蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第21部分

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h　of　a　dark　elf　maiden；　she　was　still　human　at　the　core。
Though　it　was　foreign　to　his　own　nature；　Pharaun　found　her　appreciation　rather　gratifying。　Still；　he　hadn't　transformed　her　to　bask　in　her　naive　sentimentality　but　to　elicit　some　answers。　〃Now；〃　he　said；　〃please；　tell　us。〃
〃Right。〃　She　took　a　deep　breath　to　pose　herself　and　said；　〃I　do　believe　something　emboldened　the　Undercreatures　in　this　house。　What's　more；　I　think　it's　affected　goblinoids　throughout　the　Braeryn。〃
〃What　is　it？〃　asked　Ryld。
〃I　don't　know。〃
The　warrior　grimaced。
〃What　led　you　to　infer　this　agency？〃　Pharaun　asked。　〃I　assume　you　were　housebound　even　before　you　barricaded　yourself　in　your　room。〃
〃I　saw　a　change　in　the　brutes　who　live　here。　They　were　surly；　insolent；　and　foultempered；　ready　to　maim　and　kill　one　another　at　the　slightest　provocation。〃
Ryld　hitched　his　shoulders；　working　stiffness　out　or　shifting　Splitter　to　lie　more　fortably　across　his　back。
〃How　is　that　different　than　normal？〃　asked　the　weapons　master。
Smylla　scowled　at　him　and　said；　〃All　things　are　relative。　The　creatures　exhibited　those　qualities　to　a　greater　extent　than　before；　and　whenever　I　heard　tidings　from　beyond　these　walls；　they　suggested　the　entire　precinct　shared　the　same　truculent　humor。〃
Pharaun　nodded。　〃Did　you　hear　about　tribal　emblems　appearing　in　the　streets？〃
〃Yes；〃　she　said。　〃That　bespeaks　a　kind　of　madness；　don't　you　think？〃
〃Maybe　in　one　or　two　thralls；〃　said　Ryld。　〃What　of　it？　You　promised　my　friend　information。　Tell　us　something　we　don't　already　know；　and　I　mean　facts；　not　your　impressions。〃
The　clairvoyant　smiled。　〃All　right。　I　was　building　up　to　it。　Every　few　nights　a　drum　beats　somewhere　in　the　Braeryn；　calling　the　lower　orders　to　some　sort　of　gathering。　Many　of　the　occupants　of　this　house　clear　out。　With　what　little　remains　of　my　clairvoyance；　I've　sensed　many　others　skulking　through　the　streets；　all　converging　on　a　mon　destination。〃　
〃Nonsense；〃　said　Ryld。　〃Why　has　no　drow　patrol　heard　the　signal　and　e　to　investigate？〃
〃Because；〃　said　Pharaun；　〃the　city　possesses　enchantments　to　mute　sound。〃
〃Well；　maybe。〃　Ryld　turned　back　to　Smylla。　〃Where　do　the　creatures　go；　and　why？〃
〃I　don't　know；〃　she　said；　〃but　perhaps；　with　my　health　and　occult　talents　restored；　I　could　find　out。〃　She　beamed　at　Pharaun。　〃I'd　be　happy　to　try。　I　fulfilled　the　letter　of　our　bargain；　but　I　do　realize　I　haven't　provided　you　with　all　that　much　in　exchange　for　the　priceless　gift　you　gave　me。〃
〃That　remark　touches　on　the　question　of　your　future；〃　the　wizard　said。　〃You'd　have　no　difficulty　reestablishing　your　dominion　here　in　the　Stenchstreets；　but　why　live　so　meanly？　I　could　use　an　aide　of　your　caliber。　Or；　if　you　prefer；　I　can　arrange　your　safe　repatriation　to　the　World　Above。〃
As　he　spoke；　he　surreptitiously　contorted　the　fingers　of　his　left　hand；　expressing　himself　in　the　silent　language　of　the　dark　elves；　a　system　of　gestures　as　efficient　and　prehensive　as　the　spoken　word。
〃I　think—〃　Smylla　began；　then　her　eyes　opened　wide。
