Insurrection

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 a

«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.»

«Few of his ilk would even consider helping us,» Quenthel said, waving her hand in dismissal, «and we know of none to even ask.»

As Quenthel turned her back on him during her pacing, Pharaun looked over at Valas and nodded in encouragement.

Tell her, he signed.

Taking a deep breath and nodding, Valas said, «I know one.»

Quenthel turned to face the diminutive scout.

«What?»

«I know a priest of Vhaeraun,» Valas replied. «An old acquaintance of mine, Tzirik Jaelre. I think he would be willing.»

«Really,» Quenthel said, eyeing Pharaun and Valas alike, as though suspecting that the two were collaborating. «What makes you think he would help us?»

The mage carefully studied the tabletop in front of him.

She is too clever for her own good, he thought, knowing that if he admitted his foreknowledge, Quenthel was as likely as not to dismiss the whole idea just to spite him.

«He owes me a favor,» Valas replied. «At the very least, he owes me enough to hear us out, even if he refuses. I don't think he'll refuse.»

«How convenient. Pharaun?»

The wizard looked up, pretending to be thinking about something else.

«Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, it is very convenient that Valas knows someone who fits the bill. I wish you'd said something earlier,» he said to the scout, «but I guess we can't all conceive of these flashes of brilliance. If Valas vouches for his friend then I say, what do we have to lose?»

Quenthel opened her mouth, possibly to retort, by the look on her face, but she never got the words out. A shock wave far stronger than any they had felt previously coursed through the House, knocking them and most of the furniture over.

«By the Dark Mother!» Halisstra screamed, stumbling against a wall. «The whole House is coming down!»