Surfacing Ch. 09

Shyntre stood up with her, feeling the anxiety come quickly as he made himself keep pace behind her and they left her quarters.

*****

In going back more slowly and carefully over this particular tunnel, Jaunda discovered that she had missed something. A mark, very close to where the ward threatened to press on her most primal fears again. Hardly more than a gouge in the rock, it was still deliberate and permanent until the next quake. It was a simple but perfect curve, like a scythe or a long claw.

She did not sense strong magic or psionics associated with it, but it made her look around, up, down, shutting out the nearby warning of the ward and focusing on possible exits from this tunnel.

After a time spent shifting to see everything from at least two or three different angles, she finally spotted it. Naturally camouflaged, it would require a short climb but it was big enough for either Illithid or Drow to crawl through.

*No time like the now,* she thought to herself and began scaling, an easy task for her but not beyond even a weakened mindflayer.

Her ring remained quiet as she edged toward the small portal, and Jaunda gave herself time to check for other concerns—wards, traps, entrenched creatures, basic slickness and unpleasant fungal spores. There was only a little bit of the last two.

And there were boot scrapes. Fresh marks, the one passing had ripped off part of the slime mold to leave the rock beneath bare.

Hadn't the Illithid been barefoot, with only Sirana's red cloak to cover it?

She could feel the familiar surge of energy, enhancing her senses and in classic response of a Red Sister. This was the first truly intriguing thing on her quest so far, and it sat before her. Her nose and her ears told her that the entrance was small, but it would open up farther back. It was a passageway to a new area of the Underdark.

Even so, she held herself still.

This might not be related to her task yet she wouldn't know if she didn't look. Perhaps she should not go in alone without back-up; she should return to her unit and bring them forward to watch the area more closely, now that she'd cleared it...

But it was too fresh. The one who'd made it could still be here.

The simple fact was that she hadn't cleared it, and she was best able to judge whether to risk more Red Sisters on a venture like this.

Jaunda drew her smallest dagger, its edge kept pressed to one bracer as she crawled into the close space, her eyes and her ears both seeming as if to grow twice their normal size as she made as if to be aware of every tiny shift of air while moving through. She needed to crawl on knees and elbows, breathing shallow and keeping her equipment from getting damaged or caught.

Soon enough, however, she reached the opening, slowly expanding to another tunnel where she could stand up.

Jaunda settled down into a position she could hold instead, and she waited for quite a long time, listening, breathing, sensing. Entering and exiting crawlspaces was always the most dangerous part of pursuing anything down a hole...

Given enough time, her keen attention to temperature and scent told her this was not cold or barren stone—creatures lived on this level, and there was water somewhere. Was there anything larger than a rodent present right now? That was harder to discern, especially when there lacked the wards and traps of larger, sentient beings, but Jaunda lived by her instincts and her intuition. There were no sentient watchers on this particular hole right now, though that could change given enough time.

The Lead cautiously looked out, still able to defend her head if necessary, and scanned all the varying shades of energy that her eyes could see. Aside from the shape of the rock, there were living mosses and lichens, insects and spiders, a rodent or two...even those small things were quite the change from the last tunnel just behind her, when she'd run into that ward and nothing else.

*So nearby, with this portal connecting the short distance between the two. Odd.*

The path to her left had a cave-in blocking most of the way, with water leaking down from somewhere above, though she wondered whether there could be yet another hidden path that way.

To her right was the open way, wide enough for two to walk abreast; she saw a bend to the left even before her dark vision gave out. This was a rather small dead-end, and an excellent place to herd and trap someone you might be pursuing...

...or a place to vanish if one was being pursued.

Jaunda pulled herself out of the hole, confident enough to stand and explore the area some, searching for more boot scuffs on the rocks.

When she saw none, she became suspicious.

If the other had been moving too fast to slip that badly once, then it was too fast to cover all other tracks except that one. If it had been a pursuit, there were no other tracks but that one.

*Planted?*

Who, though? Who would want her—or any sentient—to see that carved sign and then find that raw scuff mark?

Unless it really was a set up.

