking with anger, she prepared to swoop in and make good on her silent threats, but the rest of the group settled around the pair. Clenching her fists in fury, Aliisza restrained herself, but she wanted to know what was going on. Quickly, she cast a spell and began to magically eavesdrop on their conversation.

—must see if we can salvage our other supplies back at the inn.

Then let’s go quickly,
she heard Pharaun say.
We don’t want to remain here for any longer than we have to, I think.

Grinning, Aliisza ended the spell and flew off, still careful to avoid drawing attention. She had an idea forming, and she was pleased with herself for thinking of it.

“Get off this street!” Ryld urged, pointing to a smaller thoroughfare that ran past a temple off to one side where they might avoid the worst of the clash. “Hurry!” the warrior commanded, sprinting toward the side street.

Pharaun heard the call of his friend and tried to turn and scramble toward the side street that Ryld had indicated, but the wizard wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the press of drow streaming past him. Instead, he was buffeted along for several feet in the opposite direction before he finally managed to slip off to the side, taking refuge against a set of large stone stairs leading up to some immense public building. A moment later, Danifae staggered alongside him, dropping to her knees and panting for breath.

“Where are the others?” the wizard asked her, admiring her curves even as the battle raged around them.

“Don’t know,” she gasped. “Were . . . right behind me.”

“We can’t stay here,” Pharaun told her.

He began to look around for a better vantage point upon which to watch for his companions without being in the midst of the fighting.

The battle was raging in the plaza where Pharaun and the others had become separated. A duergar stepped up to the pair of them, smiled maliciously, and raised a spiked warhammer to strike at the mage. Danifae was too quick, though, jerking her morning star around and into the gray dwarf ’s midsection. The stout creature gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and Pharaun took advantage of the delay to cast a spell. A wide but thin fan of flame sprang from the wizard’s fingertips and caught the humanoid squarely across the face. The duergar shrieked and staggered backward, flailing at his burning beard. Others in the crowd shifted and moved to avoid coming into contact with the blazing creature, and finally the duergar fell off-balance and collapsed, unmoving, to the paved street.

“Come on,” Pharaun insisted, taking Danifae by the hand and leading her, still limping from her ordeal back in the collapsing House, up the stairs to the top of the landing.

A pair of gray dwarves started to follow the two of them then stopped about halfway up, aiming loaded crossbows. Pharaun spun away and yanked his
piwafwi
’s hood around him, using the cloak to shield both himself and Danifae. Two bolts smacked into the center of his back, giving him a vicious sting.

He cried out from the pain, sinking down to one knee. Angrily freeing his magical rapier, Pharaun turned back to face the pair of duergar, mentally directing the dancing weapon toward them. The wizard managed to engage the first gray dwarf, but the second one scrambled past the enchanted weapon and clambered up the steps toward him.

A blur of fur and claws landed on the steps between the mage and his foe, and Jeggred sliced and gashed at the duergar, spraying gouts of blood in every direction. The humanoid staggered back from the draegloth’s onslaught, his arms held up defensively as he was cut down. When the first gray dwarf saw the fate of his companion, he backed down the steps and fled into the swirling maelstrom of skirmishing below.

“Stay here,” Jeggred said, bounding back down into the crowd. “I will get the others.”

Pharaun considered whether to obey the draegloth or ignore the beast. He would be much happier, he decided, if he could get up on top of the building, but he knew that Danifae was unable to follow him, should he choose to levitate there. He decided to await the return of Quenthel’s pet.

“Back in here,” he said to Danifae, stepping into the deeper darkness of the entryway and pulling her in after him.

From there, they could watch the street below without being so exposed.

Danifae pressed against Pharaun, trying to remain out of sight, but the effect was very distracting. The mage found himself pressing right back, while at the same time wondering how he could be so easily diverted during such a time.

It’s not like you’ve never enjoyed the feel of the flesh before, he chided himself.

Still, he was glad that she lingered there, though whether her contact with him was purely happenstance or calculated, he wasn’t sure.

The two of them did not have to wait long. Jeggred reappeared after a couple of moments, with Quenthel right behind him. Jeggred cut a swath through the crowd with his oversized claws, while the drow protected the fiend’s back. As the duo forced their way through the throngs, more than a few fell before the draegloth’s fierce strikes. Finally, they reached the stairs and hurried up to the landing.

“We’re here,” Pharaun said, gesturing for Quenthel and Jeggred to join him. “We’ve got to get to the roof,” he said, pointing over their heads. “We can see much better from up there, and stay out of the fray.”

