It had been so long since she'd last felt the presence of Lolth, had last bathed in the goddess's glory and favor, that she wondered if she even properly remembered what it felt like.
Will it ever return? Is she gone?
Stop it! Quenthel silently scolded herself. If you are being rested, fool, then right now, your score is not high. Not high at all. Even if she did send you back for a purpose.
Jeggred opened the door and entered, stooping as he did so to avoid the low jamb overhead.
«They are back,» he growled, sliding the door shut behind him.
«Where in the Hells were they?» Quenthel asked, still pacing.
«They went for a walk,» the draegloth answered, shrugging.
Quenthel looked over at the creature, who was leering at Faeryl. The ambassador looked miserable under the fiend's scrutiny, and Quenthel wanted to laugh, remembering some of the things Triel had told her about the Zauvirr's torture at the hands of Jeggred. Even so, this was not the time.
Quenthel snapped, «Are those worthless males coming, or must I send you to fetch them?»
«They will be here shortly,» Jeggred replied, turning away from Faeryl to crouch in a corner. «The mage told me he had something he needed to look over before they joined us.» Even down on his haunches, the draegloth was as tall as the high priestess. His white mane of hair cascaded out behind him as he examined the claw of one hand, picking some fleck of something from its surface with the hand of one of his smaller arms. «They have been drinking,» he finished, not looking up.
Quenthel swore, drawing a look from Faeryl, but the high priestess didn't care.
Out carousing, like foolish boys! she seethed. When we return, they shall be put to work in the roth fields.
There was a knock at the door, and Quenthel stopped pacing at last, planting her hands on her hips as Jeggred rose to answer it. When he swung the portal open, Pharaun, Valas, and Ryld filed in. Quenthel was surprised to see the grim looks on the faces of the three males.
Before anyone had a chance to speak, Pharaun flashed, Someone was watching us today, with magic. No one say a word until I ward the room.
With that, he produced a small mirror and a tiny brass horn and used them to cast a spell of some sort, though Quenthel could not see any visible difference. Nor that she expected to, but the idea of the wizard performing spells of his own accord, like everything he did, made her uneasy.
«The city is about to boil over,» Pharaun said when he was finished casting. He took a seat on the couch and avoided looking directly at Quenthel.
He knows he's about to catch it, the high priestess thought.
«What do you mean? Who's been watching you? And what were you doing out there, anyway? Didn't I instruct you to get some rest and meet back here before the evening meal?»
«Actually, you did not, Mistress,» Pharaun answered as the other two found places to lean against the far wall. «You said that you were going to rest, and you specifically told us to leave you alone. Under such circumstances, I didn't see the wisdom in disturbing you with trivialities like a refreshing walk.»
Quenthel sighed. Once again the wizard was twisting her words around, using them to his advantage.
«As for who was watching us, I can't say. It might have been nothing, just a curious mage checking out some unusual-looking characters as a matter of course and moving on. Then again, it could have been someone specifically worried about us. I didn't see who was scrying. When I returned, I pulled out my grimoires and studied a spell that would detect scrying, though not stop it from happening. If I give a signal, everyone must be silent.»
Quenthel nodded once, curtly, knowing that the wizard was taking wise precautions.
«Very well,» she said. «What did you discover while you were strolling through the city that makes you believe it is about to 'boil over'?»
«It's true,» Valas said quietly from his corner. «The lesser races are growing restless. We witnessed an attack today.»
«So what?» the high priestess responded. «They squabble among themselves all the time back home.»
«Yes, but this was a gang of them, assaulting a priestess,» Ryld said. He was glowering, though at whom, Quenthel was not sure. «They were bold enough to kill her in front of everyone in an open plaza.»
«They would dare?» It was Faeryl, sitting on the edge of the bed, her red eyes glittering with anger, «And you did nothing?»
«Truth be told, she was quite inebriated,» Pharaun said, reclining on the couch. «Still, she provided us with the proof we needed. Ched Nasad's clergy suffers the same, ah … challenges that you do, Mistress.»
Quenthel had folded her arms beneath her breasts and moved to stand in front of the wizard.
«You did nothing to aid her?» she asked, turning her gaze toward the other two males, watching as they looked away, some notion of guilt on their faces.
Pharaun shrugged and said, «To have interfered would have only drawn attention to the fact that we were in the city, Mistress. If we are to continue to investigate, we must maintain our inconspicuous-ness. Besides,» he added, leaning forward again, «she was pleading for Lolth to return to her, right there in the open courtyard. She had clearly lost her resolution and was not, in my most humble opinion, fit to serve the goddess.»
«In your—!» Faeryl seethed. «The opinion of a mere male is counted upon for very little in most issues. In the matters of the sisterhood, it matters not at all!»
She stood, taking a step toward the wizard. With a gesture from Quenthel, Jeggred was instantly between them. The ambassador shrank back from her one-time tormentor.
«Faeryl, my dear, in this you are usually correct,» Quenthel said in her most soothing voice. It was one she rarely used, but in this instance she believed it was warranted. For his part, Pharaun gaped at her, which made her smile. «But, my dear, think on it,» the high priestess continued. «The wizard is actually correct, though he may have stumbled upon this conclusion accidentally, addled with brandy though his mind seems to be. I understand your fears, but you must not let them eat away at your logic. If a priestess loses her faith in such a public spectacle, does she do her sisterhood any service?»
Faeryl shook her head as she backed away from Jeggred, returning to her spot on the bed.
«No, of course not,» she mumbled at last. «She shames us all with her cowardice.»
«Precisely,» Quenthel said, nodding sagely, «and as foolish as it was for them to be out and about in the first place, these three silly boys would have only caused more harm to our progress if they had made a spectacle of themselves as well.»
«Forgive my impudence, Mistress Quenthel,» Faeryl said, her tone dreary «I have returned home to find my city on the brink of implosion, where thralls dare to assault priestesses in open markets. As you love Menzoberranzan, your city and homeland, so I love Ched Nasad and do not wish to see her come to this end. I forgot myself in a moment of emotion.»
Quenthel dismissed the apology with a wave of her hand.
«Understandable, in this time of crisis,» she said, «but you must learn to control that emotion if we are to move forward.»
«Do I take it, then, that you believe there is still more to be uncovered?» Pharaun asked.
«Perhaps,» the high priestess answered, pacing once more. «I am willing to hear what the rest of you think, before I make my decision.»
It was Valas who spoke first.
«I think it's unsafe to remain in the city for long, Mistress,» the diminutive scout said. «We have discovered what we came here to learn, and I think it would be wise to return to Menzoberranzan before riots fill the streets and we get caught up in another slave revolt, or worse.»