. Quenthel brought them to heel with a brutal
thrust of her will. Feeling naught but a pleasant warmth, she silently commanded the dark fire. A portion of the m
agical stuff flowed down her arm and congealed into a
soft, semisolid ball in her palm. She threw it, and her mabullet to strike the ceiling fresco where it splashed into a great gout of mgic shot it up like a sling
u
flame. rky
Quenthel followed that first missile with a steady barrage. Where the dark firehad kissed it, the fresco began to burn with ordinary yellow flam
e, suffusing the airwith eye-stinging smoke and a vile sti
clenching taste at the back of her mouth. nk that was also a sickening, throat-She was throwing blindly
, but with the blaze above spreading, it shouldn't matter.Surely the spide
r wouldn't simply sit still and allow itself to bur
spur it into m n. The fire ought to otion and thus into visibility. Unless, of course, the spider wasn't
possibility. Maybe it was actually hiding elsereally on the ceiling, which was a real where. It might even be creeping up onher while she stared at the burning painting and the nervous vipers worried m
ore
about their proximity to a dark fire than about keeping watch.No, her intuition had pointed her in the right direction. She spotted the s
pider asit gathered itself to spring down at her
survive its renewed attack. , and having flushed it out, she need only
She dived from beneath its plumme
burning scraps of cloth behind on the floorting form. The creature with its t and rolled, leaving a trail of black, attered, oozingeyes landed with a thump, its eight legs flexing to absorb th
e impact.
Quenthel scrambled up and backed away from it. Her whole gown was aflame, nearlher entire body shrouded in dark fire. She threw another ball y
of the stuff, which spattered
on the demon's back and streamed down its flanks. To her delight, her magic affected it
again. The spider too wore a maThat meant it ought to drop, didn'ntle of shadowy flamt it, or at least flounder about ine, the heat rippling the air above it.
fi helpless agony? The re was surely damaging it, for Quenthel could smell its flesh charring even through
the omnipresent reek of burning paint, but the demon turned and scuttled after her.
She aimed the next burning missile at the cluster of eyes that seemed in some
indefinable way to constitute the very core of the thing. The spider did lurch and falter
when the burning darkness splashed over the orbs, but only for a second, and it kept
comi
Unable to outrun it, hoping she'd at least ng. softened it up a little, Quenthel shouted her goddess's name and lunged to meet it. Sheathed in dark-fi
re, her whole body was a
weapon and would burn the spider wherever it touched. Where the black flame on the
monster's limbs was giving way to yellow, it could burn her, too, but not if she didn't let
Richard Lee Byers
17
War Of The Spider Queen
Book 1
Dissolution
it. Their natural sa
i vagery overcoming their fear of fire, the whip vipers lashed and struck n a frenzy of bloodlust.
At first, swinging the whip, ducking and dodging, she kept herself clear of thespider'
s mandibles. She shifted left when she should have jumped right, and the
razor- sharp pincers snapped shut around her.
seared therebyThey stopped short of piercing her flesh. Loath to clasp her blazing body and be , the spider faltered for just an instant. Before it could muster the will to proceed, Quenthel struck a final blow
.
The ophidian lashes crashed through the demon's charred and tattered visage and bitinto what lay beneath. The spider jerked, fro
ze, twitched two of its legs in a purposeless
way, and the burning hulk of it slowly sank to the floorand all the dark fire still cracklin , just as Quenthel's spell elapsed
g in the chamber winked out of existence. She shouted in exultation. Equally ecstatic, only a little singed, the vi
pers danced atthe end of the scourge. Everyone's good mood lasted just as long as it took for the Baenre
priestess, clad primarily in smoke and ash, to turn toward the door. Though she'd been far too busy to notice hitherto, at som
e point a number of
teachers and students had evidently crowded into the space to watch the bawere watching Quenthel still, eyes wide, faces u ttle. They
ncertain.
"It was a desecration," said Quenthel. "A mockery " .She stared at them with haughty expectation.
They peered back at her for a moment, then folded their hands and bowed theirheads in obeisance.
Richard Lee Byers
18
War Of The Spider Queen
Book 1
Dissolution
C h a p t e r
T H R E E
Tall and lithe, the left side of her otherwise handsome face creased with an oldbattle
scar of which, she recognized, she was rather foolishly proud, Greyanna Mizzrym entered her
mother's presence dirty, sweaty, and still clad in her mail shirt. Greyanna knew
Mother didn't like for her daughters and other chattels to come to meet with her fully armed, but she
hadanexcuse. She'd just returned from an inspection tour of Mizzrym operations in
Bauthwaf—"around-cloak," as the dangerous network of tunnels immediately
surrounding Menzoberranzan was called—only to hear from a franticfunctionarybearing
the fresh marks of a whip of fangs that the matron mother wished to see her as soon as
possible. Actually, even knowing the articles likely wouldn't save her if things w
ent
horribly wrong, Greyanna rather liked having a justification to walk in on her parent with her mace in her hand and her shield on her arm. She c
ouldn't think of any
but one could never be altogether sure, creason why Mother would have decided to kill her at this particular point in time, ould one?Certainly not with Miz'ri Mizzrym, a fem
ale regarded even by other dark elves as
excessively and capriciously cruel. She sat enthroned in her temple with all of her weapons and protections ready to hand, the six-h
eaded whip and the purple rod of
tentacles, the enchanted rings gleaming on her fingers. She might have been considered
comely even by the exacting standards of her exquisite race, except that her mouth drew
down in an ugly and all but perpetual scowl. She regarded her daughter's martial appointm
ents coldly but without comment.
Greyanna lowered her head and spread her hands, offering the proper obeisance, andsaid, "Matron Mother. You wished to see me?"
"I wished to see you yesterday " ."I was of
"We have to keep up with our duties evenf conducting family business." Of course, Mother knew that as well as she did. now
observed on more than one occasion." . Especially now—as you yourself have
"W
Greyanna sighed. "Yatch your insolent tongue!" es, Mother. I apologize. I didn't mean to speak out of turn "."See that you refrain from doing so again."
Richard Lee Byers
19