Dark Flower III, Ch. 12: Gone

[Mikayla]

Dark Flower, Book III

Chapter 12: Gone.

Several cycles passed before Celuldor returned from the mission Matron Shyntlara had sent him on. When he did return, he neglected to brief Sheyreiza as was his custom. Sheyreiza only learned about his return because one of the apprentice Auvryndar wizards came to her in a panic; it seemed Celuldor had returned alive, but insane. Sheyreiza found her brother in his room in the Auvryndar wizard’s tower. The normally urbane, reserved, and sophisticated Celuldor was lying naked on the floor of his room, crying and stinking of piss like some common mad-man in the gutters of an iblith city. “The eyes!” He yelled hoarsely as she entered. “The burning eyes!” Sheyreiza attempted to calm him but her presence only seemed to provoke even louder screaming. He began to thrash about on the floor as she bent down to speak with him.

“What is wrong with you?” She snapped in angered frustration. “Where have you been?”

“All gone.” He muttered, “all gone.”

She stood up straight. “What is all gone?”

“ALL OF IT IS GONE!” He screamed. The wizard fell to his belly and crawled away from Sheyreiza. “The eyes. You’ve brought the eyes, the burning eyes.”

Sheyreiza looked herself over. No one had cast any spell upon her that she was aware of. She saw nothing out of place, nothing unusual, certainly nothing she would describe as “eyes” or “burning eyes.” “What are you talking about? Celuldor, where have you been? What mission did you get sent on?”

The mage pulled himself up against the far wall, desperately squeezing into the corner to get as far away from Sheyreiza as he could. “I saw what was not there. All gone. All of it gone!” Sheyreiza began moving slowly towards him, holding her empty hands out to her side in a gesture of peace. Her brother began to whimper. “No…no…you bring the eyes. The eyes…the burning eyes! The walls of the mind protect what is hidden. The walls of the mind protect what is hidden. The eyes...the eyes must not see!” By the time Sheyreiza was an arms reach away, Celuldor was sobbing uncontrollably. Again she tried to calm him, but again it was to no avail. She backed away and his whimpering softened. The crying stopped and he began repeating what he said about the walls of the mind protecting what is hidden.

“What is hidden, Celuldor? There is no one else here, we are safe.” Sheyreiza assured him. Clearly he was insane; what was gone was his mind.

“No.” Celuldor shook his head violently. “No, the eyes. You brought the eyes, the burning eyes. The eyes see all, the eyes must not see. The walls of the mind protect what is hidden, the walls of the mind protect what is hidden, the walls of the mind protect what is hidden, the walls…” He sank into a mindless repetition and Sheyreiza realized that she was not going to reach him. Her brother, the most powerful mage in Auvryndar, had been reduced to a feeble minded idiot.

Or had he? What did he mean by the walls of the mind? Could they be walls he, himself, had erected? Walls of insanity perhaps? Had Celuldor delved into madness to keep others, presumably Wendonai, from learning what Celuldor had learned on his secret mission? Sheyreiza thought that sounded like the kind of distinctly ingenious but twisted plan her half-brother might conceive of.

Sheyreiza went straight from the Auvryndar wizard’s tower to the throne room; Celuldor’s condition had to be reported. Matron Shyntlara was unexpectedly waiting for Sheyreiza; not to hear Sheyreiza report about Celuldor, but to send Sheyreiza out on a mission of her own. Matron Shyntlara was, however, very interested in Sheyreiza’s account of Celuldor’s current condition though she did not deign to inform Sheyreiza of what mission Celuldor had been sent on.

Sheyreiza’s new mission, however, was straightforward enough; she and her murder team were to explore the ruins underneath the Clan Deepgloom trade-hall. Sheyreiza found this an odd request as she had led the attack that conquered the Deepgloom trade-hall and she had seen no lower level. Moreover, given the trade-hall’s place in the webbing of Ched Nasad, she did not think there were any levels of the building she had missed. Nevertheless, Sheyreiza was not about to refuse a direct order from the Matron; if the Matron wished this non-existent level of the Deepgloom trade-hall investigated, then Sheyreiza would do it. Still, she thought the most pressing issue Auvryndar faced was the loss of their Archmage; whether self-induced or not, at the moment, their best wizard’s mind was gone.

