Surfacing Ch. 09

"And some interrogation training might help temper that. You get angry because you have zero choice in this matter and want to punish them for it, right?"

He swallowed again and Rausery nodded without his having to answer aloud.

"So practice self-control on the Nobles, if it's all you have. I shouldn't have to tell you that, wizard, unless you want to accelerate down this path without having any idea what's coming for you."

He was silent for a few moments. "I...don't know how long this will go on, or what She wants. The time head...the prospect is...bearing me down."

"Sounds like perfect training on the Valsharess's part," Rausery said flatly and the young male winced. Then she leaned forward on her elbows, drawing his attention so she could hold his gaze. "Listen. I'm only going to say this once. You're looking too deep into the black, boy. You need to learn to pull back and find something closer to focus on. That talk about the Abyss staring back at you if you peer into it too long isn't just metaphor."

Shyntre felt something at once hot and very cold spread through him as he thought it over. "Yes, Elder. Any...training you are able to grant me, I would be grateful."

"We'll get to that. I understand you're also here to copy my notes from this last trip to the Surface."

"Yes, Elder."

"And you'll need escort to and from the Tower a few times to see to the archiving."

"Yes, Elder."

"Just like old times, eh?"

Shyntre felt a sudden, strong tug at the corner of his mouth when she smiled at him. "Yes, Elder."

"You should know I'm pleased with the degree of language skill you were able to pass on to my young Sisters, instructor."

He swallowed, feeling that rare, unusual, and uncomfortable warmth in his chest again, banishing the previous chill. It was ultimately welcome, each time, even if it did feel like he was stepping to close to some foolish ledge. "I'm glad you're pleased, Elder. May I ask how the training fared?"

"Fared well. All three acclimated appropriately. Sirana had that extra practice with you, she grew most confident speaking in Surface Common, and that helped Jael and Gaelan. You performed your task well for the time you'd been allowed."

He bowed his head in thanks.

"Qivni says you might also be here as leverage for whatever D'Shea wants with the Consort, or vice versa, the Consort is here for whatever leverage she wants with you. Either of those theories hold water, in your opinion?"

Shyntre held still, his eyes down as he reflected that he didn't want to talk about this, even with Rausery. "They both do, Elder, but rather than speculate now, you could wait until I've shared an eve meal with the two of them, as my mother asked and I agreed. I might know more then."

Rausery nodded, seeming pleased at this. "Yeah, Qivni mentioned that, too. Alright. Any other purposes to your being here, known or suspected?"

"The queen desired it. She was waiting for D'Shea to come ask for me, and wanted me to give a reason why it should be allowed."

"And your reason?"

"Archiving your notes. D'Shea's reason, too."

Rausery smirked. "Does the Valsharess know you have a connection with the only surviving Consort?"

Shyntre pursed his lips tightly; he'd heard gossip from a few Nobles about what was happening outside, but wasn't sure whether to believe that all of the Sanctuary breeding males would die, even those without demonic blood. But Rausery had just confirmed the worst of it. "No, She does not."

"At least you presume so."

"I am not easily read, Elder. You and my sire helped see to that."

She nodded. "So, not yet, perhaps. The Prime will hear about it, though, not a lot D'Shea or I can do about that except in downplaying it."

The wizard felt his heart start pounding, and he lifted his eyes to look at the Elder. She smirked.

"Easy, Shyntre. The Valsharess already granted him a stay of execution or he wouldn't still be here. A favor to the Priestesses, and to D'Shea's contact Lelinahdara especially, I believe. I might think it better to see how long we can go without mentioning it to the Prime, but I'm not optimistic. Still, I'd ask your mother what her plans are, because she had to have known that just the act of retrieving you from the Palace would cause a realization of connection, such as Qivni dug up in one conversation."

Shyntre felt his hands quivering again and he nodded. "I hear you, Elder. I will."

"Good. I've also told Qivni to stay quiet for now about that connection, and you can trust her to do so. If you can refrain from confessing it to anyone else, we might have more time to work with it."

A swallow. "I understand, Elder."

