Resurrection

Nauzhror nodded and said, "The temple was utterly consumed in the blast, Archmage, along with many of the House's forces. In the aftermath, House Xorlarrin breached the walls at last. It seemed as though House Agrach Dyrr would fall, annihilated by the Xorlarrin. But. ."

"But?" Gromph prompted.

"But Matron Mother Baenre arrived with a contingent of Baenre troops and halted the assault.

She met with Anival Dyrr, now apparently Matron Mother of House Agrach Dyrr, and it appears they reached an understanding. House Agrach Dyrr will survive as a vassal House to House

Baenre."

Gromph smiled through his pain. Anival and House Agrach Dyrr would be beholden to Triel for centuries, essentially an extension of House Baenre. His sister once again had surprised him.

He reminded himself never to underestimate her again.

"You have done the city a great service, Archmage," Nauzhror said.

"Indeed," Prath echoed, looking up from his search.

Gromph nodded. He knew that. But the healing would be long, for himself and the city. For a moment, he wondered what had happened to the duergar axe with which he had destroyed the phylactery and taken the lichdrow's soul. He had left it behind in the temple.

He put such thoughts from his mind. The lichdrow was destroyed for good.

He hoped.

"The healing salves, apprentice," he called to Prath.

Quenthel stared up into Lolth's face, into Danifae's face, and tried to control her anger, her disappointment, her shame.

Danifae Yauntyrr, a Houseless battle-captive, was Lolth's Yor'thae.

Quenthel's rage burned so hot she could scarcely breathe. Her shame weighed so much she could hardly stand. Halisstra lay on her face beside Quenthel. The high priestess looked at her,

looked at the eight bodies of Lolth, at Danifae's form sticking out of the body of the largest, and slowly, with great difficulty, put her head to the floor.

Quenthel might not have been the Yor'thae but she remained a loyal servant of Lolth.

When she looked up, she dared ask, "Why?"

Anger crept into her voice, and once it started, it poured out.

"Why bring me back from the dead?" she demanded. "Why make me Mistress of Arach-

Tinilith if only to do … this?"

She thought back to the many times she could have killed Danifae outright and rebuked herself for her mistake. She had been a fool, an arrogant fool.

Lolth's eight bodies surged forward, with the eighth at their center. Quenthel thought she was going to die, but instead Danifae-Lolth! — reached forth with a drow hand and stroked Quenthel's hair, an inexplicably gentle gesture. When she spoke, her voice was eight voices, but Danifae's was loudest.

"You seek reasons, daughter, purpose, and that is your failing. Do you not see? Chaos offers no reasons, has no purpose. It is what it is and that is enough."

Quenthel heard the words and in them understood how she had failed her goddess. In that failure, she had failed her House and herself.

She did not have it in her to cry at her failure, not in front of her goddess, especially not in front of her goddess. She would not give Danifae, or what was left of Danifae, the satisfaction.

She lifted her head and looked into Lolth's gray, drow eyes-Danifae's eyes. "Kill me, then. I

will not beg for my life."

She almost added the blasphemous, "from you," to the end of her statement, meaning Danifae.

But Danifae was no longer just Danifae, and Quenthel had to come to terms with that. Danifae was part of Lolth, the Spider Queen, the Queen of the Demonweb Pits, Quenthel's goddess, and in a form greater than before.

Lolth's full lips curved back in a smile to reveal not teeth but a spider's fangs.

"And that is why you will live," Lolth said.

Quenthel was not sure if she felt relief, shame, or both. She said nothing, merely bowed her head.

"Leave my tabernacle, Mistress of Arach-Tinilith," Lolth said. "Return to Menzoberranzan and continue to head my faith in that city. Tell what you have seen here."

She stroked Quenthel's hair a second time, less gently, as though controlling an impulse to kill.

"Now," the goddess said. She indicated Halisstra with a nod and added, "Leave this one with me."

Quenthel did not question. She rose, turned, and strode between the abyssal widows until she was out of the temple.

Halisstra could not move. She had heard the Spider Queen speak to Quenthel, but the words did not register, simply skipped off of Halisstra's hearing.

Danifae was the Yor'thae. Lolth was reborn.

After a time, Quenthel turned, gave Halisstra one final look-a mixture of hate and respect-and exited the temple.

Lolth had promised that only one would leave the temple alive. Quenthel had just left-alive.

Halisstra was going to die.

The goddess looked upon her. She felt the weight of Lolth's gazes. She awaited the bite of the goddess's mandibles, as she had seen in her vision.

It did not come.

She dared a look up into Lolth's face and saw Danifae there, but also so much more. She still clutched Seyll's sword. She released it and shoved it from her.