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ieve most everyone's here。 Let's get this done before our colleagues start missing us。〃
〃Uh； yes；〃 Drisinil said； gazing up at the rows of faces staring back down at her。 〃Well； mothers； sisters； we all know what happened last night。 The vipers in the mistress's whip detected the drugs—〃
〃So they did；〃 said Quenthel。
Startled； Drisinil spun around。 A figure shrouded in a cowled piwafwi rose from the first row。 She lifted her head； pushed the hood back； and stood revealed as the Mistress of ArachTinilith。 Somehow she'd entered the room without her enemies realizing her identity。
Quenthel pushed back one wing of her cloak； freeing the arm that held her whip。 She sauntered to the center of the room。 It occurred to Drisinil that at that moment the plotters could have fallen on their target en masse； but they didn't。 The mistress cowed them with her unexpected appearance； her contemptuous demeanor； and the simple fact that she was a Baenre princess。
The mistress smiled at Drisinil and said； 〃You've done well； novice； except for one detail。 It's traditional for priestesses to conduct their affairs by candlelight。 That's all right； I've taken care of it。〃 She turned toward the door。 〃e。〃
Two teachers marched in carrying silver candelabra。 After a moment； Drisinil； squinting； saw they weren't alone。 Many of the residents of ArachTinilith filed in after them； all well armed and wearing mail。
Quenthel beckoned to the plotters。
〃Move down to the lower seats； why don't you？ The lateers won't mind climbing to the top。〃 She waited a beat； then said； 〃That wasn't a suggestion。〃
The conspirators hesitated a moment longer； and the show offered convinced them to obey。
〃Thank you；〃 Quenthel said； then waited until everyone had taken a seat and the plotters all had armed loyalists at their backs。 〃Now； let's discuss the matter that concerns you so。〃
〃I don't know what my niece told you about this gathering；〃 said Drisinil's Aunt Molvayas； clad in a gown of a dark and shimmering green that matched her eyes； 〃but I assure you； its purpose is entirely innocent。〃
〃Its purpose is to contrive your death； Mistress；〃 Vlondril called out。 〃I know。 I've been in on it from the start。〃
Quenthel nodded to the mad priestess。
〃Thank you； Holy Mother。 Your candor helps move things along。〃 The Baenre surveyed her enemies and said； 〃I understand that your excuse for seeking to depose me was the supposition that the goddess desires it。 You postulate that she so abhors my rule of ArachTinilith that she renounces all Menzoberranzan。〃
Molvayas drew a deep breath； evidently screwing up her courage。 〃We do。 Do you deny it's possible？〃
〃Of course；〃 Quenthel replied。 〃It's a ludicrous notion unsupported by a single shred of evidence 。。 。 though I'm sure it seems plausible to the lieutenant who covets my position。〃
Drisinil noticed that while the Baenre appeared perfectly at ease； the twisting whip serpents were keeping watch in all directions。
〃What of the demons？ They reflect the attributes of Lolth—〃
〃And they e for me。 Because one of my mortal enemies sends them in guises intended to stimulate your imaginations。〃
〃What enemy？〃 Molvayas demanded。
〃That has yet to be determined。〃
〃In other words；〃 said Quenthel's secondinmand； 〃you don't know what's going on any more than we do。〃
〃At least I know what isn't happening。〃
〃Do you？ What makes your one opinion superior to all of ours？〃
〃The answer to that is readily apparent to those with some smattering of intelligence。〃
〃Insults won't resolve this matter； Mistress； but I can think of a test that might。 Step down for a year； and we'll see what happens。〃
Quenthel laughed。
〃Meekly surrender the Academy to you； Barrison Del'Armgo？ Not likely。 As it happens； I too have conceived a test to determine who truly enjoys Lolth's favor； your sad little cabal or me。〃
〃What do you mean？〃 Molvayas asked； wariness in her eyes。
〃My test is simplicity itself。 We simply ask Lolth whom she prefers； and await her answer。〃
〃That's insane。 The Spider Queen no longer speaks to us。〃
〃Perhaps if we petition； she will at least condescend to give us a sign。 Are you willing to try？〃
〃Perhaps；〃 Molvayas said； no doubt aware that with blades at her back； she actually had little choice。 〃Do you propose to perform some sort of ritual？〃
〃As we've lost our magic； what would that acplish？ My idea is simpler。 We all bide in this room； engaged in silent prayer and meditation； until the Dark Mother reveals her will。〃
Vlondril snorted。 〃What if she chooses to ignore us？〃
