。
Metaphorically speaking； the wards were not unlike a castle。 There was the motte； the steep slopes of which would slow an enemy's approach while the defenders rained missiles down on him。 Atop that loomed the thick； high walls； virtually unbreachable and un climbable。 Amid those was the renotcessed gate； defensible by spears and arrows loosed from three directions。 Within the passage itself； murder holes gaped in the ceiling to rain burnnoting oil on the invaders' heads； while beyond it rose a gatehouse with batnottlements at the top； another barrier to enclose the first section of the courtyard and turn it into a killing pit。
Gromph's first counter magic； the one that had admitted the late and unlamented Beradax to the temple； had stormed the fortress like a ramnotpaging army equipped with catapults； rams； and siege towers。 The arch…mage's second effort resembled a mine sappers had excavated to pass unobtrusively beneath the walls。 Except that this hole ran though extra dimensional space。
As the netherspirit understood it； this method of egress was arranged by the Baenre elder male so that the occupants of Arach…Tinilith would expenotrience another kind of terror。 They had already discovered the dread of a screaming alarm； and they would learn the fear that came when death slipped into their midst without any warning at all。
Pulling in the longer tendrils of its ectoplasmic substance； the entity… it and its kind had no names； an advantage in that most wizards therefore lacked the ability to summon them…poured its formless form into the tunnel； albeit not without a measure of trepidation。 If Gromph's magic was unable to neutralize the conjurations of his minions； this was where the spirit would discover it in some unpleasant way。
As it crept down the mine； it sensed the wards poised above and around it； enchantments like hanging axes； precariously balanced and eager to fall； or taut tripwires attached to crossbows； or caltrops strewn lavishly undernotfoot。 The constructs of mystical force fairly quivered like living things with their pulsion to slay； but none of them detected the intruder。
The other end of the tunnel； which would not exist for mortal eyes unless they were magically augmented； opened on a corridor。 The nether…spirit climbed out and took its bearings。 It was inside one of the spider leg annexes of Arach…Tinilith； some distance from Quenthel's suite； but that was all right。 It was confident that nothing could bar its path to its target。
The intruder hunched and drifted around a corner and saw a novice standing watch。 Happily； the dark elf female didn't notice it； though that was scarcely a surprise。 For some reason it didn't fully understand； Gromph had given it the guise of a demon of darkness； and it was all but indistinguishable from the ordinary； empty gloom behind it。 The netherspirit yearned to kill the mortal； but Gromph had forbidden it to do harm to anyone but Quenthel unless she was fool enough to stand between it and its appointed prey。 With a pang of regret； it slipped past the sentry and on down the corridor。 Soon it came upon a row of cells。 Within the square little rooms； students recited their devotions。
So eager for bloodshed was the entity that the hall seemed to last fornotever。 Soon enough； though； the spirit reached the spider's cephalothoraxes。 This was the round； firelit heart of the temple； home to the grandest chapels； the holiest of altars； and the quarters of the temple's senior priestnotesses。
The intruder flowed into a spacious and largely empty octagonal chamnotber； where the air was perceptibly cooler than in the surrounding rooms and hallways。 Statues of Lolth stood between the eight open rectangular doorways； and inlaid lines and curves of gold defined a plex magical sigil on the floor； a pentacle seemingly focused on a nexus of power at the exact center of the room。 The same figure adorned the lofty ceiling； renotinforcing the enchantment。
The netherspirit had no particular desire to discover what that ennotchantment was。 It crawled along the walls； making sure not to touch the edge of the design。
Waves of power beat from the middle of the figure as something woke or became more real in the center of the chamber。 A sharpness tore into the top of the spirit's vapor like body； stunning it for an instant with a burst of unexpected pain。
Something jerked the living darkness toward the middle of the chamnotber。 It realized that despite its lack of solidity； something had caught it with the equivalent of a hook and line。 It also understood that simply avoiding the pentacle hadn't been good enough。 Apparently when one ennottered the room； one was supposed to say a password or something。
The pulling ended abruptly； and the pain diminished。 Shaking off its shock and disorientation； the darkness cast about and discerned the being crouching over it。 The attacker was nearly as amorphous as itself； but the essence of it was fixed； hard； a mass of knobs and angles。
The attacker extruded additional lengths of itself to transfix the darknotness。 The piercing burned； made the spirit shake uncontrollably； and seemed to be leeching out its strength。
This； Gromph's agent realized with a kind of wonder； was the cold that could extinguish a mortal life in a heartbeat。 The intruder had never felt the sensation before…not in a painful way…and shouldn't have been feelnoting it at all； but the prisoner of the pentacle wasn't just cold。 It was the essence of cold； the pure idea of cold given life； just as the netherspirit to some degree embodied the concept of darkness。
Bits of the assassin began to clot； to gum； and to harden to a britt