"Where's the beholder," she asked, "Pharaun, and Jeggred?"

Ryld jerked his head at the archway behind him. Another spell rumbled through the air.

"Back there somewhere," he said. "The beholder"

He was interrupted by the sudden, sickening awareness of an overwhelming presence approaching Jezz's barrier, something unseen that seemed to shake the very stones of the tower with its footfalls.

"The pit fiend comes," Danifae reported, panting for breath, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Go," Quenthel said, waving them forward with her good arm.

Without another word, the dark elves scrambled for the other exit, plunging into the next room heedless of the spells that thundered and crawled in the s.p.a.ce beyond.

Triel Baenre stood on a high bridge of House Baenre, gazing toward Narbondel. The creeping ring of radiance that slowly climbed the mighty stone column marked the pa.s.sage of time in Menzoberranzan. The glow stood near the pillar's upper end, which meant that the day would soon be done. Not for the first time it struck her as ironic that a race that had been driven from the world of light almost ten thousand years in the past would have the slightest use for marking the pa.s.sage of days and nights in the manner of the surface folk, when the night was eternal and changeless in the Underdark, but it had proven somewhat useful over the years to remember the endless march of unseen days in the world above. It helped in dealing with those who had more use for the custom, such as merchants who brought a few of the surface's more exotic and desirable goods down to the City of the Spider Queen.

Not that many of those had visited Menzoberranzan of late. War was hard on commerce.

The other question that came to Triel's mind as she looked out over Narbondel and the city below was somewhat less abstract: Who would be coming in an hour or two to cast the spells that renewed Narbondel's fiery ring? The office of archmage still belonged to her brother Gromph, missing for more than a tenday, but the Masters of Sorcere would not permit the high seat to remain empty for much longer. She'd learned that several of the more ambitious masters already maneuvered for the post. Doubtless Pharaun Mizzrym would have been among them if he had remained in the city, but the errand to Ched Nasad had fortunately removed the hero of the hour from Menzoberranzan at the very moment that he might have put his fame to its best use. She turned her head slightly and spoke over her shoulder to the loyal Baenre guards who stood a respectful distance behind her.

"Send for Nauzhror," she said. "Tell him I desire his counsel on a matter of some importance. He may attend me in the chapel."

Triel made her way to the great temple of Lolth that lay in the center of House Baenre's Great Mound, her attention far from her surroundings as she contemplated the multiplicity of troubles that had descended over the city in the past few months. She was almost grateful to the duergar for providing her with a cause to which she could rally the Council, and through them the dozens of lesser Houses that comprised Menzoberranzan's strength. A victory in the tunnels south of the city would do much to restore House Baenre's preeminence.

On the other hand, another setback could be disastrous. Even if Baenre remained the wealthiest and most powerful House, the Council might see fit to remove House Baenre as the First House. None of them alone, perhaps not even any two of them together, could hope to defeat House Baenre, but what if all seven of the other Houses on the Council agreed that it was time to pull down the strongest among them?

"Lolth preserve us," Triel muttered, and shivered with true fear.

In terms of numbers of troops, magical might, and sheer wealth, the other Houses had always possessed the wherewithal to destroy House Baenre if they chose to unite against the First House. What they had never possessed was the blessing of the G.o.ddess for an act of such impropriety. If the Spider Queen returned her attention to Menzoberranzan and destroyed the Second through the Eighth Houses for their presumption the day after they obliterated House Baenre, well, Baenre would hardly be helped by it. Without Lolth's wrath to deter the ambitions of the other great Houses, a unified attack against Baenre seemed more like an inevitability than a possibility.

The trick, mused Triel, is to keep the other Houses from settling th.o.r.n.y issues such as who would be First House after Baenre's fall, and tempt some of the smaller Houses with the places of the larger ones.

If Houses such as Xorlarrin or Agrach Dyrr could be convinced that they would advance with more certainty by supporting Baenre against a conspiracy of Barrison Del'Armgo and Faen Tlabbar than they would by turning against the First House, then House Baenre could withstand almost any threat from its lesser neighbors.

She paused at the door to the chapel, examining the notion with acute distaste. Could she really feel that House Baenre needed allies? The old Matron Baenre had not governed with anyone's consent. She had ruled the city because she was so strong no one could contemplate resisting her will.

Triel scowled and gestured at the chapel guards, who pulled open the doors and bowed before her.

Her sister Sos'Umptu awaited her in the chapel. Sos'Umptu had Quenthel's height, but took after Triel's thoughtful reserve as opposed to the willfulness of Quenthel or her unlamented sister Bladen'Kerst. Sos'Umptu possessed a calculated, deliberate maliciousness that she kept in careful check, never picking a feud she could not win. She briefly lowered her eyes, the minimal gesture of respect Triel's position demanded, then straightened.

