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Startled； she nonetheless reflexively reached for another scroll。 The demon spread out into a low； squirming red and yellow mass。 A hole dinotlated in the midst of it； and it spat the sword out。 The weapon retained its shape but rippled with shifting colors just as the intruder did； and Quennotthel still couldn't feel it with her mind。
She backed away； the blade followed； and； rattling and growling； the demon brought up the rear。 The sword swept back and forth； up and down； while she ducked and dodged。 So far； she was evading it； but it hampered and hurt her simply by being near。 Her mail turned to moss and
crumbled away。 Her flesh throbbed with sudden pains as the demon's power sought to transform it。 One leg turned numb and immobile for a second； and she nearly fell。 Itchy scales grew on her skin then faded away。 Her eyes ached； the world blurred to black； white； and gray； and the colors exploded back into view。 Her identity itself was in flux。 For one instant； she thought the thoughts and felt the soft； alien emotions of an arthritic human seamstress dwelling somewhere in the World Above。
Somehow； despite all such disconcerting phenomena； she managed to read the spell on the scroll and avoid the radiant blade at the same time。
She wasn't sure how this particular parchment had found its way to Arach…Tinilith。 She questioned that a dark elf had scribed it； for it connottained a spell that few drow ever cast。 Indeed； some priestesses would disdain to cast it； because it invoked a force regarded as anathema to their faith。 But Quenthel knew the goddess would want her to use any weapon necessary to vanquish her foe； and it was remotely possible that this magic would prevail where even the supposedly invincible black blade had failed。
Bright； intricate harmonies sang from the empty air。 A field of bluish phosphorescence sprang up around her。 Within it； she could make out innottangible geometric forms revolving around one another in plex symnotmetrical patterns。
The cool radiance expressed the power of order； of law； the antithesis of chaos。 The sword that had bee an extension of the demon's will froze inside it like an insect in amber…and the demon was equally still。 For a moment； at least。 The creature began hitching ever so slightly forward； working itself loose of the restricting magic。
The Mistress of Arach…Tinilith was essentially a creature of chaos as well； but mortal and native to the material plane； and thus the spell had no power over her。 She wheeled and dashed to the body lying in the doorway。 Only the spider part of it was moving； chewing and slurping on the rest。
The dead girl turned out to be Halavin Symrywin； who'd had the surnotprisingly good sense to remove all that gaudy； clinking jewelry before atnottempting to attack by surprise。 The novice had managed the arbalest rather deftly； considering her sore； mutilated hands。
Quenthel stooped to pick up the weapon and the quiver containing the rest of the enchanted quarrels。 She moved warily； but the feasting arachnid paid her no mind。
She turned； laid a dart in the channel； and shot。 When the sh