war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第40部分

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and　rustled　above　his　head。　He　looked　up　in　time　for　it　to　slam　him　in　the　face　and　knock　him　down。　Dropped　from　a　fair　height；　the　thick；　coarse　strands　of　rope　prising　the　net　struck　with　the　force　of　a　club。
Also　trapped；　Ryld　cursed；　the　language　vulgar　enough　to　make　the　Braeryn　proud。
Pharaun　needed　a　second　to　shake　off　the　shock　of　the　impact；　and　he　realized　his　current　situation　was　even　more　unfortunate　than　he'd　initially　thought。　The　net；　woven　in　a　spider　web　pattern；　was　animate。　Scraping　his　skin；　striving　to　render　him　pletely　immobile；　the　heavy　mesh　shifted　and　tightened　around　him。
A　foulwing　landed　on　the　street。　In　the　saddle　sat　an　otherwise　handnotsome　priestess　with　a　scarred　face…a　Mizzrym　face；　lean；　intelligent；　and　sardonic。　Strangely；　she　wore　a　domino　mask；　and　Pharaun　suspected　he　knew　why。
Grinning；　the　female　said；　〃I　knew　you'd　try　to　trick　me　with　illusions；　Pharaun。　That's　why　I　brought　a　talisman　of　true　seeing。〃
Though　he　wasn't　sure　she　could　see　it　from　outside　the　net；　Pharaun　made　it　a　point　to　smile　back　when　he　said；　〃And　you　were　correct。　Hello；　Greyanna。〃





Quenthel　was　immune　to　fear。　She　did　not；　could　not；　panic。　Or　so　she　had　always　believed；　and　in　fact；　she　wasn't　panicking；　but　she　was　as　desnotperate　and　bewildered　as　any　ill…wisher　could　desire。
She　wasn't　certain；　but　she　believed　the　vipers'　hissing　and　a　bump　and　clatter　had　roused　her　from　her　trancelike　state　of　repose。　She'd　opened　her　eyes　and　seen　nothing。　Evidently　someone　had　conjured　a　patch　of　darknotness　around　her；　or　worse；　cursed　her　with　a　blindness　spell。　She　opened　her　mouth　to　speak　to　the　whip　snakes；　and　something　cold　and　thick　jammed　itself　inside。
Her　throat　clogged；　she　was　suffocating。　Meanwhile；　something　else；　something　that　felt　like　the　cool；　dexterous　tip　of　a　demon's　tentacle；　slid　around　her　wrist。
She　yanked　her　hand　away　just　before　the　unseen　member　could　lock　around　it　and　thrashed　to　keep　her　limbs　free　of　the　other　tendrils　that　began　to　grope　after　them。　None　of　it　helped　her　breathe。
She　battered　furiously　at　the　space　around　her。　Logic　told　her　that　her　attacker　had　to　be　there；　but　her　fists　merely　swept　through　empty　space。　Her　chest　ached　with　the　need　for　air；　and　she　felt　unconsciousness　nibnotbling　at　her　mind。
She　did　the　only　thing　left。　She　bit　down。
At　first；　she　couldn't　penetrate　the　mass；　but　she　strained；　snarled　in　her　throat　with　effort；　and　her　teeth　sank　into　something　leathery　and　oily。
In　an　instant；　it　vanished。　It　didn't　yank　itself　free；　it　just　melted　away。
Quenthel's　teeth　snapped　together　with　a　clack。
Scrambling　to　her　knees；　she　sucked　in　a　couple　deep　breaths；　then　called；　〃Whip！〃
〃Here！〃　Yngoth　cried　from　somewhere　on　the　floor。　〃We　didn't　see　the　demon　until　the　last　second。　It　is　the　darkness！〃
〃I　understand。〃
At　least　she　wasn't　blind。　She'd　heard　of　demons　made　of　darkness　itself；　though　she　had　never　had　occasion　to　summon　one。　They　were　said　to　be　hard　to　catch　and　even　harder　to　bind。
〃Guard！〃　she　called。
This　time　she　didn't　hear　an　answer　and　wasn't　surprised。　The　invader's　presence　suggested　the　sentry　was　either　a　traitor　or　dead。
Quenthel　sensed　something　rushing　at　her。　She　flung　herself　sideways；　and　something　crashed　against　the　patch　of　wall　immediately　behind　the　space　she'd　just　vacated。　The　stone　floor　chilled　her　through　her　gauzy　wisp　of　a　chemise。
As　planned；　she　fetched　up　against　the　stand　where　she　kept　certain　small　pieces　of　her　regalia。　She　leaped　up　and　groped　about　the　rectangunotlar　stone　tabletop。　To　her　disgust；　a　couple　items　rattled　to　the　floor；　but　then　her　fingers　closed　on　a　medallion　of　beautifully　cut　glass。
Squinting；　she　invoked　the　trinket's　power。　A　dazzling　glare　blazed　through　the　room。　Quenthel　had　to　shield　her　own　eyes；　hoping　the　ternotrible　light　would　destroy　a　living　darkness　altogether。
The　magic　light　and　the　equally　supernatural　darkness　made　for　a　split　second　when　the　lighting　in　the　room　was　as　it　was　before　the　creature　had　entered。　At　least　Quenthel　could　open　her　eyes。
Her　assailant；　seemingly　unaffected　by　the　light；　was　a　ragged　central　blot　with　long；　tattered　arms　snaking　throughout　the　room；　ubiquitous　as　smoke。　Drinking　in　all　the　glow；　reflecting　none；　it　was　dead　black　and　deceptively　flat…looking。　It　thrust　a　long；　thin　probe　at　the　medalnotlion　and　Quenthel　jerked　the　token　aside。　The　shaft　of　blackness　veered；　pensating；　and　struck　the　medallion　hard　enough　to　knock　it　out　of　her　hand。　The　light　died　instantly　when　the　glass　medallion　shattered　on　the　floor。
Fortunately；　the　illumination　h