war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第103部分

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n　assailant　that　slipped　imperceptibly　into　her　mind。
The　enchanted　window　afforded　Gromph　a　view　of　the　interior　of　Arach…Tinilith　as　if　he　were　but　a　few　feet　away。　He　watched　his　sister　and　her　squad　encounter　wretches　whom　the　spirit　had　already　overwhelmed　with　the　infusion　of　an　evil　more　profound　than　any　mortal；　even　a　dark　elf；　could　readily　bear。　He　looked　for　some　sign　that　Quenthel　was　grownoting　afraid。　The　indication　would　be　subtle　if　she　let　it　slip　at　all；　but　pernothaps　a　brother　would　spot　it。
He　didn't；　and　eventually　Quenthel　ordered　her　minions　to　evacuate　the　building　and　sat　down　to　meditate。
The　Archmage　frowned。　Evidently　the　imperious　bitch　had　figured　out　what　was　going　on　and　had　in　a　sense　responded　appropriately。　But　it　shouldn't　matter。　He'd　withstood　contact　with　the　ultimate　essence　of　evil；　but　he　was　the　greatest　wizard　in　the　world　and　had　taken　precautions。　Quenthel　enjoyed　neither　advantage。
In　time；　a　sublime　cruelty　twisted　her　features。　Gromph　exclaimed　in　triumph；　for　the　netherspirit　plainly　had　her　in　its　grasp。　Evidently　she　wasn't　going　to　drop　dead　of　an　aneurysm　or　mit　suicide；　but　no　matter：　she　was　doomed。　Her　personality　erased；　consumed　by　the　notpulsion　to　degrade　and　destroy；　she　was　bound　to　provoke　someone　into　killing　her。
Then　she　broke　the　skinny　white　wand　in　two；　unleashing　a　magic　that　thrust　the　netherspirit　out　of　her。　Gromph；　for　all　his　knowledge；　had　never　seen　anything　quite　like　it。　Taking　on　just　a　hint　of　palpable　form；　his　agent　fled　the　scene。
The　Baenre　wizard　bolted　up　in　his　chair　and　threw　his　goblet；　smashnoting　it　against　the　wall。　He　cursed　foully；　and　the　malignancy　in　his　words；　hammering　through　the　black　lotus…scented　air；　made　the　greenish　flames　of　the　everlasting　candles　gutter。
Struggling　for　posure；　he　told　himself　it　didn't　matter。　He'd　get　her　eventually。　He'd　throw　entity　after　entity　at　her　until　。　。　。
But　what　had　happened　to　the　netherspirit？　Constrained　by　Gromph's　mand；　it　should　have　kept　attacking　until　either　it　toppled　the　pillars　of　Quenthel's　reason　or　she　destroyed　it。　Instead；　it　had　run　away。
The　mistress's　unfamiliar　magic　had　broken　the　binding…so　much　was　clear…but　where　had　the　creature　gone？　Back　to　its　own　world？　Probably；　but　something…a　slight　acceleration　of　his　heartbeat　or　a　subtle　prickling　on　the　back　of　his　neck；　perhaps…made　Gromph　want　to　check。
The　casement　responded　to　his　will。　Framed　in　that　rectangular　space；　the　netherspirit；　still　visible；　perhaps　as　tangible　as　smoke；　half　flew；　half　bounded　down　one　of　the　labyrinthine　corridors　of　Sorcere。　A　defensive　ward　activated；　piercing　the　intruder　with　crisscrossing　shafts　of　yellow　light；　but　it　tore　itself　free　and　charged　on。　A　blue…gowned　master　peered　out　the　door　of　his　sanctum；　spotted　the　wraith；　started　to　conjure；　and　the　intruder　stopped　him　with　a　sweep　of　a　shadowy　paw。　The　blow　didn't　rock　the　wizard　backward　or　leave　a　mark；　but　he　fell　like　a　block　of　stone。
Gromph　surmised　his　erstwhile　agent　was　ing　after　him。　Either　it　was　angry　over　its　forced　servitude；　or　Quenthel　had　done　more　than　merely　dissolve　his　control。　She'd　wrested　it　away　from　him　and　turned　the　entity　into　her　own　assassin。
Either　way；　the　spirit　represented　a　threat；　and　unfortunately；　Gromph　himself　didn't　know　its　full　capabilities。　Still；　he　had　no　real　reason　for　connotcern。　His　magic　was　more　than　a　match　for　any　such　entity；　especially　in　his　stronghold。
He　watched　the　netherspirit　flow　through　the　black　marble　door　of　his　office　like　water　through　a　sieve。　It　scrambled　over　the　white　bone　desk　and　headed　straight　for　the　hidden　access　to　his　sanctum。　Magic　crackled　purple　and　blue　around　it；　but　it　burst　through。　It　hurtled　up　the　shaft。
Gromph　smiled。　He　had　the　creature　where　he　wanted　it；　for　he'd　crenotated　the　passage　with　defense　in　mind。　Simply　by　focusing　his　will；　he　denotstroyed　it。
The　shaft　wasn't　made　of　matter。　Still；　a　metallic　crashing　and　grinding　sounded　through　the　hole　in　the　middle　of　the　floor　as　the　artificial　space　folded　in　on　itself。　If　the　rebellious　spirit　screamed；　its　voice　was　lost　among　the　din。
Gromph　would　have　enjoyed　hearing　it　squeal；　but　the　important　thing　was　that　it　was　gone。　Most　likely；　the　collapse　had　crushed　it　to　nothing；　but　even　if　not；　it　had　surely　ejected　it；　maimed　and　disoriented；　in　some　remote　halfworld。　The　crisis　was　over；　and　the　archmage　was　left　only　with　the　annoyance　of　transporting　himself　in　and　out　of　his　hidenotaway　via　spell　until　such　time　as　he　invested　the　six　hours　necessary　to　recreate　the　passage。
However；　just　to　maint