Quenthel shrugged。 〃I don't believe she's truly abandoned her chosen people or her chosen ministers。 My faith is too strong to credit such a calamity。 How strong is yours； Barrison Del'Armgo？〃
〃Strong enough that I have no fear of the goddess preferring you to me；〃 Molvayas spat back。 〃I just don't see the point of your scheme。 Lolth will speak when she wishes； not when we desire it。〃
〃It's not a waste of time if it's keeping you alive。 I could have had my loyal followers kill you the moment they entered the chamber。 Instead； I'm proposing an honest inquiry into your concerns； for the sake of all the temple。 Under the circumstances； what could be more magnanimous than that？〃
〃All right；〃 Molvayas said。 〃We'll remain for a time； but if nothing happens； my rades and I go free。 You can't chastise us if the results of the test are inconclusive。 That wouldn't be an honest inquiry。〃
〃Agreed；〃 the mistress said。
Drisinil was bewildered and appalled。 This strange； passive procedure sounded as if it could take hours。 She needed the antidote before her thundering heart tore itself apart； but she could do nothing to speed things along。
Though plainly just as puzzled as she； the pany obediently fell quiet。 Meditation was a familiar practice to all of them； though frustrating and futile since Lolth had receded beyond their ken。
For what seemed a long while； nothing happened； except that a muscle under Drisinil's eye twitched uncontrollably； and some of those whom she'd betrayed surreptitiously glared at her； wordlessly vowing revenge。 A tiny something scurried across the floor。 Or perhaps it did。 By the time she tried to focus on it； it was gone。
More minutes crawled by。 Cloth whispered as someone shifted position。 Later； somebody else smothered a little sneeze。 Drisinil realized she could just barely smell the ghost of the funereal incense Lirdnolu had burned when teaching necromancy。
Another mite scuttled along。 Drisinil saw that this one was a spider。 Nothing unusual in that。 ArachTinilith was full of the sacred creatures。 Still； something about this particular specimen tugged at her despite her sickness and terror。 She stared until she discerned that it had a blue shell with red markings。
That was a little odd。 This particular species generally spent its time lurking in webs； not roaming about。 Still； she didn't see why the anomaly should trigger a twinge of alarm。 It must be the poison clawing at her nerves。
Time dragged on。 A priestess on the lowest tier sang a hymn under her breath。 She was flat。 Another novice with mutilated hands surreptitiously checked the knife strapped under her sleeve； making sure the weapon was loose in the sheath。 And； Drisinil noticed； more black dots were creeping on the walls and floor。 More than were normal for a disused part of the temple？ She thought so； and she glanced over at Quenthel； seeking some sign to confirm her formless suspicions。 The Baenre stood motionless with head bowed； the very picture of a mystic absorbed in her devotions。
A novice with a gold earring cried out in pain。 She dragged on her shirt； baring her right shoulder； and found the spider that was biting her。 Her frantic efforts to remove the arachnid without hurting it should have been ical but Drisinil couldn't laugh。 Frazzled； addled by the poison； she could only stare at the dark flecks swarming thickly on every side。 Some of the other conspirators had started to notice as well。 They whispered to one another； and their eyes grew wide。
Something brushed Drismil's arm。 She cried out and spun around。 It was one of the Quenthel's vipers that had touched her。
〃Stay close；〃 the mistress said。
Once again； the spiders increased in number。 Somehow hordes of them were scuttling over the bodies of the conspirators； biting； crawling under their clothing； freckling their skins like the sores of some hideous plague。 Shrieking； no longer caring that the creatures were sacrosanct； their victims struggled to crush them and brush them off； but they couldn't get them all。 A few of the traitors retained the presence of mind to activate protective talismans； only to discover that the magic didn't help； either。
The one place free of spiders was the upper tiers。 Once they realized the creatures weren't going climb up and attack them； the loyalists mocked and jeered at the plight of the traitors。 Whenever one of the plotters tried to grope her way into their safe space； a loyalist would knock her back with a casual swat from a mace or whip。 Some even shot down with hand crossbows any conspirator who attempted to stagger for the door。
Drisinil did remain at Quenthel's side； and the spiders crawled over her feet but otherwise took no notice of her。 They didn't avoid the Baenre； ho