The silhouette had slipped out very near where the water covered any noise—that dead end she'd thought to check closer—and as her periphery picked it up, Jaunda flung the dagger already drawn, anticipating the dodge and flinging a web pellet with about the right lead against the far wall.

The figure stopped dead and flipped backward, a paff of sound signaling the pellet burst as magical, sticky web spread out quickly enough to snare her target's ankle. Jaunda was already moving forward and drawing, knowing anything that moved fast enough to nearly evade that throw had to be neutralized quickly.

Her opponent wore something, as Jaunda did, to blur the body's outline and make precise strikes more difficult, except it wasn't a cloak but something more form-fitting. Still, she could tell when it drew a short blade and made a smooth, practiced slashing motion; the figure was free of the web with just enough time to roll out of the way of a blade swing.

It just wasn't a blade strike Jaunda had chosen. Instead she flicked a wide arch of coughing powder over the entire dead-end—probably more than necessary but she wanted to be sure—and shifted back quickly to get out of the affected area even as she felt her own lungs itch. She wanted to break that silence and that speed, to see what it was she faced as she chose her next weapon.

The Red Sister had enough time to register that the suffering figure was roughly the correct size and shape for a Drow, though covered head to foot and the cough was voiceless and gave nothing else away.

Then she heard a distinct draw of a blade behind her and specifically blocking off that portal through which she'd come in the first place.

*Fuck.*

"This hasn't turned lethal yet, Drow," she murmured to the figure behind her. "Or your companion wouldn't be sucking air to keep making such noise."

The responding chuckle was definitely female, though the voice likely came through a mask like the other one. "Take three steps to your right and let him go, and non-lethal it shall remain."

Let...him go?

Jaunda's eyes shifted to the crouching, recovering Drow and only when he started to stand up did she see that the shape indeed matched a male Drow. A very acrobatic one. He was also wearing something soft which covered his face; it probably helped some against the powder as well. If she hadn't used "too much," then he might have shrugged it off even faster.

"Don't see many males doing backflips for no audience this far out," Jaunda commented dryly. "Who are you?"

"Step to your right," the female repeated. "We can talk, as you said, this hasn't turned lethal. Or...you can keep your back to me and keep threatening him, and we will see how that turns out."

Jaunda's frown deepened but she took those three steps, her other senses open for treachery as she kept her eyes on exactly where she stepped. She also took the opportunity to turn to face her challenger as the male coughed one last time and moved closer to his defender.

Both wore form-fitting, simple outfits that she bet granted much more flexibility than her leather armor and cloak. No scabbards hung off their waist but various weapons or tools were strapped to their limbs or their torso to minimize bulk. In candlelight, Jaunda bet the clothing would have been black.

Two against one, and the Lead counted that male dodger as a formidable flanker. Some of her own Red Sisters would have been hard-pressed to respond that fast and tumble away from a web pellet, and he had as many things strapped to him as the female. Jaunda still had options, but engaging them simultaneously in a sword or dagger fight wasn't one of them. No doubt they had surprises, just as she did.

"So talk," she said. "You sound like you are from the City, so you should know what I am."

The female nodded, the outline of her eyes and ears becoming more clear, though her white hair was covered along with her lower face and neck. "We do, Red Sister. And you seek something we can help you find."

Jaunda narrowed her eyes. "Oh? Tell me what I seek."

"The conclave," she answered simply.

There was a beat of silence, then Jaunda commented, "Sounds like a dangerous thing to seek out. Foolish, even."

"Tasks for the Valsharess often are, one or the other. More often both."

It was the male's turn to chuckle lowly, though he did not speak. Good to know that he wasn't mute.

"You're here to test me," the Lead stated flatly.

"Test within a test?" the female asked, shrugging one shoulder slightly. "It's something we do, though not at your queen's command."

"Easy to say. You have nothing to convince me otherwise."

The female's eyes flicked to her somewhat shorter male companion, and he nodded slightly. He showed Rausery both his gloved hands first, showing them empty, and slowly reached for something; the Lead wondered if she was being doubly foolish in deciding to wait and see what he attempted to draw out.

It was a shred of heavy fabric and a damaged but rune-marked bracer.

