Spider and Stone

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"Show me your face, Zollgarza.”

The request echoed in the dark tunnel and surprised the young drow lurking there. Irritation stabbed him. He’d thought his movements had gone undetected by his prey.

Zollgarza stepped from a niche in the wall behind a wide stalagmite and faced Derzac-Rin, a male not much older than Zollgarza but taller and well built. His chiseled features showed signs of strain.

“How did you know?” Zollgarza asked.

Derzac-Rin drew his rapier and raised it, poised like the sharpest needle. “I knew you’d track me. All Fizzri’s lovers meet the same fate. Pride made me believe I would be different. As soon as she cast me out, I knew she’d send you to finish me. May I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

Derzac-Rin tightened his grip on the rapier hilt, as if to pour all of his pent-up hatred and rage into the weapon, that sheer force of willpower might save him when his skill surely could not. “Why does she favor you so?” he demanded.

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