蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第22部分

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〃Shortly　enough；〃　Drisinil　retorted。　〃Perhaps　the　goddess　gave　us　time　to　rectify　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　knows　Lolth's　ways　better　than　that。　Her　wrath　is　as　boundless　as　her　might。　Besides　which；　ArachTinilith　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。
〃In　any　case；〃　the　novice　continued；　〃Lolth　has　shown　us　her　intent。　Despite　our　safeguards；　two　spirits　invaded　the　temple；　the　first　in　the　guise　of　a　spider；　the　second　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　broke　their　bones；　but　they　didn't　try　to　kill　any　of　us；　did　they？　They　were　plainly　seeking　Quenthel；　and　they　sought　to　kill　her　and　her　alone。〃
Some　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？〃
〃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　moner　but　risen　to　a　level　of　power　and　prestige；　she　had　evidently　shed　the　habit　of　deference　to　the　aristocracy。　〃Perhaps　one　of　Quenthel's　mortal　enemies　sent　them。〃
〃What　mortal　possesses　a　magic　potent　and　cunning　enough　to　penetrate　the　temple　wards？〃　Drisinil　replied。
〃The　archmage？〃　Vlondril　offered；　picking　at　the　skin　on　the　back　of　her　hand。　Her　tone　was　light；　as　if　she　spoke　in　jest。
〃Even　if　he　does；〃　Drisinil　said；　〃Gromph　is　a　Baenre；　too；　and　Quenthel　serving　as　mistress　strengthens　his　House。　He　has　no　reason　to　kill　her；　and　if　it　isn't　he；　then　who？　Who　but　the　goddess？〃
〃Quenthel　is　still　alive；〃　said　a　priestess　from　House　Xorlarrin。　She'd　worn　a　long　veil　to　the　conclave；　apparently　so　anyone　who　noticed　her　walking　the　halls　would　assume　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　what　could　be　construed　as　blasphemy。　〃She　is　allpowerful；　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　prehend　her　will；　perform　our　appointed　task；　and　earn　her　favor　once　more。〃
Vlondril　smiled。　〃And　we　do　that　by　murdering　Quenthel　ourselves？　Oh；　good；　child；　very　good。〃
〃We　kill　her　ourselves；〃　Drisinil　agreed；　〃or；　if　that　isn't　feasible；　we　at　least　assist　the　next　demonic　assassin　in　whatever　way　we　can。〃
T'risstree　shook　her　head。　〃This　is　sheer　speculation。　You　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　ArachTinilith。　They　haven't　slain　any　of　us　yet；　but　if　we　don't　help　them；　and　Quenthel　lives　on；　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。　〃So　what　will　they　do；　wreak　their　vengeance　on　every　priestess　in　ArachTinilith？　They　can'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　a　fair　chance　of　being　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith—but　how　do　the　rest　of　us　stand　to　gain？〃
〃My　niece　has　explained；〃　said　Molvayas；　〃that　we'll　all　renew　our　bond　with　the　goddess　and　replenish　our　magic。　Beyond　that；　I　promise　that　if　I　bee　mistress；　I'll　remember　those　who　lifted　me　up。　High　priestesses；　you　will　be　my　lieutenants；　ranking　higher　than　any　other　instructor。　Novices；　your　time　at　ArachTinilith　will　be　spent　far　more　pleasantly　than　is　the　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　secrets　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　Baenre　of　my　guilt。　Your　numbers　are　too　great　for　me　to　murder　all　of　you；　and　so　you　know　you　can　trust　me　to　keep　my　pledge。　Even　if　it　were　otherwise；　I'd　be　stupid　to　play　you　false；　considering　that　I'll　always　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。〃
〃Damn　the　Baenre〃　Drisinil　spat。　〃Perhaps　killing　Quenthel　is　the　first　rumble　of　the　cavein　that　will　bury　the　entire　clan。〃
〃What　cavein？〃　T'risstree　asked。
〃I　don't　know；　exactly；〃　Drisinil　admitted。　〃Still；　consider　this：　Houses　rise　and　fall。　It'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's　death；　the　family　has　finally　forfeited　the　goddess's　regard。　Why　not　。　。　。　everyone　knows　Triel　is　out　of　her　depth。　Perhaps　it's　time　at　last　for　House　Baenre　to　honor　the　universal　law。　If　so；　wouldn't　it　be　glorious　to　mence　the　decline　in　their　fortunes　here；　now；　this　very　minute　in　this　very　room？〃
〃Yes；〃　T'risstree　declared。
Surprised；　Drisinil　turned　to　face　her。　〃You　agree？〃
Setting　her　razoredged　falchion　aside；　T'risstree　rose　and　said；　〃I　was　dubious；　but　you　convinced　me。〃　For　an　instant；　she　grinned。　〃I　don'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　and　clasped　them　despite　the　twin　shooting　pains　the　pressure　produced；　then　she　turned　to　the　other　females　and　said；　〃What　about　the　rest　of　you？　Are　you　with　us？〃
