"Can you help us find a missing person?"

Teysa hesitated. Every instinct she had was screaming for her to confront the Eel and demand Father Tuubel's return, but the guards that surrounded the throne were taking an interest now, and she could feel the prickle of eyes on the back of her neck. She took a deep breath, swallowed her anger, and **** herself to smile.

"Well, milady," she began, "we came to you because you are known to be very knowledgeable. You have your finger on the pulse of the market, people say, and you always keep your eyes open. If anyone knows what's going on, it's you."

The Eel nodded and spun one finger in a "yes, move on," gesture, but the ghost of a smile was tugging her lips upward.

"Well," Teysa continued, "it's my... grandfather. He's a priest of Agamor, you know, a very devout old man. He gets confused sometimes. He wanders off. Sometimes he does things that may seem rude or... or untrustworthy, but he's harmless. We just don't want anything bad to happen to him. You haven't seen him, have you?" She tried to sound sweet and innocent, like a girl-child from a fable. She knows, she thought, and she knows I know she knows...

The Eel inspected her fingernails at considerable length. Teysa held her breath, and she was aware of a general tension in the air as well, as though a dozen pairs of lungs were holding their own. Finally, and with an expression of terminal boredom, the Eel looked up at her and arched one eyebrow. "I thee a lot of people," she said. "My plathe ith very popular. I can have my people look into it. In the meantime, why don't you hang around?"

Teysa's hand drifted towards her mace, but a sudden shift in the postures of the nearest guards indicated that further activity in that direction might cause comment. Instead she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and bowed. "Certainly, milady," she said. "Thank you for your assistance." She tried to withdraw, but a pair of armored guards had stepped into her path and now stood leering at her. The Eel appeared to have something on her mind.

"Thinthe I'm doing a favor for you, my dear, perhapth you could entertain me while we wait." Once again she stared at her fingertips. "I'd love to thee you danthe. You have the figure for it."

The abrupt change of topic threw Teysa for a loop. "Dance, milady?" she asked. "What do you--"

"No need to be tho modetht, Teytha," the Eel said. "What ith battle but a danthe of ****? And you mutht have moved divinely when you thlaughtered thothe lithardth for me." She gestured with one hand at the stage. The dancers there fled into the shadows. Guards parted along a path between Teysa and the stage. She looked back and forth from the platform to the drow, trying to tell if this was a joke, but the Eel's expression was deadly serious.

"Milady is kind, but I'm not really a dancer," Teysa said. "I'm afraid I would bore you. I could perhaps--"

"Nonthenthe," said the Eel, and now her voice had a hard edge to it. Her smile was back, but it was a predator's grimace. Her teeth glittered in the torchlight. "Go on, we're all agog to thee you." She gestured with her hand, and the guards behind Teysa stepped forward. They did not lay hands on her, but the message was clear. Aliara reached up and squeezed Teysa's hand. "I've danced before, milady," she said. "Perhaps instead, I could--"

"Why not both of you?" the Eel asked. "Lovely! What a wonderful idea!"

Now that the idea had lodged itself in her brain, it seemed that she would not be denied. Teysa's mouth went dry. She could feel the situation spiraling out of her control, but perhaps it was not yet too late. This had been a mistake, she could tell that now. She'd withdraw, regroup, come back with a plan...

"I'd hate to waste your time, milady," Teysa managed. "You are very busy, I can see that now. I'm sure my grandfather just wandered off. We'll find him ourselves, no need to trouble yourself with--"

"THILENTHE!" the Eel roared. In the sudden quiet, Teysa's ears could just make out a tiny noise. It was infinitesimal, the faintest scrape of steel, but it was a sound she had heard many times before. Behind her, the closest guard's sword had slid just a fraction of an inch out of its scabbard.

The Eel stood up, eyes blazing. "You come into my houthe and demand my attention!" she screamed. All pretense of control had evaporated. "You practically accuthe me of ****!" Teysa hadn't, but she could hardly press the issue, since it was now quite obviously true. "And now you think you are too good to entertain my friendth and me! Well, mithy, I've given you far more pathienthe than you detherve. Get up there now and thow me why I thouldn't jutht have you thlain!" One beringed hand curled into a fist. Spittle flew wildly. Her courtiers stood stonefaced as she raved; clearly they were used to her rages.

