Insurrection

«Get back!» Pharaun yelled. «I don't know what kind of backlash this will create.»

There was more popping from the structure of the House— closer, the sounds deafening—and Halisstra found she had her hands over her ears. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

We're going to die in here, she thought. The whole house is falling apart, and we're going to be crushed.

The magical fist lurched forward and slammed into the wall between the armoires, smacking against the stone with a powerful crunch. The wall cracked in several places. Pharaun directed the fist to back up and go again.

Quenthel was beside Halisstra, grabbing her by the arm.

«When he gets that wall down,» the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith said, «we will need to hurry. What's the fastest way out of here?»

Halisstra looked at the other drow helplessly.

«We're in the very heart of the House,» she answered. «The most protected point. It'll take us forever to get out, no matter which way we go.»

Quenthel scowled, but then she nodded and moved away.

The giant fist had slammed into the wall two or three more times, and the wall was about to collapse.

One more blow should do it, Halisstra thought as she felt the concussions of more cracking and breaking beyond the room. If it's not too late already, she added to herself.

Around Halisstra, the others were wide-eyed, trying to maintain their balance and eyeing the walls, ceiling, and floor warily.

The next slam of the fist finally did the section of wall in, and it collapsed in a pile of rubble. Behind it, a small chamber sat dark and dusty, filled with shelves containing a number of items Halisstra had never seen before. Quenthel pushed ahead of everyone else and strode—or rather hiked, for it was like walking up a hillside—into the chamber, snatching up a five-headed snake whip with a gleam in her eye.

«Yes!» was all she said as she held the weapon aloft, the five vipers hissing and writhing joyously.

Quickly, Quenthel gathered up several other items that obviously belonged to her then eyed the other things displayed on the shelves.

«No time,» Pharaun insisted. «We leave now!» Turning to Halisstra, the wizard demanded, «Which way is out? Get us there, before the whole place falls!»

Halisstra shook her head miserably.

«We're as far away from the exits as we can be!» she shouted over the cacophony of popping, shattering stone. The room lurched again. «There's no close way out!»

«Then I'll make one,» Pharaun shouted. «Which direction is closest to the outside?»

Part of the ceiling on the far side of the room collapsed, sending a shower of stone fragments and dust into Halisstra's face. She covered her nose and mouth with one hand as she flung her arm up to shield her eyes from the stinging shards of rock that pelted her. She couldn't think. She was going to die. There was no way out, no escape—and no Lolth.

Halisstra felt the wizard's hands grasp her arms.

«Tell me,» he shouted, «which way is the closest way to the outside, regardless of walls?»

Halisstra shook her head, trying to focus despite the panic rising in her chest. She spied Danifae clinging to Quenthel as both of them held on to the edge of the broken wall leading into the secret room. Jeggred had his claws embedded in the rock of the floor and was clambering along it toward his mistress.

The closest outside wall. . which way?

An image appeared in her head, a mental map, and she knew that her mother's chambers backed up nearly to an outside wall, which meant that the secret room Pharaun and Quenthel had discovered was very close to the outside.

Frantically, Halisstra pointed to the hidden room.

«That way!» she yelled.

Pharaun nodded. Scrambling on his hands and knees, the wizard headed in that direction, almost slipping and sliding back the other way as the room tilted again. Halisstra began to slide along the floor, herself and decided against trying to stop, instead bracing her feet against the far, lowest wall. She craned her neck around to watch the mage as he began yet another spell. He seemed to have an endless supply of them. He dug in hispiwafwi and pulled out something too small for Halisstra to see, then he began to gesticulate wildly in the direction of the wall at the back of the secret closet. Before her eyes, a tu

«Come on!» Pharaun shouted to everyone as the whole House seemed to be one solid rumble.

The noise of the cracking stone was deafening, and Halisstra had barely been able to hear the wizard. The room tilted over even more sharply, and Halisstra realized that it was nearly sideways, with the new opening to the outside almost over her head. She began to float, lifting herself magically toward the impromptu exit, as the other members of the group did the same. As she reached the top and was about to pass through into the open air of the city beyond, she saw that Jeggred had a hold of Valas. The draegloth lifted effortlessly toward the hole, and it was at that moment that Halisstra remembered that Danifae could not levitate either.

