Extinction

The assassin seemed to have recovered, at last, from the effects of the wand.

"You're going to kill me, no matter what," he croaked.

"Not necessarily," Triel answered, "You obviously have some talent, to get as close to my quarters as you did. Perhaps I'll recruit you for my House."

"With no feet?"

"We have regenerative magic," Triel answered.

"Not any more," the assassin said, wincing as he tried to smile. "Lolth is dead."

Triel shot to her feet, yanking out her whip, and shrieked, "Blasphemer!"

For a heartbeat or two, the vipers in the whip lashed, hissing their fury. How dare this male speak to her like that? She, who had been first in Lolth's favor and who was Matron Mother of House Baenre. A distant corner of her mind recognized that fear was driving her fury. The lack of a report from Quenthel was filling her with worry, increasing as each cycle passed. But if Lolth awoke from her silence and learned that Triel had not punished the male for his insolence. .

Then Triel realized she was being goaded. The assassin was trying to draw her closer to him. She couldn't see what attack he could possibly mount, wounded and bound with magical rope as he was, but she hadn't survived so many centuries by underestimating her foes. She stroked each or the vipers in turn to soothe them?and herself?then she tucked the whip away.

Lolth's grace might be out of Triel's reach?for the moment?but Triel had other magical abilities at her disposal. She used one of them, the power of her voice. Dropping into a husky, seductive tone that vibrated with magical energy, she began planting a suggestion in the captives mind.

"You might as well tell me who sent you," she told him. "If it was a matron mother of another House, she's safe enough. I'm not about to waste my troops in striking back at her with this siege on. If it was one of my sisters, you have as much to gain by serving me as you do by serving her. So tell me … who hired you?"

"I am no mere hireling," the man gritted.

Ah, pride. Triel could work with that.

"Of course not. You're proud of who?and what?you are. Why don't you share this information with me? Surely telling me about yourself won't betray anything about the matron who sent you."

"I serve no female." the assassin spat. "Nor will any male, soon enough. The Masked Lord will see to that."

A ripple of tension passed through the room as the officers and guards reacted to the name. With an effort, Triel kept her temper. Instead she focused on the information he'd just let slip.

Vhaeraun's worship was strictly forbidden in Menzoberranzan. Admitting to it was tantamount to suicide?slow suicide, since its worshipers were typically tortured to death in an effort to root out the names of other blasphemers. The assassin had just signed his own death warrant, which meant that any promises Triel made to spare his life would be ineffective.

No, he wanted to die. And slowly.

Triel stared down at him.

"If you hope to be rewarded by Vhaeraun, think again," she told him. "You failed in your mission. You'll be lucky if your god lifts his mask to spit upon you. And your fellow conspirators are feeble and weak, just look what they sent to do the job, a mere boy? They're not even worth my contempt."

The assassin's good eye blazed.

"Laugh while you can," he spat back at her. "You'll be weeping soon enough, when the Jaezred Chaulssin come to call."

Triel smiled to herself as she pondered the name. It was obviously an organization of some sort?perhaps one that had arisen during the slave rebellion that had been so recently put down. Could they be some ragged refugees from the ruins of the city called Chaulssin?

"I've never heard of this Jaezred Chaulssin," she said disdainfully. "They're obviously as inconsequential as they are ineffective."

The captive gave a croaking laugh and said, "Hardly ineffective. My master brought an army to your doorstep."

Triel seized upon the information.

"Your master is a duergar then … or a tanarukk? Kaanyr Vhok?"

"Much more than that. Much more than that mercenary Vhok. My master has powers that you could only dream of. It was he who engineered your army's defeat at the battle of the Pillars of Woe."

Triel raised an eyebrow and asked, "Oh, did he?" She could guess who the assassin was referring to but needed confirmation. "Then no doubt he'd like me to know his name?to know which male dared attack Matron Mother Baenre in her own home. Or is he afraid of me, as all good little drow males should be?"

That goad, combined with Triel's magical suggestion, tipped the balance.

"My master is no mere drow, he said. "Nimor is?"

He bit off the rest, aware that he had already revealed too much.

Nimor? Triel growled. The name was unfamiliar. Then she realized who it must be. "You mean Captain Zhayemd of Agrach Dyrr, don't you? The traitor who led the army of duergar to our very doorstep?"

The prisoner nodded defiantly and said, "Your master, soon enough."

Triel thought about that for a moment. Zhayemd was clearly an assumed name?had the assassin's leader also assumed the name of the Sixth House? She wondered how deeply Agrach Dyrr's treachery truly lay. Had Nimor persuaded the soldiers to attack their allies on his own, or had he the backing of the House itself? An important question, since Agrach Dyrr's household was under siege by forces of Menzoberranzan that could better be used to battle the duergar and tanarukks.

Triel decided to bluff.

"I knew your master was not an Agrach Dyrr," she told the assassin. "I had never seen him before?and I know all of the senior officers of that House. Matron Mother Yasraena and I are … allies. As much as any two matron mothers can be."

"Yasraena Dyrr is of no consequence."

Triel stiffened and asked, "What do you mean?"

"A male rules House Agrach Dyrr?the lichdrow. Vhaeraun has re-established the natural order of things, just as he will in all of Menzoberranzan, once this war is won."

Triel heard a slight intake of breath beside her, and remembered her lieutenant. Quick as a striking snake, she cracked her whip in his direction. Gleefully hissing, the five vipers sank their fangs into his dark flesh. The male officer stiffened, then gurgled faintly as his eyes rolled back. He crashed to the floor like a broken stalactite.

His lizard sniffed him once, then immediately began to feed, chewing on the head with loud crunching noises.

Triel glanced at Maignith.

"Not a word of this to anyone," she hissed.

Maignith bowed, then stared meaningfully at each of the guards on either side of Triel and said, "You can count on our silence, Matron Mother."

Triel returned her attention to the captive. She was delighted that he had at last succumbed to her magical suggestion?he was giving her even more information than she'd dared hope for. Wetting her lips like a lizard scenting blood, she probed further.

"Was it the lichdrow who sent you here? Was it his magic that got you inside?"

"No. . and no."

"Who got you inside, then?"

"Nimor himself. And though I have failed, he will not. Your defenses are as weak as cobwebs against him. He escorted me through the shadows and into your 'stronghold' with ease."

"Nimor is within these walls?" Maignith gasped.

The assassin smirked and answered, "He was."

Triel's eyes narrowed. Not at the fact that Nimor had been able to creep into the heart of House Baenre?the massive stalagmite that had been hollowed out to form the Great Mound?but that, having accomplished such a feat, he would have left it again. Why hadn't he stayed to attack her himself? Why leave a weaker vassal behind to do his bidding? Certainly he would have known that this man would be caught.

The assassin interrupted her musings with a pained laugh.