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of it； though they weren't laying any enchantments he couldn't pierce。 In fact； since he was supervising them at their labors； getting past the wards would be easy。
〃I wonder if all this will actually protect us；〃 said Quenthel； scowling； her long skirt rippling in the stray breeze kicked up by someone's incantation。
Gromph was surprised that even after Beradax's attack； she hadn't donned a suit of mail。 Perhaps she thought her frightened novices and priestesses required a show of confidence。
〃It didn't protect us before；〃 hissed one of the annoyingly vocal snakes prising the whip on her belt。
Four of them were twisting this way and that； watching for danger。 The fifth kept its cold eyes staring at Gromph； not； the Archmage was convinced； because his sister suspected him of trying to murder her。 Or rather she did； but not specifically。 She simply had too many viable suspects。 There were subordinates who aspired to be Mistress of Arach…Tinilith； and the myriad foes of House Baenre。 Perhaps it was even Triel seeking to forestall the all but inevitable day when Quenthel would challenge her for preeminence。
〃Enchantments can attenuate with time；〃 said Gromph； honestly enough。
〃The new ones will be stronger。 Strong enough； I trust； to keep you safe in Arach…Tinilith。〃
〃It isn't just the temple at risk；〃 Quenthel snapped。 〃Next time； a demon could attack Sorcere or Melee…Magthere。〃
Don't count on it； Gromph thought； but he said； 〃I understand。〃
〃I've seen enough for now；〃 said the mistress； her scowl deepening。 〃Don't let your males slack off。 I want the defenses plete before you leave to cast your spell into Narbondel。〃
〃Consider it done。〃
Quenthel turned and walked back toward Arach…Tinilith。 The primary entrance to the imposing spider…shaped temple had bee merely an odd…looking hole。 The artisans hadn't yet finished repairing the crumpled adamantine leaves of the gate。 Gromph smiled to think how that must annoy his sister。 Knowing her as he did； he was fairly certain the unfortunotnate metalworkers had already felt the weight of her displeasure。
Well； perhaps they wouldn't have to bear it for much longer。 He finnotgered a small ornament； a black stone clasped in a silver claw dangling over his heart。
Quenthel hadn't asked about the trinket； nor had Gromph expected her to。 He always wore his amulet of eternal youth and the brooch that helped him imbue Narbondel with radiant warmth。 Beyond those two staples； he tended to adorn the Robes of the Archmage with a constantly changing array of charms and talismans； depending on his whim and the particular magical tasks he expected to perform that day。 His sister had had no reason to suspect that this particular trinket was of any particular significance； certainly not to herself。
If she had noticed it at all； she probably assumed the stone was onyx； ebony； or jet。 In actuality； it was polished ivory cut from a unicorn's horn after Gromph slew the magical equine…sacred to the despicable elves of the World Above…in a necromantic rite。 The orb was only black because of the entity he had placed inside it only two hours before。
〃That was her；〃 he murmured； too softly for any of the spell casters bustling about him to overhear。 〃Did you take her scent？〃
Yes； the demon answered； its silent voice like a nail scratching the inside of Gromph's head。 Though it was unnecessary。 I may not possess the power of sight； but that has never hindered me as I sought my prey。
〃I was just making sure。 Now； can you succeed where Beradax failed？〃
Of course。 No one of your world has ever escaped me。 Afterward； I will feast on Quenthel'