Jaunda frowned.

"May I draw out a light as well?" the male asked quietly; he had a pleasant voice. "Natural luminescence only, not fire or magic."

After a consideration, and a theory coming to her, she nodded. The masked male withdrew a soft-glowing stone from a tightly-closed pouch and held it just close enough to the items to confirm what Jaunda had begun to suspect.

The fabric was red, and the same type as what made up her own cloak. The bracer was one given to novices when they first started learning how to bypass wards.

Pieces of Sirana's gear.

"You pilfered before the recovery team?" she asked suspiciously. "You just *happened* to be nearby to find that bracer."

Neither commented on that, though the male held up the piece of cloak particularly. Jaunda's eyes considered it again and almost slapped her forehead as it struck her.

That piece of cloak wouldn't have been in the pile of damaged equipment; the Illthid had taken it, had been wearing it.

Had these two been watching the Illithid, too? They must have to have followed closely enough to retrieve a piece of Sirana's cloak somehow. But they hadn't stopped its escape.

"Tests within tests," the female murmured. "But not your queen's command."

"Whose?"

"We cannot trust you with that, yet. But we can help you on your 'dangerous and foolish' task. Someone besides us wants you to succeed, and the City needs what you can learn. The conclave is waiting for something, biding its time, but the whole knows now what that one Illithid knew."

Great. Potentially everything Kerse knew, or even Sirana.

"And you know this how?"

"We would need to show you."

"You keep saying 'we.'" Jaunda looked at the quieter male. "What is he, and what are you?"

The other female, not as tall or as physically strong as herself, stared at her eyes. "He is one of us. So am I."

Though Jaunda's psionic-sensing ring was not shrilling at her, the Lead might doubt that it was working properly... She had the thought that these were somehow Illithids masked as Drow, speaking in the collective as they often did, yet tricking her vision...maybe the male figure had never been moving as fast as he had, he was just an illusion.

Perhaps the male could actually read that on her face—or read her mind?—because he slowly moved to lift his mask.

"No," the female hissed at him.

"You are being too oblique," he said. "Too much mystique, leaving too much to her imagination."

Jaunda didn't know the face, though he looked more like a commoner than Noble blood—plainer but not in a distasteful way. His hair was cut close to the nape, as short as Jaunda's—though likely intentional, while hers had been a casualty in a magical blast—and his ears were wider, a bit more flared in the middle before coming to the tip. He looked healthy and intelligent, his body language bold and confident, and in sizing him up as she would any opponent, Jaunda had to think he'd be impressive even for a female soldier, despite his smaller frame.

The female next to him made a frustrated sound and made no move to remove her mask. "Fine. How would you convince a Red Sister?"

He passed the shred of cloak and the bracer to his companion and lifted empty hands, stepping forward with enough time and deliberate motion for Jaunda to be able to read his intent and stop him if she wished. She let him come closer, and he stood very, very close to her indeed—face-to-face if he'd been as tall as her—holding out his hands far enough for her to always know where they were.

"Take your time," he said with a small smile.

The other female crossed her arms and waited, and the Lead took that time to consider what she thought next of this development. He had a real Drow scent, healthy and male, the body heat matched both his size and the physical effort he'd shown earlier, and more than anything he reminded her somehow of her Sisters.

Jaunda reached up to take hold of his jaw, testing his substance—his flesh felt real. He didn't resist although the Lead easily sensed the female tense up, quite ready to defend him. He seemed to trust that she would.

Interesting.

The Red Sister cupped his crotch firmly with her other hand, getting a very good feel of him and mostly convinced that an Illthid offering a projected illusion wouldn't be able to get that right. But even if it somehow did, the minute detail of physical response in the male—the surprised facial tick, the change in scent and heart rate, the unconscious swell of the member in her palm and its increase in heat—fully convinced her that he was real and exactly as he appeared to be.

"Don't you dare, Red Sister," the female threatened with a very familiar kind of challenge. "He's not for you."

The masked female's scent souring in anger, though the male still kept his hands visible despite the groping. That together convinced Jaunda that these two really were individuals, not part of a collective. Unless it was a collective like the Sisterhood.

