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〃We can hope that if Minolin gets everyone out； there won't be any more。 Besides； why in the name of the Demonweb did I create you？〃
Greenish candlelight rippling on black scales； Yngoth reared and twisted around to look Quenthel in the face。
〃Mistress；〃 the viper hissed； 〃we are rebuked。 We'll keep watch。 What will you do？〃
〃Wait； and prepare myself。〃
She found a classroom possessed of a reasonably fortable instrucnottor's chair； the high limestone back carved into the stylized shape of a stubby…legged spider。 She sat down； laid the whip at her feet； removed a thin shaft of polished white bone from her pouch； and set it in her lap； holding it at either end。
Closing her eyes； she menced a breathing exercise。 Within a heartnotbeat or two； she slipped into a meditative trance。 She thought she would need the utmost clarity to contend with the night's demon； because Jyslin had guessed wrong。 The intruder didn't encapsulate the art of the assassin； nor the spirit of the drow race； for that matter。 It embodied the concept of evil。
The traitor elves of the World Above professed to hate evil。 In reality； Quenthel thought； they feared what they didn't understand。 Thanks to the tutelage of Lolth； the drow did； and having understood it； they emnotbraced it。
For evil； like chaos； was one of the fundamental forces of Creation； manifest in both the macrocosm of the wide world and the microcosm of the individual soul。 As chaos gave rise to possibility and imagination； so evil engendered strength and will。 It made sentient beings aspire to wealth and power。 It enabled them to subjugate； kill； rob； and deceive。 It allowed them to do whatever was required to better themselves with never a cripnotpling flicker of remorse。
Thus； evil was responsible for the existence of civilization and for every great deed any hero had ever performed。 Without it； the peoples of the world would live like animals。 It was amazing that so many races； blinded by false religions and philosophies； had lost sight of this self…evident truth。 In contrast； the dark elves had based a society on it； and that was one of the points of superiority that served to exalt them above all other races。
Paradoxically； though； a touch of the pure black heart of this darkest of all powers could be deadly； just as the highest expression of forting warmth was the fire that consumed。 Even folk who spent their lives in the adoration of evil generally had no real prehension of the endless burnnoting sea of it raging below and beyond the material world； and that was just as well。 Even a fleeting glimpse could convey secrets too huge and fearnotsome for the average mind。 Its touch could annihilate sanity and even identity。 The threat was sufficiently grave that the majority of spellcasters hesitated to regard the force directly。 They preferred to treat with evil at one remove； by dealing with the devils and undead that embodied it。
But it appeared that Quenthel's unknown enemy was the exception。 He'd dipped right into the virulent fountainhead and drawn forth a power that dwelled therein。
That demon was presently intangibl