Brightening at the hope that he would indeed survive this dreadful day, Alton cared little about the figurine at that moment. All he wanted was to be freed of the webs so that he could find out the truth of his house’s fate. Then Masoj, ever a confusing young drow, turned suddenly and started away.

"Where are you going?" Alton asked.

"To get the acid."

"Acid?" Alton hid his panic well, though he had a terrible feeling that he understood what Masoj meant to do.

"You want the disguise to appear authentic." Masoj explained matter-of-factly. "Otherwise, it would not be much of a disguise. We should take advantage of the web while it lasts. It will hold you still."

"No!" Alton started to protest, but Masoj wheeled on him, the evil grin wide on his face.

"It does seem a bit of pain, and a lot of trouble to go through" Masoj admitted. "You have no family and will find no allies in Sorcere, since the Faceless One was so despised by the other masters." He brought the crossbow up level with Alton’s eyes and fitted another poisoned dart. "Perhaps you would prefer death."

"Get the acid!" Alton cried.

"To what end?" Masoj teased, waving the crossbow. "What have you to live for, Alton DeVir of No House Worth Mentioning?"

"Revenge." Alton sneered, the sheer wrath of his tone setting the confident Masoj on his heels. "You have not learned this yet―though you will, my young student―but nothing in life gives more purpose than the hunger for revenge!"

Masoj lowered the bow and eyed the trapped drow with respect, almost fear. Still, the apprentice Hun’ett could not appreciate the gravity of Alton’s proclamation until Alton reiterated, this time with an eager smile on his face, "Get the acid."

Four cycles of Narbondel―four days―later, a glowing blue disk floated up the mushroom-lined stone path to the spider-covered gate of House Do’Urden. The sentries watched it from the windows of the two outer towers and from the compound as it hovered patiently three feet off the ground. Word came to the ruling family only seconds later.

"What can it be?" Briza asked Zaknafein when she, the weapon master, Dinin, and Maya assembled on the balcony of the upper level.

"A summons?" Zak asked as much as answered. "We will not know until we investigate." Zak stepped up on the railing and out into the empty air, then levitated down to the compound floor. Briza motioned to Maya, and the youngest Do’Urden daughter followed Zak.

"It bears the standard of House Baenre." Zak called up after he had moved closer. He and Maya opened the large gates, and the disk slipped in, showing no hostile movements.

"Baenre," Briza repeated over her shoulder, down the house’s corridor to where Matron Malice and Rizzen waited.

"It seems that you are requested in audience, Matron Mother," Dinin put in nervously.

Malice moved out to the balcony, and her husband obediently followed.

"Do they know of our attack?" Briza asked in the silent code, and every member of House Do’Urden, noble and commoner alike, shared that unpleasant thought. House DeVir had been eliminated only a few days before, and a calling card from the First Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan could hardly be viewed as a coincidence.

"Every house knows." Malice replied aloud, not believing the silence to be a necessary precaution within the boundaries of her own complex. "Is the evidence against us so overwhelming that the ruling council will be forced to action?" She stared hard at Briza, her dark eyes alternating between the red glow of infra vision and the deep green they showed in the aura of normal light. "That is the question we must ask." Malice stepped up onto the balcony, but Briza grabbed the back of her heavy black robe to stay her.

"You do not mean to go with the thing?" Briza asked.

Malice’s answering look showed even more startlement. "Of course." she replied. "Matron Baenre would not openly call upon me if she meant me harm. Even her power is not so great that she can ignore the tenets of the city."

"You are certain that you will be safe?" Rizzen asked, truly concerned. If Malice was killed, Briza would take over the house, and Rizzen doubted that the eldest daughter would want any male by her side. Even if the vicious female did desire a patron, Rizzen would not want to be the one in that position. He was not Briza’s father, was not even as old as Briza. Clearly, the present patron of the house had a lot at stake in Matron Malice’s continued good health.

"Your concern touches me." Malice replied, knowing her husband’s true fears. She pulled out of Briza’s grasp and stepped off the railing, straightening her robes as she slowly descended. Briza shook her head disdainfully and motioned Rizzen to follow her back inside the house, not thinking it wise that the bulk of the family be so exposed to unfriendly eyes.

"Do you want an escort?" Zak asked as Malice sat on the disk.

"I am certain that I will find one as soon as I am beyond the perimeter of our compound." Malice replied. "Matron Baenre would not risk exposing me to any danger while I am in the care of her house."

"Agreed." said Zak, "but do you want an escort from House Do’Urden?"

"If one was wanted, two disks would have floated in." Malice said in a tone of finality. The matron was beginning to find the concerns of those around her stifling. She was the matron mother, after all, the strongest, the oldest, and the wisest, and did not appreciate others second-guessing her. To the disk, Malice said, "Execute your appointed task, and let us be done with it!"

Zak nearly snickered at Malice’s choice of words.

"Matron Malice Do’Urden" came a magical voice from the disk, "Matron Baenre offers her greetings. Too long has it been since last you two have sat in audience."

"Never," Malice signaled to Zak. "Then take me to House Baenre!" Malice demanded. "I do not wish to waste my time conversing with a magical mouth!" Apparently, Matron Baenre had anticipated Malice’s impatience, for without another word, the disk floated back out of the Do’Urden compound.

Zak shut the gate as it left, then quickly signaled his soldiers into motion. Malice did not want any open company, but the Do’Urden spy network would covertly track every movement of the Baenre sled, to the very gates of the ruling house’s grand compound.

Malice’s guess about an escort was correct. As soon as the disk swept down from the pathway to the Do’Urden compound, twenty soldiers of House Baenre, all female, moved out from concealment along the sides of the boulevard. They formed a defensive diamond around the guest matron mother. The guard at each point of the formation wore black robes emblazoned on the back with a large purple-and-red spider design―the robes of a high priestess.

"Baenre’s own daughters." Malice mused, for only the daughters of a noble could attain such a rank. How careful the First Matron Mother had been to ensure Malice’s safety on the trip!

Slaves and drow commoners tripped over themselves in a frantic effort to get far out of the way of the approaching entourage as the group made its way through the curving streets toward the mushroom grove. The soldiers of House Baenre alone wore their house insignia in open view, and no one wanted to invoke the anger of Matron Baenre in any way.

Malice just rolled her eyes in disbelief and hoped that she might know such power before she died.

She rolled her eyes again a few minutes later, when the group approached the ruling house. House Baenre encompassed twenty tall and majestic stalagmites, all interconnected with gracefully sweeping and arching bridges and parapets. Magic and faerie fire glowed from a thousand separate sculptures and a hundred regally adorned guardsmen paced about in perfect formations.