Malice looked to Matron Baenre for confirmation, though, considering the present situation, she could not doubt SiNafay’s words.

“It is done,” Matron Baenre said to her. “House Do’Urden has won, and House Hun’ett will be no more.”

Malice fell back into her seat, smiling smugly at SiNafay. Still, though, the matron mother of House Hun’ett did not seem the least bit concerned.

“I will watch the destruction of your house with great pleasure,” Malice assured her rival. She turned to Baenre. “When will punishment be exacted?”

“It is already done,” Matron Baenre replied mysteriously.

“SiNafay lives!” Malice cried.

“No,” the withered matron mother corrected. “She who was SiNafay Hun’ett lives.”

Now Malice was beginning to understand. House Baenre had always been opportunistic. Could it be that Matron Baenre was stealing the high priestesses of House Hun’ett to add to her own collection?

“You will shelter her?” Malice dared to ask.

“No,” Matron Baenre replied evenly. “That task will fall to you.”

Malice’s eyes went wide. Of all the many duties she had ever been appointed in her days as a high priestess of Lloth, she could think of none more distasteful. “She is my enemy! You ask that I give her shelter?”

“She is your daughter,” Matron Baenre shot back. Her tone softened and a wry smile cracked her thin lips. “Your oldest daughter, returned from travels to Ched Nasad, or some other city of our kin.”

“Why are you doing this?” Malice demanded. “It is unprecedented!”

“Not completely correct,” replied Matron Baenre. Her fingers tapped together out in front of her while she sank back within her thoughts, remembering some of the strange consequences of the endless line of battles within the drow city.

“Outwardly, your observations are correct,” she continued to explain to Malice. “But surely you are wise enough to know that many things occur behind the appearances in