Jeggred nodded and grabbed Danifae. Together, they began to levitate upward, reaching a spot on the roof that overlooked the sea of clashing bodies below. Pharaun and Quenthel followed quickly. The four of them settled down atop the rounded surface and dropped low, wanting to avoid creating too large a profile against the backdrop of the city. Pharaun did a careful inspection of the city streets one level up, trying to ascertain whether or not they’d been noticed from there. It appeared that they had not.

“Do you see them?” Quenthel asked no one in particular, and Pharaun returned his attention to the scene below.

The battle still raged, but it was beginning to thin somewhat as the body count grew.

“Nothing,” the Master of Sorcere replied, and Danifae also shook her head.

“The warrior went running that way,” the battle captive said, pointing toward a side street on the opposite side of the square. “I think Halisstra followed him.”

“Yes, I heard him,” Pharaun replied. “I tried to get there, but the surge was too much. When the fighting dies down, we can try to reach them.”

“What about Valas?” Quenthel said. “What happened to him?”

Pharaun replied, “I don’t know, but he can disappear even when you’re looking right at him, so I don’t think he’s in much danger. He’ll show up when we need him most.”

By this time, the duergar were beginning to overwhelm the force of dark elves, and when reinforcements for the gray dwarves arrived, what was left of the drow turned and fled. Pharaun watched, hoping the throng of duergar would give chase, but they seemed content to hold up and regroup.

That’s when everything went wrong.

Five or six crossbow bolts snapped against the roof next to the wizard, and a couple of them actually struck him in the back. Only the enchantments of his
piwafwi
protected him, but he was getting damned tired of being hit. Danifae was not so lucky. One of the bolts speared her through the calf, and she growled in pain as Pharaun leaped up to shield her with his own body.

A burst of flame and light exploded only a few feet to the wizard’s right. Fire swept over the surface of the roof where they crouched as a second and a third burst landed near the first. The wizard flinched, then turned to see where the new attack was coming from. What he saw made his heart sink. The attackers, whom Pharaun could see were more gray dwarves, were perched atop a web street one level above them and near the back line of the roof. They hurled more firepots in the drow’s direction, and Jeggred roared in anger, hit by one of the incendiary pots.

“Damn it, Pharaun, you’ve led us into a crossfire!” Quenthel snarled at the mage. “We’ve got to get off this roof. Jeggred, shield me.”

Quenthel turned to peer over the side, and Jeggred positioned himself to shield the three drow with his body as best he could. Part of his fur was smoking, but the draegloth didn’t seem to notice.

“We can not stand here,” he said.

“I know,” Pharaun responded, examining the bolt wound in Danifae’s leg more carefully.

It had struck the same leg that was already injured but didn’t appear bad, having missed the bone and penetrated only the fleshy part of her calf. He snapped off what he could, and the battle captive gave a slight jerk.

Quenthel made a disgusted sound, pulling back from the edge.

“All of this commotion has attracted their attention below us,” Quenthel said in a harsh tone. “We can’t go that way.”

“Then we’ll go over the other side,” the wizard replied.

He shoved what was left of the bolt through Danifae’s leg and out. She hissed from the sudden pain, but bit her lip and stifled any more sounds. More crossbow bolts and firepots were smacking down against the stone around them.

“Is it poisoned?” Pharaun asked the high priestess.

In answer, one of the viper heads on Quenthel’s whip rose up and hissed, “No.”

More of the firepots slammed down nearby, adding to the roar of the fire, which was hot and spreading across the rock surface of the building.

“We’ll be roasted rothé meat in a moment,” the mage said. “Heal her so we can go!”

“Forget her,” Quenthel replied. “Come on.”

The Mistress of the Academy stood and moved toward the back of the building, still skulking behind the draegloth.

Pharaun looked back down at Danifae, shrugged, and began to stand. The female reached up and grabbed him by the
piwafwi,
a determined look on her face.

“Don’t leave me here,” she said. “I can walk. Just help me up.”

Another pair of explosions erupted near her head, and she flinched forward as Pharaun took hold of her by the hand and hauled her to her feet.

“You won’t regret it,” she said, giving the wizard a brief but obvious look. “I’ll be worth it.”

Limping, blood flowing from the puncture, Danifae began to follow Quenthel and the draegloth.

“Jeggred!” she called. “Carry me!”

Pharaun realized his mouth was hanging open, and he snapped it shut. As he trotted after the battle captive, he saw Quenthel and the draegloth freeze, and he swept his gaze to where they were looking, at the back side of the building. Rising up from behind the roofline was an immense, chitinous leg of something all too familiar. The leg sought footing upon the rooftop, and two more appeared, followed by the head of a spider of massive size.