"Good. Let me show you some of my notes, and we can talk about this last trip to the Surface. I'll even tell you how Sirana performed."

*****

Jaunda wasn't far from her unit—they'd be able to hear a summons or a warning in a message pellet from her—but it was, somehow, too quiet as she crept over stone that appeared to have been stopped in mid-ripple. The different wavelengths of minerals and elements of this particular rock looked to her eyes like swirling streaks and curls of liquid seized and petrified. She supposed that it had once the lava flow had passed and the melted rock had cooled at some time in the recent past.

She was checking this swath of wilderness looking for the first signs of inhabitance; she did not want to miss some and find herself far too close to a mindflayer conclave to be able to retreat.

The past few months had not bourn much fruit in the way of accomplishing her mission, but the Lead wasn't roaming around at random. She could do little but follow and learn more of the existing patterns in the direction where the Illithid had escaped.

She had a ring on her finger than would warn her of active psionic energy a good distance out—about as hard to create as the mindflayer's suppression collar but the Prime and Priestesses had seen it done, following the Valsharess's orders to support Jaunda's efforts. It could not fully protect her, though it did enhance the mental discipline and willpower of the wearer—and hers was formidable.

The conclave had to be farther out than some Drow had worried; it was possible still that the Illithid hadn't made it back to its own kind, though the Red Sister could not stop searching if she could not confirm that. Confirming it would be impossible unless she stumbled on an uneaten body or skeleton with a Red Sister's cloak at least partially intact....which, after a certain amount of time, would itself be impossible anywhere in the Underdark. Something always found its meal, no matter the condition.

Jaunda had come to understand only since the second trial, when her three subordinates had been sentenced along with her, and learned from the Prime herself that the Illithid battle a couple years ago had been in response to their fellow's capture. The Prime had originally told the Sisterhood the Illithids were present only to capture Drow slaves. While they most certainly would take prisoners if given the opportunity, the Illithids had also been answering the last call of distress from their mindmate.

There had been a time lapse between those two events, the capture and the battle; a few weeks—for unknown reason—but Jaunda knew now that the securing of an Illithid prisoner had definitely come before the attack and the battle in Drow territory. Once the Red Sisters had arrived on the scene, the Drow army had decimated the thralls; the Sisters had collapsed the escape route and poisoned then burned the bodies of the three psiomancers controlling them.

Knowing where the thralls had attacked and where the prisoner had actually been held...Jaunda had to commend the effectiveness of the Drow-magic in the suppression collar that Kerse had broken to cause that explosion. The thrall attack had been on the wrong side of the City, and it would have been impossible to reach the warded, Drider-trapped cave to rescue a prisoner without passing through the entire Drow civilization and everything the Valsharess would then throw at them.

The Lead soon came to a point that was the farthest out and down she'd ever been from the City. She was no stranger to multi-cycle trips out from civilization, but it was in the opposite direction she normally went with her unit, toward the upper Underdark and the Surface. This was a barren area with a history of low activity and little trouble; if another Red Sister had ever needed to see what was on the other side, Jaunda hadn't been able to find out about it. The Prime didn't even have many records on exploration in this area.

On the whole, the Valsharess kept exploration limited; certainly such things were a strain on resources. The Surface treks were overall rare, and part of an unknown larger plan that no one in the general population City really knew or dreamed about. Patrols around the City and the Drider pits, yes. Meeting limited trade caravans on neutral ground, yes. Revisiting areas of known Duergar activity or contested resources with any other race, yes. The very occasional shot straight up toward the Surface...yes.

But this area? Dead, and black, and quiet. Yet it remained the only direction with any sign of the Illithid just after its escape. Jaunda just didn't like how far she was needing to go out each time, how much she had to prepare, and how little there was for her to sense.

There was only the one psionic ring, so Jaunda always took lead as scout, and most of the time returned empty-handed back to where her unit was staked out at her last stopping point. They were her lifeline, but the farther out they went, the more dangerous it was for all of them with no guarantee of finding sign of what they sought.

