She blinked in surprise。 Like true arachnids； driders were scutding about the walls and rooflines。 Many such debased creatures retained their spellcasting abilities； and one of them must have conjured the fire。
Quenthel had no idea how the thralls and outcasts could have conspired together； nor did she have time to stop and ponder the question。 She had to stop the driders before they destroyed her pany from above。 She levitated upward through the smoky air； meanwhile looking about for the mage who'd created the flame。
Barbed arrows and bolts of light streaked at her from all directions。 She shielded her face with a fold of her piwafwi； and the missiles rebounded or dissolved when they encountered her layers of enchanted protection。 The impacts stung but did no serious damage。
When she'd ascended to their level； she recognized certain snarling faces even with the fangs； driders whom she herself had helped to make。 Perhaps it explained why they'd throw magic at her despite the inevitable damage to the mob of ores。
She quickly unrolled another scroll and read the trigger phrase therein。 Blades appeared； floating among the driders in front of her； then began to revolve around a central point。 The razor…sharp slivers of metal sped along so fast they were invisible； and their orbits curved through the bodies of their foes。 The blades sliced and pierced the half…spiders without even slowing down； reducing the brutes to scraps of meat and splashes of blood。
Quenthel laughed and started to twist around to face the driders atop the stalagmite buildings on the opposite side of the street。 A length of something sticky lashed her and looped tightly about her torso； binding her free hand to her chest。
It was webbing。 She knew that some driders could spin the stuff。 As they sought to reel her in； she levitated once more； resisting the pull like a fish on a line。 Meanwhile； she struggled to reach another scroll despite the constriction of her arm。 The vipers bit and chewed at the cable。
Pharaun levitated into view； and sizzling white lightning leaped from his fingertips。 It stabbed one drider； then leaped to the next； then another； until the twisting； dazzling power linked all the half…spiders like beads on a chain。 They danced spasmodically until the magic ended； then instantly collapsed。 Stinking smoke rose from the remains。
Pharaun smiled at Quenthel and said； 〃I've often wondered why the goddess doesn't transform our misfits into something harmless；〃 he said。 〃I suppose driders are another tool for culling the weak。〃
Ignoring his blather； Quenthel peered down to see what was transpiring on the battlefield。
Malaggar's contingent had arrived and was tearing into the enemy's flank。 At virtually the same instant； the Auvryndar threw open their gates； and； mounted on their lizards； charged forth in a sortie。
Teeth gritted； Quenthel pulled the gummy web off her person and floated down to rejoin her troops on the ground。 Contemptuous of the ennotemies' arrows； Pharaun continued to hang above the warriors' heads from which point it was no doubt easier to aim his magic。
The scholars only had to fight for a few more minutes then； hammered on three sides； the mass of goblins collapsed in on itself； the implosion laying a carpet of corpses in its wake。
Quenthel allowed her troops only a few minutes to collect themselves； then she formed them up and marched them on toward the next of the goddess only knew how many battles。
〃Out！〃 Greyanna shouted。 〃Now？
The canoe maker gawked at her and sputtered； 〃Wh…what about my stock？〃
The items in question sat about the floor of the workroom or hung cradled in straps hooked to the ceiling。
〃The goblins will destroy them；〃 the scar…faced princess said。 〃Like this。〃 She smashed a half…finished kayak； a fragile…looking construction of curved bone ribs and hide； with a sweep of her mace。 〃Afterward； you'll make more； but only if you live。 Now get moving； or I'll kill you myself。〃
The craftsman scrambled off his stool； and she chivvied him out the door。 Up and down the street； her half dozen minions were rousting out the occupants of other manufactories and shops。
A mob of hairy hobgoblins； all well…armed and many a head taller than the average dark elf； slouched around a corner onto the thoroughfare。 They spotted the drow； bellowed their uncouth battle cries； and charged。
After the disastrous encounter with Ryld Argith； one of the twins was dead。 The other； and Relonor； lay grievously wounded； as they still did in House Mizzrym。 There they would live or die without recourse to furnotther doses of healing magic； since Miz'ri declined to squand