Free Skein of Shadows by Marsheila Rockwell

antiquities. Sabira almost felt guilty for being utterly uninterested. Almost.
    “The reference to ‘Her’ also correlates to the first bit of Prophecy,” he said, briefly holding up another chunk of stone with more of the same writing on it, though it was black and glossy where the first was a dull gray. “Though we’ve yet to fully understand who or what ‘She’ is, though ‘Spinner of Shadows’ would seem to indicatea weaver of some sort. A female spider deity peculiar to the Umbragen, perhaps—or at least to a splinter group thereof? My guess—”
    “I thought the drow in Xen’drik worshiped scorpions, not spiders?” Greddark interrupted with a frown.
    Ir’Dayne shrugged. “Well, scorpions and spiders are in the same class of animals, so it’s not as much of a stretch as it might appear. Add into that the fact that worship of an exclusively male deity like Vulkoor would naturally tend to alienate the female portion of the population, and it isn’t too surprising that worship of a similar, but more feminine aspect of the divine arachnid would gain a foothold among some of the drow. Those that worship the genderless Umbra are actually the most interesting of the three, since—”
    The halfling caught himself, realizing he’d gone off on a tangent. He took another pull on his pipe before righting his course.
    “In any case, though we don’t know the exact form this artifact takes, it seems clear it can only be unlocked—and probably wielded—by a female member of House Deneith, so we informed Baron Breven of our findings, and offered to help him recover it—for a small fee, of course.”
    Of course.
    “And I believe you know the rest.”
    Sabira highly doubted that, but she figured she knew enough, at least.
    “Although there is one more thing …,” he added, digging again at the mound of papers, coming up with an old tattered bit of cloth pressed between two thin sheets of glass. “Ah, yes. Here it is.
    “This was recovered in Waterworks beneath theStormreach harbor. I believe it’s variant of the same Prophecy.”
    He brought the glass-encased strip of fabric up to his face and squinted to read it. Sabira could see it was part of an ancient tapestry, though the writing was different from that of the other bits of Prophecy she’d seen.
    “Then again,” ir’Dayne said, as if reading her mind, “since it’s written in a little known dialect of the ancient giants, I can understand why some of the others think differently. But I thought you should know about it, since it may change the nature of your mission.
    “Her fate known e’re she graced the womb
    Her birth signals her people’s doom
    Her blood that both of stone and shield
    The world will be her killing field.”

CHAPTER SIX
Wir, Barrakas 4, 998 YK
Stormreach, Xen’drik .
    I t doesn’t necessarily mean what you think it means, you know.”
    Sabira didn’t look over at the inquisitive, instead keeping her gaze on the city of Stormreach spread out below them. As the
Seeker
skimmed through the air toward Falconer’s Spire, Sabira couldn’t help but marvel, as always, at the architectural medley that was Stormreach. Remnants of giantish ruins, scavenged hulls from sunken ships, floating towers reminiscent of Sharn, Thrane curves and Karrnathi angles all coexisted in a surprisingly cohesive tapestry of colors, textures, and shapes. It was, in its own very peculiar way, beautiful.
    Though she’d only been gone a couple of months, it still seemed as if the city had reinvented itself entirely in that time, with walls and buildings springing up where she didn’t remember there being any before. But that was the way of Stormreach, as it was of the inhabitants who lived here—constantly changing, ever growing, always surprising. It was what attracted so many explorers andadventurers to this vast continent, and what kept them coming back. No matter what it had been like when they left, they could be guaranteed it would be different