ishing in the pockets of his cloak for a small flask of duergar brandy。 Normally he wouldn't risk diluting his senses with alcohol； but hours of marching in cold rain had soaked his clothing and left him chilled to the bone。 The liquor brought a hot glow to the middle of his body with one good mouthful。
〃Is this your stream？〃 he asked Pharaun。
〃Yes；〃 the wizard said without hesitation。 〃Here； we cross and turn to the south； following the river upstream。 House Jaelre is not more than a couple of miles away。〃
He pointed at Ryld with one finger and muttered a magical syllable。 The flask rose up from the weapons master's hand and bobbed through the air to the wizard； who promptly helped himself to a healthy swallow。
〃My thanks；〃 said Pharaun。 〃The gray dwarves may be odious churls； but they distill a good brandy。〃
〃Don't drink too much；〃 Quenthel said。 〃The Jaelre are as likely to shoot us as look at us。 I need you alert and sharp…witted； wizard。 Master Argith； keep up close with the rest of us from this point on。 I'm more worried about what lies before us now than behind。〃
〃As you wish； Mistress；〃 Ryld said。
He held out his hand to Pharaun； who took one more small swallow and tossed the flask back to Ryld。 The weapons master stood； shouldered his pack； and led the way across the bridge。 The surface of the log was slick and uneven； and doubtless would have been trouble for a clumsy dwarf or awkward human； but the dark elves negotiated the crossing with ease。
On the other side； they found the overgrown remnants of an old stone road； cracked and broken by the twisting roots of countless trees and hundreds of years of frosts and thaws。 Smooth white stone； expertly joined； marked it as the work of the ancient surface elves who once inhabited the forest。 Ryld was not so poorly educated that he had not heard of Cormanthor； the great forest empire of the surface elves； or the fallen glory of its legendary capital city of Myth Drannor。 Other than the names； though； he knew very little of who the builders of the forest empire had been and what had befallen them。
Moving slowly and carefully； the pany advanced in an open skirmish line； prepared to defend themselves against any attack。 They followed the old road for more than a mile； just as Pharaun had said they would； and they came upon the wreckage of old walls and battlements ringing some ancient stronghold。 Green vines wreathed the walls； thriving despite the winter season； but the wall was cracked and holed in a dozen places。 A rusted iron gate lay across the road where it pierced the walls； a barrier that had long since fallen into uselessness。 Beyond the walls； a small stony tor rose from the forest floor； crowned by a large pentagonal keep of white stone。 At first Ryld thought the place was whole and intact； but as he studied it； he realized that the tower…tops were holed and that more than one of the flying buttresses linking the outlying towers to the main body of the keep had collapsed with the years。 Green vines knotted their roots in the riven stone； covering the ruins in a living blanket。
〃Ruins；〃 Jeggred growled in disgust。 〃Your insipid spells have failed you； wizard…or you have deliberately led us astray。 Are you in league with our treacherous scout； perhaps？〃
〃My spells do not fail；〃 Pharaun replied。 〃This is the place。 The Jaelre are here。〃
〃Then where are they？〃 the draegloth snarled。 〃If you…〃
〃Silence； both of you！〃 Valas snapped。 He moved a few steps away from the gate； his footfalls as soft as those of a stalking leopard； an arrow lying across his bow。 〃This place is not as abandoned as it looks。〃
Ryld moved over to take shelter by a tottering old column of masonry； setting one hand on Splitter's hilt。 Danifae and Pharaun did the same on the other side of the road； staring hard at the ruined keep。 Quenthel； however； chose not to move at all。
Instead she stood confidently in the center of the path and called out； 〃You of House Jaelre！ We wish to speak with your leaders at once！〃
From a dozen places of concealment； stealthy shapes in dark cloaks that deceived the eye by mimicking the wearer's surroundings slowly stood； bows and wands pointed at the Menzoberranyr。 One of the figures； a female carrying a double…ended sword； pushed back her hood and eyed the pany with cold contempt。
〃You are miserable spider…kissers；〃 she hissed。 〃What do you have that the lords of House Jaelre could possibly want； other than your corpses feathered with our arrows？〃
Quenthel bridled and allowed one hand to fall to her whip。 The weapon writhed slowly； the serpent heads snapping their fangs in agitation。
〃I am Quenthel Baenre； Mistress of Arach…Tinilith； and I do not bicker on doorsteps with mon gate guards。 Announce our arrival to your masters； so that we can get in out of this damnable rain。〃
The Jaelre captain narrowed her eyes and motioned to her soldiers； who shifted position and made ready to fire。 Valas shook his head and lowered his bow； stepping forward quickly with one hand in the air。
〃Wait；〃 he said。 〃If Tzirik the priest is still among you； tell him that Valas Hune is here。 We have a proposition for him。〃
〃I doubt our high priest will have much use for any proposal of yours；〃 the guard captain said。
〃If nothing else； he'll find out why we came a thousand miles from Menzoberranzan to speak to him；〃 Valas replied。
The captain glared at Quenthel； then said； 〃Lower your weapons and wait there。 Do not move； or my soldiers will fire； and there are more of us than you think。〃
Valas nodded once； and set his bow down on the ground。 He glanced at the others； and took a seat on the edge of a crumbling old fountain。 The rest followed suit； though Quenthel didn't demean herself by taking a seat。 Instead she folded her arms and waited with imperious displeasure。 Ryld glanced around the courtyard full of hostile warriors； and rubbed his head with a sigh。
Quenthel knows how to make an impression； eh？ Pharaun gestured discretely。
Females； Ryld replied； just as discretely。
He carefully reached into his cloak and withdrew the brandy flask again。
The most doleful torment of incarceration； reflected Halisstra； was boredom； pure and simple。 Like most of her extraordinarily long…lived kind； the priestess hardly noticed the passing of hours； days； even tendays when her mind was engaged。 Yet； despite the wisdom and patience of her more than two hundred years； a few hours' confinement in a featureless stone cell seemed more onerous than months of the harsh discipline she endured in her youth。
The endless hours of the day crept by； a day in which her body longed to rest despite the painful glare of sunlight streaming in through that one cursed window。 Meanwhile her thoughts veered wildly from praying for her rades to return and rescue her to fomenting the most hideous and agonizing tortures she could imagine for each one for abandoning her to capture。
Eventually； she fell into Reverie； her mind empty of new schemes or old memories； and her awareness so dim and distant that she might have been sleeping in truth。 Exhaustion had finally caught up with her； not just the sheer physical exhaustion of the long tendays of travel and peril through desert； shadow； Underdark； and forest； but a kind of mental fatigue rooted deeply in the grief she still carried for the loss of the House she was to one day rule。 Halisstra might not have permitted herself to shed a tear for Ched Nasad； but the malignant truth of her plight had an odd way of surfacing in her thoughts； poisoning them with a cold； hopeless disbelief that was difficult to set aside。 Long hours of imprisonment offered her the opportunity to exhume the hateful situation in its entirety and contemplate her loss of station； wealth； and security until her horrible fascination was in some way sated。
At dusk the guards brought her fresh food； a bowl of some bland but nourishing stew and another half loaf of bread。 Halisstra found herself ravenously hungry； and she devoured the meal with little thought to the possibility of poison or drugs。 Soo