They　tendered　a　ragged　chorus　of　assent。　She　guessed　that　those　who　doubted　she　had　hit　on　the　way　to　propitiate　Lolth　were　nonetheless　eager　to　move　up　in　the　temple　hierarchy；　or　at　least　disliked　Quenthel。　Maybe　they　were　simply　indulging　the　innate　dark　elf　taste　for　bloodshed　and　betrayal。
Drisinil　herself　truly　did　believe　she'd　contrived　the　proper　metaphysical　remedy　for　their　woes　but　deep　down；　she　was　even　more　excited　at　the　prospect　of　avenging　herself　on　her　torturer。　How　could　it　be　otherwise？　For　the　rest　of　her　life；　her　selfmutilated　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。〃
And　plan　they　did；　whispering；　bickering；　occasionally　grinning　at　some　particularly　inventive　and　vicious　suggestion。　Drisinil　knew　that　some　if　not　all　of　the　scheming　would　e　to　nothing—it　was　too　contingent　on　Quenthel's　doing　precisely　what　the　plotters　wanted　exactly　when　and　where　they　wanted　it　done—but　the　effort　served　to　cement　their　mitment　to　the　conspiracy　and　to　limn　at　least　the　bare　bones　of　a　strategy。
Finally　it　was　done。　The　priestesses　started　to　slip　out　the　way　they'd　e；　one　and　two　at　a　time。　The　more　restless　stood　in　a　clump　around　the　exit；　awaiting　their　turns。　T'risstree　was　among　them。
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　some　audible　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；　took　hold　of　the　dirk　concealed　inside　her　long；　fringed　shawl；　and　drove　the　blade　into　the　high　priestess's　spine。　This　time；　for　whatever　reason；　the　stumps　of　her　severed　pinkies　didn't　hurt　a　bit。　T'risstree's　back　arched　in　a　spasm　of　agony；　and；　to　Drisinil's　surprise；　her　teacher　tried　to　flounder　around　to　face　her。　Her　arm　shaking；　T'risstree　lifted　the　falchion。
Drisinil　turned　along　with　the　high　priestess；　keeping　behind　her。　She　grabbed　hold　of　T'risstree's　hair；　jerked　her　head　back；　and　sliced　open　her　throat。　The　instructor　collapsed。　The　sword　slipped　from　her　fingers　and　clanked　on　the　floor。
The　onlookers　gawked。
〃T'risstree　T'h　meant　to　betray　us；〃　Drisinil　said。　〃I　saw　it　in　her　eyes　when　I　took　her　hands。　We　can　leave　the　carcass　here　for　the　time　being。　With　luck；　no　one　will　discover　it　until　after　Quenthel's　death。〃
Either　the　other　conspirators　believed　her　explanation；　or；　more　likely；　didn't　care　that　she'd　murdered　the　teacher。　A　few　congratulated　her　on　her　finesse；　and；　utterly　indifferent　to　the　corpse　sprawled　in　their　midst；　resumed　their　departures。
Drisinil　picked　up　and　examined　the　fallen　falchion。　Once　Quenthel　was　slain；　it　ought　to　look　nice　on　her　wall。
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Faeryl　prowled　the　rounded；　treacherous　surfaces　at　the　apex　of　the　ambassadorial　residence。　She　was　trying　to　monitor　all　four　sides　of　her　home；　which　entailed　clambering　about　with　a　certain　celerity。　Yet　she　was　also　trying　to　hide　from　anyone　who　might　be　peering　from　the　window　of　a　neighboring　mansion　or　up　from　one　of　the　quiet　residential　boulevards　of　prosperous　West　Wall；　and　the　faster　she　moved；　the　more　problematic　stealth　became。　She'd　sneaked　up　there　two　hours　ago；　when　everyone　else　thought　she　was　bundling　or　burning　documents；　and　she　still　wasn't　sure　she'd　struck　the　proper　balance　between　the　two　necessities。
She　wished　she　could　have　ordered　a　retainer　or　two　up　there　to　help　her　keep　her　vigil；　but　it　would　have　been　illadvised；　considering　that　any　of　her　minions　might　be　the　object　of　her　hunt。
She　also　wished　she　had　more　cover。　Except　for　a　few　token　walkways　and　crenellations　so　small　as　to　be　essentially　ornamental；　the　apex　of　the　stalagmite　keep　was　bare　of　fortifications　or　even　level　places　to　stand。　If　Faeryl　looked　closely；　she　could　see　subtle　signs　that　at　one　time；　when　the　keep　had　served　another　purpose；　such　defenses　had　existed　in　abundance；　but　subsequently；　a　wizard　had　melted　the　ramparts　back　into　the　rest　of　the　calcite。　It　made　sense。　The　Menzoberranyr　would　see　no　reason　to　gift　an　outsider　with　any　notable　capacity　to　resist　a　siege。
Faeryl　perched　on　the　northeast　side　of　the　roof。　Outlined　in　blue；　green；　or　violent　phosphorescence；　the　homes　of　her　wealthier　neighbors　glowed　all　around　her。　Had　she　looked　from　a　distance；　she　would　have　observed　her　own　residence　shining　in　the　same　way。　Fortunately；　the　luminescence　only　defined　the　silhouette　of　the　tower　and　picked　out　several　spiders　sculpted　in　basrelief。　As　long　as　she　stayed　away　from　the　images；　kept　silent；　and　enjoyed　a　measure　of　luck；　it　shouldn't　reveal　her　presence。
A　soft；　indefinable　sound　rose　from　the　northwest。　Grateful　that　she　at　least　still　had　the　brooch　that　would　make　her　weightless；　she　scuttled　quickly　along　the　sloping　pitch　of　the　roof；　fearless　in　the　knowledge　that　ev