She　whimpered。　Ryld　pulled　his　short　sword　out　of　her　back；　and　she　collapsed。　Pharaun　skipped　back　to　keep　her　from　toppling　against　him。
〃Despite　her　previous　experiences；〃　the　lanky　wizard　said；　〃she　couldn't　quite　leave　off　trusting　drow。　I　suppose　it　shows　you　can　take　the　human　out　of　the　sunshine；　but　not　the　sunshine　out　of　the　human。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃This　is　the　second　female　I've　slain　or　murdered　by　proxy　in　the　brief　time　since　our　adventure　began；　and　I　didn't　particularly　want　to　kill　either　one　of　them。　Do　you　suspect　an　underlying　metaphysical　significance？〃
〃How　would　I　know？　I　take　it　you　bade　me　kill　the　snitch　because　she　was　feeding　us　lies。〃
〃Oh；　no。　I'm　convinced　she　was　telling　the　truth。　The　problem　was　that　I　deceived　her。　Her　metamorphosis　didn't　really　purge　her　disease。　It　was　a　bit　tricky　just　suppressing　it　for　a　few　minutes。〃
Pharaun　stepped　back　again　to　keep　the　spreading　pool　of　blood　from　staining　his　boots；　and　Ryld　cleaned　the　short　sword　on　the　dead　human's　bedding。
〃You　didn't　want　to　leave　her　alive　and　angry　to　carry　tales　to　Greyanna；〃　the　weapons　master　said。
〃It's　unlikely　they　would　have　found　one　another；　but　why　take　the　chance？〃
〃And　you　asked　Smylla　about　the　marks　on　the　walls。　You're　just　too　cursed　curious　to　let　the　subject　go。〃
Pharaun　grinned。　〃Don't　be　silly。　I'm　the　very　model　of　singleminded　determination；　and　I　was　asking　to　further　our　mission。〃
Ryld　glanced　at　the　door　and　the　iron　bar。　They　were　still　holding。
〃What　does　the　strange　behavior　of　goblins　have　to　do　with　the　rogue　males？〃　he　asked。
〃I　don't　know　yet；〃　Pharaun　answered；　〃but　we　have　two　oddities　occurring　at　the　same　time　and　in　the　same　precinct。　Doesn't　it　make　sense　to　infer　a　relationship？〃
〃Not　necessarily。　Menzoberranzan　has　scores　of　plots　and　conspiracies　going　on　at　any　given　time。　They　aren't　all　connected。〃
〃Granted。　However；　if　these　two　situations　are　linked；　then　by　inquiring　into　one；　we　likewise　probe　the　other。　You　and　I　have　experienced　a　depressing　lack　of　success　picking　up　the　trail　of　our　runaways。　Therefore；　we'll　investigate　the　lower　orders　and　see　where　that　path　takes　us。〃
〃How　will　we　do　that？〃
〃Follow　the　drum；　of　course。〃
The　door　banged。
〃First；〃　said　Ryld；　〃we　have　to　get　out　of　here。〃
〃Easily　managed。　I'll　remove　the　locking　talisman　from　the　door；　then　use　illusion　to　make　us　blend　with　the　walls。　In　a　minute　or　two；　the　residents　will　break　the　door　down。　When　they're　busy　abusing　Smylla's　corpse　and　ransacking　her　possessions；　we'll　put　on　goblin　faces　and　slip　out　in　the　confusion。〃
　
Chapter
E　　L　　E　V　E　N
Quenthel's　patrol　had　stalked　the　shadowy；　candlelit　passages　of　ArachTinilith　for　hours；　until　spaces　she　knew　intimately　began　to　seem　strange　and　subtly　unreal；　and　her　subordinates'　nerves　visibly　frayed　with　the　waiting。　She　called　a　halt　to　let　the　underlings　rest　and　collect　themselves。　They　stopped　in　a　small　chapel　with　the　images　of　skulls；　daggers；　and　spiders　worked　in　basrelief　on　the　walls　and　the　bones　of　longdead　priestesses　interred　beneath　the　floor。　Rumor　whispered　that　a　cleric　had　cut　her　own　throat　in　this　sanctuary　and　her　ghost　sometimes　haunted　it；　but　the　Baenre　had　never　seen　the　apparition；　and　it　wasn't　in　evidence　then。
