Pharaun shook his throbbing head to help clear it and drew a handkerchief from an inner pocket and wiped off his face as best he could. The white silk came back black with ash and red with blood.
Through the ring of flames, Pharaun saw the chwidencha circling, watching them through the breaks in the fire. Beyond the chwidencha, he still caught glimpses of the violence of the Teeming.
"How long, mage?" Quenthel asked.
"Not long enough, unfortunately," he answered. "Perhaps a quarter hour. How long does this Teeming last?"
Quenthel belted her whip and shook her head. Pharaun wasn't sure if that meant she didn't know or simply didn't want to answer.
"It lasts as long as Lolth wills it," Danifae offered, belting her own weapon. She ran her fingers over the scratches on her face, checking their depth.
"Hardly helpful, Mistress Danifae," Pharaun said. "And how convenient for us that her will caused it to occur just after we arrived here."
"Tread carefully, mage," Quenthel warned.
"Indeed," Danifae said, eyeing him.
Pharaun was tempted to ask then and there why the chwidencha had answered neither Quenthel's nor Danifae's commands, but one look at Quenthel's whip made him think better of it.
Instead, he said, "I think it ill-advised to travel overland while this continues. Chwidencha may prove the least of our concerns. It appears the Spider Queen has decided to make the Teeming part of her test."
The priestesses said nothing but looked out through the curtain of green fire, their expressions distant and unreadable. Perhaps they too were wondering why the chwidencha had not responded to their power.
Finally, Danifae said, "We should take shelter for a time, let the Teeming run its course. Then we can travel overland again."
Jeggred eyed the chwidencha with hungry eyes. "The wizard said the wall of fire will last only a quarter hour. What shelter will we find in so short a time?"
"The caves," Pharaun said.
All of them lookedfirst to Pharaun, then at the ground, to the holes that surrounded them.
"Why not atop one of the tors?" Danifae asked, pointing at one of the innumerable spires of black stone that dotted the plane. "Few spiders seem able or willing to scale their heights."
"Look to the sky, Mistress Danifae," Pharaun answered. Already the sun was invisible behind a wall of black storm clouds. "I think it would be safer and more comfortable, underground."
Besides, Pharaun had already encountered one horror atop a spire. He had no desire to encounter another.
"The caves," Quenthel said, nodding.
"Yes, Mistress," hissed one of the female heads of her whip. "The caves will be safer."
"Silence, Zinda," Quenthel gently admonished her whip.
"Safer?" Jeggred said and sneered. "Safety is the concern of cowards, timid priestesses, and weak mages." He eyed Quenthel and Pharaun meaningfully in turn.
Pharaun smiled at the draegloth, turned his gaze to Quenthel, and said, "I would remind your nephew that it was Mistress Danifae who suggested that we seek shelter to avoid the danger of the Teeming. Does that mean you think her timid, Jeggred?"
Pharaun took a moment to enjoy the look of consternation on Jeggred's face before he said, "Perhaps not, then. But in any event, it appears you would prefer to linger on the surface until we return. I think it an excellent idea. Thank you, Jeggr ed. Your bravery will be remembered in song."
He offered the draegloth an insincere bow, and Jeggred snarled and bared his fangs.
Pharaun ignored the oafshowing a dolt to be a dolt brought him only small satisfactionand eyed the open mouth of the chwidenchas' hole.
To Quenthel, he said, "I can seal the cave opening behind us with a spell, and we can wait for as long as need be. When the storm passes and the violence ends, I can get us back through, and we can travel then."
Quenthel nodded, and said, "An excellent idea, Master Mizzrym."
Jeggred snorted with contempt, and Quenthel fixed him with a stare that could have frozen a fire elemental. The serpent heads of her whip rose up and offered the draegloth a stare of their own. "Nephew?" she said and made the word sound like an insult. "You wish to say something more, perhaps?"
Jeggred opened his mouth, but Danifae's hand on his arm stopped him from saying whatever words he had thought to offer.
Instead, Danifae smiled her disarming smile and looked to Pharaun.
"Master Mizzrym has offered sage counsel," she said, as though to Jeggred but really to Quenthel. "And Mistress Quenthel is wise to heed it." She let that sit a moment before she cocked her pretty head and