war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第82部分

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it　fell；　burning　as　it　went。　The　magic　spores　busting　inside　turned　the　fire　green；　then　blue；　then　violet。
Greyanna　screamed　in　fury　and　sent　the　foulwing　swooping　lower。　Ryld　looked　for　another　magic　arrow　and　found　that　none　were　left。　He　nocked　an　ordinary　one；　and　his　hands　began　to　shake；　no　doubt　an　aftereffect　of　the　punishment　he'd　taken。
For　a　moment；　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　was　finished。　If　he　couldn't　shoot　accurately；　he　couldn't　hit　one　of　the　foulwing's　vital　spots；　or　the　riders　on　its　back；　for　that　matter。　Nor　was　he　in　any　shape　to　fight　them　hand　to　hand。
Then　he　realized　he　still　had　a　chance。　He　surrounded　his　arrow　with　a　cloud　of　murky　darkness；　then　shot　it　upward。
The　descending　beast　was　a　huge　target。　Even　shooting　blind　with　tremnotbling　hands；　he　had　a　fair　chance　of　hitting　in　somewhere；　and　the　foul…wing　gave　a　double　shriek　that　told　him　he'd　succeeded。
He　watched　the　mass　of　darkness　he'd　created　tumble　and　zigzag　drunkenly　through　the　air。　Stung；　suddenly　and　inexplicably　sightless；　the　winged　mount　inside　had　panicked；　and　Greyanna　was　evidently　unable　to　control　it。　She　quite　possibly　could　have　dissolved　the　darkness　with　some　scroll　or　talisman；　but　she　couldn't　see　either　or　lay　hands　on　her　equipment　easily　with　the　foulwing　lurching　and　swooping　about　beneath　her。
Ryld　snapped　the　head　off　the　arrow　in　his　leg　and　pulled　the　offendnoting　object　out。　He　gathered　up　the　healing　potions；　and　quickly　as　he　was　able；　activated　the　magic　in　his　talisman；　floated　down　off　the　roof；　and　limped　away。

















C　h　a　p　t　e　r


T　H　I　R　T　E　E　N
As　Quenthel　skulked　down　the　corridor；　it　occurred　to　her　that　at　the　same　time；　Gromph　was　casting　his　radiant　heat　into　the　base　of　Narbondel。　Even　revelers　and　necromancers　were　settling　in　for　a　rest。　She；　however；　was　too　busy　to　do　the　same。　She　wouldn't　have　a　chance　to　relax　until　late　the　next　night；　unless；　of　course；　she　wound　up　resting　forever。
Fortunately；　one　of　the　Baenre　alchemists　brewed　a　stimulant　to　delay　the　onset　of　the　aching　eyes；　fuzzy　head；　and　leaden　limbs　that　lack　of　rest　produced。　Quenthel　extracted　a　silver　vial　of　the　stuff　from　one　of　the　pouches　on　her　belt　and　took　a　sip　of　it。　She　gasped；　and　her　shoulder　muscles　jumped。　Jolted　back　to　alertness；　she　continued　on　her　way。
In　another　minute；　she　reached　the　door　to　Drisinil's　quarters。　In　defernotence　to　the　status　of　her　family；　the　novice　resided　in　one　of　Arach…Tinilith's　most　fortable　student　habitations。　Quenthel　regretted　not　sticking　her　in　a　dank　little　hole。　Perhaps　then　the　girl　would　have　learned　her　place。
The　high　priestess　inspected　the　arched　limestone　panel　that　was　the　door。　She　couldn't　see　any　magical　wards。
〃Is　it　safe？〃　she　whispered　to　the　vipers。
〃We　believe　so；〃　Yngoth　replied。
How　reassuring；　Quenthel　thought；　but　it　was　either　trust　them　or　use　another　precious；　irreplaceable　scroll　to　wipe　away　protections　that　probanotbly　didn't　exist。
She　activated　the　power　of　her　brooch。　When　a　novice　came　to　Arach…Tinilith；　the　enchantments　on　certain　doors　were　keyed　to　allow　her　to　enter；　based　on　the　unique　magical　signature　of　her　House　insignia；　rooms　the　high　priestesses　deemed　it　necessary　for　her　to　pass　into。　Only　Quenthel's　brooch　could　unlock　them　all。
She　unlocked　Drisinil's　door　and　warily　cracked　it　open。　No　magic　sparked；　nor　did　any　mechanical　trap　jab　a　blade　at　her。　As　quietly　as　she　could；　Quenthel　crept　on　into　the　suite。　Sensing　her　desire　for　quiet；　the　snakes　hung　mute　and　limp。
She　found　Drisinil　sitting　motionless　in　a　chair；　her　bandaged；　mutinotlated　hands　in　her　lap。　For　a　moment；　Quenthel；　thinking　the　other　female　must　have　a　dauntless　spirit　to　enter　the　Reverie　at　such　a　perilous　time；　rather　admired　her…then　she　caught　the　smell　of　brandy；　and　noticed　the　bottle　lying　in　a　puddle　of　liquor　on　the　floor。
Quenthel　stalked　toward　the　novice。　It　occurred　to　her　that　she　was　doing　to　Drisinil　as　the　living　darkness　had　done　to　her。　The　thought　vaguely　amused　her；　perhaps　simply　because　she　was　finally　the　predator；　not　the　prey。　Smiling；　she　gently　laid　the　vipers　across　the　other　drow's　face　and　upper　torso。　The　snakes　hissed　and　writhed。
Drisinil　roused　with　a　cry　and　a　start。　She　started　to　rear　up；　and　Quennotthel　pushed　her　back　down　in　her　chair。
〃Sit！〃　the　Baenre　snapped；　〃or　the　serpents　will　bite。〃
Her　wide　eyes　framed　by　the　cool；　scaly　loops　of　the　vipers；　Drisinil　stopped　struggling。
〃Mistress；　what's　wrong？〃
Quenthel　smiled　and　said；　〃Very　good；　child；　you　sound　sincere。　After　your　first　ploy　failed；　you　should