Quenthel caught the blow on her buckler。 To her surprise； she didn't feel the slightest shock； but the shield turned blue； changed from round to recnottangular； and became many times heavier than it had been before。
The unexpected weight dragged her down to the floor again。 Resemnotbling a cresting wave； the intruder flowed toward her。 She yanked； but her shield arm was caught somehow and wouldn't pull free of the straps。
Rippling from magenta to brown stippled with scarlet； the demon adnotvanced to within inches of her foot。 Quenthel's boot evaporated into wisps of vapor； and pain stabbed through the extremity。
Finally her hand jerked out of its restraints； and she flung herself backnotward； rolling； her mail whispering against the floor。
When she'd put sufficient distance between herself and her foe； she rose； then faltered。 For an instant； she couldn't locate the fiend； and her mind struggled to make sense of the scene before her。 Green and blue； shaped like an hourglass； the demon was gliding along the ceiling； not the floor。 It was still pursuing her。 The cursed thing was random in every respect save its doggedly murderous intent。
The entity's howl ceased for a moment； then resumed with a peal of childish laughter。 Quenthel snatched and unrolled a scroll； which abruptly turned into a rothe's jawbone。 The air took on a sooty tinge； and her next breath seared her lungs。
Choking； she stumbled back out of the cloud。 She could breathe； though the stinging heat in her throat and chest persisted。 She suspected that； had she inhaled any more of it； the taint might well have killed her。 As it was； it had incapacitated and possibly slain the vipers； who hung inert from the butt of the whip。
She tossed away the jawbone； grabbed another scroll； and started readnoting the powerful spell contained therein。 Shaped like some hybrid of dragon and wolf； the demon； back on the floor again； advanced without moving its legs。 Though colored the blue and gold of flame； it threw off a bitter chill that threatened to freeze the skin on her face and spoil her recitation with a stammer。
Quenthel thanked the goddess that her own education in Arach…Tinilith had taught her to transcend disfort。 She forced out the words in the proper manner； and a black blade； like a greatsword without a guard； hilt； or tang； shimmered into existence in front of her。
She smiled。 The floating weapon was a devastating magic known only to the priestesses of Lolth。 Quenthel had never seen any creature resist it。 Though the stone floor was still chilly against the sole of her bare foot； the ghastly cold had passed； and she stood her ground； the blade interposed between her and her pursuer。
〃Do you know what this is？〃 she asked it。 〃It can kill you。 It can kill anything。〃
Certain the demon could hear her thoughts； she sent it the words； Surnotrender and tell me who sent you； or I'll slice you to pieces。
Emitting a sweet scent she'd never encountered before； looking like a giant frog crudely chiseled from mica with rows of wicked fangs in its sparkling jaws； the chaos demon waddled forward。
Fine； the Baenre thought； be stupid。
Controlling the black blade with her thoughts； she bade it attack。 It hacked a long gash in the top of the frog head and knocked the demon down on its belly。 The edges of the wound burned with scarlet fire。
The intruder turned inky black while flowing into a shape that renotsembled two dozen hands growing on long； leafy stalks。 The stems stretchnoting and twisting； the creature grabbed for the sword。
Quenthel let the hands seize hold of it； and as she'd expected； the magnotically keen double edge cut them to pieces； which dropped away onto the floor。 The demon gave a particularly loud cry； which sounded in part like the rhythmic clanging of a hammer beating metal in a forge。 Wincing at the noise； the priestess didn't know if the extreme volume equated to a scream of pain； but she hoped so。
The demon turned into a miniature green tower shaped according to the uncouth architectural notions of some inferior race。 A force surroundnoting it tugged at the sword as if the keep were a magnet and the conjured weapon； forged of steel。 Quenthel found it easy to pensate for the pull。 She slashed away chunks of masonry。
The tower opened lengthwise like a sarcophagus。 It lurched forward； swallowed the sword； and closed up again。
The entity had caught Quenthel by surprise； but she didn't see why it should matter。 It might even be more effective to cut and stab her foe from the inside。 She used the blade to thrust； felt the point bite； and her psionic link with the weapon snapped。
Startled； she