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House medallion and indulged my wish to learn-of many things! But it is true that I have often fooled the
spiders. Shall I tell you how?"
"Perhaps later. I must have your blood oath that this vial will be kept from Xandra's eyes."
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"But why?" she persisted, truly perplexed by this demand.
Gromph studied his daughter for a long time. "How many young drow die during the Blooding?" he
asked at last.
"A few," Liriel admitted. "Surface raids often go wrong-the humans or faerie elves sometime learn of the
attack in time to prepare, or they fight better than expected, or in larger numbers. And it is likely that
from time to time a drow dagger slips between a youngling's ribs," she said matter-of-factly. "In those
rites that are taken Below, sometimes initiates become lost in the wild Underdark, or stumble upon some
monster that is beyond their skill with magic and weapons."
"And sometimes, they are slain by the very things they hunt," Gromph said.
This was a given, the girl shrugged, as if to ask what the point was.
"I do not desire to see any harm come to you. Xandra Shobalar may not share my good wishes," he said
bluntly.
Liriel suddenly went cold. Many emotions simmered and danced deep within her, waiting for her to
reach in and pluck one free-yet she truly felt none of them. Her tumultuous responses remained just
beyond her touch, for she had no idea which one to chose.
How could Gromph suggest that Xandra Shobalar could betray her? The Mistress of Magic had raised
her, lavishing more attention and indulgent favor upon her than most drow younglings ever dreamed of
receiving! Apart from her own mother-who had given Liriel not only life, but a wonderful five-year
cocoon of warmth and security and even love-Liriel believed that Xandra was the person most
responsible for making her what she was. And that was saying a great deal. Although Liriel could not
remember her mother's face, she understood that she had received from Sosdrielle Vandree something
that was rare among her kindred, something that nothing and no one could take from her. Not even
Gromph Baenre, who had ordered her beloved mother's death twelve years ago!
Liriel stared at her father, too dumbfounded to realize that her churning thoughts were written clearly in
her eyes.
"You do not trust me," the archmage stated in a voice absolutely devoid of emotion. "This is good-I was
beginning to despair of your judgment. It may be that you will survive this ritual, after all. Now listen
carefully as I describe the steps needed to activate the vial of holding."
Chapter Four: The Blooding
The Blooding ritual took place on the third darkcycle after Liriel's meeting with her father. She was
returned to House Shobalar as the day grew old, for all such rituals began at the dark hour of Narbondel.
When the great timepiece of Menzoberranzan dimmed to mark the hour of midnight, Liriel stood before
Hinkutes'nat Alar Shobalar, the matron mother of the clan.
The young drow had few dealings with the Shobalar matriarch, and she felt slightly unnerved by the dark
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and regal figure before her.
Hinkutes'nat was a high priestess of Lloth, as befitted a ruling matron, and she was typical of those who
followed the ways of the drow's goddess, the Spider Queen. Her throne room was as grim and
forbidding a lair as anything Liriel had ever seen. Shadows were everywhere, for the skulls of many
Shobalar victims had been fashioned into faintly glowing lanterns that threw patterns of death upon every
surface and cast ghastly purple highlights upon the dark faces assembled before the matron's throne.
A large cage stood in the middle of the chamber, ready to receive the prey for the Blooding ceremony. It
was surrounded on all four sides by the giant, magically bred spiders that formed the heart of the
Shobalar guard. In fact, giant spiders stood guard everywhere- in every corner of the chamber, on each
of the steps that led up to the throne dais, even suspended from the chamber's ceiling on long, glistening
threads.
In all, the throne room was a fit setting for the Shobalar matriarch. Cold and treacherous, the matron
resembled a spider holding court in the center of her own web.
She wore a black robe upon which webs had been embroidered in silver thread, and the gaze that she
turned upon Liriel was as calm and pitiless as that of any arachnid that ever had lived. She was spiderlike
in character, as well: even among the treacherous drow, the Shobalar Matron had earned a reputation for
the tangled nature of the deals she spun.
"You have prepared the prey?" the matron inquired of her third-born daughter.
"I have," Xandra said. "The youngling drow who stands before you shows great promise, as one would
expect of a daughter of House Baenre. To offer her less than a true challenge would be an insult to the
First Family."
Matron Hinkutes'nat lifted one eyebrow. "I see," she said dryly. "Well, that is your prerogative, and
within the rules set for the Blooding ritual. It is unlikely that recourse will be taken, but you understand
that you will bear the brunt of any unpleasantness that might result?" When Xandra nodded grim
acceptance, the matron again turned to Liriel. "And you, Princess, are you ready to begin?"
The Baenre girl dipped into a deep bow, doing her best to dim her shining eyes and school her face into
expressionless calm.
Three days in Gromph's household had not quite destroyed her eagerness for this adventure.
"This, then, will be your prey," Mistress Xandra said. She lifted both arms high, and brought them down
to her sides in a quick sweep. A faint crackle vibrated through the damp and heavy air of the chamber,
and the bars of the cage flared with sudden fey light. Every eye in the room turned to behold the ritual
quarry.
Liriel's heart pounded with excitement-she was certain that everyone could hear it!
Then the light surrounding the cage faded, and she was equally sure that all could feel the hard, cold
hand that gripped her chest and muffled its restless rhythm.
Within the cage stood a human male garbed in robes of bright red. Liriel had seldom encountered
humans and had few thoughts concerning them, but suddenly she found that she had no desire to
slaughter this one. He was too elflike, too much like a real person!
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"This is an outrage," she said in a low, angry voice. "I was led to believe that my Blooding would be a
test of skill and courage, a hunt involving some dangerous surface creature, such as a boar or a hydra!"
"If you misunderstood the nature of the Blooding, it was through no fault of mine," Mistress Xandra
retorted. "For years you have heard tales of surface raids. What did you think were slain-cattle? Prey is
prey, whether it has two legs or four. You have attended the ceremonies, you know what has been
required of those who have gone before you."
"I will not do this thing," Liriel said with a regal hauteur that would have done justice to Matron Baenre
herself.
"You have no choice in the matter," Matron Hinkutes'nat pointed out. "It is the part of the mistress or
matron to chose the prey, and to name the terms of the hunt.
"Proceed," she said, turning to her daughter. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]