****************

A cycle later in the Deepgloom trade hall, Sheyreiza barely managed to conceal her surprise when Pharaun found a heretofore unknown entry point to a lower level. She was positive that the staircase had not existed when last they were here, but there was no doubt it was here now. Pharaun slipped quietly down the wide stone steps; a few moments later he signaled for the rest of the murder-team to follow. Sheyreiza nodded and they each slipped down into the trade-hall’s lower level one by one. Almost instantly Sheyreiza realized the lower level had to be some sort of extra-planar construction; it was not physically on the material plane, which explained why the profile of the trade-hall in Ched’s webbing did not account for the extra thickness.

The chambers were empty but Sheyreiza felt heaviness in the air, an oppressive weight that bore down upon her like the anticipation of battle or judgment. Though there were no enemy in sight, she coiled her whip of fangs, stowed it in her magic bag, and then withdrew her battle weapon, the ancient abyssal morningstar, Lolth’s Blessing. With a nod she sent Pharaun scouting deeper into the dimensional pocket. Sheyreiza followed him and she in turn was followed by Faerylene and Tsaklyn Hlaund, a male wizard. The corridor came to a four way intersection. Ahead there appeared to be a chamber and to each side, another corridor. She nodded forward and Pharaun slid gracefully and quietly into the chamber directly across the intersecting passage. She followed closely, more closely than she normally might, as it seemed likely that if anyone was here, they would be in these chambers.

To Sheyreiza’s surprise, there was no one in the chamber; there was only a great, black pit in the floor. No matter how far Sheyreiza or the others leaned over the edge, they could not see a bottom to the pit and Sheyreiza strongly suspected there was no bottom, at least not in the conventional sense. She did not know exactly where the pit went, but she believed it was a dimensional gateway. The team backed out of the chamber and moved down one of the side corridors; that passage ended in a similar room with a similar pit. The other side corridor was the same as well. Sheyreiza walked back into the central chamber and stared into the gaping black hole. She wished she had her divination spells available; she dearly wanted to know where these pits led to.

As if in answer to her wish, a deep red light began to glow within the darkness. The light burned brightly and began to grow, like a smoldering ember being fanned back to life. There was rush of heat, and the sound of fire followed. Something moved in the expanding red light; something very, very large. And that something was climbing out of the pit.

“Run!” Sheyreiza yelled. “Everyone out now!” She turned and sprinted for the corridor, making for the stairway back to the solid physical realm of the Deepgloom trade-hall in Ched Nasad. Her team followed without hesitation. Halfway back to the stairs a well dressed male blocked their path. The man smiled and showed little fear or concern as Sheyreiza came running down the passage towards him, morningstar in hand. Instinctively Sheyreiza knew this male was the balor lord Wendonai, shape shifted into drow form; this was probably the guise he used when dealing with the traitorous Melarn. The demon had undoubtedly come up out of the pit and teleported to the stairs, cutting Sheyreiza and her team off from any hope of escape.

“Running from something?” The male asked, with more than a hint of amusement in his voice.

Sheyreiza stopped a few feet in front of him. “Not any more.” She looked him over; the male appeared to be nothing more than an effete nobleman, but she knew, she simply knew, that was not the case.

“I do not want to kill you.” He said reassuringly, his voice smooth, calm, and cultured.

Sheyreiza smiled. “That’s good to hear, thank you.” She replied, barely covering the sarcasm in her voice. “Well then, we shall be going.” Without waiting for an answer she started walking by the male down the passage to the waiting stairs.

Wendonai was not so easily deflected, however; the man put out a hand and caught Sheyreiza by the shield-arm. He was impossibly strong and whatever doubts Sheyreiza had about the male’s true identity dissipated in his iron grip. “I don’t want to kill you,” he repeated much more sternly, “but I will if I must. Worship me and I will spare your life. Your goddess is dead. I am the hope for your people. I am the hope for you. I am the god of the drow now. Worship me, and be rewarded. Defy me, and be destroyed.”

Sheyreiza looked into the male’s eyes for a moment, studying them. They were drow eyes, but the fierce intelligence, ravenous hunger and burning hatred of the demon showed through. She relaxed and took in a deep breath. She looked down the corridor at the stairs; she was so close to freedom, so close to escape, and yet, so far from it that she knew the stairs might as well not exist. She was not going back to Ched Nasad; she was going to die, right here and right now. She smiled slightly, causing the demon’s brows to knit in puzzlement. Slowly, she turned to look him in the eye.

