Jaleigh Johnson - Spider and Stone

Don’t lose him, Fizzri .

The hands turned to claws, poised to rend her flesh. The words were a sharp hiss, an inhuman sound that penetrated her deepest thoughts.…

Fizzri blinked and shook away the phantoms of her imagination. The scouts gazed at her expectantly. How long had she been lost in her own thoughts and fears? She fixed an impassive expression on her face and looked each of the scouts in the eye, but her strength again faltered when she noticed the empty place at the back of the room.

The scout leader, a male named Velzick, didn’t seem to notice her discomfort but continued to drone on endlessly about Iltkazar. “We can safely report that the city’s population is greatly diminished from what was once spoken of centuries ago,” he said. “Iltkazar is the shell of a dead empire. If not for the lingering strength of its defenses, we should have conquered it long ago. An assault will require careful planning and execution, but I’m confident we can take the city.”

He sounded eager, and why shouldn’t he? Iltkazar, with its vast, empty halls, cleared of dwarf vermin, was a territorial prize for Guallidurth. No doubt Velzick expected Fizzri to be exultant at her impending victory, but at that moment, she was hardly listening. Able to contain herself no longer, she blurted out, “Where is Zollgarza?”

The scouts exchanged glances, and Velzick stepped forward. “Mistress, the dwarf patrol we captured claimed that at least one of our own scouts was taken in fighting near the southern outposts. Zollgarza is the only one unaccounted for.”

Slowly Fizzri rose to her feet. She allowed her serpent, Ulgatta, to curl around her arm and rest its head against her inner wrist, where her pulse beat an erratic rhythm. Approaching the scout, she laid her hand against his cheek in a gesture as tender as it was threatening. She knew he could see the serpent hovering inches from his chin.

“You didn’t answer my question, Velzick,” she cooed. “Perhaps you’d like to try again.”

The scout looked down at Fizzri and said, “It’s possible Zollgarza has been captured by the dwarves of Iltkazar, Mistress.”

Mother Lolth, forgive. Forgive!

Outwardly she wore the impassive mask, but Fizzri wailed the prayer in her mind. Her goddess, however, kept silent. Fizzri fought against despair. Zollgarza missing, which meant the Arcane Script Sphere was still in their enemy’s hands as well. Two vital components lost. No! She would not let this happen.

Ulgatta seemed to sense her distress. Fizzri had given it no command, but the instinct to protect its mistress-instinct fueled by magic-took over, and the serpent’s tongue flicked out, making the barest contact with Velzick’s skin.

The warrior didn’t flinch, but under her hand, Fizzri felt the muscles rippling in his jaw. The reaction distracted her from her terror. It was exciting to watch the males struggle with their restraint, to hold themselves back from striking at their superiors.

“I see your thoughts, Velzick,” Fizzri whispered so only the scout and those standing nearest him heard. “As clearly as if I’d used magic to rip them from your mind, I see what you feel, what you want to do to me at this moment. Wouldn’t you like to be able to tell me?” She coaxed Ulgatta closer, so Velzick’s gaze involuntarily followed the serpent’s progress as it rode the back of the mistress mother’s hand. He swallowed but made no reply. “Think of it, Velzick,” she said, arousal stirring in her voice. “If you didn’t have to worry about risking your position in House Loor’Tchaan-if you didn’t have to curry my favor in the hope I might raise you higher than your fellows here … What would you do if you didn’t have those leashes to hold you back?”

He was trembling, but Velzick let the serpent glide within striking distance of his left eye. At her command, the snake would blind that eye in less than a breath. Fizzri used that thought to soothe herself, to calm the turmoil and uncertainty raging inside her.

Then, to her surprise, Velzick answered.

“Do what you will, Mistress,” he said, his normally deep, lilting voice hoarse. “I serve you to the death. I swear this on the knowledge that we are all the children of the Spider Queen.”

Oh, clever, sly tongue. Fizzri had to give him credit for his nerve.

Velzick’s response, made with such fervor and dignity in the face of the threat hovering in front of his eyes, could do nothing but honor the mistress mother. Yet Fizzri sensed the message hidden in the male’s words. She could read it in his eyes- our time is coming , his expression said, which only increased her inner struggle.

Her goddess remained silent to her pleas, but there was more in Fizzri’s thoughts than just Zollgarza’s fate. Were Fizzri and the other priestesses in Guallidurth prepared to bear the consequences of Lolth’s commands? They were the instruments of the Spider Queen’s will, but Lolth called out for magic, and it was the drow males who had answered, their time come at last to prove themselves worthy to their highest mistress and perhaps achieve an equality with the females.

Once Lolth ascended to become the new Goddess of Magic.

The vision and command from the goddess had come to drow cities throughout the Underdark. Gather and distill the essences of powerful arcane artifacts and transfer them to Lolth in dozens of sacred rituals conducted by wizards and priestesses working in tandem. The power generated would eventually allow the goddess to fashion the ultimate work of Art: the Demon Weave. When complete, it would replace even the memory of Mystra.

But at what cost? Surely Lolth would never forsake her favored daughters for arcane practitioners, for males . Let them serve their queen for now. Fizzri stroked Velzick’s cheek and slowly drew her hand away. Let them strengthen Lolth and bring glory to House Loor’Tchaan, but by the goddess, let us never allow them to forget that they are lesser in all other things, subject to the will of their mistresses. She formed the words as a second prayer to Lolth.

“Keep pressing the attacks on the dwarven outposts and maintain the reconnaissance patrols,” she commanded, raising her voice to address the whole room. “Zollgarza is missing. I want him found. We will assault the city within a tenday.” She ignored the confused murmurs that went through the group of scouts. An attack so soon gave them little time to prepare, but Fizzri didn’t concern herself about that. If Zollgarza was alive, then there was still a chance he would complete his mission and return to her. In that case, a direct attack on the city would not be necessary. But if he’d been captured, then she needed to get him back and retrieve the sphere. That was paramount.

If he was dead.…

No, she wouldn’t allow herself to think it. “Leave me,” she said, deliberately turning her back on Velzick while the scouts filed out of the temple. For a breath, she allowed herself to revel in his hatred and loathing for her, but when she was alone, Fizzri went to her private chamber.

She knelt before the altar, a polished slab of obsidian carved with prayers to Lolth. Fizzri had made most of the engravings herself from the time she was a novice. Two of the carved supplications had been made by other hands-a prayer for protection and a prayer for knowledge made by Fizzri’s first lover-long gone. Since then, the mistress mother had filled the symbols with her own blood, never letting anyone touch the altar, and now, without hesitation, she took up her ceremonial knife and put it to her flesh for another offering.

Letting the blood flow into the carvings, Fizzri recited the ceremonial words. “Always for you, Mother Lolth. My thoughts will find him. I will know if Zollgarza lives and if his task is yet undone.” On the heels of that prayer, she uttered a spell to link her awareness to Zollgarza.