"Any news from the army, eldest sister?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Not as yet. Zal'therra tells me that Mez'Barris has dispatched a small force to go ahead and seize a strategic pa.s.s in the path of the duergar army, which seems sensible enough. The rest of the Army of the Black Spider follows as fast as it may."

"It is a difficult situation. I wonder if perhaps you should have led the army in person."

Triel frowned. She was not accustomed to having her actions openly scrutinized by anyone, but if she couldn't survive the criticism of her family, how could she hope to cow the other matrons?

"Given the unusual situation," Triel replied, "I felt it wisest to remain close to the city."

"Perhaps. The problem is simple, of courseif the army is defeated, the blame will naturally attach to you. If the army triumphs, you have made a hero of Mez'Barris Del'Armgo."

"As well as Zal'therra and Andzrel," Triel pointed out. "I admit I have more to lose than to gain, but I will not second-guess myself now."

She studied the chapel, gazing up at the great magical image depicting the Queen of Spiders. While Sos'Umptu watched, Triel performed a perfunctory obeisance.

"You have not observed the G.o.ddess's rites as closely as you might over the last few tendays," Sos'Umptu said.

The G.o.ddess has not observed us for far longer, Triel found herself thinking.

She hurriedly thrust the blasphemous thought from her mind, horrified that something so irreverent could ferment in her head. She maintained her outward calm with the ease of long practice, returning her attention to her sister.

"We are confronted by yet another challenge," Triel said. "The Masters of Sorcere clamor for Gromph's replacement. House Baenre has placed archmages on Sorcere's throne as we liked for many hundreds of years, but this time, I am weighing the value of supporting the candidate of another House for the position. It might be ... expedient."

Sos'Umptu's eyes widened by the thickness of a blade, and she said, "You seek my counsel?"

"As Gromph has absented himself, and Quenthel is far away, I find that the children of my formidable mother are in short supply. Very few femalesand even fewer malesunderstand the lessons Mother taught us." Triel snorted in irritation. "Not even all our siblings, for that matter. Bladen'Kerst understood nothing but strength and cruelty, and Vendes was simply murderous. I have need of a sharp mind, a subtle mind, trained by my mother, and it occurs to me that I have allowed you to lurk in this chapel far too long." Triel moved a half-step closer and hardened her expression. "Understand that you advise me at my pleasure, and do not mistake consideration for indecision. I will brook no questioning of my right to rule."

Sos'Umptu nodded and said, "Very well. I think we should presume that Gromph has been killed. He would not have lightly abandoned his duties, and there are at least two reasons someone might have killed him. Either someone wanted to strike against the archmage himself, or someone wanted to strike against the leading wizard of House Baenre. If the former, well, whomever becomes archmage next will either be the culprit, or the next target. Why should we hurry to place a Baenre wizard weaker than Gromph into that position, when there is at least some chance we might lose whomever we promote?"

"I don't like the idea of surrendering such an important post to another family, but I like the idea of losing another skilled wizard even less," Triel mused. "Especially when we might forge a stronger tie with another House by allowing them to advance their candidate, who would then become the target of whatever power was strong enough to destroy Gromph."

"I don't understand," Sos'Umptu replied. "You seek allies?"

"It occurs to me that we might do well to ally ourselves with a great House of middle rank, perhaps two," said Triel. "It seems a sound precaution against any effort by the Second or Third Houses to rally the rest in common cause against us."

Sos'Umptu stroked her chin and said, "You believe matters have become as dangerous as that? Mother would never have agreed to such a thing."

"Mother lived in a different time," Triel said. "Do not compare me to her again."

Triel fixed her eyes on her sister until the priestess dropped her gaze. Sos'Umptu was clever, but not strong. If she joined forces with Quenthel, or maybe a cabal of the more capable cousins such as Zal'therra, she would be a threat to Triel, but until then she could be trustedwithin reason.

"What if Gromph's a.s.sa.s.sination was an attack on House Baenre," Triel asked, "and not simply a means to open the post of archmage?"

"In that case, we would be well advised to raise another Baenre wizard over Sorcere. Failing to do so would make us seem weak, and if the other Houses perceive us as vulnerable, they might be tempted to try the very thing you fear."

"Your advice does not provide me much comfort, Sos'Umptu," Triel grated. "And I am concerned, not afraid."

"There is another possibility," Sos'Umptu said. "Delay. Maintain that Gromph is still Archmage of Menzoberranzan for as long as possible. For that matter, spread the story that you have sent him off on a special mission and he will not be back for a while. The longer we delay, the more likely it is that events will make the circ.u.mstances of his disappearance clearer. If the Army of the Black Spider finds victory in the tunnels to the south, then your position might be strengthened enough that you can do as you will with the archmage's post."

