Gauntlgrym by R.A. Salvatore Read Free Book Online Page B

she didn’t look back, though she expected that several years, perhaps many years, would pass before she again looked upon that place, which had been her home for more than half a decade.

    The roots tasted bitter—she couldn’t help but gag as she stuffed one after another into her mouth. But the Netherese would return, the elders assured her. They knew where she was and knew she carried the child of their leader.
    One old elf woman had tried to talk her into killing herself to be done with it.
    But that girl who had foolishly run back to her village instead of away was already dead.
    She felt the pangs in her abdomen soon after, the terrible convulsions, the tearing agony of childbirth through a body too young to accept it.
    But Dahlia didn’t make a sound, other than her heavy breathing as she worked her muscles and pushed with all her strength to get the beast child out of her. Covered in sweat, exhausted, she at last felt the rush of relief, and heard the first cries of her baby, of Herzgo Alegni’s son. The midwife placed the babeupon her chest and a mixture of revulsion and unexpected warmth tore at the woman as surely as the Shadovar had torn at her loins, as surely as his son had ripped her in birth.
    She didn’t know what to think, and took a tiny measure of comfort in hearing the women discussing their success, for she had beaten the return of the father and his brutes by several tendays.
    Dahlia rested back her head and closed her eyes. She couldn’t let them return. She couldn’t let them determine her life’s path.

    “You are not gone yet?” Sylora Salm surprised Dahlia almost as soon as she had exited her room. “I would have thought you halfway to the Sword Coast by now.”
    “Seeking to claim what fineries I’ve left behind, Sylora?” Dahlia replied. She paused to strike a pensive pose for just a moment before adding, “Take the mirror, and let it serve you well.”
    Sylora laughed at her. “It will prefer my reflection, I am sure.”
    “Perhaps true, though I doubt many would agree. But no matter, human, for soon enough, you will be old, gray, and haggard, while I am still young and fresh.”
    Sylora’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Dahlia clutched Kozah’s Needle a bit more tightly, though she knew the wizard wouldn’t risk the wrath of Szass Tam.
    “Peasant,” Sylora replied. “There are ways around that.”
    “Ah, yes, the way of Szass Tam,” Dahlia mumbled, and she moved suddenly right up to Sylora, face to face so that the woman could feel her breath hot on her face. “When you entwine with Themerelis and inhale deeply of him, does it feel as if I am in the room beside you?” she whispered.
    Sylora sucked in her breath hard and fell back just a bit, moving as if to slap Dahlia, but the young elf was quicker and had anticipated the reaction. “And you will be pallid and unbreathing,” she said as she cupped her free hand and grabbed Sylora’s crotch. “Cold and dry, while I remain warm and.…”
    Sylora wailed, and a laughing Dahlia spun away and skipped down the hall.
    The wizard growled at her in rage, but Dahlia spun back on her, all merriment flown. “Strike fast and true, witch,” she warned as she put Kozah’s Needle up in front of her. “For you get but one spell before I send you to a realm so dark even Szass Tam couldn’t drag you back from it.”
    Sylora’s hands trembled before her in nearly uncontrollable rage. She didn’t speak, of course, but Dahlia surely heard every word: This child! This impertinent elf girl! Her small breasts heaving with gasps as she tried to regain her composure, Sylora only gradually calmed and let her hands fall to her sides.
    Dahlia laughed at her. “I didn’t think so,” she said, then skipped down the hall.
    As she neared the keep’s exit, two corridors presented themselves. To the left lay the courtyard, where Dor’crae waited with the wagons, and to the right, the garden and her other lover.

    She had picked the spot