Teysa's shoulders slumped. Slowly, holding her hands out to show that she was unarmed, she turned towards the stage. The Eel settled back into her chair and watched with eyes like little chunks of obsidian as Teysa climbed the steps. She slithered around in her chair, opening a pair of fresh red cuts along her shoulder, and lounged in a position that gave her an excellent view. All around her, her courtiers rearranged themselves so that they could see as well. Teysa felt the eyes upon her and fought down the blush creeping up her neck. She was just being asked to dance, that was all. It would be embarrassing, but compared to poor Father Tuubel, she was getting off light.

Unseen pipers struck up a slow, sensuous melody. The drums picked up the rhythm. It was deep, resonant, like a heartbeat. Teysa had sung in the choir at the Abbey, but only out of obligation; she was an indifferent musician and had never seen the point of dancing. This beat, however, she could feel in her bones. She closed her eyes and tried to remember how the dancers had moved. They had been lithe and flexible where Teysa was broad-shouldered and muscular, but she still made the attempt. She swayed her hips back and forth and waggled her arms in the air. Next to her Aliara was doing a more creditable job of imitating the gyrations of the dancers, though she didn't throw herself into it the way they had.

A spate of giggles broke out in the audience, and Teysa colored further. She knew she wasn't doing a good job. That wasn't the point, was it? The point was to humiliate her. She told herself that it was all for Father Tuubel. She could survive a little humiliation. Besides, she didn't want to dance in a way that impressed these degenerates. They were criminals and perverts, the lot of them. Anyone willing to cast their lot with a thug like the Eel was not someone whose opinion she cared about.

The anger fueled her and she found herself moving quicker. How dare that drow **** her into this? All the power the Eel had, the respect she commanded, and she used it for such petty ends! She wanted to humiliate Teysa, to make her look weak and foolish, and why? Spite? The desire to prove her own power? Well, two could play at that game. Teysa shimmied to and fro and spun in a circle. Her face, which had been locked in a **** glare, broke out into a warm and sunny smile. She would dance, and she would enjoy herself! Aliara saw what she was doing and matched her. The two of them clasped hands, whirled against each other and then away, spun in opposite directions like ballerinas. Teysa's hair lifted as she twirled and for a moment she was a child again, running through a sunny field.

The crowd leaned in avidly. The laughter had not entirely stopped, but there were cheers too, and brief spurts of applause. Only the Eel was glaring now. The drow frowned up at Teysa. _Don't like this, do you? thought Teysa. You can make me dance, but you can't make me hate it._

The Eel sat up abruptly and clapped her hands. "Most excellent!" she said. "But I can thee that your armor ith weighing you down. It'th hard to danthe well carrying all that weight. Why not remove it?"

There was a hard edge to her voice, so instead of protesting, Teysa began unbuckling the straps that held on her breastplate and faulds. Aliara helped, wiggling her butt seductively as she untied the laces and undid the fasteners. They piled Teysa's armor up neatly on the edge of the stage and made to resume, but the Eel wasn't finished. "Your leatherth, too," she said. "They mutht be tho thtiff. Thtrip."

For the first time since she had begun to dance, a scintilla of fear shivered up Teysa's spine. How far was the Eel going to push them? This had been a game, but she wasn't sure if it was anymore. Still, she knew an order when she heard one. Divesting herself of her gambeson, tunic and trousers was uncomfortable, and she felt the eyes of the audience crawling all over her flesh as she folded her clothes and laid them next to her armor. Beneath she wore cotton smallclothes and a silk strophium that wrapped around her chest. Aliara had shed her own leather armor and was similarly attired, though in Teysa's opinion the half-elf's underthings were a bit frillier and less functional.