“I will never join you,” she said softly, “not even if what you say is true. I have made my choice, and my choice is Lolth.” Her voice was so calm and so soft, the demon just stared at her curiously as if he did not understand what she was saying. In that moment of hesitation she rocked back on her heels; her eyes alighted with the fire of her own anger and she brought Lolth’s Blessing around in an arc for Wendonai’s head. As she did, Pharaun, who had slipped forward while Sheyreiza and Wendonai were speaking, lunged at the drow-demon with both blades. Faerylene also attacked, sword arcing towards demon flesh. None of them struck their target.

Sheyreiza staggered, thrown off balance by her swing which should have connected with Wendonai but did not. Beneath her feet the ground had become soft and gave way with her steps; she was standing in red sand. The grey stone walls of the dimensional pocket were suddenly gone. There was a sky; a crimson sky. She looked about, wild-eyed; in the distance she could see mountains of rusty red rock, flames burning in between the peaks. Phaurun staggered in front of her and fell to his knees. Next to him, Faerylene’s sword-swing landed in the sand. Tsaklyn was here as well, looking about in alarm and disgust. The air was heavy, humid and stank like rot. Black, oily rain fell from rolling clouds of darkness, and steam rose from where the drops landed upon their armor and cloaks.

Sheyreiza held her weapon at the ready and turned about in a circle warily looking about. “He has sent us to the netherworlds. We are in the pits I fear.”

Eyes watering, Pharaun rose from his knees. “We are dead.”

“Alive, and yet dead.” Sheyreiza elaborated, lowering her weapon.

“His home?” Faerylene asked.

Sheyreiza shook her head slightly. “I do not know if it is his home. There are many planes in the abyss.” Nearby, Tsaklyn was already adjusting to the plane; he stripped off his heavy robe, revealing lighter clothing underneath. He folded the heavy robe up and tucked it into a satchel. He adapts well and quickly, Sheyreiza thought, something to remember. She looked around at the worry on Faerylene and Pharaun’s faces. “Keep your faith! You are not dead yet.”

“How do you know?” Pharaun asked dejectedly as he rubbed the filthy rain from his face.

“Because I have died before.” Sheyreiza replied quickly and flatly. “And this is not how it goes. We are alive, but in the pits. Or some other netherworld.” Indeed, it had been years, decades even, since her death at the hands of humans on the surface, but this was most definitely not the fugue. This is not where departing souls went to first.

The demoralized scout frowned. “Then we are as good as dead.”

“Not yet we are not.” Sheyreiza declared defiantly. “The living may pass through the nether regions. Just as there are ways in to the nether regions, there are ways out. And perhaps we are here for a reason.”

Faerylene nodded at Sheyreiza’s words. “As long as I have breath, I will fight for Lolth.”

Something tugged at Sheyreiza’s mind; something familiar. It was not physical; it was a feeling, as if this was a familiar place or perhaps as if something familiar was nearby. She turned towards the feeling, or at least where she imagined it would be, and saw only mountains in the distance. Though there was nothing there, the feeling was all she had to go on. “Follow me.” She ordered. “Stay close, or be lost forever.” She started walking towards the mountains; the sand was deep making the walk difficult and slow but she trudged on. The others followed, each doing what they could to deal with the torrent of filthy black rain and the smell of rot. As they climbed up through the foothills at the base of the mountains, they passed a cave entrance. Sheyreiza could tell that despite the bones and gore littering the area around the opening, some of her team wished to take shelter inside. She knew there would be no shelter in there; there would be no real shelter at all on this plane. This was the abyss, most likely, and shelter was not to be found. The only way to survive was to find a way out; as the iblith proverb says, if you are going through hell, keep going. “We must head north, not into the cave.”

Pharaun frowned, and looked at her sideways. “Why?” He asked insolently.

“I am drawn that way.” She explained. It was not entirely true; nothing was really drawing her, but the feeling of familiarity was coming from that direction, so that was the direction she was going to travel.

He scoffed. “And that is a good thing?”

“It is all I have to go on.” She said, trying to calm him. “It is all that is familiar here.” That much was true at least.

Pharaun was about to retort when his eyes went wide. “Tanar'ri!”

An enormous vulture-headed demon swooped out of the darkness-clouds that spotted the red sky above. The terrible beast descended in a heart-beat and raked Sheyreiza with its dagger-length talons, but her enchanted mithral armor held. Sheyreiza spun with lightening speed and caught the beast squarely in the head with Lolth’s Blessing, spraying a cloud of horrid feathers and demonic ichor across the fiendish desert. Pharaun and Faerylene leapt into the fray and soon the murder-team was doing what it did best; killing. They circled the beast, keeping themselves in a loose triangle, striking at it from all sides. The creature raked vainly at Sheyreiza again allowing Pharaun to come upon its flank; the nimble scout planted both his blades into the demon’s body to the hilt. The creature let loose a horrid screech, a sound no mortal being could make and then it expired, falling to the ground where its black blood poured out onto the red sand. Sheyreiza took in a deep breath and smiled. Even demoralized, under pressure, and in an alien environment her murder-team could fight, defend itself, and kill.

