"Realms of the Underdark 2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthologies)

Malice made a sound of disgust. "Perhaps you were given the mantle of high
priestess too soon, Briza, if a child - and a boy child at that - knows more
than you."
Briza started to stammer an apology, but Malice turned away. She bent over the
boy, gripping his chin tightly in her hand, lifting his head with cruel force.
The cup fell from his fingers, and wine spilled across the floor like dark
blood. She gazed into the boy's eyes, holding them by force of will, so they
could not look elsewhere. His eyes were an unusual color. Lavender. As always,
Malice wondered at this. What did they see that other eyes did not?
"Tell me what else you know about the Festival," she commanded.
The boy stared at her in mute terror. She tightened her grip, her fingers
digging into his flesh.
"Tell me!"
Despite his fear, Drizzt managed to speak. "I don't really know anything else,"
he breathed. "Except that on the festival day, you have to be nice to everybody,
even goblins and bugbears, because there's no telling what shape Lloth might put
on. That's all."
She searched his strange purple eyes a moment more, then nodded, satisfied he
spoke truth. He was peculiar, this youngest son of hers, and difficult to train
in the most basic matters of behavior and respect. However, there was a power in
him. She sensed it. Right now it was unshaped. But if she could forge it with
her will and temper it with the proper experiences, he would be a powerful
weapon in her hands one day.
Malice released the boy. Drizzt stared in confusion until Dinin, face angry,
motioned for him to return to his side. No doubt Dinin would punish the boy
later for embarrassing him with disobedience, as it was his role to instruct the
boy in the proper manners of a page prince. Malice would not intervene. That was
Dinin's right. And it would only strengthen the boy.
Malice addressed her family then. "Child though he is, Drizzt is correct. The
tale is not simply a legend, though many believe it to be. On the Festival of
the Founding, the Spider Queen will indeed appear somewhere in the city. And if
she were to appear within a noble house that house would know great honor and
would surely prosper in the coming year." Her voice dropped to a self-pleased
purr. "And my plan will make certain it is House Do'Urden where Lloth chooses to
appear." Zaknafein laughed at this. "With all due respect, you are very sure of
yourself, Matron Mother." "As well I should be," Malice snapped. What had she
done to be cursed with such precocious males? At least Dinin knew his place.
"How do you intend to bring Lloth here?" Briza asked in meek tones, clearly
attempting to regain her mother's favor.
Malice let Briza believe she had succeeded. "With this," she answered. From her
gown, she drew out a small, dark stone carved in the shape of a spider. A single
red ruby glistened on its abdomen. "This spiderjewel will lead whoever bears it
to the resting place of an ancient and holy relic-a dagger once wielded by
Menzoberra, she who founded our city in the name of Lloth so long ago. I have
been assured by the one who gave me this spiderjewel that, were we to regain the
Dagger of Menzoberra, Lloth would certainly grace us with her presence as a
reward."
The others absorbed this information and nodded- except for Zaknafein, who again
asked a skeptical question. "And how did you come by this information and this
jewel?"