o
G rtal, but romph had forbidden it to do harm to a
enough to stand between it and its appointed nyone but Quenthel unless she was fool prey. Wpast the sentry and on down the corridor. Soon it camith a pang of regret, it slipped e upon a row of cells. Within
the square little roomSo eager for bloodshed was the entity that s, students recited their devotions.the hall seemed to last forever
. Soon
enough, though, the spirit reached the spider'sround, firelit heart of the tem cephalothoraxes. This was the
ple, home to the grandest chapels, the holiest ofaltars, and the quarters of the tem
ple's senior priestesses.The intruder flowed into a spacious and lar
gely empty octagonal chamberwhere the air was perceptibly cooler than in the surrounding rooms and ,
and inlaid lines and curves of gold defihallways. Statues of Lolth stood betweenned a com the eight open rectangular doorways, plex magical sigil on the floora pentacle seemingly focused on a nexus ,
of power at the exact center of the
room. The same figure adorned the lofty ceiling, reinforcing the enchantment.
The netherspirit had no particular desire to discover what that enchantment was. It crawled along the walls, m
aking sure not to touch the edge of the design.
Waves of power beat from the middle of the figure as some
becam thing woke or e more real in the center of the chamber. A sharpness tore into the top of
pain.the spirit's vapor like body, stunning it for an instant with a burst of unexpected Som
ething jerked the living darkness toward the middle of the chamber. It
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realized that despite its lack of solidity, someequivalent of a hook and line. It also understood that simthing had caught it with the
ply avoidin thepentacle hadn't been good enough. Apparently when one ente g
red the room, one
was supposed to say a password or something.The pulling ended abruptly inished. Shaking off its shock and
disorientation, the darkness cast about a, and the pain dimThe attacker was nearly as amorphous as itself, but the end discerned the being crouching over it.
ssence of it was fixed
hard, a m ,ass of knobs and angles.
piercing burned, mThe attacker extruded additional lengths of itself to transfix the darkness. The ade the spirit shake uncontrollably, and seemout its strength. ed to be leeching
s agent realized with a kind of wonder, was the cold that could extinguish a mortal life in This, Gromph' a heartbeat. The intruder had never felt th
e sensation
before—not in a painful way—and shouldn't have been fprisoner of the pentacle wasn' eeling it at all, but the
t just cold.
of cold given life, just as the nethersp It was the essence of cold, the pure idea darkness. irit to some degree embodied the concept of
which point they broke awayBits of the assassin began to clot, to gum. It wasn' , and to harden to a brittle rigidity, at t truly injured as yet, but if it wanted to keep it that way
, it knew it had better strike back at its assailant.
hairline cracks, imperfect junctures. It washed its leading edge over the spirit of cold and discovered stress points, Of course—the prisoner's structureresembled a mass of ice.
weak spots. It slid thin planes of itselGromph's agent materialized members like hammers, which pounded at the forcing the edges apart. f into the fissures, then thickened them,
The cold spirit snatched its frigid claws out of its foe. Its mind babbled a psionic offer of surrender
. The cloud of darkness ignored it and continued the
attack.
the spirit of darkness for a second then they were gone.The freezing prisoner of the sigil exploded into motes of frost. They peppered
trying to see if the battle had attracted Pleased with itself, the victor turned, inspecting each anyone' of the doorways in turn, s attention. Apparently not dactually, that made sense. The struggle had been relatively quiet, conduc, an
ted
lar
The darkness reached the engely on another level of existence.trance to Quenthel's suite without further incident.
Another sentry waited there, a spiked mace all but crackling with mystic force inher hand. Left to her own devices, she might hear her supe
rior's distress and try to
intervene, and the spirit decided to prevent such an occurrence. It rose around the
priestess, blinding her, thickened a neck. length of itself, and whipped it around her
The female thrashed a little, then passed out for want of air. Her assailant laidher down and slid beneath the door
.
Scores of costly icons decorated Quenthel's private rooms, so many that the place seemed a temple of Lolth in its own right. Beyond that, however
, the suite was sparsely furnished, albeit with exquisite pieces, as if the Mistress of ArachTinilith practiced an asceticism at odds with the habits of the average sybaritic
Menzoberranyr.The darkness sent an intangible ripple of itself probing ahead. At once i
t
discovered an element of Quenthel's personal defenses. It was not, as the spirit
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might have expected, a hidden mantrap woven of potent divine magic but a
simple set of crystal wind chimes rendered invisible and hung at a point where
any oblivious intruder would be sure to bump his head on them. Apparently theBaenre priestess believed that so long as
she would be able to handle the threat her-san assassin gave her a second's warning, elf.
Maybe she could. The netherspirit would never knowintention of informing her of its comi , because it had no
ng. It took a certain ironic amusement in sliding its smoke like form
disturbing them in the slightest. directly through the dangling crystals without
legged on a rug. Along the back wall, pulEyes closed, in Reverie no doubt, Quenthel sat straight-backed and cross-ses of mystical force throbbed from a pair of iron ches
ts and from behind a theoretically secret door
priestess had invoked som . The high e formidable magic to protect her valuables. It wastoo bad she wasn'
t sim
Gromph's agent flowed forward, and somilarly careful with her life.ething reared hissing atop a round
the mlittle table. It was the five vipers comprising an enchanted whip. Distracted by agical power blazing at the back of the chamber, the netherspirit had
mi
Fortunatelyssed feeling the lesser em, it didn't m anations of the vipers.atter. The animate darkness had skulked too close to its prey for anything to balk it. It solidified a twisting strand of it
self and slapped
the table over, sending the whip flying. At the same time it darted, stretching, to
pounce on Quenthel.Her slanted eyes opened but of course saw only blackness. She opened he
r
mouth to speak or shout, and the demon shoved a tendril inside.
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C h a p t e r