There was no more debate; Sheyreiza nodded to the others and they set out upwards through the hills and into the mountains along a dirt path that led upward between enormous red boulders into the highlands. Here and there, the very ground was alight with flames. Sheyreiza could not discern the source of the fires, but this was the abyss so she did not give it much thought. The trail they followed led to a V-shaped cut through the mountainside. Warily, they proceeded through the valley, constantly scanning every direction for ambushes, rock falls and other hazards. The V-Shaped valley opened up into a bowl and there two mighty, flaming, winged giants were locked in combat. Sheyreiza surmised they were either balor-demons or pit-fiends, or perhaps one of each; she could not tell from this distance and she did not want to get any closer. “Stand clear of this fight.” She commanded; it was not an order that needed to be given twice.

“We can run past it while they are occupied.” Pharaun suggested.

Sheyreiza watched the two great fiends fight, surveyed the path, and then nodded to Pharaun. When the two fiendish giants tumbled away in a deadly embrace, Sheyreiza saw the team’s opportunity. “Go!” She yelled; the scout darted off at a sprint. The rest of the party quickly followed, skirting the titanic battle as best they could. An errant wall of fire cast by one of the combatants appeared in their path but drow reflexes and mortal survival instinct saved them. On the far side of the bowl there was a stair way carved into the stone. The four drow sprinted up the steps in their armor, sucking in black rain and fetid air as they gasped for breath. At the top they rested, some of them falling to their knees. The battle of the fiendish titans was behind them now, but in front of them was a river of blood. Sheyreiza remembered lessons about the river of blood that supposedly flowed through the underworld; she had never seen it, but she had heard it was poison and could erase a person’s memories forever.

“Do not touch even a single drop of the blood.” She cautioned. Once the four drow had rested for a few minutes, Sheyreiza got them moving again. They crossed the river on a stone bridge and then climbed higher and higher into the mountains. As they climbed, they passed across unfathomably deep gorges on rickety, wooden spans of seemingly impossible length. As they walked up a red-dirt slope Sheyreiza saw the wall of what looked like a ruined castle as red as the natural stone it was buttressed by. There were great gates set in the wall, made of iron so far as Sheyreiza could tell, though in the abyss one could not be sure. The gates stood open and there was an armored figure standing near to them, a guard Sheyreiza presumed. He was beautiful and perfectly proportioned, with a chiseled face and body. Small horns protruded from his hair and Sheyreiza took him to be an incubus. She approached him indirectly, veering towards the gate.

The incubus took note of Sheyreiza and her team as they came closer and moved to intercept them. “Primes. And drow at that.” He said with some amusement.

“Indeed.” Sheyreiza replied coolly.

A huge female demon with six arms and the lower body of a snake slithered out of the open gate and hissed at the incubus. “Return to your post.” The incubus frowned but moved off quickly without argument. The she-demon turned to Sheyreiza and snapped at her in abyssal. “What do you want drowling?”

Narrowing her eyes Sheyreiza sized up the snake-bodied demon. This was a marilith, if her instructors at Zhennu Orbb knew what they were talking about; a very powerful demon, a veritable general. Sheyreiza did not want to test the fiend’s patience or temper, so she answered truthfully and contritely. “We seek a way off this plane, and back to our own, or, a way to the Demonweb.”

The marilith laughed a hissing, spiteful laugh that sent chills across Sheyreiza’s skin despite the overwhelming heat of the plane. “Little fools. There is no demonweb. Not any more. Stay awhile if you want. But stay too long and you will have to earn it and fight.”

“I would rather not I think.” Sheyreiza replied frankly. “There is one I seek, a bebilith of power.”

“Not my problem.” Hissed the marilith as she slithered off, her short attention having slipped to other matters.

