Jaleigh Johnson - Spider and Stone

Icelin stepped forward, addressing the king. “None of the drow know your secret, do they?”

“Not from what I’ve gathered from Zollgarza’s mind,” Mith Barak said. “What are you getting at?”

Joya raised an eyebrow. “I think she’s suggesting you meet the drow as you truly are.”

“As a dragon?” Sull whistled. “That’ll surprise them. You can be sure of that. What’ll your people think, though?”

“They’ll think their king is willing to do whatever it takes to save his people,” Ruen said. “Even reveal a secret that makes him vulnerable.”

Garn shook his head. “We’d never ask him to take such a risk.”

“And why not?” Mith Barak said sharply. “Earlier you said my people have shed blood for me, and you were right. How can I do less?”

Icelin nodded. “And while you fight, I’ll strip away the magic that cloaks Zollgarza.”

“No,” Mith Barak said immediately. “It’s too late anyway. There’s no time to find the sphere.”

“But I think I know where it is,” Icelin said.

“Where?” Mith Barak asked, sounding skeptical.

Icelin shook her head. “I want to be sure. I need to go to the library to speak with the seneschal.”

“Lass, are you sure about this?” Sull asked.

Icelin nodded. “Yes. I’m doing this because-” but she couldn’t finish. Her throat closed around the words.

“Because Iltkazar isn’t dead yet,” Ruen said. “The city can still be saved.”

“The city will be saved,” the king said, looking at Icelin. He nodded, as if coming to a decision. “Joya, Garn, Obrin-bring the master armswoman, the warmaster, and the regency council here. We have a lot to talk about and little time to do it. I want our scouts recalled as soon as possible. Collect all their information, their best guesses as to the strength of the drow force and where they’ll hit the city’s defenses first.”

“They won’t attack the doors,” Obrin said. “That much we know. They’ll hit us at our weakest points along the wall and try to breach it.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Mith Barak said, nodding. He pointed at Icelin. “Take yourself and your men to the library, but wait for me outside the doors. Do you hear? Don’t go in to Zollgarza unless I’m there with you. Whatever happens, I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

“You’re needed with your army,” Icelin protested. “I can do this-”

“You forget you’re arguing with a king,” Mith Barak said, “and a dragon. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that that’s not a wise thing to do?” His voice held a trace of humor, but his eyes were hard. “We do this my way or not at all, understand?”

Icelin nodded and bowed. “As you say, my king.”

Around her, the others bowed as well, and a chorus of “my king” echoed in the vast hall.

ILTKAZAR, THE UNDERDARK

28 UKTAR

Icelin waited with Ruen and Sull outside the library doors. Nerves tossed about in her stomach, making her fidget and pace, until finally Ruen drew her near him and held both of her hands in his.

“You don’t have to do this,” he reminded her. “You can change your mind.”

“I’m not afraid for myself,” Icelin said. She squeezed his hand. “But I spoke for both of us back there. I never asked if … if you could accept it, if the worst happened.”

Ruen looked at their joined hands. “My scar makes me confront death-the thing I most want to deny. That being said, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure the worst doesn’t happen,” Ruen said firmly. “Do you have a plan?”

Icelin smiled crookedly at him. “Don’t I always have a plan?”

Ruen and Sull shared a groan. “Aye, but sometimes they’re lackin’ in wisdom,” Sull muttered.

Icelin made a face at him. “It’s the seneschal. I think she knows where the sphere is, she just doesn’t know that she knows.”

“Now I’m confused,” Sull said.

“Just trust me,” Icelin told him.

The door to the plaza opened, and Mith Barak and an escort of guards came down the hallway to meet them. Mith Barak’s eyes gleamed with an eager light. Color suffused his face, and everything about his movements suggested new life. Icelin wondered how much of his energy was a mask he wore for his people’s sake. They and she would likely never know what this cost him.

“Are you ready?” the king asked, pulling Icelin from her thoughts.

“I’m ready.”

Zollgarza sat in his customary place by the fire when they entered. When he saw them, he stood, putting his back to the wall as if expecting an attack. Icelin ignored him and called to the empty air. “Seneschal?”

The dwarf woman appeared at her elbow, making Icelin jump. “I am here.”

“I’ve come for the sphere.” Icelin was aware of a palpable tension in the room as the others, even Zollgarza, waited to hear the dwarf woman’s reply.

“I do not know where the sphere is,” the seneschal said sadly. “If I knew-”

“You said that you have access to-that you are -all the books in the library,” Icelin interrupted. “But you also said there was one tome about the Arcane Script Sphere you were forbidden to share. What tome is that?”

“It is forbidden,” the seneschal said. “I’m sorry.”

“Call forth the tome,” Mith Barak commanded her. “You have my permission.”

“I …” Confusion passed over the seneschal’s face. “I … cannot.”

“You can’t because the artifact is inside of you,” Icelin said, grateful that her hunch had proved correct. “It made itself a part of you, just like all the ancient tomes in this room, but it did so to hide.” Behind her, Mith Barak let out a breath. “I don’t know if I’m worthy to wield the Silver Fire or not,” Icelin rushed on, addressing the seneschal and the sphere. “But I want to help Iltkazar. Please, let me help the city.”

The seneschal’s ghostly form wavered, and Icelin thought she was going to disappear. Then Icelin was staring at a tiny silver sphere hovering in the air in front of her, no bigger than a pea. Miniscule letters scrawled across its surface, but they were indiscernible to Icelin’s eyes. Despite its size, when Icelin beheld the sphere, her heart raced with excitement.

Then it began to grow.

The sphere expanded, spinning as it swelled to three, four, then ten times its original size. Transfixed, Icelin watched as the writing on the artifact’s surface sprang into focus. Spells revealed themselves, the incantations graceful, elegant, and unfamiliar, the spells of a lost goddess.

“Written by Mystra herself,” Icelin whispered. A prickling sensation touched the back of her neck.

Out of the corner of her eye, Icelin saw Zollgarza moving toward her, faster than Ruen, faster than she thought possible for anyone to move.

Without thinking, Icelin grabbed the sphere in her two hands and called Mystra’s name in her mind.

Zollgarza charged her, hands reaching for the sphere, but Ruen was suddenly between them, and the two men slammed into each other. Zollgarza howled, grasping for Ruen’s dagger. Ruen twisted out of the drow’s grasp and pinned Zollgarza’s arms behind his back.

The sphere warmed in Icelin’s hands. Tendrils of silver radiance swirled from it and closed the space between her and Zollgarza. The energy enveloped the drow, and distantly, she heard him scream again.

Mystra, Icelin prayed silently, may your memory protect us now.

Her stomach clenched, and a familiar sickness took hold of her. The Silver Fire swelled, and Zollgarza’s mind opened to her in a rush. Images-an audience chamber where a drow female sat, then a gathering of drow prepared to go to war. She saw a temple made of crystal spider webs, beautiful and cold, where whispers drifted from the shadows.