Lich for Hire

Ambrose settled naturally into Catherine's seat, and Catherine stepped naturally to one side.

He was the master of the underground city; the seat belonged to him.

Before long, the drow Constance appeared before him.

Constance was young, barely sixteen by human reckoning. She had been among the drow who joined the rebellion in the webbed metropolis in the Umbral Depths, and had never been "domesticated."

When she had first arrived, she had wasted no time demanding a duel with Catherine. In her assessment, any elf who looked that beautiful had to be useless in a fight. What right did she have to issue any orders?

Then, Constance learned about the gulf in ability that separated her from the truly strong.

The bare-handed Catherine had slammed Constance onto the ground even when the latter was equipped with twin blades.

Assuming she had been careless, Constance tried again, to no avail. Catherine's reflexes and combat technique were simply beyond her.

So Constance fell back on the standard drow approach: feign submission, then find an opening in which to strike.

Unfortunately for her, Catherine was no longer the guileless innocent she had once been. Several of Constance's predecessors had already tried that exact play.

Every assassination attempt since then, she had effortlessly neutralized.

Constance was baffled. This was a high elf? Her counter-assassination techniques were sharper than a drow's. This woman called Catherine was something else entirely: not just beautiful, but superior in every measurable way.

What she couldn't understand was why she was still alive. Even after multiple failed assassination attempts, not only had Constance survived, she hadn't even been punished. She had been waiting for the other shoe to drop for weeks.

Here it was. The dungeon lord was sitting right in front of her, the lich about whom the stories said had schemed his way to near-godhood through cunning alone.

White bone, hollow eyes, an oppressive energy radiating from his skeletal frame.

His figure matched perfectly with every image Constance had ever formed of a supreme villain.

Ambrose looked her over, then turned to Catherine with studied severity. "So this is the young drow who's been breaking the rules all this time?"

His tone stopped Catherine cold.

"Yes," she said carefully. "Fifteen assassination attempts in total."

Constance thought, "There it is, my reckoning. I'm going to die here."

Then Catherine added, "Perhaps she could be given one more chance. I believe she can change."

Constance stared at her. The pardons hadn't been a scheme. Catherine had genuinely forgiven her.

But how could she still say that after suffering fifteen assassination attempts?

Catherine assumed Ambrose had set this up deliberately as one more performance to make Constance feel grateful. It was working, too. Something in Constance's manner had visibly shifted.

The lich really had an eye for people.

She was just beginning to congratulate herself on how smoothly it had gone when Ambrose slammed a hand on the table. "What in the world are you saying?! Are you completely brainless? Rules exist for a reason. The moment you let someone break them without consequence, they stop meaning anything!"

Catherine flinched. She had known this lich for years, and he had never spoken to her like this.

She stood frozen, unable to respond.

Ambrose wasn't finished. He rose to his feet and bore down on her. "I asked you to bring these drow into line. What have you actually done? You've been indulging them—indulging one of them into committing fifteen assassination attempts against you. You're useless. You're a waste of perfectly good food."

He extended one finger. Dark energy gathered at the tip with enough force that even someone with no magical training would feel the danger.

Constance watched the magic coalesce, about to come down on Catherine, and felt an instinctive drive to do something.

She had to stop this. Right. That much was obvious. Catherine was the only reason she was still alive. If Catherine died, she would too.

"Stop. Please spare her. I won't break the rules again, not ever. I swear it."

Ambrose's hollow eye sockets turned toward her. "You'd follow the rules, for Catherine's sake?"

The chill that moved through Constance's body was not from the temperature of the room. She felt like something had closed around her throat, but she forced the words out anyway.

"Yes. For Catherine, I'll do whatever you ask. I won't defy you again. I swear on the Spider Queen—"

"The oath won't be necessary."

Ambrose let the dark energy dissolve and looked at Catherine. "Now do you understand why I chose her?"

Catherine stared. Had this all been an act?

She clenched her hands into fists. "You absolute wretch. You nearly killed me from fright."

Constance looked between the two of them. The pieces fell into place. "You tricked me, together!"

Ambrose shook his head. "Only I tricked you. Catherine knew as much as you did. Both your reactions were genuine. She wanted to save you, and you her."

Constance felt as though she had been stripped bare. Embarrassment and indignation filled her in equal measure. "I only— I just—"

She wanted to say she had only acted out of self-preservation, but she was so enraged she couldn't say a thing.

Ambrose cut her off. "Don't bother explaining yourself. Do you really think I chose you at random? Fifteen attempts—the first few showed some real commitment, but the later ones were transparently half-hearted.

"Trying to stab a legendary ranger face-to-face. Digging a pit trap in a hard floor. Poison in plain sight. And a honey trap—a honey trap, really! Which one of you would actually qualify as the beauty in that scenario?" He let that land. "You stopped wanting to kill Catherine a long time ago. You were just trying to get her attention."

"That's not—I just ran out of ideas!"

"Stop lying to yourself. I'm not going to waste magic on a Detect Lies. I already know how you're feeling. Catherine is remarkable, and she's been genuinely kind to you. You felt it. You're just too confused to admit it."

He had read her correctly and he knew it. Constance had begun to change quietly, without quite realizing it, and had started to think about someone other than herself.

Before she could retort, Ambrose produced a folder and handed it to Catherine.

"This is the first phase of the airship transport plan. The initial route runs from the Court of the Silver Moon to the dwarven kingdom. I've drafted three options. Choose one to work on first. Constance will be the captain of the first transport vessel, and she can select her own crew.

"I expect she won't be the only drow whose nature has shifted."