Sheyreiza watched her go. “Not yet perhaps.” She said under her breath at the departing fiend. On the other side of the wall was a settlement of sorts. Dozens of stone buildings, some plain and small, some large and ornate, were arrayed in a small valley protected by the wall the murder-team had just passed through. Haphazard streets of red dirt lay between the chaotic jumble of eclectic buildings. The party moved through the crooked streets quietly, taking in the sights of the fiendish town. Here and there incubi and succubi moved about, tending to whatever it was demons tended to. In the distance, a voice yelled in alarm. “Baatezu attack!” Demons scrambled around the settlement, some taking to the air, others running indoors. Pharaun quickly ducked inside the largest of the nearby buildings and the murder-team followed. They found themselves inside a great-hall, lit intermittently with glowing braziers that emitted evil looking smoke in a variety of unnatural colors. Near the center of the room an incubus forced himself against a succubus who was pressed up against a thick stone pillar. Both were groaning in pleasure as they coupled with a fervor most mortals would both envy and fear. Beyond them was a glowing dais and upon the dais a balor-demon appeared, stretching out its enormous wings to their full breadth. Sheyreiza watched wide-eyed as the beast grabbed the groaning incubus by the throat and casually tossed him aside. The balor then mounted the already heated and wet succubus who welcomed him lustfully.

The incubus snarled from the ground. “If you wanted her, you had but to ask.” The balor took no further notice of the incubus however, and the male demon wandered off sulking and cursing under his breath. The succubus appeared not to mind the change of lovers, arching her back to meet her new paramour’s thrusts and moaning wildly with each push.

Though the coupling of the two demons was a sight to behold, the murder-team was much more interested in the glowing dais, which appeared to be a gateway. One by one they stepped onto the dais but nothing happened. Try as they might, they could not get the gate to operate.

The succubus was watching them as the balor did his business on top of her. She giggled between moans. “Won’t work for you.” She said breathily. “No key.”

Sheyreiza looked over to the succubus who was peering out from under the huge form of the gyrating balor. “Indeed? Where does it go?” Sheyreiza asked.

“Sigil.” The succubus replied. “Why go there?” She moaned, and arched her back as the balor quickened the pace of his thrusts. “So much more fun here.” She giggled again.

“And where is here?” Sheyreiza asked.

“Flamelust.” The succubus replied with a gasp. “Two-hundred-thirty-ninth…oh by Grazzt!” Screams of pleasure over took the she-demon. The balor’s thrusts became a frenzy but the succubus matched him move for move. It was clear they would get nothing more from the two demons, so the murder-team left the lovers and moved through the hall. At intervals along the side walls were a series of flaming portals. Demons and half-demons moved in and out of them but there was no sign as to how the portals operated to or to where they were connected.

Pharaun abruptly recognized one of the demonic portal travelers and identified him as Kaanyr Vholk, the leader of the Scourged Legion. “He is a demon, yes?” Sheyreiza asked.

“A half-demon.” Answered a familiar voice from the shadows of the hall.

Sheyreiza did not turn to look at who was speaking; she recognized the voice at once. “I knew I felt you. I could smell you the moment we came here.”

Faerylene turned sharply, her hand upon her sword hilt. “Hartex!” She gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“Yes,” Hartex replied to Sheyreiza, “I sensed you as well. At first I thought it was just a rather fond memory as I enjoyed a rather succulent succubus.” His face and voice darkened suddenly. “But I suppose I could never be that lucky.”

“One never knows,” she replied slowly, walking towards Hartex, “I am sure I am quite succulent.”

“Can we get out of here now?” Pharaun asked, fidgeting nervously with his hands. The scout’s fear was clearly mounting but Sheyreiza ignored it for the moment.

“Get out of here?” Hartex chuckled, his deep voice rolling through the large stone hall. “Why would you ever want to leave?”

Sheyreiza took a deep breath as she approached her former patron and servant. “Because we have business to take care of.”

“Well good luck with that.” The demon replied sarcastically. “I only came out of curiosity. You have no hold over me here. You’re lucky I don't kill you, but, fond memories and all.”

“Indeed.” Sheyreiza replied with a nod. “But you can help us I am sure.” Hartex, could, indeed try to kill them; she was not sure if he was physically capable of it but she did not want to find out. The key was to play to his weakness and his weakness was Sheyreiza; he had a bit of an obsession with her, though he would never admit it. This obsession was not entirely a good thing of course; Hartex wanted to kill Sheyreiza as much as he wanted to have sex with her. Indeed, Sheyreiza knew Hartex’s full desire was to rape her, kill her and eat her; but she was favored by Lolth and she was powerful in her own right so he had not dared to fulfill his fantasies.

“Careful lover,” Hartex growled, “you don't rule here.”

Sheyreiza nodded as she walked slowly around Hartex. “You are not under my rule anymore,” she conceded, “I will grant you that. But we can still treat with each other, can we not?” She stepped in front of him, her beautiful face but inches from his.