When she felt something at last this time, it was immediate and she doubted nothing of her instincts at all. She listened to all her senses at once and knew enough to stop and ease backward quietly to where cleared rock would protect her back. No weapons drawn yet, but she was ready to pull what tool she needed.

*You Know You Are Uninvited. Go No Farther.*

Jaunda drew in a slow breath; her heart sped up briefly but long practice soon had that under control; few even in the Underdark would be able to hear it. Still, this one sensed her sentience, not purely her breath, her heart, or the flow of her blood.

Yet she knew it was not the psionic race that she sought. The ring on her finger was completely inert, despite the voiceless words that passed along the surface of her mind like a hot breath. The deepest, oldest part of her recognized a magical ward in one of its purest forms. She was not even sure if it was arcane or divine, either. None of her other indicators went off.

Her knees felt weak.

Jaunda left the area quickly, in silence, the control of her breathing of utmost importance. The tunnel remained still and quiet behind her, and nothing followed. She made it halfway back to her unit before she stopped, crouching somewhere defensible, and took a full breath, running a hand nervously through her short hair. She had to acknowledge the fact that she was shaking; that didn't happen to her often, but there was a good reason here.

No wonder the queen did not explore this area. There was something very old down here, something she did not want to fully awaken.

Surely the Illithid had not made it past that ward...?

But she knew after all this time this was the only direction with physical and psionic sign; the Illithid might cover its tracks in other ways, but its feeding multiple times before entering this area had left certain impressions at the spot of each kill. Not only was skull-cracking and brain-eating messy but the energy surge lingered in a way that could be measured, once Jaunda learned how to listen to the band on her finger. Illithids were intelligent, they knew strategy in groups...but individual Illithids were not wilderness survivors, and the escaped prisoner had left a very clear line of kills leading to this particular darkness.

Could the Illithids have an agreement with the sleeper, to be allowed to pass somehow? Or had she missed another exit from this tunnel between here and there?

She'd have to go over it one more time before heading back to her unit.

*****

Auslan patiently plucked creases and wrinkles out of the semi-damp bed sheet hung to dry at the back of D'Shea's quarters, smoothing them out as he used a cantripped warming stone, boosted by his own body heat, to help the process. The stone had been a small gift from his Elder, not for any special reason except perhaps that she saw the focus and increased efficiency in this one task helped to keep him from obsessing over minor imperfections in her personal belongings that he could do nothing about, and she certainly wouldn't.

The former Consort had not expected that Shyntre would have been brought directly here upon his arrival—indeed, he hoped that would not be the case, because it would be a bad sign for D'Shea to be doing something so obvious.

For the first time since telling Sirana that he would wait for her, that he would stay alive as long as he could, the waiting seemed to offer Auslan some tiny bit of contentment. Just knowing that the meeting with his brother was inevitable, and accepting—despite his fear—that this was something that Auslan wanted had brought a calm feeling to him now that he hadn't known since Jaunda had abducted him from his safe, comfortable room at House Itlaun.

Auslan admitted to himself a certain satisfaction guessing that Elder D'Shea would show up to tell him of Shyntre's presence in the cloister, not realizing that he already knew; she would tell him that eventually they would meet, and what would happen next. Or at least...what she ostensibly wanted out of it.

And then she did exactly that.

"Nice work," she commented, looking over his shoulder where he kneeled in front of the bed sheet. "The stone helps."

He had acknowledged her arrival as always, speaking her title and name and setting down the stone so nothing was in his plainly visible hands. But unlike the Matrons and their Noble daughters, D'Shea had far less interest in requiring any kind of formal bow or other ritual whenever she walked into her own living quarters. A practical show of obedience was enough for her, whatever made sense in context, and she let him choose it based on what was comfortable in his previous training.

Even with his developing "habits" and his troubling dreams, Auslan was still self-aware enough to realize that the fact he *could* choose the obedience gesture, with or without her blessing, meant that he was not a mental invalid yet.

"Thank you, Elder. And yes, it does." He had turned slightly on his knees and was looking up at her. He waited.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, Elder."