The Eel didn't push them further, and so they resumed, though Teysa moved with a bit less enthusiasm. She didn't want to fall out in front of this crowd. They weren't cheering her anymore; now they were staring like wolves salivating over a fresh kill. She swung her hips back and forth and stepped lightly from foot to foot. Self-consciousness made her movements small and tight and kept her far away from Aliara, who was tracing a small circle with her feet and shaking her shoulders back and forth.

"What'th the matter, ladieth?" asked the Eel with a grin. "You got tho thy all of a thudden. I know! You need thomeone to thow you how it's done. Meluria!" This last word was delivered in a shout and accompanied by a sharp clap of her hands. The crowd parted and someone pushed their way through.

It was a woman, dark-skinned and with a curiously flat face. Her eyes were liquid gold and widely-spaced under a broad forehead, her nose a tiny nub above thin, dark lips. Her tongue flicked out once as she sashayed up the stairs. She wore a tight black leather bustier festooned with silver buckles, and below the waist...

Teysa stared. Below the waist the woman's hips merged seamlessly into a scaled snake's body. She resembled a naga, though her upper body looked substantially more human. Her black hair hung down in a cascade of long, thin braids wrapped with multicolored thread and strung with jeweled beads. She stood about as tall as Teysa, though if she had laid out flat, she would have been several times longer. Her bare arms were decorated with copper and silver bands, but beneath them Teysa could see the interlocking scales. She smiled, and her lips parted to reveal an almost-human set of teeth-- save for the needle fangs that flicked out just for a moment before she closed her mouth again.

Meluria clasped her hands over her head and began to sway back and forth. Her hips swung back and forth at a languid, steady pace. She revolved slowly, her snake body coiling beneath her. When she had completed a full rotation she slithered across the floor towards Teysa, who was staring in awe.

This close, Teysa could smell the snake-woman— a dry, desert scent, like the funereal spices used to prepare a mummy. Meluria held her arms at her sides and rolled her shoulders back and forth. She circled around Teysa, wrapping her sinuous body around the paladin’s ankles. Still, Teysa could only stare. Her movements were so impossibly smooth. She flowed like oil across the stage.

Once she had circled Teysa once, Meluria reached out and took the paladin’s hands in her own. Her skin was dry and slightly rough, but soft and warm. She lifted the unresisting fingers to the silver buckles of her bustier and squeezed. The first buckle clicked open and its halves dangled on their strips of black leather. The snake-woman smiled and moved Teysa’s hand to another buckle, and then another...

Soon, Teysa was moving on her own. Her hips had begun to shimmy of their own accord, rubbing up against the scaly coils as she swayed to and fro. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aliara glaring at her in jealous fury, but her body seemed to be operating indepedently. Her feet felt leaden, her head heavy. Her hands were following their own guidance. Buckles and straps opened and fell away under her dexterous fingers. The bustier loosened with each metallic _click _until it was barely clinging to Meluria’s body. Only then did the snake-woman reach up and, with a shrug, slide it off along her arms. Beneath, she was naked, and a pair of dark, heavy breasts swung free. Her nipples were as black as coal and glistened wetly in the firelight. Teysa could see dewy wetness shine from their peaks. Still gyrating, Meluria reached out and wrapped her arms around the paladin’s upper body. One hand ran through Teysa’s hair and gripped the back of her head, not hard enough to hurt but with a firm and unyielding strength. She tilted Teysa’s head until they were gazing into each other’s eyes.

Teysa’s heart leapt into her throat. She had thought the other woman’s eyes were golden, but this close, she could see that she had been wrong. They were like amber, like honey, liquid pools that coruscated with tiny points of light. Deep, deep in their centers were tiny black dots, pinpricks through which Meluria peered out at the world. The golden light shifted and swam, and Teysa felt her mouth go dry. There were patterns in that light, she could see that now, and patterns within the patterns, an endless interlocking fractal complexity that spiraled downward towards the black voids of her pupils. She was sliding down that spiral, slowly at first but soon faster and faster. The wind of her passage whipped up her hair. She was drowning in indescribable sweetness, that spicy funereal scent filling her nostrils...