and chambers, until they reached the vaulted scrying chamber and its stone basin. The two homely male wizards, both in dark piwafwis, awaited them there. One of themthe one Yasraena previously had choked for smilinggreeted them with a bowed head and lowered eyes. He did not smile, instead eyeing Yasraena's tentacle rod with dread. The other male stood over the scrying basin, his furrowed brow covered in sweat, his hands held over the still water, palms downward.
Without acknowledging the male, Yasraena pushed past her daughter and hurried to the edge of the waist-high basin. Esvena followed in her wake.
A wavering image showed itself in the waters. Gromph Baenre sat at a huge desk of bone, his gaze fixed intently on an unusual crystal set before him. Yasraena took the crystal to be a scrying device, though it showed only a gray mist at the moment.
Across from the archmage sat another wizard, a fat Master of Sorcere whose name Yasraena did not know. From time to time, they exchanged words. They appeared frustrated and tired.
"This is very good," Yasraena said to the room. "Very good, indeed."
She knew that she still had time to locate the lichdrow's phylactery. The archmage remained at Sorcere. Perhaps his spell duel with the lichdrow had drained him so much that he would not make an attempt on the House at all.
"The work was long, Matron Mother," said the male she had choked. "The archmage's wards were powerful. But we persisted."
"You saved yourself a painful death," Yasraena said. After a pause, she added, "Well done."
The male almost smiled, but one look at Yasraena's tentacle rod kept the corners of his mouth from rising.
The wizard went on, "Notice the gray mist present in the archmage's scrying crystal, Matron Mother. If the archmage is attempting to scry House Agrach Dyrr through that crystal, as we suppose, the mistiness indicates that he has not yet breached our anti-scrying wards."
She nodded. The lichdrow had well warded the fortress, better, apparently, than the archmage had warded his own chambers.
Yasraena saw that the archmage and the Master of Sorcere were speaking intently. From their body language, Yasraena thought that Gromph too easily tolerated impudence in his inferiors.
"Why can we not hear what they are they saying?" she asked the room.
Silence answered her. She looked up, and Esvena barked, "Answer the Matron Mother!"
The male Yasraena had choked cleared his throat and said, "Matron Mother, the basin does not allow for the transmission of sounds. I humbly apologize."
Yasraena stared at the top of the male's head for a moment before turning back to the image. The vision wavered too much for lip readers to be of much use. She would have to rely on observation to keep her apprised of Gromph's plans.
She eyed the sweating male wizard who leaned over the basin, maintaining the image. He would not be able to hold the image for much longer. She looked to Esvena.
"Rotate our mages so that this image is constant. It is imperative that we know what Gromph Baenre is doing at all times."
Esvena nodded.
Yasraena was beginning to think that the temporary Xorlarrin withdrawal was part of some larger ploy by the archwizard. Perhaps he would time his own assault with that of the Xorlarrin, hoping to sneak in under cover of the battle.
We've got you, Baenre, she thought, eyeing Gromph through the basin. With the Dyrr wizards' scrying eye on him, the archmage would not be able to surprise them. If he came, they would be ready.
Yasraena took a deep, satisfied breath. She had asked the Spider Queen for an opportunity. She had been given more time, and that was opportunity enough.
Conscious of his companions' eyes upon him, Pharaun pulled a swatch of bat fur from his piwafwi, positioned his fingers in a circle, and spoke a couplet.
An incorporeal, silvery orb took shape before him. With an exercise of his will, he saw through the ball as though it were his own eyes. At his mental command, the ball sped back through the chwidencha tunnel, up the vertical shaft, and through the wall of stone that Pharaun had created to cap the tunnel.
Through the eye, Pharaun saw the surface.
It was night. And raining. Spider carcasses and limbs dotted the landscape. The chwidencha bodies they had left behind lay torn in pieces. Pharaun saw no movement, no spiders. He ceased concentration on the orb, leaving it where it was, and returned his vision to his own eyes.
Quenthel stood near him, waiting. Danifae stood a few steps