Extinction - Lisa Smedman [1]
"Jeggred," she snapped. "Withdraw."
Reluctantly, Jeggred backed away from the barrier.
"That's more like it," Pharaun said.
He lifted his right hand, fingers extended, and spoke a command word. His sword shrank, then streaked through the air toward his hand and coiled into a ring once more. He started the gesture that would lower the barrier, then paused as he saw Jeggred tense.
"I should remind you, Quenthel, that I could kill this demon spawn with a single word," Pharaun cautioned.
"Jeggred knows that," Quenthel said, indifference turning her beautiful face into an expressionless mask. "He makes his own choices."
Jeggred growled-whether at Quenthel or Pharaun, it wasn't clear-and spat against the magical dome. Rising to his feet, he stalked back into the forest.
Pharaun let the barrier fall.
"Now then," he said, straightening his elegant but travel-worn clothes and smoothing back an errant lock of white hair from his high forehead. "I apologize for stepping on one of Lolth's children, but I assure you it was entirely an accident. The sooner we leave the Lands of Light, the better. Not only did we just stir up all of Minauthkeep by killing the high priest of House Jaelre-"
"Your decision, not mine," Quenthel spat. Then, after a moment, she smiled. "Though Tzirik did deserve to die."
The serpents in her whip hissed their assent.
Pharaun nodded, glad that she was in agreement that the death had been necessary. Tzirik's magic had allowed their group to travel through the Astral Plane to the Demonweb Pits, domain of the goddess Quenthel served-a goddess who had fallen alarmingly silent, of late. There, they had discovered why Lolth's priestesses could no longer draw upon her magic: the goddess had disappeared. Her temple appeared to have been abandoned, its door sealed with an enormous black stone carved in the likeness of her face.
There had been no time, however, to learn whether that was a situation of Lolth's own choosing. As Pharaun had expected, Tzirik betrayed them, using his magic to gate in the god he served. Vhaeraun had attacked the stone face and nearly succeeded in breaching it when Lolth's champion-the god Selvetarm-appeared to defend it.
Realizing that Tzirik had no intention of letting them return, Pharaun had ordered Jeggred to kill Tzirik-telling the draegloth the order came from Quenthel. The priest's death had ejected Quenthel's group out of the Demonweb Pits, leaving only the gods behind. For all Pharaun knew, Selvetarm and Vhaeraun were battling there still.
If Vhaeraun won and succeeded in destroying Lolth, it would be the beginning of a new era for the drow. The Masked Lord favored males opposed to the matriarchy; his victory would no doubt spur the disenchanted males of Menzoberranzan to an even greater insurrection than the one that city had recently seen. But if Selvetarm succeeded in defending the Spider Queen, Lolth might one day return and restore her web of magic, lending power to her priestesses' spells once more. Whatever happened, Pharaun wanted to be on the winning side-or appear to be serving its interests, anyway.
"As I was saying," Pharaun continued, "not only is House Jaelre seeking us, but this forest is infested with wood elves. The sooner we get below ground, the better."
He paused to glance at the forest, squinting against the sunlight that bounced harshly off the white, slushy snow that covered trees and ground alike. The wizard regretted his decision to teleport the group there. His spell had allowed them to escape House Jaelre's keep, but the portal he'd hoped to use to put even more distance between them only functioned in one direction. They were trapped on the surface at the mouth of a shallow, dead-end cave.
"I wonder if any of the others have found a way down yet," Pharaun muttered.
As if in answer, Valas Hune