d scarcely a harnotbinger of peril。
Waerva wiped sweat from her brow and scowled at her own jumpiness。 She had good reason to be edgy； though。 Everyone said it was suicide to travel the subterranean wilderness alone。
Sadly； thanks to the cursed goblin rebellion； she had little choice。 Benotcause of the desperate fighting all across the city； the clergy's incapacity was no great secret anymore。 Certainly Gromph had discerned it； which meant Triel no longer had anything to hide from him。 Surely； then； she would seek his counsel once more。
Waerva had been confident she could manipulate the frazzled matron mother； but she very much doubted she could fool the canny archmage。 Accordingly； she'd cleared out of the Great Mound and Menzoberranzan itself before her kinsman could start asking questions； and there she was； a solitary wayfarer hiking through a perilous wilderness。
But she was strong and cunning； and she'd survive。 She'd make her way to her secret allies； and everything would be all right。
She took four more strides； then heard another little sound； and this one wasn't falling water。 It sounded more like a stealthy footstep brushing stone； and it came from behind her。
She whirled and saw no one； then something stung her arm。 She pivnototed。 At her feet lay the pebble someone had thrown。 Soft； sibilant laughnotter rippled through the air。 From the sound of it； the merrymakers were all around her。
Why； then； couldn't she see them？
Adamantine mace at the ready； one wing of her piwafwi tossed back to facilitate the action of her weapon arm； Waerva advanced in the dinotrection from which the rock had e。 Weaving her way through the stalagmites； she reached the cavern wall without so much as glimpsing her attacker。 She caught a whiff of a familiar reptilian musk； though； and she knew。
Kobolds。 The horned； scaly undercreatures were small enough that it was relatively easy for them to hide amid the calcite bumps and spikes。
She turned once more； and despite herself； gave a start。 Evidently the kobolds lacked the patience to play their skulking game for very long； benotcause they were done hiding。 While her back was turned； they'd crept out into the open and there formed a ragged C…shaped line to pen her against the wall。
The brutes were Menzoberranyr thralls。 House brands and whip scars gave that fact away。 Indeed； a couple still wore broken shackles。 Waerva plainly wasn't the only one who'd fled the city。
She glared at the kobolds and said； 〃I'm a Baenre。 You know what that means。 Make way； or I'll strike you dead。〃
The undercreatures stared back at her for a moment； then lowered their eyes。 The line broke in the middle； making an exit。
Sneering； head held high； Waerva started for the opening。 For a moment； all was silent； then the reptiles laughed； screeched； and rushed her。
Bellowing a battle cry； she swung her mace； and every stroke smashed the life from a thrall。 But for every one she killed； there were dozens more hacking and beating at her legs。
Her knee screamed with pain； and she fell。 The kobolds swarmed over her and pounded her until she just couldn't struggle any more。
With some difficulty； they divested her of her armor and clothing； and went to work on her。 Amazingly for such a bestial race； they seemed to unnotderstand anatomy as thoroughly as her dear Tluth； but their ministrations were nothing like massage。
Faeryl had learned to court unconsciousness。 It brought surcease from the lingering pains of past tortures。 Unfortunately； it couldn't avert new ones。 When Jeggred found her so； he simply waved a bottle of pungent smelling salts beneath her nose until it jolted her awake。
She could hear him ing。 So could the jailers； who scurried to the back of the dungeon to give him privacy。 Shivering； she struggled to notpose herself。 Perhaps she could deny him the satisfaction of a scream…at least for a while…or even provoke him into killing her。 That would be wonderful。
The draegloth appeared in the doorway； stooping to pass through。 Denotspite herself； Faeryl flinched； then saw he was not alone。 Dainty little Triel acpanied him。 So did her harsh…featured brother； clad as usual in the Robes of the Archmage。
〃My 。 。 。 salutations； Matron；〃 the Zauvirr croaked。
〃Hush；〃 said Gromph； 〃and all will be well。〃 He looked up at the glownotering half…demon。 〃Free her； and be gentle about it。〃
Jeggred strode to Faeryl。 This time； she managed not to cringe。 The draegloth supported her weight with his smaller hands while cutting her bonds with the claws of the larger ones； then scooped her up in his arms。 She passed out。
Next came a blur of hours or days； during which she would wake for a few muddled seconds； then lapse into unconsciousness again。 She lay on a soft divan； where servants salved and bandaged her wounds and sometimes spooned broth into her mouth。 Priestesses read scrolls of healing； and Gromph appeared periodically to cast his own spells over her。 She noticed Mother's Kiss lying on a little table beside her； and when she felt strong enough； stretched out her trembling arm and touched it。
Finally she opened her eyes to find her thoughts clear and vitality tinnotgling in her limbs。 The servants helped her don new raiment。 They said it was for a meeting with Triel。
Faeryl considered taking her war hammer along； then thought better of it。 If her rehabilitation was an elaborate prank； if the Baenre was sumnotmoning her to further torment； the weapon wouldn't save her。
Her legs still the least bit unsteady； she followed a male through the endnotless corridors of the Great Mound。 Eventually he opened the door to a small but lavishly decorated room。
Tri