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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.