Triel nodded. It was a sound piece of advice. Though she hated to admit that if Lolth continued to refuse her spells she might face a challenge for the leadership of the House, it didn't hurt her to begin strengthening her own ties to Sos'Umptu. She might need all the sisters she could get.

The door to the chapel creaked open, and a plump male dressed in elegant black robes entered. He resembled nothing so much as a housecat that had been fed too much, satisfied with his own superiority. Nauzhror Baenre was Triel's first cousin once removed, the son of one of her mother's nieces. His familiar, a hairy spider as well fed as the wizard himself, perched on Nauzhror's shoulder. He was accounted a Master of Sorcere, the only Baenre so recognized other than old Gromph himself, and was reputed to be an abjurer of some skill. Younger than Gromph, he had a habit of maintaining an insouciant smirk that made it hard to gauge what he was thinking. Try as she might, Triel could not imagine him wearing the robes of the Archmage of Menzoberranzan.

"You sent for me, Matron Mother?"

"I am going to make it known," Triel said, "that my brother Gromph is engaged in a mission of great importance and secrecy, and will return to resume his duties as Archmage of Menzoberranzan in due time. In the meantime, I am going to allow the Masters of Sorcere to designate a subst.i.tute to attend to the responsibilities of the position. You will support the best candidate from either House Xorlarrin or Agrach Dyrr."

Nauzhror's smirk failed him.

"M-matron Mother," he stammered. "I ... I had thought that perhaps I should a.s.sume the"

"Are you Gromph's equal, Nauzhror?" Triel asked.

The abjurer might have been soft in appearance, but his eyes betrayed a hard and calculating mindand a pragmatic one, as well.

"Were I the archmage's equal, Matron Mother, I would have challenged him for his t.i.tle already." He thought for a moment, reaching up to stroke the spider that sat on his shoulder. "In time I expect to equal and perhaps surpa.s.s his skill, but I must study the Art for many years before I can call myself his peer."

"As I thought. Consider this, then," Triel said. "Whomever engineered Gromph's disappearance will most likely make short work of you if you presumed to call yourself Archmage of Menzoberranzan. The day may come when you realize your ambition, cousin, but that day is not today."

Nauzhror did not hesitate to incline his head and reply, "Yes, Matron Mother. I will do as you command."

"You are now acting House Wizard of House Baenre, Nauzhror. If it turns out that my brother is no more, you will hold the position in earnest, but for now I have need of your spells and counsel. Settle your affairs in Sorcere for the time being. I will have your personal effects brought here."

Nauzhror genuflected and said, "I thank you for your confidence in my abilities, Matron Mother."

"My confidence in your abilities extends exactly this far, cousin: Do not get killed," said Triel. "As of this moment, any male with the least apt.i.tude for wizardry in House Baenre is yours to train. We need a cadre of skilled arcanists to equal those fielded by Del'Armgo or Xorlarrin."

"Such a collection of talent cannot be produced overnight, Matron Mother. It will be the work of years to match Xorlarrin's strength in wizardry."

"Then it is a work best begun immediately."

Triel studied the corpulent wizard and found herself hoping against hope that her House's future did not rest in his oily hands.

"There is one thing more, Nauzhror," she said as the wizard stepped away. "Consider it your first duty as House Wizard." Triel moved close and fixed her eyes on his, daring him to smile into her face. "You will find out what has happened to my brother."

Ryld barreled through a short, curving corridor, Jezz and Valas at his heels. Danifae helped Quenthel to stagger along behind them. The weapons master followed the corridor back to his right, and emerged into a large hall or ballroom of some kind. The beholder mage drifted there, a hulking monstrosity in the form of a chitin-covered orb six feet across, its ten eyestalks writhing as it hurled spell after spell at Pharaun and Jeggred. The wizard stood encased in a globe of magical energy, some kind of defensive spell that protected him while he dueled spell-for-spell with the monster. Jeggred stood immobile, his face locked into a needle-fanged grimace as he struggled to throw off the influence of some baneful spell or another.

"Persistent insects," the beholder snarled as it caught sight of Ryld and the others. "Leave me be!"

The creature floated back through an open archway, retreating to another portion of its lair.

Pharaun turned wearily to face the others. One side of his clothing was spattered with smoking holes, where some kind of acid had burned him, and he trembled with fatigue.

"Ah, I see my worthy companions have at last elected to join me," he observed. "Excellent! I was afraid you might miss the pleasure of hazarding life and limb against a murderous foe."

"What's wrong with Jeggred?" Quenthel managed.

"He's ensnared by a holding spell of some kind, and I expended all of my dispelling magic in my duel. If you can free him, please do so. I wouldn't want to be selfish, and keep the beholder all to myself."

"Shut up, Pharaun," Danifae rasped. "We have to finish the beholder, quick. There's a pit fiend and a dozen more devils just behind us, and we're about to be caught between the two."

