Extinction

Valas shook his head and replied, "Nothing that he mentioned to me. But the Lake of Shadows is wide?as large across as Lake Thoroot?and deep. If the ship sank, there'd be nothing to see."

"This rogue told you there were 'dozens' of wraiths?" she asked.

Valas nodded and said, "Those were his very words."

"An exaggeration, no doubt. What race was he?"

Valas frowned.

"The rogue?" he asked. "He claimed to be human, even though he was no taller than a duergar."

"Humans," Quenthel snorted. "A cowardly race. There were probably less than half a dozen wraiths, all told. With Pharaun's spells?and our magical weapons?we'll easily be able to fight our way through."

Valas opened his mouth?perhaps to protest that even half a dozen wraiths were too many?but he closed it a moment later.

Quenthel, meanwhile, took mental stock of the resources she had at hand. Valas, whose speed and stealth would allow him to get behind the wraiths and dispatch them with his magical daggers. Pharaun, with his arsenal of powerful protective spells. Jeggred, who would protect Quenthel at any cost, hurling himself headlong at the wraiths, if the need arose. And Danifae. .

Quenthel paused, considering. What good was the battle-captive, really? Oh, she groveled sweetly when threatened and gave pleasure readily enough, but Quenthel sometimes noticed a look in Danifae's eyes that she didn't like. Not at all.

Still, Danifae was a competent enough fighter, when she had o be. The morningstar she carried was no mere boy's weapon. If it came to it, Danifae could be abandoned to the wraiths, if the need arose to sacrifice someone. Truth be told, Quenthel would rather be rid of Pharaun?though she had to admit that his expertise with demons was going to come in handy, once the ship of chaos was finally located.

No, she'd have to make sure that Pharaun survived the encounter with the wraiths. Which meant making sure that if Danifae's life was threatened, the mage didn't try to defend her.

"We'll get by the wraiths," Quenthel told the others. "We'll reach the portal." Then, silently, so only the serpents could hear, she added, Or at the very least, some of us will.

Chapter Twenty-four

Gromph strode through one of the main corridors of Sorcere, followed closely by Kyorli, who scurried along behind him, and Prath, staggering under a load of spellbooks that Gromph had hastily assembled. Since the duergar had been driven back from Tier Breche, and the tunnel sealed, most of the students were heeding the call of their respective Houses. Apprentice mages ran this way and that down the corridor, arms laden with spellbooks and magical devices, bleating like a milling herd of rothe as walking chests scuttled along on spider legs behind them.

As he hurried along, Gromph held a circle of copper wire close to his lips.

"Wizards of House Baenre," he called, speaking through the enchanted wire. "Attend me at once in the scrying chamber."

The wire hummed, sending a tingle through Gromph's fingertips. Then it glowed a dull red and crumbled. Flicking flakes of copper from his fingers, Gromph pushed open the heavy double doors of the scrying chamber and stepped inside.

Like the rest of Sorcere, the walls of the large, circular chamber were lined with lead sheeting and plastered with a stucco made from gorgon's blood and spellstone dust. Runes had been embossed upon the surface and limned in gold to further prevent against unwanted intrusion or observation. No spellcaster, no matter how powerful, could teleport past them or probe the minds of the students and masters inside.

It was possible, however, to see out from there, thanks to an enormous crystal ball that floated at the center of the room. Into the sphere had been magically bound one eye of the eagle that resided in a gilded cage just below the crystal sphere. As Gromph and Prath entered the room, the eagle flapped its wings and gave a screee of excitement, blinking its one remaining eye. The sphere above it turned, rotating to face the two drow. The eagle's second eye, which filled the crystal ball from side to side, fixed them with a hungry stare.

Or rather, it fixed upon Kyorli. Snapping its beak, the eagle screeed a second time and hurled itself against the bars of its cage. The rat, taunting it, sat back on her haunches no more than a pace from the cage and groomed her whiskers, ignoring the frenzied wing flapping of the eagle.

Kyorli, stop it, Gromph ordered. Come here.

Obeying the telepathic command, Kyorli dropped to all fours and scurried back to her master. Climbing swiftly up Gromph's piwafwi, she settled herself on his shoulder, tickling his ear with her whiskers. Prath, meanwhile, stooped to place the spellbooks he'd been carrying on the floor.

"The eagle is hungry," Gromph told Prath. "Find it some raw meat?but don't go slicing off any more fingertips. You're going to need them."

Prath grinned.