Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(75)

“The gym, perhaps?” asked Zak. “You and I, as it once was.”

Impossible! Drizzt wanted to shout. Never again would it be as it once was. Drizzt held those thoughts to himself and nodded his assent. “I would enjoy that,” he replied, secretly wondering how much satisfaction he would gain by cutting Zaknafein down. Drizzt knew the truth of his people now, and knew that he was powerless to change anything. Maybe he could make a change in his private life, though. Maybe by destroying Zaknafein, his greatest disappointment, Drizzt could remove himself from the wrongness around him.

“As would I,” Zak said, the friendliness of his tone hiding his private thoughts-thoughts identical to Drizzt’s.

“In a week, then,” Drizzt said, and he pulled away, unable to continue the encounter with the drow who once had been his dearest friend, and who, Drizzt had come to learn, was truly as devious and evil as the rest of his kin.

“Please, my matron,” Alton whimpered, “it is my right. I beg of you!”

“Rest easy, foolish DeVir,” SiNafay replied, and there was pity in her voice, an emotion seldom felt and almost never revealed.

“I have waited-.”

“The time is almost upon you,” SiNafay countered, her tone growing more threatening. “You have tried for this one before?’

Alton’s grotesque gawk brought a smile to SiNafay’sface. “Yes,” she said, “I know of your bungled attempt on Drizzt Do’Urden’s life. If Masoj had not arrived, the young warrior would probably have slain you?”

“I would have destroyed him!” Alton growled.

SiNafay did not argue the point. “Perhaps you would have won,” she said, “only to be exposed as a murderous imposter, with the wrath of all of Menzoberranzan hanging over your head!”

“I did not care!”

“You would have cared, I promise you!” Matron SiNafay sneered. “You would have forfeited your chance to claim a greater revenge. Trust in me, Alton DeVir. Your -our- victory is at hand!”

“Masoj will kill Drizzt, and maybe Dinin,” Alton grumbled.

“There are other Do’Urdens awaiting the fell hand of Alton DeVir,” Matron SiNafay promised.

“High priestesses.” Alton could not dismiss the disappointment he felt at not being allowed to go after Drizzt. He badly wanted to kill that one. Drizzt had brought him embarrassment that day in his chambers at Sorcere; the young draw should have died quickly and quietly. Alton wanted to make up for that mistake.

Alton also could not ignore the promise that Matron SiNafay had just made to him. The thought of killing one or more of the high priestesses of House Do’Urden did not displease him at all.

The pillowy softness of the plush bed, so different from the rest of the hard stone world of Menzoberranzan, offered Drizzt no relief from the pain. Another ghost had reared up to overwhelm even the images of carnage on the surface: the specter of Zaknafein.

Dinin and Vierna had told Drizzt the truth of the weapon master, of Zak’s role in the fall of House DeVir, and of how Zak so enjoyed slaughtering other drow-other drow who had done nothing to wrong him or deserve his wrath.

So Zaknafein, too, took part in this evil game of drow life, the endless quest to please the Spider Queer.

“As I so pleased her on the surface?” Drizzt couldn’t help but mumble, the sarcasm of the spoken words bringing him some small measure of comfort.

The comfort Drizzt felt in saving the life of the elven child seemed such a minor act against the overwhelming wrongs his raiding group had exacted on her people. Matron Mal. ice, his mother, had so enjoyed hearing the bloody recounting. Drizzt remembered the elven child’s horror at the sight of her dead mother. Would he, or any dark elf, be so devastated if they looked upon such a sight. Unlikely, he thought.

Drizzt hardly shared a loving bond with Malice, and most draw would be too engaged in measuring the consequences of their mother’s death to their own station to feel any sense of loss.

Would Malice have cared if either Drizzt or Dinin had fallen in the raid? Again Drizzt knew the answer. All that Malice cared about was how the raid affected her own base of power. She had reveled in the notion that her children had pleased her evil goddess.

What favor would Lloth show to House Do’Urden if she knew the truth of Drizzt’s actions? Drizzt had no way to measure how much, if any, interest the Spider Queen had taken in the raid. Lloth remained a mystery to him, one he had no desire to explore. Would she be enraged if she knew the truth of the raid? Or if she knew the truth of Drizzt’s thoughts at this moment?

Drizzt shuddered to think of the punishments he might be bringing upon himself, but he had already firmly decided upon his course of action, whatever the consequences. He would return to House Do’Urden in a week.

He would go then to the practice gym for a reunion with his old teacher.

He would kill Zaknafein in a week. Caught up in the emotions of a dangerous and heartfelt decision, Zaknafein hardly heard the biting scrape as he ran the whetstone along his sword’s gleaming edge.

The weapon had to be perfect, with no jags or burrs. This deed had to be executed without malice or anger.

A clean blow, and Zak would rid himself of the demons of his own failures, hide himself once again within the sanctuary of his private chambers, his secret world. A clean blow, and he would do what he should have done a decade before.