The wizard grimaced. A dangerous light flickered in his eyes as he looked at Danifae, then at Jezz the Lame.

"If your magical tome is this much trouble, perhaps we should keep it for ourselves," the Master of Sorcere observed.

"Tzirik will not share the results of his divinations with you if you betray us," the Jaelre said simply. "Decide what is more important to you, spider-kisser, and do it quickly."

"Stop it, Pharaun," Ryld said.

He moved over to where Jeggred stood frozen, and laid Splitter alongside the draegloth to break the enchantment that held him. The half-demon blinked his eyes and scowled, slowly straightening.

"One problem at a time," Ryld continued. "Do you have any magic that can keep the devils off our backs long enough for us to defeat the beholder?"

The wizard answered, "No, they'd be among us in just a moment, and that would be a scene, wouldn't it? Thewait a moment, I have an idea. We won't keep out the devils. In fact, we'll let them in."

Infernal power crackled and snapped in the room behind them.

"That's the pit fiend destroying my wall," Jezz said. "Explain quickly, Menzoberranyr."

Pharaun began chanting a spell, and weaving his hands in the arcane gestures necessary to shape and control his magic.

"Do not resist," he told the others. "Ah, there we go. I've covered us all with a veil of illusion. We're all devils now."

Ryld glanced down at himself and noted nothing different, but when he looked back up, he saw that he was standing in the middle of a company of barbed devils. He recoiled momentarily, and noticed the other devils flinching too. Faintly, as though draped in a diaphanous gauze, he could see the natural forms of the other dark elves beneath their scaly exteriors.

"I can see through this," he warned.

"Yes, but you're expecting it," said the devil who stood where Pharaun had. "This should create no small amount of confusion for our foes, but we must move quickly. We want the devils to come upon us while we're dealing with the beholder."

The wizard glided across the chamber, following the beholder, and the rest of the company fell in behind him, hurrying after Pharaun as the howls of the pursuing devils rose in the corridor behind them. They climbed a spiraling stair and found the beholder waiting for them in what seemed to be a large throne room. The monster hesitated as the company burst in, cloaked in their devilish guises.

"The dark elves are not here," the beholder rasped. "Search the rest of the tower. They must be found!"

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," Pharaun laughed, and he hurled a blast of lightning at the creature that charred a dinner plate sized patch of its chitinous hide.

At the same time, Valas fired a pair of arrows that sank into its armored body, while Ryld, Jeggred, and Danifae broke into a charge.

The creature recovered from its surprise with incredible alacrity, whirling to flay the attacking drow with its deadly rays and spells. Jeggred was flung across the room with a telekinetic ray, while Danifae had to throw herself flat to avoid the incandescent green sweep of a disintegrating ray. Ryld got three steps farther before no less than three of the monster's thin eyestalks whipped around, spotting him at once and lashing out with more spells. A hail of incandescent bolts of energy streaked out to meet his charge, punching into his torso like the blows of a dwarven war-hammer. Ryld grunted in pain, and stumbled to the hard floor.

At that moment, a flood of devils climbed up out of the staircase behind them, pouring into the room. In the s.p.a.ce of half a dozen heartbeats, the scene descended into complete chaos, as the devils thronged the room, some turning angry glares on the beholder, others simply halting in confusion, surprised to find so many of their fellows already in the room.

From the floor Danifae pointed up at the beholder and screeched, "The beholder is in league with the dark elves! Slay it! Eat its eyes!"

The devils paused just long enough for the beholder to scour their front ranks with deadly spells, and they set upon it, flinging themselves at the monster. Rock-hard talons clawed and gouged at the beholder, while devils exploded under bolts of white fire or crumbled into lifeless stone beneath the beholder's eye rays.

Ryld had been about to leap up and engage the monster again, but he caught Pharaun's cautioning gesture, and feigned injury. The wizard's strategy was brilliantlet the beholder and the devils battle, and their foes might destroy each other.

"Weak-minded fools!" the beholder hissed. "The dark elves have deceived you!"

Still it wreaked terrible devastation with its spells and eye rays, trying to repel the devils' attack. The stink of charred flesh and the eldritch sensation of deadly magic filled the air.

A palpable sense of wrong flitted across Ryld's heart, and a hulking pit fiend climbed into the room. The mighty devil stood twice as tall as a drow, its torso rippling with muscle, its vast black wings mantling it like a cloak of ebon glory. It took in the scene with a malignant, measuring gaze, and Ryld's heart sank as he realized that the powerful fiend was not in the least deceived by Pharaun's illusion.

With one absent gesture the huge devil conjured up a great, seething orb of black fire in its claw, and hurled the sinister blast at Pharaun. The dark blot exploded in a tremendous explosion of evil flame that rocked the tower to its foundations, throwing Pharaun a dozen feet through the air and scorching him terribly as lesser devils and drow alike were sent flying like ninepins.