He consumed mostly the Sisterhood's long-term travel stores nowadays, it being shelf-stable and easy for D'Shea to leave with him to feed himself. As he was unused to the rough, bland, and redundant diet, and adding to it his fitful sleep which would often steal his appetite, he was eating less anyway.

Oddly, in that moment, D'Shea seemed to notice. She really looked at him, head to feet, and narrowed her eyes in thought. "You've become thinner."

Auslan offered a tiny shrug. "I do not move around much, I do not need to eat often."

The Elder seemed to consider a few things but did not share them before she turned away to remove her cloak and gloves near her desk. She sighed and spoke a bit after that, shaking her head slightly. "I told you I'm not known for keeping pets, Auslan. What do you need? Do you want to leave my quarters now and then to exercise?"

The thought was terrifying, knowing what lay on the other side of that heavily warded door. He blinked his widened, copper eyes and shook his head. "Just wander the Red Sisters' cloister mostly naked?"

An unexpected smile came to D'Shea's face. "Point. The problem is that no one is allowed to enter my quarters when I'm not here—"

They both shared a look that clearly acknowledged Rausery and Qivni dragging him out a few weeks ago as a rare exception.

"—and I do not have the time or regular schedule to bring you fresher food and escort you around outside."

"I am afraid I have no solutions for you, Elder," he said, "I am still grateful to stay here, even if you would trust none other with my care. You will not hear me complaining."

D'Shea's mouth tightened. "I lost all three I would have considered, Auslan. Gaelan would have been perfect to tend you. She had been allowed in here during my absence."

Auslan vaguely remembered that Sister's face; she'd arrived with Sirana a few times for reports. Shyntre had mentioned that she was one of those who'd gone to recover Sirana and stop Kerse, and one of those punished by the Valsharess for doing so—one of those he had been in the cloister to teach.

Gaelan, Jaunda, Sirana...all three that D'Shea had been grooming. Intentional on the Valsharess's part, to force an Elder to start over in her closest support, as the Priestesses were? Auslan had to think so, on some level—even if it was just a side benefit to a larger plan.

"Gaelan had earned your trust?" he asked, mostly because their conversations were the best care she could offer him, even if she would not likely acknowledge it.

"There was little she could do to betray me," she answered thoughtfully. "But yes, she also earned it. She would never climb truly high, she knew it, but she could be content as the scroll at my right with Jaunda and her physical prowess at my left."

They both moved almost automatically as she spoke; Auslan got off the floor and slowly settled himself cross-legged on her mattress—straightening and smoothing the sheets as he did so—while D'Shea took her desk seat, leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. This particular arrangement was not the first time.

"What place had you for Sirana?" he asked. "If neither the right nor the left..."

"The point." She smirked at his bewildered expression. "Out in front, the first contact in a variety of situations, both following orders and responding independently to the events, gaining information." She paused. "At least, until she grew more cautious with age. With the right experience and barring the usual pitfalls, she would be either a rival or a peer...or both." D'Shea shrugged. "By then, I may welcome the change."

Auslan felt himself smiling a bit; he kept his eyes on the Elder and she didn't make him look down. "Does Rausery have a point? Her left is Qivni, and her right...?"

"Me, actually." D'Shea shook her head with a chuckle. "All her magical tools and talents have come from me. And she doesn't want to lose me. She has a few others she uses in the role of point, short-term like I do, but she realized too late she should have tried harder to claim my chosen novice for herself two years ago. Although, you well know, the Valsharess ultimately helped her out by sending her to the Surface where Rausery would train her in her image. It will be hard to modify if Sirana returns."

"You think she might?" Auslan asked. "It has been a long time already. Did not she have just the one task?"

"So does Jaunda, and yet she's still working. No telling how long the travel alone may take. I doubt you can conceive well of the distance of which we speak, Auslan."

Now he looked down and conceded the point with a nod.

"Look up, Consort."

He did, and the Elder Sister smirked at him again, locking eyes to the point that it made his skin crawl.

"I've been thinking about your mannerisms."

"My...mannerisms, Elder?"

"Certainly the taunt with Qivni, but ever since then, small things here and there, while we talk like this, which remind me of my favored novice. You aren't even aware of it."