Free Condemnation by Richard Baker Page A

almost filled the central floor of the great palace, its graceful dome rising overhead, chased in silver and jet with Lolth’s spider insignia. The shrine was lit with a sinister silvery radiance, the better to display the lavish wealth House Faen Tlabbar had expended in decorating the Spider Queen’s chapel. Nimor spared no admiration on the gold baubles and gem-encrusted images, though.
    Matron Mother Ghenni and two of her daughters abased themselves before the towering black idol of the silent goddess, groveling before Lolth, no doubt beseeching the Spider Queen to restore her favor to the House. No one else waited within. Apparently the matron mother felt that her guards and servants did not need to see her and her daughters prostrate themselves in their private adorations. Nimor’s information on Faen Tlabbar had once again been proven accurate.
    The assassin silently drew his rapier and advanced, eyeing his prey. Ghenni was a striking dark elf, a female with a voluptuous body and a sinuous grace that allowed her to carry her years better than many females a hundred years younger. He noted the dark glint of mail beneath her emerald robes, and smiled. Apparently even the matron mother of a strong House didn’t feel entirely safe in her own home without the Spider Queen’s protection.
    The matron mother paused in her observances, warned by something—a small sound, the flicker of a shadow, possibly just intuition. She raised herself up to her knees and looked around, wariness plain on her face.
    “Sil’zet, Vadalma,” she hissed. “We are not alone.”
    The two girls halted at once, still stretched out on the cold stone floor. They glanced about warily. Ghenni stood carefully, reaching for a wand at her belt.
    “Who are you?” she demanded. “Who dares intrude on our devotions?”
    Nimor made no answer but glided closer. The matron mother didn’t see him, he was certain of that, but just as he drew within sword reach, he felt a presence coalesce in the room. An unseen demonic force took shape in the air near the top of the dome.
    “Beware, Matron,” a cold voice hissed. “An assassin approaches you unseen.”
    To her credit, the Matron Mother of House Faen Tlabbar did not quail. As her daughters scrambled to their feet, Ghenni took two steps back and quickly gestured with her wand, snapping out a word of command. A sphere of roiling blackness hurled forth from the wand and burst behind Nimor in an inky blot of frigid shadows that lashed out like living things hungry for prey. The assassin ignored the spell, as he was already leaping forward. With a precise thrust, he ran the Faen Tlabbar through with his rapier. The blade was as black as night, a long stiletto of intangible shadowstuff that simply glided through the matron mother’s mail shirt as if the armor wasn’t even there. Its effect on the priestess was as lethal as one might expect. He twisted the blade in her heart and grinned, though she still could not see him.
    “Greetings, Matron Mother,” he hissed aloud. “Perhaps you will find the answers you were seeking when you reach Lolth’s black hells.”
    Ghenni gasped once and coughed blood. She staggered back, clutching at the blade in her heart, and her eyes rolled up in her head and she toppled to the floor. Nimor withdrew his rapier and whirled on the daughter on the left, Sil’zet, while the demon took shape over Ghenni’s body. It was a skeletal creature wrapped in green flames, armed with a black-glowing scimitar of pale bone.
    The demon evidently could see him perfectly, for it set on Nimor at once. It aimed a ferocious cut at his head, which he simply ducked, but the creature reversed its blade with surprising speed and backhanded a second cut waist high. Nimor scowled and skipped back, momentarily thwarted. Behind the demon, he saw Sil’zet unrolling a scroll to read, while Vadalma held her ground, stooping to retrieve her mother’s wand while guarding herself with a