pleased her with a fast but precisely controlled cut to the face. The sh
ort, curved blade la
across her knees. y
Drisinil waited a beat to make sure
question. Apparently she did, and rightly so, since it was the younger fMolvayas intended her to answer the emalewho had actually conceived the ar
gument."When T
riel was mistress here," said
Quenthel assum the novice, "all was well. Shortly after ed the of" 'Shortly' being a relative termfice, Lolth rejected us."," said a sardonic voice from
somewhere in the
back of the room.
"Shortly enough," Drisinil retorted. "Perhaps the goddess gave us time torectify the error
. We failed to do so, so now she's punishing us."
"She's afflicting all Menzoberranzan," T'risstree said, "not just Tier Breche ".
" Surely "
, said Drisinil
"
, you didn't expect her to be fair. I hope a priestess knowsLolth'
s ways better than that. Her wrath is as boundless as her might. Besides
which, Arach-Tinilith is the repository of the deepest mysteries and thus the
mystic heart of Menzoberranzan. It makes perfect sense that whatever befalls us
here should touch the city as a whole.
our safeguards, two spirits invaded the tem"In any case," the novice continued, "Lolth has shown us her intent. Despite ple, the first in the guise of a s iderthe second p ,
a living darkness. Spider and darkness, reflections of the essence of the
goddess. The demons injured those who got in their way. They bruised them and
plainly seeking Quenthel, and they sought to kill her and her alone."broke their bones, but they didn't try to kill any of us, did they? They were Som
e of the other priestesses frowned or nodded thoughtfully.
"It did seem that way," said Vlondril, "but what do you think is unacceptable
about Quenthel? Isn't she doing all the same things Triel did?"
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"We don't know everything she does," said Drisinil, "and we don't know what
she thinks. Lolth does."
"But you don't know she sent the demons," T'risstree said. Born a commonerbut risen to a level of power and prestig
deference to the aristocracy e, she had evidently shed the habit of .them." "Perhaps one of Quenthel's mortal enemies sent
"What mortal possesses a magic potent and cunning enough to penetrate the
tem
"The archmple wards?" Drisinil replied.a
hand. Her tone was light, as if she spoke in jest.ge?" Vlondril offered, picking at the skin on the back of her "Even if he does," Drisinil said, "Gro
mph is a Baenre, too, and Quenthel
serving as mistress strengthens his House. He has no reason to kill her, and if itisn't he, then who? Who but the goddess?"
ess from House Xorlarrin. She'd worn a
long veil to the conclave, apparently so anyone who noticed her w"Quenthel is still alive," said a priest alking thehalls would assum
e she was engaged in a certain necromantic meditation ". Do
we think Lolth tried to kill her and failed?"
"Perhaps," Drisinil said. Some of her audience scowled or stiffened at whatcould be construed as blasphem
y. "She is all-powerful, but her agents are not. However
, I think she intended the first two assassins to fail. She
's giving her
priestesses a chance to ponder what's happening. To comprehend her perform our appointed task, and earn her favor once m will,
ore."
Vlondril smiled. "And we do that by mu
good, child, very good." rdering Quenthel ourselves? Oh,"We kill her ourselves," Drisinil agreed, "or
, if that isn't feasible, we at leastassist the next dem
T'risstree shook her head. "This is sheer speculation. Yonic assassin in whatever way we can." ou don't know the
mistress's death will bring Lolth back."
"It's worth a chance," Drisinil said. "At the very least, if we give the demons
what they want, they'll stop invading Arach-Tinilith. They haven'us yet, but if we don't help them, and Quenthel lives o t slain any of
n, they may decide to
eliminate us, too, for after all, it's a demon's nature to kill."
"The demons may be less dangerous than House Baenre," T'risstree said.
"The Baenre won't know who facilitated Quenthel's demise," Drisinil said.
T"So what will they do, wreak their veinilith? They can' ngeance on every priestess in Arach-t. They need us to educate their daughters and perform the
secret rites."
