Extinction

And she had given him an order?a final order that had to be carried out quickly, before the wounded aboleth returned with reinforcements.

Wrenching himself free of the sticky doorway, Jeggred swam as fast as he could down the corridor, looking for a way out.

Chapter Twenty-one

Pharaun listened dispassionately as Jeggred gasped out his story. The draegloth was dripping wet and still making the transition to breathing air again. He sucked in great, gurgling breaths that might have been construed?were they made by a creature that was not demon-spawned?to be sobs.

"She's been eaten," Jeggred said, his head low and all four arms hanging dejectedly at his sides. "Mistress Quenthel is dead."

Pharaun regarded the draegloth coldly and said, "Thanks to you."

The comment normally would have caused Jeggred to leap forward, snarling for blood, but instead he stood as quietly as a rothe waiting for slaughter.

Danifae, standing in the tunnel beside the river, glanced at Pharaun.

"Is it even possible?" she asked. "Even without her spells, Mistress Quenthel should have been capable of defeating the aboleth. Her armor and enchantments alone should have protected her from?"

"He said she was swallowed whole," Valas interjected. "She never had a chance."

At the mercenary's blunt words, Jeggred's shoulders slumped still lower. Hunkering down, the draegloth wrapped his smaller arms around his knees and stared blankly at the river.

Pharaun nodded to himself. As Jeggred had been relating what had happened in the aboleth city, Pharaun grew increasingly certain that the draegloth truly believed his mistress was dead.

Danifae touched his arm lightly and asked, "What should we do next, Master Pharaun? You're the leader now?it's your decision."

Pharaun noted how Danifae had glanced at Valas as she spoke, as if she was watching the mercenary for any challenge to Pharaun's leadership.

Valas, having noted the same thing, grunted, then shrugged.

"Yes," he said, meeting Pharaun's eye. "What now? Continue the search for the ship of chaos?or make our way back to Menzoberranzan?"

Pharaun's answer was immediate.

"We're still under orders from the Matron Mother," he told them briskly, "and I am still under orders from the Archmage of Menzoberranzan. Until we hear otherwise, we continue our quest to find out what's happened to Lolth. And that means finding the ship."

Danifae met his eyes and asked, "All of us?"

Pharaun stared at her.

"Since you didn't keep your part of the bargain," he said slowly, watching for Danifae's reaction, "what reason do I have to keep mine?"

Danifae's eyes blazed as she lost her usual control.

"But you promised!" she spat.

Jeggred, sensing the sudden tension in the air, looked up and growled softly. Valas glanced back and forth between Pharaun and Danifae.

"Promised what?" the mercenary asked.

Pharaun ignored the question.

"You made a promise, too," the Master of Sorcere reminded Danifae in a low voice. He patted the spellbook he'd been reading earlier. "When you slipped away to speak to Quenthel, did you honestly think I wouldn't listen in?"

Danifae's hands curled into fists at her sides. Pharaun almost expected her to stamp her foot and turn away, but after a moment her fingers slowly uncurled. She stared hard at him as if trying to guess his thoughts, then she tossed her long white hair and gave him a sulky pout.

"You meant me to betray you all along," she said. "You knew it would make Quenthel more sure of herself. She might not have met with Oothoon if?"

Pharaun interrupted her by clearing his throat. He inclined his head at Jeggred, who had risen to a fighting crouch.

"What are you saying?" the draegloth growled.

"Nothing," Danifae said smoothly, giving Jeggred a seductive smile. "Pharaun tried to get Oothoon to tell him where the ship of chaos was and learned nothing. He knew Quenthel would be able to succeed where he had failed, and so he was jealous. He was planning to discredit your mistress?to tell your matron mother, if and when he succeeds in making contact with Menzoberranzan again?that he was the one who found out where the ship is, not Quenthel."

Jeggred thought about that for a moment. Then his lips parted in a snarl.

"He would have lied," he growled, understanding at last. "Pharaun would have made the mistress look bad."

Pharaun waved a hand dismissively, thus concealing a gesture that activated a protective spell whose incantation he whispered under his breath.

"There's no need to get angry," he told Jeggred. "It's just… politics. You'd do the same, in my shoes. Any drow would."