The　priestesses　and　novices　settled　on　the　pews。　For　a　while；　no　one　spoke。
Eventually　Jyslin；　a　secondyear　student　with　a　heartshaped　face　and　silver　studs　in　her　earlobes；　said；　〃Perhaps　nothing　will　happen。〃
Quenthel　stared　coldly　at　the　novice。　Like　the　rest　of　the　party；　the　younger　female　cut　a　warlike　figure　with　her　mace；　mail；　and　shield；　but　her　dread　showed　in　her　troubled　maroon　eyes　and　shiny；　sweaty　brow。　
〃We　will　face　another　demon　tonight；〃　Quenthel　said。　〃I　feel　it；　so　it's　pointless　to　hope　otherwise。　Instead　I　suggest　you　concentrate　on　staying　alert　and　remembering　what　you've　learned。〃
Jyslin　lowered　her　eyes　and　whispered；　〃Yes；　Mistress。〃
〃Wishful　thinking　is　for　cowards；〃　Quenthel　said；　〃and　if　you　fools　are　lapsing　into　it；　we've　lingered　here　too　long。　Up　with　you。〃
Reluctantly；　someone's　links　of　supple　black　mail　chiming　ever　so　faintly；　Quenthel's　minions　rose。　She　led　them　onward。
In　light　of　the　two　previous　intrusions　and　the　obvious　uselessness　of　the　wards　the　mages　of　Sorcere　had　created；　Quenthel　had　placed　ArachTinilith　on　alert　and　anized　her　staff　and　students　into　squads　of　eight。　Most　of　the　units　would　stand　watch　at　set　locations；　but　several　would　patrol　the　entire　building。　The　Baenre　princess　had　opted　to　lead　one　of　the　latter。
She'd　also　decided　to　throw　open　the　storerooms　and　armories　and　dispense　all　the　potent　enchanted　tools　and　weapons　still　deposited　there。　Even　the　firstyear　students　bore　enchanted　arms　and　talismans　worthy　of　a　high　priestess。
Not　that　the　gear　had　done　much　to　bolster　Jyslin's　morale；　nor　that　of　many　another　novice。　Had　Quenthel　not　been　suffering　her　own　carefully　masked　anxieties；　their　glumness　might　have　amused　her。　The　girls　had　seen　demons　throughout　their　childhoods。　They'd　even　achieved　a　certain　intimacy　with　them　in　ArachTinilith；　but　this　was　the　first　time　such　entities　had　posed　a　threat　to　them；　and　they'd　realized　they　hadn't　truly　known　the　ferocious　beings　at　all。
No　doubt　some　of　the　females　had　also　been　perceptive　enough　to　recognize　that　they　themselves　had　been　in　paratively　little　danger　until　Quenthel　mustered　them　in　what　was　more　or　less　her　personal　defense。　If　so；　their　resentment；　like　their　uneasiness；　was　irrelevant。　They　were　her　underlings；　and　it　was　their　duty　to　serve　her。
〃It's　the　wrath　of　Lolth　herself；〃　whispered　Minolin　FeyBranche；　a　fifthyear　student　who　wore　her　hair　in　three　long　braids。　Obviously；　she　didn't　intend　for　her　voice　to　carry　to　the　front　of　the　procession。　〃First　she　strips　us　of　our　magic；　then　sends　her　fiends　to　kill　us。〃
Quenthel　whirled。　Sensing　her　anger；　her　whip　vipers　rose；　weaving　and　hissing。
〃Shut　up〃　she　snapped。　〃The　Spider　Queen　may　be　testing　us；　eliminating　the　unfit；　but　she　has　not　condemned　her　entire　temple。　She　would　not。〃
Minolin　lowered　her　eyes。　〃Yes；　Mistress；〃　she　said　tonelessly。