"If Quenthel dies," said a priestess leaning against the wall, "Molvayas has afair chance of becoming Mistress of Arach-Tinilith—but how do the rest of
us
stand to gain?""My niece has explained," said Molvayas, "that we'll all renew our bond with th
e
goddess and replenish our magic. Beyond that, I promise that if I becomemi
stress, I'll remember those who lifted me up. High priestesses,
lieutenants, ranking higher than any other instructor. Novices, your time at Arach- you will be my Tinilith will be spent far more pleasantly than is th
e rule. You, too, will exercise
authority over your peers. You'll enjoy luxuries. I'll excuse you from the more onerous ordeals and teach you s
ecrets most pupils never learn."
"We'll hold you to that," said another voice from the back, "and expose you if
you renege.""Exactly," said Molvayas. "You'll always be in a position to inform House
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Baenre of my guilt. Your numbers are too great for me to murder all of you, and d be stupid to play you false,so you know you can trust me to keep my pl considering that I'll aedge. Even if it were otherwise, I'lways need loyal supporters "."It's tempting," the veiled Xorlarrin said. "I'd take almost any chance to win my magic back. Still, we're talking about the Baenre."of the cave-in that w"Damn the Baenre!" Drisinil spat. "Perhaps killing Quenthel is the first rumble
"What cave-in?" T'ill bury the entire clan."risstree asked.
"I don't knowfall. It' , exactly," Drisinil admitted. "Still, consider this: Houses rise and s the way of Menzoberranzan and the will of Lolth. Thus far, House
Baenre has been the exception, perching on the top of the heap for century after century. Perhaps, with the old matron mother'sforfeited the goddess's regard. Why not . . . everyone knows T death, the family has finally riel is out of her depth. Perhaps it's time at last for House Baenre to honor the universal law.wouldn' If so, very minute in this vt it be glorious to commence the decline in their fortunes here, now, this ery room?""Yes," T'risstree declared.
Surprised, Drisinil turned to face her. "You agree?"but you convinced me." For an instSetting her razor-edged falchion aside, T'ant, she grinned. "I don'risstree rose and said, "I was dubious, t like Quenthel anyway. So yes, we'll usher her into her tomb, regain the goddess's approval, and run the academy as we please."
She extended her hands. Drisinil smiled shooting pains the pressure produced, then she turned to thand clasped them despite the twin e other females and said, "What about the rest of you? Are you with us?"she had hit on the way to propitiate LolthThey tendered a ragged chorus of assent. She guessed that those who doubted the temple hierarchy were nonetheless eager to move up in
, or at least disliked Quenthel. Maybe they were simplindulging the innate dark elf taste for bloodshed and bet yrayal.
Drisinil herself truly did believe she'd contrived the proper metaphysicalremedy for their woes but deep down, she was even more excited at the prospectof avenging herself on her torturer. How could it be otherwise? For the rest of her life, her self-mutilated hands would announce to any who looked that someone had once defeated and humiliated her.
"I thank you," she said to the other clerics. "Now, let's put our heads together. We have much to plan and only a little time before others will start to miss us."particularly inventive and viAnd plan they did, whispering, bickercious suggestion. Drisinil knew ing, occasionally grinning at some that some if not all of precisely what the plotters wanted exacthe scheming would come to nothing—it was too contingent on Quenthel's doing but the effort served to cement their commitment tly when and where they wanted it done—least the bare bones of to the conspiracy and to limn at a strategy.
Finally it was done. The priestesses started to slip out the way they'dand two at a time. The more restless come, one their turns. T'risstree was among them. stood in a clump around the exit, awaiting
Drisinil crossed the floor in as relaxed and casual a manner as she could affect.
She didn't want someone to realize her intent, and, surprised, react in someaudible way.No one did. All dark elves were actors in that they were liars, and perhaps she was a better dissembler than most. She sauntered within arm's reach of T'risstree,
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took hold of the dirk concealed inside her long, fringed shawl, and drove the
blade into the high priestess'her severed pinkies didn't hurt a bit.s spine. This time, for whateT'risstree's back archedver reason, the stumps of
and, to Drisinil's surprise, her teacher tried to flounder around to face her in a spasm of agony, . Her
arm shaking, T'ris-stree lifted the falchion.