«Again?» Triel sighed. «Yes, of course I will speak to them again.»
«You know,» Gromph added, almost as an afterthought. «It would probably help if House Baenre spared some extra soldiers for the cause. A show of good faith and all that.»
«Really? Do you think we can afford to spare them?»
«I know of two right outside this door who could be put to far better use,» the archmage replied, giving his sister a last, meaningful stare.
«Explain to me again what you think I have to gain by trusting you,» Quenthel said, gnawing at a strip of dried roth meat.
The seven of them were hiding in a mess hall in an unused wing of House Melarn. Only Jeggred was no longer hungry, having sated himself back in the dungeon.
It certainly took Faeryl a long time to die, Pharaun thought, shuddering, as he sat watching the draegloth lick himself clean. The wizard was having a hard time blocking out the image of the drow, still moving, still watching, even as the fiend had begun to feast.
Ryld and Valas stood guard near the door, both of them obviously anxious to be on their way. The rumbles from beyond the walls had ceased for the moment, and Pharaun wasn't sure whether that boded well or ill for them. If the fighting had been quashed that quickly, it was only a matter of time before Ssipriina began searching for them again. He was eager to be away, too.
As Quenthel continued to inhale the food, Halisstra pursed her lips and tried again to defend her usefulness to the Menzoberranyr.
«I can get you out of the House without notice,» she said. «I know the best routes to take. If we encounter any of Ssipriina's guards along the way, I might be able to dismiss them without incident. Until you're safely out of the city, having the two of us accompany you is to your benefit.»
Quenthel nodded as she ate.
«Perhaps,» she said, pausing to sip from a waterskin. «Or perhaps you would simply like to lead us into ruin in your own way, maybe by lulling us into trusting you so that you can betray us to Ssipriina. For all I know, you still hold me responsible for the death of your mother, or are at the very least angry about my intentions.»
Halisstra rolled her eyes where Quenthel could not see, and Pharaun had to quell a bemused smirk.
At least I'm not the only one who finds her unbelievably irrational at times, he thought.
«Yes, all of that could be true, certainly,» Halisstra said, «but then I wouldn't have had much to gain by helping to rescue you when Ssipriina already had you in her clutches, don't you think?»
«Hmm,» Quenthel said doubtfully, another bite of food in her mouth. She finished chewing and looked over at Pharaun. «What's your opinion?»
The Master of Sorcere sat up straighter, surprised that she was seeking his counsel.
I suppose that when you're surrounded by the bigger enemy, he mused, the smaller enemy seems a friend.
«Well, thus far they've given us no reason to doubt them,» he answered. «Except, of course, their heritage itself. Regardless of whether you're inclined to trust a dark elf you've never met—a dark elf of a House that you so recently intended to betray, at that—our options seem severely limited without their company. I don't suppose we'd be all that worse off, anyway, should they decide to turn on us at an inopportune time.»
Quenthel made a face at the wizard.
«Are you thinking with the right part of your body?» she asked sarcastically, nodding in the direction of Danifae, who sat on a couch off to one side, listening to the discussion.
When she became a part of it, she lowered her eyes demurely and folded her hands into her lap.
Pharaun smirked.
«Oh, absolutely, Mistress Baenre,» he said dryly. «Nothing would please me more than to have additional females along on this trip, all with a ready suggestion on how something should be handled or a friendly comment on ways I might improve my demeanor for the benefit of everyone around me.»
Halisstra's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and the wizard remembered again that she was unaccustomed to his manner with Quenthel.
For that matter, he thought, noting the high priestess's scowl, Quenthel herself is unaccustomed to my manner.
Taking a slightly more conciliatory tone, Pharaun added, «With all due respect, regardless of which part of my body I'm currently using to contemplate this matter, it seems undeniable that we stand much to gain and little to lose by trusting them, at least for the moment. Ask me again in half an hour, and my answer might be markedly different.»
Quenthel chewed her roth thoughtfully, though whether she was mulling his point or whethet she was considering whether or not to allow Jeggred to dismember him, Pharaun wasn't sure.
«In any event,» he finished, «we can ensure ourselves some degree of protection by keeping them close, under our scrutiny. If they lead us into a trap, we might yet negotiate with Ssipriina Zauvirr. . turn them over in exchange for our own freedom. Only if we don't tell the matron mother what happened to Faeryl, of course,» he added with a grin.
Halisstra's flat stare told Pharaun that she found both his humor and his insurance plan distasteful, but Quenthel seemed convinced.
The Mistress of Arach-Tinilith nodded after tossing back the last bit of water in the skin.
«Very well,» she said to Halisstra. «You will serve as our guide out of this accursed House, and if you serve us well, you will be rewarded with your lives. Do I make myself clear?»
Halisstra swallowed once, but she finally nodded.
«I think at least for the time being that your weapons and magical trinkets will stay safe and sound in our possession. If you behave yourselves, you may earn them back.»
Both of the other drow nodded their acquiescence.
«Good, then let's be on our way,» the high priestess announced, dusting off her hands after finishing the dried meat.
«Before we go,» Pharaun said, «there is the matter of 'where' to discuss.»
Quenthel looked at the mage.
«We ate returning to Menzoberranzan,» she said. «The expedition was a failure. Universally, Lolth speaks to no one, and the goods I had hoped to bring back with me to help us defend ourselves do not exist. We have nothing to show for the journey.»
«Exactly,» Pharaun countered. «We have nothing definitive to bring back with us—yet. I say we push ahead, continue to try to de-termine what is happening.»
«But we have nothing to pursue,» Quenthel argued. «We know little more about the Dark Mother's absence than we did before we left.»
«That's not entirely true,» Pharaun said. «As I mentioned before, the goddess's absence is not limited merely to our race. Regardless, I have an idea. While we may not be able to discern any more information directly, we could enlist the aid of someone who can.»
«Who?»
«A priest of Vhaeraun.»
Quenthel rose from the chair where she had been sitting, fury plain on her face.
«You speak blasphemous words, wizard. We will do no such thing.»
Even Halisstra had recoiled at the suggestion, Pharaun noted.
He raised his hands in supplication and pleaded, «I know it's unconventional, but hear me out before you dismiss the idea.»
Quenthel began to pace, and Pharaun knew she was at least intrigued, if not happy, with the notion. Her desire to claim the glory of discovery in this matter rivaled his own, he supposed.
«Just what is it you think a priest of Vhaeraun—«Quenthel formed the god's name with a grimace—«could do for us? And where would we find one who could—or even would—aid us?»
Pharaun leaned forward eagerly.
«We struggle to see inside the Demonweb Pits,» he explained, «but perhaps another god would not suffer the same difficulty. In this instance, with the proper sacrifices and deferential behavior, we might just be able to ask for a little audience in order to find out.»