Jaunda smirked, released the male entirely and he stepped back, catching his breath and readjusting his crotch. He was partly erect through the relatively thin fabric but not outwardly embarrassed by it.

"Alright," the Red Sister said. "What do you want to show me?"

*****

Compulsion or not, Thena could still think about whatever she liked; though she had no doubt that if D'Shea had her way, she would control their very thoughts as well. As a case in point, the Corpora was disgusted that Panagan was so easily swayed by promises of shiny stones and new tricks.

But, truly, what did she expect? Panagan may have been involved in the three-cycle orgy in fucking Sirana, and in hunting Jael before her own initiation, but the subordinate also got her ass handed to her by Sirana in a pitched fight overseen by Elder Rausery herself. Sirana had broken Moria's knee in the first strike.

With a quiet, gruff sound, Thena set down the one blade she'd been sharpening after mending the leather of the hilt, and picked up another.

Just what did Sirana do to earn an evaluation fight like that so early on? Thena knew personally that Sirana could give good head, but not *that* good.

Though Panagan had beaten Sirana in capturing the newest recruit out of the wilderness, in hindsight it hadn't seemed to make much difference in Panagan's attitude toward D'Shea's favorite pet. She was still wary of the novice, careful what she said about that hunt, as if she was hiding something still. She also didn't seem that surprised to hear about what Sirana and Jael had done to gang up on her own Corpora. Not like Moria standing next to her.

Now Panagan was happy to be given some attention by D'Shea while Elder Rausery disowned them. Really, fuck them; Thena was glad the two youngest were both gone, even if things couldn't go back to normal quite yet.

Seeing Shyntre walk in had certainly brought back a lot of memories. Thena almost wished that one had been born female; having him within the actual Sisterhood rather than a novelty by association would have been glorious. Too much temper to rise to be one of the Leads, he certainly would have stayed somewhere around Thena's own rank, and they could have kept playing for a very long time.

The Corpora was beyond sure that he would never give up the way Panagan and Moria had, or learn to be as pliable as Suna, her little spy. Shyntre would be like Jael, but smarter, and equally ready to get angry. He was physically out-matched yet he kept trying... Thena sucked in a quiet breath as her middle heated up. It was such a turn-on.

As a group and with enough time, Thena and the others had almost pushed Sirana to that point—laughing, taunting, "bending" Sirana—but Thena figured Gaelan had been interfering, probably on D'Shea's order. The Elder didn't want her new student to get in the habit of going berserk, more's the pity.

Then, for some reason, the newly-molted pet had been sent out on more solo missions than she had any right to be as a novice. What in Lolth's name was what about? Among them, Thena had eventually figured, had to have been visiting that informant-Consort, the one D'Shea now kept like a *real* pet in her room. It had to be; otherwise where was the connection? The connection had to be Sirana, or D'Shea wouldn't be protecting him and no doubt keeping his many pleasures for herself.

The price had been high, but Thena was still glad that she had been able to hear the little darling squeal as she opened up that virgin netherhole between those perfect ass cheeks. He'd been so tight around her. It was likely the Consort would have become boring soon enough; a whimpering, limp fish with a loose, sloppy hole. She didn't see him fighting for very long, just like a lot of the males she had been sent to intimidate.

Honing a third edge to perfection, Thena sheathed the dagger and added it to their armory, looking around and satisfied that it was in order. She sighed; enough putting off her task given by D'Shea. She may hate it, but defying her so blatantly would not get her very far. It may even get her demoted.

Still, when she left the store room and began walking down the hall, she recognized Elder Rausery's purposeful stride sounding off the walls, as it did when she wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone. Another Drow—likely not a Red Sister—was with her.

There were only two non-Sisters in the cloister right now, and both were males Thena had fucked. She grinned to herself and moved to catch up.

"Elder Rausery!" she called, and to her glee, she saw that Shyntre had been passed from D'Shea to her preferred Elder some time recently. She was also delighted that he clearly remembered her and had been unable to hide it.

Things hadn't changed that much.

"Yes, Corpora," the Elder acknowledged in her level voice, "what does Elder D'Shea have you doing?"