Quenthel　noticed　that　no　one　else　looked　reassured；　either。
〃You　disgust　me；〃　the　Baenre　said。　〃All　of　you。〃
〃We　apologize；　Mistress；〃　said　Jyslin。
〃I　remember　my　training；〃　Quenthel　said。　〃If　a　novice　showed　a　hint　of　cowardice　or　disobedience；　my　sister　Triel　would　make　her　fast　for　a　tenday；　and　eat　rancid　filth　for　another　after　that。　I　should　do　the　same；　but　unfortunately；　with　ArachTinilith　under　siege；　I　need　my　people　strong。　So　all　right；　though　it　should　shame　you　take　it；　you　can　have　another　rest。　You'll　fill　your　bellies；　and　it　had　better　stiffen　your　spines。　Otherwise；　we'll　see　how　many　of　you　I　have　to　flog　before　the　rest　cease　their　cringing　and　whining。　e。〃
She　led　them　on　to　a　classroom　where　the　kitchen　staff　had　set　a　table。　She'd　ordered　them　to　prepare　a　cold　supper　and　leave　it　at　various　points　around　the　temple；　so　that　the　weary　sentinels　could　at　least　refresh　themselves　with　food；　and　the　cooks　had　done　a　decent　job　of　it。　On　a　silver　salver　lay　pink　and　brown　slices　of　rothe　steak　steeped　in　a　tawny　marinade；　their　aroma　peting　with　ArachTinilith's　omnipresent　scent　of　incense。　Other　trays　and　bowls　held　raw　mushroom　pieces　with　a　creamy　dipping　sauce　and　a　salad　of　black；　white；　and　red　diced　fungus；　while　the　pitchers　presumably　contained　wine；　watered　as　per　her　mand。　Quenthel　hoped　the　alcohol　would　hearten　those　residents　whom　Lolth's　absence　and　the　incursions　of　the　past　two　nights　had　terrified；　but　she　didn't　want　any　of　the　temple's　defenders　sloppy　drunk　and　incapacitated。
Some　of　Quenthel's　minions　fell　to　as　if　they　expected　this　to　be　their　last　meal。　Others；　likely　as　certain　of　their　fate；　seemed　too　tense　to　do　more　than　pick　at　the　viands。
The　mistress　of　the　Academy　supposed　that；　though　she　intended　to　survive　the　night；　in　a　sense；　she　belonged　to　the　latter　party。　Her　stomach　was　somewhat　queasy；　and　the　long　hours　of　edgy　anticipation　had　killed　her　appetite。
e　on；　demon；　she　thought；　let's　get　this　over　with。　。　。　。
The　entity　failed　to　respond　to　her　silent　plea。
She　decided　her　throat　was　a　little　parched；　caught　Jyslin's　eye；　and　said；　〃Pour　me　a　cup。〃
〃Yes；　Mistress。〃
The　secondyear　novice　performed　the　service　with　mendable　alacrity。　She　filled　the　silver　goblet　too　high　for　gentility's　sake；　but　Quenthel　expected　no　better　from　a　moner。　The　Baenre　accepted　the　cup　with　a　nod　and　raised　it　to　her　lips。
Her　whip　of　fangs　hung　from　her　wrist　by　the　wyvernhide　loop　that　pierced　its　handle。　She　felt　a　thrill　of　alarm　surge　across　the　psionic　link　she　shared　with　the　vipers。　At　the　same　instant；　the　snakes　reared　and　dashed　the　goblet　from　her　grasp。　She　stared　at　them　in　amazement。
〃Poison；〃　Yngoth　said；　his　slitpupiled　eyes　glinting　in　their　scaly　sockets。　〃We　smelled　it。〃
Quenthel　looked　around。　Her　followers　had　heard　the　serpent's　declaration　and　were　gawking　at　her　and　the　reptiles　in　consternation。　They　appeared　to　be　in　perfectly　good　health；　but　she　trusted　the　vipers　and　knew　it　wouldn't　last。
〃Purge　yourselves；〃　she　said。　〃Now〃