“Perhaps.” The demon replied reluctantly.

A little smile brightened Sheyreiza’s countenance. “We seek to find our Mistress, or, failing that, our way back to the world.”

“You came here without my aid.” Hartex pointed out. “I'm sure you can find your way to leave.”

Lowering her head slightly, Sheyreiza gave him a girlish pout. “Perhaps, but I ask your aid just the same.” She raised her gaze to meet his and her voice deepened, traversing the distance from girl to woman in a breath. “And I would like my stone back.”

Hartex eyed the high priestess, surveying her curves and her hair, her weapons and her armor, her skin and her form. “Send your companions out. We will speak in private.”

Looking to the others, Sheyreiza gestured towards the door. “Leave us.”

Faerylene dutifully gathered the others and led them out, Tsaklyn hurrying out the door while Pharaun scowled back over his shoulder at Sheyreiza and the demon. When they were gone, Hartex looked Sheyreiza over again. “I never did like you in full armor. It covers too much of that ‘succulent’ body.”

“Indeed.” Sheyreiza smiled tauntingly. “Perhaps someday you will get to touch it again, or even taste of it.”

“Oh I will.” Hartex said, with far too much confidence for Sheyreiza’s comfort. “You are obviously not here because you chose to be. Explain how this came to be.”

“Wendonai.” She replied simply. “He cornered us. I refused to worship him and then he sent us here.”

“He didn't kill you outright? Rather generous.”

“Perhaps.” Sheyreiza suspected Wendonai had some ulterior motive in sparing their lives, but she had not figured out what that motive might be yet.

“I wasn't so lucky.” The demon grimaced.

She nodded. “When I felt our telepathic bond snap, I figured you had found him.”

The memory of his physical defeat at Wendonai’s hand obviously irritated Hartex. His brows furrowed and his eyes darkened as he changed the subject. “What is it you want exactly Sheyreiza.”

“To find our Goddess. To regain Her favor.”

“You haven't lost it.” Hartex replied with no little irony. “But what else?”

Sheyreiza decided to play to Hartex’s sense of vengeance. “To throw down this Wendonai and to save my people and my city.”

“What do you want that I can provide?” The demon asked in exasperation.

Sheyreiza did not want to test the demon’s patience so she went straight to the point. “Do you know how we can get to the Demonweb? Or back to the world?”

“I know both.” He offered cautiously.

“Do you know where our Goddess is?” She probed.

“No.” Answered the demon with finality.

Her face tightened in anger. “What do you know of what has become of the Demonweb?”

“Agreement of payment first, then information and more.” Hartex deflected.

Now it was Sheyreiza’s turn to look Hartex over suspiciously. “What do you wish?”

The demon grinned. “Fifty souls. Half now, half when you return; you for one day in the abyss; and when I return to the prime your bitch niece Faerylene is mine to do with as I please.”

“I would agree, but I have no way to give you twenty-five souls right now.” Sheyreiza countered. She had traded with demons before and they always wanted souls. Sheyreiza, however, could not perform the magic necessary to trap a soul on her own, at least not yet. She needed a temple, an altar, and the full panoply of regalia that went into a ritual sacrifice.

Hartex smiled when she did not balk at the demands. “Alright, one hundred souls then when you are on the prime.”

She nodded. “One hundred souls to Hartex then, plus one day with me in the abyss, and when we both return to the prime material, you may have my niece Faerylene.”

Hartex bit back a cruel laugh, and nodded in satisfaction. “I can plane-shift at will; such is my ability as a bebilith so I may hunt my prey. I will take you all to what remains of the Demonweb, or you alone so you may see it yourself.”

“Just me for now.” Sheyreiza said, her voice dropping low. “I do not wish the others to see.”

“Then I will return them first to the prime.”

“Very well.” Sheyreiza agreed with a sigh. Bargaining with demons was nothing new for her, but it was always a chore, and a very tricky and dangerous one at that.

With the negotiations complete and the deal done, demon and priestess walked out of the great hall’s double-doors side by side. Just beyond the portal in the red dirt street, Faerylene and Pharaun were discussing the Celuldor’s madness while Tsaklyn observed them silently.

“Celuldor is quite sane.” Sheyreiza interjected. She was not as positive about that as she sounded, but she thought it was likely true; she now believed Celuldor’s insanity was self-induced to protect whatever secrets lay inside his head. “His madness is less insane than you might think. Now, Hartex will return the three of you to the world of the living.”

