...and receives some bad news

“Where is she?”

The Matron took her time turning around. She had surely heard Teysa coming—had probably felt her rage. It rose off of Teysa like steam. Standing before her queen, she still felt the pull of instinctive obedience, yet her fury made it easy to stifle. The Matron had to feel that, at least to hear it in Teysa’s voice, yet she radiated calm. She was unarmed and unarmored, but Teysa knew better than to try to attack her. At least not yet.

<Hello, Tey’sa,> the Matron replied. At the sound of her name, Teysa winced. There was a hitch in the middle there, a momentary stop that would have been inaudible to anyone not listening for it. Teysa had been listening for it, though, and that hitch hit her like a slap in the face. The Matron had taken everything from her: her body, her lover, even her name. Teysa was a warrior, a paladin, a brave woman with a gentle soul. She wasn’t sure who Tey’sa was.

“Where is Aliara?” Teysa had to look up to meet the Matron’s gaze. The larger drider was a looming presence, not just physically but spiritually as well. She seemed to exude a corona of molten darkness. It limned her edges and set her apart, as though she were a cut-out from another realm pasted crudely onto the world. Just looking at her made Teysa’s knees want to bend. You want to serve this being, her body was telling her. You want to live for her and die for her. She is your master.

With difficult, Teysa pushed these feelings back, but her anger began to ebb. It happened slowly. She could feel the white-hot core of fury pulsing inside her, the **** that had driven her to the Matron’s private chambers, but the overwhelming presence of the ancient drider smothered her fire. Embers of anger still burned in Teysa’s chest, but the chill of fear was starting to creep in.

<You will address me properly,> the Matron replied. Frost formed on every syllable. <The speech of the two-legs is beneath you now.> Her face was stern, yet there was a smoothness to her brow and a hint of tenderness in her gaze.

Teysa swallowed hard and decided to pick her battles. <Where is she, Matron?> Voiced in the drider form, her question sounded like a plea.

<Aliara has gone to slay Lord Lockh,> the Matron replied. <I sent Luneth with her. She is my best huntress, and her skill at infiltration is unrivaled.>

The matter-of-fact way she said it shook Teysa to her core. She’d expected some dissembling or excuse-making. <How?> was all she could manage. <How could you do this? How could you send them to die like that?>

<I did not send anyone to die,> the Matron replied. <Aliara volunteered to go. Indeed, she seemed **** for it. I could not have stopped her, but by sending one of my best alongside her, she has a chance of survival.>

<How could you let her go?> Teysa said. <You know this is suicide, Matron! You know it! And you know what she means to me!>

<Careful, child,> the Matron said. <I indulge you more than your sisters. Perhaps more than I should. I am mindful of the sacrifices you have made for this warren and the services you have rendered us. But I will not tolerate insubordination and I will not be second-guessed. We are at war. In war, it is a queen’s duty to defend her subjects and destroy her enemies. I must use every tool available to me.>

Teysa flinched back. Her head spun. All of her instincts were telling her to trust the Matron, that she knew best. The **** of the larger drider’s personality was an almost physical thing. It loomed over them like a shadow, pressing Teysa down into herself. She felt terribly lost, but in her confusion she clung to the one thing she knew was true.

<I love her, Matron,> she said. <I love her and she is lost. What should I do? What can I do?>

<Oh, Tey’sa,> the Matron said, and stooped until their faces were level. She ran her fingers through Teysa’s hair. Her touch was as overpowering as the rest of her, at once soothing and terrible. Teysa was not sure if she wanted to embrace the Matron or grovel before her. <What would you have had me do, if Aliara truly intended to leave? Should I have stopped her? I could have done so easily, but what then? Shall I web her to the wall so that she cannot slip out while the warren sleeps? Shall I make of her a gift for you, to visit whenever you please? Is that what you wanted?>

Teysa shuddered, remembering. All at once she was hanging in darkness, her belly swollen, her limbs pinned beneath pitiless silk. She shook her head to dispel the vision. <No Matron, no,> she said. <But…>

But what? She knew Aliara well enough to believe the Matron’s story. When the half-elf became fixated on a goal, she would pursue it relentlessly, and woe betide anyone who would stand in her way. <When did she leave?> Teysa asked.

<Two days ago,> the Matron replied. <She would not be back yet even if her mission was successful. Tey’sa, I know you fear for your love. I value Aliara as well. She is beloved of the Goddess. But she is a woman grown and can choose her own path. There was a time when I would have taken her freedom without thinking. But you were the one who showed me how wrong I was in that.>

Teysa stood in silence. The Matron’s words were empty and self-serving. She would happily use any tool to rid herself of Lockh, and surely she saw Aliara as competition for Teysa’s loyalty. Yet she was also correct. How could Teysa demand freedom for the broodmothers on the one hand, yet insist on keeping Aliara to herself? She couldn’t. She bowed her head.

<Please tell me when she returns, Matron,> she said. <And pray for her safety.>

<I do, child,> the Matron said. <Every day.> She rested a hand on Teysa’s shoulder and looked down at her with eyes as black and blank as the dark side of the moon. <We all have duties. We are at war, as I said, and you are one of our finest soldiers. Lockh will come again, and we must be ready for him. Will you prepare our defenses?>

Now, at least, Teysa was on familiar ground. She had spent much of her life dealing with the types of problems she could dispel with a solid blow from her mace. Those problems, she knew how to handle.

<I will, Matron,> she said. <I lost my mace in the battle. What shall I do to replace it?>

<I will see about finding you a suitable weapon,> the Matron promised. <In the meantime, help yourself to the contents of the armory. You are my master-of-arms now, Tey’sa. My strong right hand.> This was not an offer, Teysa understood; it was a mere statement of fact. <We are Lolth’s blessed children. We will endure.>