They　never　got　the　chance。　Almost　as　one；　they　succumbed　to　the　toxin；　swaying；　staggering；　and　collapsing。　Some　retched　involuntarily　as　the　sickness　hit　them；　but　it　didn't　help。　They　passed　out　like　the　rest。
Quenthel　shifted　the　whip　back　to　her　hand；　peered　in　all　directions；　and　bade　the　vipers　do　the　same。　She'd　realized　her　demonic　assailants　were　supposed　to　suggest　the　several　dominions　of　the　goddess；　and　therefore　an　〃assassin〃　of　some　sort　would　turn　up　sooner　or　later。　Still；　she　foolishly　assumed　that　being　would　attack　in　some　obvious　way　just　as　the　〃spider〃　and　〃darkness〃　had。　She　hadn't　expected　it　to　employ　stealth　and　attempt　to　poison　her；　though　in　retrospect；　that　tactic　made　perfect　sense。
The　question　was；　had　the　demon　done　all　it　planned　to　do；　or；　since　its　first　ploy　had　failed；　would　it　strike　at　her　in　some　other　way？
Off　to　the　west；　someone　screamed；　the　sound　echoing　down　the　stone　halls。　Quenthel　had　her　answer；　and　it　was　the　one　she'd　expected。
Her　heart　beat　faster；　her　mouth　felt　drier　still；　and　she　realized　she　wasn't　eager　to　confront　this　new　intruder；　certainly　not　without　the　support　of　her　personal　guards。　Yet　she　was　mistress　in　these　halls；　and　it　was　unthinkable　to　turn　tail　and　let　an　invader　make　free　with　her　domain。
Besides；　if　she　fled；　the　cursed　thing　would　probably　track　her　anyway。
Leaving　her　fallen　patrol　with　their　useless　magical　treasures　strewn　about　them　on　the　floor；　she　strode　toward　the　noise。　She　shouted　for　other　underlings　to　attend　her；　but　no　one　responded。
In　a　minute　or　so；　she　entered　a　long　gallery；　where　wall　carvings　told　the　history　of　Lolth　as　it　had　occurred　and　as　it　was　prophesied：　her　seduction　of　Corellon　Larethian；　chief　deity　of　the　contemptible　elves　of　the　World　Above；　their　union　and　her　first　attempt　to　overthrow　him；　her　discovery　of　her　spider　form　and　her　descent　into　the　Abyss；　her　conquest　of　the　Demonweb　and　her　adoption　of　the　drow　as　her　chosen　people；　and　her　future　triumph　over　all　other　gods　and　ascendancy　over　all　creation。
A　silhouette　appeared　in　the　arched　entry　at　the　far　end　of　the　hall。　It　changed　color　and　shape—humanoid；　quadruped；　blob；　worm；　cluster　of　spikes—from　one　instant　to　the　next。　Somehow　perceiving　Quenthel；　it　let　out　a　cry。　Its　voice　sounded　like　a　wavering；　cacophonous　jumble　of　every　noise　she'd　ever　heard　and　some　she　hadn't。　Within　the　first　discordant　howl　she　caught　the　shrill　note　of　a　flute；　the　grunt　of　a　rothe；　a　baby　crying；　water　splashing；　and　fire　crackling。
Quenthel　recognized　the　demon　for　the　profound　threat　it　was；　but　for　a　moment；　she　was　less　concerned　for　her　safety　or　fired　with　a　fighter's　rage　than　she　was　surprised。　Poison　surely　suggested　an　assassin；　yet　the　demon　before　her　was　plainly　an　embodiment　of　chaos。
The　spirit　started　down　the　gallery；　and　the　walls　bulged；　flowed；　and　changed　color　around　it。　Quenthel　reached　into　the　leather　bag　hanging　from　her　belt　and　brought　out　a　scroll；　then　something　hit　her　hard　in　the　back　of　the　neck。
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Ryld　peered　about　the　room。　Judging　from　the　sunken　arena　in　the　center　of　the　flo