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with potent magic。 I suspect that leather bag holds nine sets of servant creanottures； each deadlier than the one before。〃
〃In that case； why didn't she chuck them all at us？〃
〃Perhaps； in the absence of her innate powers； she was trying to connotserve her other resources。 Alas； she may not be so parsimonious next time。〃
〃So what do we do？〃
〃Well； you know； I truly do want to kill Greyanna。 I always have； but I suppose the prudent course is to avoid our hunters if possible。 If not； we'll do what we must to survive。 I may at least make a point of disposing of Relonor。 I suspect he located us with divinatory magic。 He was always good at that。〃
〃Can you shield us？〃
〃Perhaps。 I intend to try。 Stay right where you are； and don't speak。〃
Pharaun rose and reached into one of his pockets。 Out in the lake； something big jumped。 Noticing the splash； an ore on a raft grunted to his fellows； and they readied their barb…headed lances。
C h a p t e r
N I N E
As Drisinil took hold of the door handle； the stump of her little finger throbbed beneath its dressing。 The novice still found it difficult to believe that； after fighting for her life against the demon spider； Mistress Quenthel had immediately returned to the matter of the would…be truants and their self…inflicted punishment。 It bespoke a calm and meticulous nature。 Drisinil admired those qualities； but it didn't make her hate their exemplar any less。
She took a final glance around the deserted corridor。 No one was about； and no one was supposed to be； not in that length of that particular wing of Arach…Tinilith at that hour of the night。
She slipped through the sandstone door and pulled it shut behind her。 Unlike much of the temple； no lamps； torches； or candles burned in the room beyond the threshold。 That was by design； to keep a telltale gleam from leaking out under the door。
Drisinil's sister conspirators awaited her。 Some were novices with bandnotaged hands； just like herself。 Others were instructors。 Those high priestnotesses； hampered by their dignity； were having some difficulty making themselves fortable among the haphazardly stacked boxes and tangles of furniture littering the half…forgotten storeroom。 Of course； it didn't help that they hesitated to clear away the shrouds of filthy cobwebs dangling everywhere for fear a living spider remained within。
Drisinil wondered if that particular prohibition made sense any longer。 Perhaps spiders were no longer sacred。
Then； angry at herself； she pushed the blasphemous thought away。 Lolth abided； beyond any question； and was likely to chastise those who even for a moment imagined otherwise。
Once she wrenched her mind back to immediate concerns； Drisinil was momentarily nonplussed to find the pany regarding her expectantly。 Did they expect her to preside over the meeting？
But then again； why not？ She might be a novice； but she was Barrison Del'Armgo as well； and breeding mattered； perhaps more than ever when even the most powerful priestesses were running out of magic。 Besides； the secret gathering had been her idea。
〃Good evening；〃 she said。 〃Thank you all for attending；〃…she smiled wryly…〃and for not reporting me to Quenthel Baenre。〃
〃We still could；〃 said Vlondril Tuin'Tarl； a strange smile on her wrinnotkled lips。 〃Your task is to convince us we shouldn't。〃
The teacher was so old that she had begun to wither like a human crone。 Most folk believed her mystical contemplations of ultimate chaos had left her a little mad。 No one； not even another instructor； had opted to sit in her immediate vicinity。
〃W