Elaine Cunningham: The Best of the Realms, Book I

"As have I," Liriel said frankly. "ButXandra explained it to me. She said that she could not initiate the rite until she had foundexactly the right quarry, one that would truly test my skills. Think of it! Agrand and gallant hunt-an adventure in the wild tunnels of the DarkDominion!" she exulted, flinging herself down on her cot with a gusty sighof satisfaction.

"Mistress Xandra," Bythnara coldly correctedher.

She knew, as did everyone in House Shobalar, thatLiriel Baenre was to be treated with utmost respect, but even the archmage'sdaughter was required to observe certain protocols.

"Mistress Xandra," the girl echoedobligingly. She rolled over onto her stomach and propped up her chin in bothhands. "I wonder what I shall hunt," she said in a dreamy tone. "Thereare so many wondrous and fearsome beasts roaming the World Above. I have beenreading about them," she confided with a grin. "Maybe a great wildcat with a black-and-gold striped pelt, or a huge brown bear-which is ratherlike a four-legged quaggoth. Or even a fire-belching dragon!" sheconcluded, giggling a bit at her own absurdity.

"We can only hope," Bythnara muttered.

If Liriel heard her chambermate's bitter comment, shegave no indication.

"Whatever the quarry, I shall meet it with equalforce," she vowed. "I will use weapons that correspond to its naturalattacks and defenses: dagger against claw, arrow against stooping attack. Nofireballs, no venom clouds, no transforming it into an ebony statue. ."

"You know that spell?" the Shobalardemanded, her face and voice utterly aghast.

It was a casting that required considerable power, anirreversible transformation, and a favorite punitive tool of the Baenrepriestesses who ruled in the Academy. The possibility that the impulsive childcould wield such a spell was appalling, considering that Bythnara had insultedthe Baenre girl twice since she'd entered the room. By the standards ofMenzoberranzan, that was more than ample justification for such retribution.

But Liriel merely tossed her chambermate a mischievousgrin. The older wizard sniffed and turned away. She had known Liriel for twelveyears, but she had never reconciled herself to the girl's good-naturedteasing.

Liriel loved to laugh, and she loved to have otherslaugh with her. Since few drow shared her particular brand of humor, she hadrecently taken to playing little pranks for the amusement of the otherstudents.

Bythnara had never been the recipient of those, butneither did she find them particularly enjoyable. Life was a grim, seriousbusiness, and magic an Art to be mastered, not a child's plaything. The factthat that particular "child" possessed a command of magic greaterthan her own rankled deeply with the proud female.

Nor was that the only thing stoking Bythnara's jealouslyMistress Xandra, Bythnara's own mother, had always showed special favor to theBaenre girl-favor that often bordered on affection. That, Bythnara would neverforget, and never forgive. Neither was she pleased by the fact that her ownmale companions had a hard time remembering their place and their purpose wheneverthe golden-eyed wench was about.

Bythnara was twenty-eight and in ripe early adolescence.Liriel was in many ways still a child. Even so, there was more than enoughpromise in the girl's face and form to draw masculine eyes. Rumor had it thatLiriel was beginning to return those attentions, and that she reveled in suchsport with her characteristic, playful abandon. That, too, Bythnara disapprovedof, though exactly why that was, she could not say.

"Will you come to my coming-of-ageceremony?" Liriel asked with a touch of wistfulness in her voice."After the ritual, I mean."

"Of course. It is required."

Bythnara's curt remark finally earned a response-analmost imperceptible wince. But Liriel recovered quickly, so quickly that theolder female barely had time to enjoy her victory. A shuttered expression cameover the Baenre girl's face, and she lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug.

"So it is," she said evenly. "I faintlyremember that I was required to attend yours, several years back. What was yourquarry?"

"A goblin," Bythnara said stiffly.

It was a sore spot with her, for goblins were as arule accounted neither intelligent nor particularly dangerous. She haddispatched the creature easily enough with a spell of holding and a sharpknife. Her own Blooding had been mere routine, not the grand adventure of whichLiriel dreamed.

Grand adventure, indeed! The girl was impossiblynaive!

Or was she? With a sudden jolt, it occurred to Bythnarathat Liriel's last question had hardly been ingenuous. Few verbal thrustscould have hit the mark more squarely. Her eyes settled on the girl andnarrowed dangerously.

Again Liriel shrugged.

"What was it that Matron Hinkutes'nat said inchapel a darkcycle or two past? 'The drow culture is one of constant change,and so we must either adapt or die.' "

Her tone was light, and there was nothing in her faceor her words that could give Bythnara reasonable cause for complaint. YetLiriel was clearly, subtly, giving notice that she had long been aware ofBythnara's verbal thrusts, and that henceforth she would not take them insilence, but parry and riposte.

It was well done; Bythnara had to admit that. Shefound herself at a complete and disconcerting lack for words.

A tentative knock on the open door relieved Bythnaraof the need to respond.

She turned to face one of her mother's servants, ahighly decorative young drow male discarded by some lesser house. Inperfunctory fashion, he offered the required bow to the Shobalar female, andturned his attention upon the younger girl.

"You are wanted, Princess," the male said,addressing Liriel by the proper formal title for a young female of the FirstHouse.

Later, the girl would no doubt be accorded more prestigioustitles: Archmage, if Xandra had her way, or Mistress of Sorcere, or Mistress ofthe Academy, or even-Lolth forbid-Matron Mother. Princess was a title of birth,not accomplishment. Even so, Bythnara begrudged it. She hustled the royal bratand the handsome messenger out of her room with scant ceremony and closed thedoor firmly behind them.

Liriel's shoulders rose and fell in a long sigh. Theservant, who was about her own age and who knew Bythnara far better than hecared to, cast her a look that bordered on sympathy.

"What does Xandra want now?" she asked asthey made their way toward the apartment that housed the mistress of magic.

The servant cast furtive glances up and down the corridorsbefore answering, "The archmage sent for you. His servant awaits you inMistress Xandra's chambers even now."

Liriel stopped in mid stride.

"My father?"

"Gromph Baenre, Archmage of Menzoberranzan,"the male affirmed.

Once again Liriel reached for "the mask"-herprivate term for the expression she had practiced and perfected in front of herlooking glass: the insouciant little smile, eyes that expressed nothing but abit of cynical amusement. Yet behind her flippant facade, the girl's mindwhirled with a thousand questions.

Drow life was full of complexities and contradictions,but in Liriel's experience, nothing was more complicated than her feelings forher drow sire. She revered and resented and adored and feared and hated andlonged for her father-all at once, and all from a distance. And as far asLiriel could tell, every one of those emotions was entirely unrequited. Thegreat Archmage of Menzoberranzan was an utter mystery to her.

Gromph Baenre was without question her true sire, butdrow lineage was traced through the females. The archmage had gone againstcustom and adopted his daughter into the Baenre clan-at great personal costto Liriel-and promptly abandoned her to the Shobalars' care.

What could Gromph Baenre want of her? It had beenyears since she had heard from him, though his servants regularly saw that theShobalars were recompensed for her keep and training and ensured that she hadpocket coin to spend at her infrequent outings to the Bazaar. In Liriel'sopinion, the personal summons could only mean trouble. Yet what had she done?Or, more to the point, which of her escapades had been discovered and reported?