But we are … rather formidable. My guards, combined with Quelamia’s magic, make us a difficult target. But they seized one of my men, and we have to assume they’ll interrogate him and find out the details of our defenses. I don’t know what they’ll do with that information, though. Attack us, or leave well enough alone? The problem is, the enemy is unknown, in kind and in motivation. Are they slavers? Devotees of some mad god? Are they drow? Duergar? The Underdark is vast, home to countless races, and I don’t know enough about the place to separate the stories I’ve heard from truth. I have to assume the danger is real. That we could be attacked, and overwhelmed, and all of us dragged into the dark.”

“What do you propose?” Alaia said. “This is the best place for the terazul harvest. The secondary and tertiary sites are less fruitful, and not really far enough away to make a difference anyway. I’m loath to leave, and what-never come back?”

“That’s precisely what I advise.”

“And if I reject that advice?” A small smile touched her lips. “As you know I’m inclined to do?”

“An overwhelming show of force,” Krailash said. “To shut off this particular passageway to the surface, and show them we’re not to be trifled with.”

“Mmm,” Alaia said. “You’ll want Quelamia.”

“I will.”

“She gave up being a war wizard before I was born. She won’t like it.”

Krailash shrugged. The question of liking, or not liking, a particular chore seemed irrelevant to him. Duty was duty. One did what was necessary. “She has the power, though. She doesn’t often need to use it, but she can.”

“Oh, yes. The family pays her for what she can do, as much as we pay her for what she actually does. All right. Tell her I’ve agreed.”

Krailash stood, then hesitated. He nodded at the child. “What will you do with …” He almost said “it,” but Alaia had an unusual look of tenderness in her gaze as she looked at the infant, so he said “… her?”