“What of you Yathtallar?” Faerylene asked somewhat fearfully.

“I will return in due time. You three will return at once.” Sheyreiza responded, while Hartex just laughed. The answer startled Faerylene, but she said nothing further.

“Lets go then.” Hartex grumbled.

Pharaun shook his head nervously. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” The scout turned on Sheyreiza, his voice rising in volume and pitch as his panic escalated. “You have sold us to buy your way back to Ched Nasad!” Pharaun’s accusation was not lost on the others, especially Tsaklyn, who now looked to the high priestess. The scout was backing away, his hands upon the hilts of his blades.

Sheyreiza frowned at the retreating scout. “You will be back in the city long before me male.” She replied irritably. “And in better condition.”

The scout kept retreating away from the others, still shaking his head nervously. “I will find my own way back.” He did not await any further reply; he spun on his heels and ran. Sheyreiza watched him sprint down the abyssal street until he disappeared into the demonic settlement. She thought briefly about pursuing him but found the idea did not appeal to her. If the fool wanted to run off alone into the depths of the abyss, he would likely get what he deserved. If he somehow survived, which Sheyreiza thought was certainly possible, then he would be an exile for the rest of his days. Such a pathetic, animalistic existence is exactly what he deserved; death might be too kind a judgment for one who would cut and run as he had. One way or another, Pharaun was gone.

“Well, he’s dead.” Hartex commented as Pharaun fled.

Tsaklyn, who had remained quiet until now, turned to Sheyreiza. “Learn from Pharaun, you said?” He was reminding Sheyreiza of what she had told Tsaklyn when the murder-team had first set out; she had said the young wizard, who was new to the team, should learn from Pharaun whom she described as an accomplished scout and model team member. In light of Pharaun’s panic and flight, the advice was clearly erroneous.

“Forget Pharaun.” She replied coldly. “Hlaund, Faerylene, go with the demon.” She eyed the two of them cautiously. She would not brook any further dissension; if either one of them gave her any resistance, she was going to cut them down mercilessly.

Tsaklyn shook his head and looked towards the red, otherworldly street down which Pharaun had fled. The apprentice-wizard sighed and turned back to the demon, reluctantly, but resolutely. “Lead on.”

Faerylene nodded and bowed to Sheyreiza. “Malla tlu Lolth, Yathtallar Sheyreiza.”

With a brief nod Sheyreiza returned the salute. “Malla tlu Lolth.” Hartex offered his hands to Faerylene and Tsaklyn, they each took one in turn, albeit warily. The demon closed his eyes and in moments, the three of them faded from Sheyreiza’s sight. She stood alone in the red street, black rain falling upon her armor and staining her hair. She looked around the eclectic settlement with its hodge-podge of grand halls and slovenly hovels. Beautiful demons, she presumed incubi and succubi, walked to and fro, taking no notice of her. She wondered how long that would last. She did not have long to wait, however; a shimmer in the foul air heralded the return of Hartex.

“Done.” He announced.

“Indeed.” She replied nonchalantly. Sheyreiza did not know whether he had told the truth or not of course, and she did not really care. The return of the others was incidental to her primary goal of finding Lolth. “Very well, let us go see the Demonweb.”

Hartex held out his hand. “We will not stay long. Oblivion does not welcome company.”

She took a deep breath and then clasped her hand to his. A moment later the red streets, buildings, stones and mountains of Flamelust disappeared and she was in utter darkness. She seemed to stand upon nothing, floating in an endless black. All that was there were herself and Hartex. “This cannot be the Demonweb.” She snapped angrily, trying as much to convince herself as she was trying to accuse Hartex of deceit. “I have been there before, and it is not simply a void.”

The demon was unmoved. “That is all it is now.” He explained calmly.

“Then where is She?” Sheyreiza asked, referring to the Queen of the Demonweb Pits, Lolth.

“Gone.” He said simply, staring out at the black.

The word hit Sheyreiza like a hammer. She did not believe it; she could not believe it. “Blasphemy.”

Hartex turned to face her. “Do you think she speaks to me when she refuses the same to you?” He asked as if speaking with a child.

The sensibility, the truth of his words, pierced her to the core and she found she could not hold his gaze. She turned away to hide the fear that she knew would be showing on her face. “I must find Her.” The normally confident, arrogant high-priestess’s voice was small and quiet, though there was a sliver of resolve lining it.

“Selvetarm still guards something.” The demon explained, as if to quell Sheyreiza’s growing doubt. “But it is not her. Or not what she used to be.”

