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ien emotions of an arthritic human seamstress dwelling somewhere in the World Above。
Somehow； despite all such disconcerting phenomena； she managed to read the spell on the scroll and avoid the radiant blade at the same time。
She wasn't sure how this particular parchment had found its way to Arach…Tinilith。 She questioned that a dark elf had scribed it； for it connottained a spell that few drow ever cast。 Indeed； some priestesses would disdain to cast it； because it invoked a force regarded as anathema to their faith。 But Quenthel knew the goddess would want her to use any weapon necessary to vanquish her foe； and it was remotely possible that this magic would prevail where even the supposedly invincible black blade had failed。
Bright； intricate harmonies sang from the empty air。 A field of bluish phosphorescence sprang up around her。 Within it； she could make out innottangible geometric forms revolving around one another in plex symnotmetrical patterns。
The cool radiance expressed the power of order； of law； the antithesis of chaos。 The sword that had bee an extension of the demon's will froze inside it like an insect in amber…and the demon was equally still。 For a moment； at least。 The creature began hitching ever so slightly forward； working itself loose of the restricting magic。
The Mistress of Arach…Tinilith was essentially a creature of chaos as well； but mortal and native to the material plane； and thus the spell had no power over her。 She wheeled and dashed to the body lying in the doorway。 Only the spider part of it was moving； chewing and slurping on the rest。
The dead girl turned out to be Halavin Symrywin； who'd had the surnotprisingly good sense to remove all that gaudy； clinking jewelry before atnottempting to attack by surprise。 The novice had managed the arbalest rather deftly； considering her sore； mutilated hands。
Quenthel stooped to pick up the weapon and the quiver containing the rest of the enchanted quarrels。 She moved warily； but the feasting arachnid paid her no mind。
She turned； laid a dart in the channel； and shot。 When the shaft hit it； the demon shuddered in its nearly immobile form； but didn't die。
It occurred to her that she could get away from it while it was trapped； muster any loyal minions who hadn't partaken of the poisoned supper； and fight the thing at the head of a pany； just as she'd originally intended。 After the harrowing events of the past minutes； the idea had a certain appeal。
But after what she'd endured； she wanted to be the one to teach this vermin a lesson about molesting the clergy of Lolth。 Besides； the appearnotance of strength was vital。 So she kept shooting as fast as the cocking action of the weapon would allow。 The demon inched its way toward her as if it was made of half…cooled magma。
Four bolts left； then three。 She pulled the trigger； the dart struck the demon in the middle of its horned； triangular head； and it winked out of existence。
She could still hear its voice； but knew that was just because it had shrieked so long and loudly。 She gave her head a shake； trying to quell the phantom sound； then glimpsed yet another shadow watching her from some distance away。
〃You！〃 she shouted； cocking the arbalest to receive the penultimate quarrel。 〃e here！〃
The other dark elf bolted。 Quenthel gave chase； but she was still a little winded from the struggle with the demon； and her quarry outdistanced her and disappeared。
The Baenre stalked on through the labyrinthine chambers and corridors until she rounded a bend and came face to face with three of her minions。 The goddess only knew what their true sentim