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C h a p t e r
T W E N T Y
F I V E
Her pack weighting her shoulders； her heart pounding； Waerva turned and peered about。 The cave stretched out before her and behind； with stalacnottites stabbing down from the ceiling and stalagmites jutting up from the uneven floor。 Nothing moved。
What； then； had she heard？ As if in response to her unspoken question； a drop of falling water plopped somewhere in the passages ahead。 It was one of the most mon sounds of the Underdark； and scarcely a harnotbinger of peril。
Waerva wiped sweat from her brow and scowled at her own jumpiness。 She had good reason to be edgy； though。 Everyone said it was suicide to travel the subterranean wilderness alone。
Sadly； thanks to the cursed goblin rebellion； she had little choice。 Benotcause of the desperate fighting all across the city； the clergy's incapacity was no great secret anymore。 Certainly Gromph had discerned it； which meant Triel no longer had anything to hide from him。 Surely； then； she would seek his counsel once more。
Waerva had been confident she could manipulate the frazzled matron mother； but she very much doubted she could fool the canny archmage。 Accordingly； she'd cleared out of the Great Mound and Menzoberranzan itself before her kinsman could start asking questions； and there she was； a solitary wayfarer hiking through a perilous wilderness。
But she was strong and cunning； and she'd survive。 She'd make her way to her secret allies； and everything would be all right。
She took four more strides； then heard another little sound； and this one wasn't falling water。 It sounded more like a stealthy footstep brushing stone； and it came from behind her。
She whirled and saw no one； then something stung her arm。 She pivnototed。 At her feet lay the pebble someone had thrown。 Soft； sibilant laughnotter rippled through the air。 From the sound of it； the merrymakers were all around her。
Why； then； couldn't she see them？
Adamantine mace at the ready； one wing of her piwafwi tossed back to facilitate the action of her weapon arm； Waerva advanced in the dinotrection from which the rock had e。 Weaving her way through the stalagmites； she reached the cavern wall without so much as glimpsing her attacker。 She caught a whiff of a familiar reptilian musk； though； and she knew。
Kobolds。 The horned； scaly undercreatures were small enough that it was relatively easy for them to hide amid the calcite bumps and spikes。
She turned once more； and despite herself； gave a start。 Evidently the kobolds lacked the patience to play their skulking game for very long； benotcause they were done hiding。 While her back was turned； they'd crept out into the open and there formed a ragged C…shaped line to pen her against the wall。
The brutes were Menzoberranyr thralls。 House brands and whip scars gave that fact away。 Indeed； a couple still wore broken shackles。 Waerva plainly wasn't the only one who'd fled the city。
She glared at the kobolds and said； 〃I'm a Baenre。 You know what that means。 Make way； or I'll strike you dead。〃
The undercreatures stared back at her for a moment； then lowered their eyes。 The line broke in the middle； making an exit。
Sneering； head held high； Waerva started for the opening。 For a moment； all was silent； then the reptiles laughed； screeched； and rushed her。
Bellowing a battle cry； she swung her mace； and every stroke smashed the life from a thrall。 But for every one she killed； there were dozens more hacking and beating at her legs。
Her knee screamed with pain； and she fell。 The kobolds swarmed over her