The House Melarn daughter looked down desperately and saw her attendant, crouched in the low corner of the room, near the collapsed ceiling, scrambling to stay atop the shifting pile of rock as the room continued to tip over. Danifae's eyes were blazing with fury as she gazed angrily up toward where everyone else was escaping the collapsing dwelling. There was another excruciatingly loud snapping sound as more stone buckled and popped, and Danifae, still inside the destroyed remains of House Melarn, was falling away.

Khorrl Xornbane was bloody and exhausted. His clan, gathered all around him, looked that way too. He had no idea how long they'd been fighting, but it was too long. They needed rest and water. They couldn't keep this up for much longer. Unfortunately, the captain of Clan Xornbane feared that the day would grow much worse before it got better. He hoped he was wrong.

Khorrl had already passed the word that his troops were to abandon their positions defending House Melarn. They had been besieged there for so long and had used up so many of their firepots that he feared the place was growing unstable.

I'm not going to lose my boys that way, he told himself.

The remains of his forces were reforming on the opposite side of the plaza from the House, and for the moment they were being left alone. It was hard to be sure how long that peace would, last, though, because none of them could see very far in the thick smoke of the burning stone.

What Khorrl and his duergar could see told the tale clearly enough, though. The plaza was covered with the bodies of goblins and kobolds. Littered in between them were slightly fewer drow, though the number of dead dark elves surprised, him. More dead gray dwarves than Khorrl would have liked were scattered here and there, too. It had been a hellish day, and it was far from over, the captain feared.

«Sir,» one of his aides said, ru

«Good,» Khorrl replied, visualizing the battlefield in his mind, since he could no longer clearly see it with his eyes.

«Also,» the aide continued, «there's another force of drow coming toward us, from that direction.»

He pointed off to the left, where the plaza was joined by a large web street. It was, regrettably, the weakest point of Clan Xornbane's defenses.

«Friend or foe? Did you get a look at their House insignias?»

The aide shrugged and said, «Not in this smoke.»

Khorrl sighed. He would have to send scouts out to reco

«Wait,» the captain said, and the aide stopped attentively. 'Get some boys up there—«Khorrl pointed toward the street one level above where they were currently positioned—«I don't want another swarm of those damned dark elves dropping in on us like they did earlier.»

«Yes, sir,» the aide replied, and hurried off to execute his captain's commands.

Khorrl sighed again and turned to call for water. From behind him there was a loud popping sound, a sound he knew too well— splintering stone. He spun back around and peered through the gloom of smoke in the direction from which it had come. All up and down the lines that protected the clan's position, the word was spreading, and it reached Khorrl quickly enough. House Melarn was burning to oblivion, and it was about to go over.

Khorrl shook his head, knowing what was about to happen. He hoped his aide was right and hoped that all his boys had gotten out of there. He lamented the ones who couldn't, for whatever reason.

The popping started again, and grew louder and more steady. He could feel the vibrations in the stone beneath his feet. He almost wished he could see it, but in a way, he didn't. It was going to be a deathtrap for anyone still inside.

The snapping, splintering sound of stone reached a crescendo, and there was one final explosion, a tremor that shook the entire street enough that Khorrl had to brace himself with his axe. There was a jerk, and the rumbling ceased. Khorrl knew the whole building had gone over the side, tumbling into the void.

A few seconds later, there was a horrendous crash from below. House Melarn had struck something. A heartbeat later, he felt the vibrations of the impact. It was subtle, but for that sort of vibration to travel through a web street and into the walls of the huge cavern, and back along the other web streets, the initial impact must have been devastating.

It might take out several more streets, the duergar mused grimly.

«Sir!»

It was the aide again, rushing up to his captain, his look wide-eyed.

«What is it?» Khorrl demanded, wondering what would so shake up the lad.

«A spider! A huge one, as big as a house! It's coming this way!» Khorrl groaned, realizing just how much worse things had gotten. He hated being right.