Desperation and hope blended harmoniously into urgency for Sheyreiza. “What does he guard?” She asked quickly.

“A hunger. Something unknown. Something we will not venture close to. But this is where the Demonweb pits were.”

“Then she has moved.” Sheyreiza decided abruptly. “She has gone somewhere else. She cannot be destroyed.”

“Gods have died before.” Hartex pointed out. “As well as Goddesses.”

Sheyreiza could not argue that, though she also could not admit that Lolth was truly gone. “It will do me no good to believe such about her. My fate is tied to Hers.”

“You did not believe so, long ago.” He remarked pointedly, referring to her past as heretic.

Staring out into the empty void Sheyreiza thought about her heresy. There were other Goddesses, other Gods, and she had followed more than one in her time. In the end, however, she came back to Lolth. The reason was simple; Lolth, no matter how chaotic, how crazed, how sadistic, or how violent, was the only Goddess in Sheyreiza’s heart and the only Goddess who had the strength to keep the drow race alive.

“I was wrong.” She said finally. Sheyreiza had made her choice that night in the mountains outside of Silverymoon; Lolth had given her the option of coming back or not. Eilistraee and Moradin had sent their signs and messengers giving Sheyreiza the opportunity to stay free of Lolth’s web, but Sheyreiza had chosen Lolth. She had chosen to follow the Queen of Spiders and in so doing, she tied her fate to Lolth’s for all time. “I will not turn to some bastard demon.” She growled with as much ferocity and determination as she could muster.

Hartex was not intimidated or awed; he just chuckled with amusement. “Of course you won't.” In the midst of his mirth his face suddenly darkened and the demon looked back out into the black. He was afraid and Sheyreiza had rarely sensed that from him. “It is time to go.” He said calmly, but with great force.

Sheyreiza felt it then, a hunger, an insatiable need, reaching out of the black towards them. Fear was rising in the demon but Sheyreiza turned to face the coming oblivion. “Lolth?” She called out into the nothing. “My Queen, Mother of Lusts, are you there?”

The demon did not wait for an answer; he grabbed her hand and used his innate ability to shift between the planes. In a moment, the pair reappeared upon the red sands of Flamelust.

“What was that?” Sheyreiza asked, her voice trembling. “I felt a ... a hunger. In the dark I felt it, a presence. No, not a presence, just a .. a need.”

The demon frowned, obviously displeased, perhaps even shaken by the event. “It is the Abyss. It hungers for what is not there. When it consumes enough of anything, something new will form.”

“I will not believe she is destroyed.” Sheyreiza declared in a voice growing steadier and stronger. “Lolth lives. And if I am wrong, then I will be destroyed anyway so it matters not if I am mistaken.”

“Then she is gone as you said.”

Suddenly Sheyreiza felt light headed and dizzy. Closing her eyes, she fell to her knees in the red sand. She gripped her thighs, bent over and gasped for air. The disappearance of the Demonweb and the possibility that Lolth was actually gone was overwhelming. She took a deep breath, then another and another. As the dizziness passed, she looked up at Hartex; he was smiling.

“Enjoying my torment Hartex?” She asked from her knees in the sand.

“Of course I am.” He replied quite truthfully.

“So be it.” She cared not if the demon took pleasure in her plight. His sadism was a small thing to suffer in comparison to the stakes in play, which at this point appeared to be nothing less than the life of the Goddess Herself and the fate of the drow race.

The demon moved closer and stood towering above her. “But now I shall enjoy something else.” He announced; satisfaction and irony oozed from his baritone voice. “You are mine for a day here. Of course, you may find a day can be very long in the abyss. And we might as well start with you on your knees.”

She had briefly forgotten about this part of the bargain. The realization that she was now going to be his plaything nearly caused her to pass out again. She shuddered in fear and had to steady herself with her hands to keep from falling over. She reminded herself that Hartex’s sadism was a small thing to suffer in light of what was at stake, though she was not sure she believed that at this moment. “As you wish.” She said in a fragile voice. Looking up at the now naked form of Hartex’s drow body, she realized she had never seen the demon look so happy; or so terrifying.

[Zakharra]

I'm still wary of Hartex. I don't trust him and I know for a fact, that he'd love to rip Faerylene's throat out.... and I know that I was given to him...
*waits warily for Hartex*

Good story Mik.

[Laurelin]

Love the story, Mik. All of it. Hey, I'll even root for Sheyreiza becoming Yor'thae. Of course, she would have to survive first. And Lolth would have to come back in one piece.