Daughter of the Drow by Elaine Cunningham Read Free Book Online Page A

feet braced wide for balance. Bythnara echoed her stance in the stern, while Syzwick took a seat in the center for ballast. The boat was designed so two could hunt at a time, one on either end and well out of each other’s reach. The fish attacked even when impaled, and more than one drow had been bitten by his hunting companion’s speared catch. Whether by accident or design, who could say?
    Liriel took two small flasks from the bag at her waist and tossed one to Bythnara. The flasks were enspelled to keep the contents—fresh rothe blood—warm. Liriel opened her flask and poured a single drop of blood into the water. To the drow’s heat-sensitive eyes, the droplet appeared bright red. It would be visible for only a moment, for the icy waters would cool it quickly. Liriel readied her spear and watched intently. The glowing drop disappeared, suddenly and completely.
    Liriel’s spear flashed down into the water. She raised it triumphantly—a fish about the size of her hand thrashed and wriggled on the point. Pyrimo were impossible to see in the water, for their body temperature matched exactly that of the chill river. Clearly visible in the warmer air, the fish was a smooth oval, with silvery scales and delicate fins—a pretty thing, except for the steely, fanged jaws that spanned the width of its body.
    “Catch, Syzwick,” Liriel said casually, and with a flick of her spear she tossed the lethal fish toward the male. The drow paled and cringed away. No need: the fish slapped wetly into the box at his feet,
    “If you’d missed
    ” Syzwick began.
    Liriel sent him a saucy grin. “I haven’t yet! Don’t worry, love, the last thing I’d want to do is drop a hungry pyrimo in your lap,” she purred. “One bite, and you’d be no good to anyone.”
    Bythnara’s lips tightened; seeing this, Liriel suppressed a sigh. Her friend could be so possessive at times! Liriel had meant only to tease Syzwick a bit, knowing the handsome male appreciated bawdy humor. But Bythnara always mistook such remarks as statements of intent.
    Syzwick did not notice the female wizard’s peevish expression; he grinned lasciviously at Liriel and raised an eyebrow.
    “One bite?” he challenged.
    Liriel swept him with an appraising glance. “Perhaps two,” she allowed.
    Bythnara snorted and gave her flask of blood a vicious shake. Bright droplets scattered into the river.
    “Don’t put so much blood into the water at one time,” Liriel cautioned her sternly. She could tolerate Bythnara’s foul temper, but only up to a point. “You don’t want to start a frenzy.”
    That thought sobered the jealous young wizard, and for a long time the two females hunted in silence. Perched on the very tip of the boat, Liriel worked quickly, leaning out over the water and spearing one fish after another. She herself did not care for the pyrimo, beyond the challenge of the hunt, but the fish had another value to her that her companions could not begin to fathom. The prospect of another hazardous adventure beckoned Liriel this day, and she was too pleased with life to allow Bythnara’s snit to spoil her mood.
    The boat shifted slightly, and from the corner of her eye Liriel saw that Bythnara had seated herself and put aside her spear. The female grimaced and rubbed at her neck. She reached into her travel bag and removed a small vial. She poured some pungent liniment into her hand and began to massage the sides of her neck.
    A warning light flashed in LirieFs mind. She had hunted pyrimo many times, and well knew the strain caused by the watchful tension and lightning-fast spear thrusts. Bythnara was massaging the wrong muscles.
    For a moment Liriel felt a familiar, hollow feeling in her chest, the dull empty ache that came anew with each betrayal. She quickly thrust it aside and coolly, surreptitiously studied her childhood friend. As Liriel suspected, Bythnara’s massaging fingers moved in a complex, familiar pattern. The wizard was casting a spell. It