Book 5 of the War of the Spider Queen series
A Forgotten Realms novel
By Philip Athans
For Deanne
Acknowledgements
The people who made this book and the others in this series possible are： Peter Archer； Mary Kirchoff； Matt Adelsperger； Liz Schuh； Mary…Elizabeth Allen； Rachel Kirkman； Angle Lokotz and her outstanding team； and the workflow masters Marty Durham and Josh Fischer。
Needless to say there would be no Book V without Books I； II； III； IV； and VI so I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the other Spider Queen authors： Richard Lee Byers； Thomas M。 Reid； Richard Baker； Lisa Smedman； and Paul S。 Kemp。 Thanks to Elaine Cunningham for helping us with a particular continuity problem and Ed Greenwood for Creating the World in the first place。 Brom； thank you for the cover paintings； masterpieces all。 Thanks also to game designers Eric L。 Boyd； Bruce R。。 Cordell； Gwendolyn EM。 Kestrel； and Jeff Quick for lots of fun new Underdark toys。
But most of all I have to thank R。A。 Salvatore； who gave so much more than just his name to this series。 He gave his limitless creativity； energy； and generosity of spirit in portions larger than any of us had a right to expect。 If any of these six books are good at all； it's because of him。
She was the strongest。 She had feasted on more than any still alive。 She had killed more than any still alive。 She had killed all those around her and hadn't even bothered to devour their carcasses before moving on to those outside the zone of the dead。
She was the strongest。 She knew she was the strongest as yet another fell before her snapping mandibles。 She was the one who would rise through the carnage and rule。
She was the strongest。
The others soon knew this as well。
So she was dead。
Within the chaos； there was intelligence and purpose。 Within the hunger and the slaughter； there was mon cause。 She was the strongest and would kill them all or rule them all； so they bonded together and tore her eight legs from her； devouring her fully before turning again upon each other。
Another rose to prominence through deed and fearsome assault。
That one； too； fell to the mon cause。
The mortal test continued。 The strongest died； but the smartest remained。 The manipulative remained…those who hid their strengths beyond what was necessary to kill the present opponent。
Those who stepped forward； who rose above the tumult； died。
Through all the millennia； she had recognized those who were stronger than she； and she had persuaded them to do her bidding or be killed。 Strength came not from the size of her muscles but from the power of her cunning。
In the frenzy of the birthing； in the contest of the slaughter； these traits paved the road to victory。
To find the moment when individual strength was beyond the collective power to defeat it。
To intrigue amidst battle to destroy any who were stronger。
And for some； to admit defeat before oblivion's descent； to escape and survive； new demons of chaos to run wild about the planes and in the end to serve the winner。
The numbers dwindled。 Those left grew in power and size。
Each waited and watched； deciding who must die before she could reign supreme； sorting through the tumult to facilitate that desired end。
Those driven by uncontrollable hunger were dead now。
Those driven by simple self…defense were dead now。
Those driven by foolish pride were dead now。
Those driven by instinctual survival were dead or were fleeing。
Those driven by cunning remained； knowing only one could emerge in the end。
For all the others； it would be servitude or oblivion。 There were no other choices。
As she had manipulated the mortals who served her and the mortals who feared her； as she had maneuvered even other gods through the centuries； so she controlled her offspring。 This was the test of her decree。
There were no other choices。
Chapter One
Gromph found himself growing accustomed to seeing the world through his familiar's eyes。 It was that feeling that prompted him to do something about it。 Gromph Baenre； brother of the Matron Mother of the First House of the City of Spiders； Archmage of Menzoberranzan； would not look through the eyes of a rat any longer than he had to。
Kyorli's head bobbed from side to side and up and down as she sniffed the air。 The rat was bound to look where Gromph willed her to； but she was easily distracted。 She didn't see as well in the dark； either； which in the Underdark meant she didn't ever see well； and there were no colors。 Gromph perceived the casting chamber； like the rest of the world； in dull hues of gray and black。
