Chapter 96: The Poison Snake and the Blade

“I’ve been feeling something wrong.”

Dilan gestured with both hands and, with concern and doubt in his movements, silently reported to the dark elf priestess at his side—his sister Lisa.

“I keep feeling as if something is tracking us,” he signed. “It makes me uneasy, sister. Are you certain there is no problem on this route?”

“Absurd, Dilan.”

Lisa shot him a hard glance and, with an arrogant flash in her eyes, quickly signed back.

“With the blessing of the Great Spider Goddess, no one can detect our trail. And is that not your duty, as well as that of your subordinates? If trouble reaches us through your negligent watch, Mistress Barisha would gladly pluck out your heart and offer it to the Spider Queen!”

“My devotion to the Goddess has never wavered!”

Seeing Lisa’s answer, Dilan’s face tightened, then he strengthened his signs again.

“But sister, you know we are only warriors, not priests and not mages. Our blades can pierce the throats of any beast that dares stand before or behind us, but they cannot reach the unseen magic hidden in the dark. If someone were to probe us with sorcery, we might never sense it.”

“Nonsense.”

Lisa looked down on her brother’s judgment. Dark elves possessed formidable resistance to magic, and even spells below fourth circle were nearly harmless to them. Powerful mages might of course exist among enemies, but this was gray dwarf territory; everyone in the Underdark knew how utterly incompatible gray magic was with them. If this were the land of the mind devourers, matters would be far different. The octopus-headed ones had mastery over mind powers so horrifying it made one’s skin crawl; even someone with confidence would not dare approach that cursed place.

Precisely for that reason, Lisa could not tolerate her brother’s show of weakness.

“I have performed divination and confirmed there is no one tracking us nearby. You may rest easy. And if you still cannot trust that, you can search for yourself.”

Hearing Lisa’s response, Dilan frowned. He knew his sister better than anyone. Yet he felt inexplicably uneasy. As the clan’s martial master and a warrior seasoned by many campaigns, he felt that these last days were all wrong. His hard-forged instinct warned him danger was closing in; at times, Dilan felt watched. The worst part was that the gaze came from everywhere, not from one source. Sometimes he felt less as though he were traveling in the depths and more as if he stood in the center of a gladiatorial pit in Mazoblaes, where eyes from every side fixed on him. That feeling gnawed at him. What could he do, though, being only a man, only a fighter?

Yet this warning was unlike any other. There was nothing visible around them, and still his heart raced unnaturally fast. It reminded him of the gladiatorial slaves: the defeated ones were herded into pens and fed to beasts. He had once admired how the lesser creatures trembled in terror at the sight, but now that same fear settled on him. It was no longer entertaining.

“Sister, this time truly is different.”

He swallowed hard and forced himself to continue. His instinct had always been true—he had risen to be head of arms in the first family because it saved him again and again at critical moments. The warning within him was too strong to dismiss as delusion. And when even his high priestess sister found no sign of danger, it only deepened his dread. He would rather be scolded for this than ignore it.

Seeing Dilan still pestering her, Lisa’s expression darkened at once. In dark elf society, the old matriarchal order held hard. Even then, a high priestess being questioned repeatedly by a male was extraordinary insolence. She reached for her waist, trying to draw her seven-headed serpent whip, ready to give her brother a lesson he would never forget.

Before she could act, another dark elf woman stepped between them.

“I think you should listen to him,” she said, calm-faced, her hands moving in swift signs to soothe Lisa’s rising fury.

“This mission cannot be bungled. We must act with care. Do not forget: the Spider Queen has no pity for failure. We must ensure it cannot fail.”

Though offended by her tone, Lisa had to admit she was right. A dark elf clan’s might came entirely from Lady Rosse’s favor; one could imagine the fate of a family that lost such favor. Seeing Lisa soften, the other priestess exhaled in relief and turned to Dilan, signaled rapidly.

“I, too, have performed divination. At least in this area we found nothing.”

She only said that, yet Dilan understood. He still clenched his jaw and, with quick caution, signaled both of them.

“We could beg for the Spider Queen’s guidance…”

But before he finished, five or six coiling snake heads lunged at him.

As master of arms, Dilan had enough strength and reflex to dodge. Yet he stood still, letting the serpents’ whip strike his face and knock him heavily to the ground. In the next instant, before he could say more, Lisa reached him and seized his throat.

“You, only a man, and you dare to seek the Spider Queen’s favor?”

At that moment Lisa was beyond herself, crying out in outrage despite the law that outside, dark elves spoke only by gesture.

“Even entertaining that thought is the greatest blasphemy against the Goddess! You fool! Even we would not dare such a thing. For your stupid, cloudy misgiving, you would pray for divine guidance?”

Dilan stared at the snake heads before him, mouth open. Their mouths were unhinged in threat, toxic fangs bared in contempt. He did not doubt that the next instant they would bite and flood his flesh with fatal venom until he was dead.

“A sensible man should know his limits.”

Lisa fixed him with a cold stare.

“Mistress Sinafi will not care if a son lives or dies, and you…”

She hesitated, deciding whether to kill her brother now or merely teach him a lasting lesson.

Just then, she did not need to decide. A sharp whistling shriek came from overhead, and all the dark elves raised their heads in startled silence.

BOOM.

The explosion came next, with blazing light rending the dark and a violent blast of air swallowing them in an instant.

Lisa released Dilan’s throat and bent low, one hand flying to her eyes. Drow were weakest before bright light; the flash of lightning was hard enough for even surface dwellers to endure, never mind those born in the dark. At their greatest sensitivity to sound and brilliance, they stood dazed as thunder rolled through the cave, a single roar that filled their ears, while their vision washed white.

Dilan did no better. By luck he had closed his eyes when Lisa struck him, sparing him the worst of the glare. Still, the thunderous crash made his hands and legs go weak. He opened his mouth in great gasps, trying to quiet the pounding of his heart. With his longsword in hand, he looked about in confusion. The dark elf patrol had collapsed into a useless jumble of men pinned to the ground, unable to fight. Before him, the other high priestess lay on the floor, eyes blank, mouth open, filthy blood spurting out.

It was clear she was dead.

One assault—an attack on a dark elf patrol.

It was by dint of countless assassination-laden lessons that Dilan had avoided the strike from behind. He dragged himself across the ground, rolling and writhing, away from the whistling sweep of a tail-blade. The sharpened whip did not find him; it drove itself into the earth, shattering a slab of stone.

What in the hells was that monster!

Before him loomed a vast black shadow, silent and sudden. In Mazoblaes he had seen many strange, terrible creatures, but none more terrifying than this. It had no eyes, yet he could feel it watching him, its sight locking onto him from every side. He knew he could not evade the next attack.

With no further thought, the dark elf weapons master hurled his longsword at the thing and then turned and ran. His sister, that patrol, this mission—none of it held meaning now.

Even as he turned, an immense force crushed him down. By the time he felt icy, rending pain tear through his heart, Dilan had fallen to the ground and gone still forever.