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hadowy highnotest reaches of the chamber as well。 The ceiling was an octagonal web a crawl with painted spiders； providing splendid camouflage for the creanotture。 If it was in fact crouching in their midst； she couldn't see it。
Still scanning the ceiling； the whip vipers keeping watch as well； she backed to one of the wall sconces and read the trigger phrase from another scroll； whereupon the candle flame leaped up and turned a roiling black。 She put her arm into the dark fire； and her flowing gossamer sleeve caught instantly。
Though they were at the end of what was； thus far； the non…burning arm； the serpents hissed and coiled in alarm。 Quenthel brought them to heel with a brutal thrust of her will。 Feeling naught but a pleasant warmth； she silently manded the dark fire。 A portion of the magical stuff flowed down her arm and congealed into a soft； semisolid ball in her palm。 She threw it； and her magic shot it up like a sling bullet to strike the ceiling fresco where it splashed into a great gout of murky flame。
Quenthel followed that first missile with a steady barrage。 Where the dark fire had kissed it； the fresco began to burn with ordinary yellow flame； suffusing the air with eye…stinging smoke and a vile stink that was also a sickening； throat…clenching taste at the back of her mouth。
She was throwing blindly； but with the blaze above spreading； it shouldn't matter。 Surely the spider wouldn't simply sit still and allow itself to burn。 The fire ought to spur it into motion and thus into visibility。
Unless； of course； the spider wasn't really on the ceiling； which was a real possibility。 Maybe it was actually hiding elsewhere。 It might even be creepnoting up on her while she stared at the burning painting and the nervous vipers worried more about their proximity to a dark fire than about keepnoting watch。
No； her intuition had pointed her in the right direction。 She spotted the spider as it gathered itself to spring down at her； and having flushed it out； she need only survive its renewed attack。
She dived from beneath its plummeting form and rolled； leaving a trail of black； burning scraps of cloth behind on the floor。 The creature with its tattered； oozing eyes landed with a thump； its eight legs flexing to absorb the impact。
Quenthel scrambled up and backed away from it。 Her whole gown was aflame； nearly her entire body shrouded in dark fire。 She threw another ball of the stuff； which spattered on the demon's back and streamed down its flanks。 To her delight； her magic affected it again。 The spider too wore a mantle of shadowy flame； the heat rippling the air above it。
That meant it ought to drop； didn't it； or at least flounder about in helpnotless agony？ The fire was surely damaging it； for Quenthel could smell its flesh charring even through the omnipresent reek of burning paint； but the demon turned and scuttled after her。
She aimed the next burning missile at the cluster of eyes that seemed in some indefinable way to constitute the very core of the thing。 The spider did lurch and falter when the burning darkness splashed over the orbs； but on