Extinction - Lisa Smedman [89]
It was also possible that Lolth had returned from wherever she'd gone to, and that her priestesses were once again able to use their spells.
"Uluyara will want to know about this," Halisstra said. She moved to one end of the cloak on which the priestess lay, and grasped its two corners. "Let's get the body to the temple-at once."
Chapter Twenty-three
Sculling to keep herself just beneath the surface of the lake, Quenthel waited until the spell that allowed her to breathe water ended. When her lungs began to feel tight and hot, she exhaled the last of the lake water from them and let her head break the surface. Then, treading water and coughing slightly, she touched the brooch on her chest. She rose smoothly into the spray-filled air beside the waterfall, at last drawing level with the tunnel.
Jeggred was sitting just inside it brooding, staring out across the lake. When he saw her his eyes widened. Letting out a howl of delight, he leaped to his feet, cracking his head against the low ceiling and splitting his scalp. Oblivious to the blood that flowed freely through his thick white hair, he broke into gulping laughter.
"Mistress!" he barked.
Quenthel landed lightly on the ledge beside him. Crouching low, she scrambled into the tunnel. Jeggred leaped forward, his massive fighting arms wide as if he were actually about to embrace her, of all things. Quenthel's stern look-and the twitching of her vipers-warned him off, and instead he groveled at her feet. Not daring to couch her, he kissed the cold stone in front of her feet, whimpering softly.
Quenthel half-hoped Jeggred would ask how she'd managed to escape the aboleth. She would have relished relating how clever she'd been. But, being a draegloth, he was far too literal-minded for that. His mistress had been eaten, but now she was alive again. That much was enough. That-and the comfort of having someone to give him commands again.
Curling her fingers like a spider's legs, she touched them momentarily to his shoulder and watched his mane ripple as he writhed with pleasure. Then she turned to more pressing matters.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
Jeggred pointed behind him, back down the tunnel, and said, "In another cavern. That way."
Stooping to avoid the low ceiling, Quenthel set off in the direction indicated. Jeggred trailed behind her, ducking his head subserviently and silently pointing each time she glanced at him for directions. After a while, the ceiling became higher, and they were able to walk upright. They were going back the way they had come, still following the river. Up ahead Quenthel could hear voices, one male, the other recognizable as Danifae's by the audible pout of the words. Quenthel remembered a larger cavern, just ahead. By the echo of their voices she guessed they were probably standing inside it, talking.
"Why were you alone?" Quenthel asked Jeggred. "Did the others leave you behind after Pharaun failed to return?"
When Jeggred didn't answer immediately, she glanced back at him. The draegloth had a confused frown on his face.
"The wizard did return," he answered.
Quenthel ground her teeth, irritated, and felt her whip-vipers writhing against her hip. Sometimes her nephew could be so thickheaded.
"I know he came back the first time he went to speak to Oothoon," she said. "I was talking about the second time he-"
Hearing a third voice-one she recognized-Quenthel stopped so abruptly that Jeggred bumped into her from behind. So surprised was she by the sound of the voice, she didn't even think to draw her whip and lash the draegloth for this transgression. Instead she swore softly under her breath-a curse that would have invoked the wrath of Lolth, had the goddess been able to hear it-then she rushed forward, scrambling up the incline that led away from the river tunnel, toward the cavern from which the voices came.
The entrance to the cavern was a narrow one, and Quenthel had to squeeze past a mushroom-shaped stalagmite to get inside.