Gromph knew the chamber well enough； though； that he didn't need the rat's vision to reveal its limits。 The fuzzy blurs at the edge of Kyorli's vision were the great columns that rose to a series of flying buttresses； eighty feet into the gloom overhead。 The carvings on the columns were sparse； and what they lacked in beauty they made up for in magical utility。 The chamber； deep in the maze of Sorcere； was there for a purpose and not to impress。 Spells were cast there in the course of training the students； testing the masters； in researching new spells； straining the limits of their powers； and for the odd summoning or scrying。
Gromph stepped into the center of the room； and from the corner of Kyorli's eyes he saw the two drow waiting for him。 They bowed。 The rat was sniffing the air； her nose angled up in the direction of the circle of giant mushroom stems that had been secured to the floor in the center of the cavernous chamber。 There were ten of them； and to each was bound a single drow male。
〃Archmage；〃 one of the two wizards in attendance whispered reverently； his voice hissing off the distant walls in a thousand echoes that Gromph doubted he would have heard if he still had his eyesight。
The archmage willed Kyorli to turn her head to face the wizards； and he was satisfied to see that they were dressed and equipped as he had manded。
During his time away from Menzoberranzan； thanks to the traitorous lichdrow Dyrr； certain elements within the Academy had revealed themselves。 It had taken Gromph less time that he feared but more time than he'd wished to reassert himself at Sorcere。 Triel had； to Gromph's surprise； actually done well in maintaining the House's hold over the school of wizards； but still there were traitors to kill and conspirators to bring back into the fold。 All that had delayed his efforts to regain his eyesight。 No more。
〃All is prepared；〃 the whispering mage…his own distant nephew； Prath Baenre…said。
Prath was young； still barely an apprentice； and though Gromph couldn't see the two dark elves' faces since Kyorli insisted on occasionally scratching her own hindquarters with her sharp front teeth； he was sure that the other…a Master of Sorcere named Jaemas Xorlarrin…was looking at the younger drow with impatience。 Baenre or no； Sorcere had its hierarchies。
〃Master Xorlarrin；〃 Gromph said； making his own feelings on the necessity of that hierarchy clear； 〃as is obvious； I have some trouble seeing。 I will require simple answers to some simple questions。 You will stand at my left。 The boy will step aside until called。〃
〃As you wish；〃 the Xorlarrin mage replied。
The rat left off her scratching when Gromph snapped his fingers。 He watched through the rat's eyes as Kyorli scampered up his leg； to his hand； up his arm； and sat； twitching and sniffing； on the archmage's shoulder。 Seeing himself through the rat's eyes unsettled Gromph； and feeling the rat's feet on him…both senses detached from each other…was something the archmage was determined not to experience again。
Gromph stepped toward the bound dark elves； sharply aware of the Xorlarrin mage following close behind him。 As they came closer； a shadowy form revealed itself…another drow standing inside the circle of captives。 It was Zillak； one of the archmage's most trusted assassins。
〃Is the boy prepared with the sigils？〃 Gromph asked。
He was answered by a faint clang of metal and the sound of scurrying steps that finally slid to a halt。
〃Yes； Archmage；〃 Jaemas Xorlarrin replied。
Gromph stepped close to one of the bound dark elves。 All ten of them were cousins…the wicked sons of House Agrach Dyrr and traitors to Menzoberranzan every last one。 Gromph had asked for the youngest； the strongest； the ablest of them to be spared。
〃Dyrr；〃 the archmage said； doing his best to fix his sightless eyes on the captive's face。
The prisoner squirmed a little at the sound of his family's name。 Gromph wondered if the boy felt the shame his traitorous House had inflicted on every last one of his kin。
〃I 。 。 。〃 the prisoner muttered。 〃I know why I'm here； Baenre。 You can do your worst to me； and I will not betray my House。〃
Gromph laughed。 It felt good。 He hadn't had a good laugh in a long time； and with the siege of Menzoberranzan only digging in； with no word of Lolth or break in her Silence； he didn't think he'd be laughing much in the days； t