war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第101节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


That　demon　was　presently　intangible；　a　creature　of　pure　mind。　That　was　why　it　seemed　to　move　and　act　so　erratically；　it　was　passing　not　through　physical　space；　a　medium　in　which　it　didn't　exist；　but　from　consciousness　to　consciousness；　head　to　head。　And　simply　through　that　intimate　contact　it　poisoned　its　hosts；　even　if　it　didn't　particularly　intend　to。　It　suffused　them　with　a　darkness　too　big　and　too　powerful　for　their　little　minds　to　sustain
It　was　searching　for　Quenthel　all　the　while；　to　show　her　the　most　pronotfound　malevolence　of　all。
She　prayed　she　could　endure　the　venom　for　just　a　second；　until　she　worked　the　Xorlarrin's　magic。　She'd　have　to。　Since　the　demon　was　invisible　and　insubstantial；　she　wouldn't　know　it　hadn't　e　close　enough　for　the　talisman　to　affect　until　she　felt　it　infesting　herself。
To　make　sure　she　would　indeed　detect　it；　she　sank　ever　deeper　into　her　trance。　She　became　acutely　conscious　of　the　rise　and　fall　of　her　chest　and　the　air　hissing　in　and　out　of　her　lungs。　The　steady　thud　of　her　heartbeat　and　the　surge　of　blood　through　her　arteries。　The　pressure　of　her　buttocks　and　spine　against　the　chair。　The　feeblest　of　drafts　caressing　and　cooling　her　left　profile。　The　vipers　shifting　restlessly；　brushing　her　feet　and　ankles；　the　touch　perceptible　even　through　her　boots。
Yet　none　of　the　sensations　was　of　any　particular　significance。　They　prenotsented　themselves　so　vividly　only　because　she'd　entered　a　state　of　utter　disnotpassionate　quietude；　and　thus　receptivity。　A　condition　in　which　she　would　be　equally　cognizant　of　events　within　her　mind　and　soul。
She　recalled　acquiring　this　capacity　when　she　herself　was　a　novice　in　Arach…Tinilith。　She'd　learned　every　divine　art　easily。　It　had　been　one　of　the　signs　that　Lolth　had　chosen　her　for　greatness。　But　relatively　speaking；　this　particular　mastery　had　e　harder　than　most。　According　to　Vlonnotdril；　unwrinkled　but　showing　signs　of　madness　even　then；　it　had　been　benotcause　Quenthel　was　of　too　dynamic　a　character。　She　had　no　instinct　for　passivity。
Abruptly　the　Baenre　realized　her　thoughts　were　nudging　her　out　of　the　desired　state。　Vlondril　had　also　said　that　was　always　the　way。　The　mind　didn't　like　to　hush。　It　wanted　to　babble。　Quenthel　took　another　deep；　slow　breath；　exhaled　it　through　her　mouth；　and　expelled　that　importunate　inner　voice　along　with　it。
Time　passed。　She　had　no　idea　how　much　time；　nor；　immersed　in　the　meditation；　did　she　care。　The　temple　was　utterly　silent；　which　surely　meant　that　most　everyone　had　exited；　or　perhaps；　in　one　or　two　instances；　perished。
Gradually　it　dawned　on　Quenthel　that　her　trance　wasn't　quite　perfect。　The　dead　quiet；　proof　that　all　instruction；　prayers；　and　rituals　had　ceased；　irked　her　just　a　little；　and　she　doubted　she　could　purge　that　final　hint　of　emotion。　She　cared　too　much　about　her　role　of　Mistress　of　Arach…Tinilith。　She'd　e　to　the　Academy　intent　on　making　it　grander　and　more　effective　than　ever　before。　Thus　would　she　honor　Lolth　and　demonstrate　her　fitness　to　one　day　rule　the　entire　city。　Instead；　she'd　presided　over　an　extended　disnotaster；　regular　functions　disrupted；　residents　battered　or　even　dead。
It　galled　her　to　think　how　many　of　her　sister　nobles　would　blame　her；　but　she　knew　it　wasn't　her　fault。　It　was　in　large　measure　the　fault　of　the　teachers　and　students　themselves。　Most　who　had　perished　earned　their　denotstruction　by　dint　of　their　idiotic　little　mutiny；　and　actually；　that　was　as　it　should　be。　The　traitors　had　violated　the　precepts　of　Lolth。
Indeed；　when　Quenthel　thought　about　it；　the　real　misfortune　might　be　that　weaklings　like　Jyslin　and　Minolin　were　still　alive。　They　were　cowards　and　whiners；　unfit；　but　they'd　survive　merely　because　the　manifestation　of　evil　hadn't　passed　their　way；　and　because　the　Baenre　herself　had　sent　them　to　safety。　Perhaps　that　had　been　a　mistake。
Quenthel　realized　she　was　ruminating　once　more。　With　an　effort　of　will　she　arrested　the　internal　monologue。　For　a　few　seconds。
But　as　Vlondril　had　taught　her；　it　was　devilishly　hard　to　attain　passivity　by　straining　for　it。　Besides；　Quenthel　was　pondering　important　matters；　new　insights　that　would　guide　her　steps　in　the　days　to　e。
If　preserving　even　the　most　worthless　specimens　of　her　flock　constituted　an　error；　at　least　it　was　one　she　could　rectify。　She'd　already　slaughtered　the　mutineers。　How　easy；　then；　it　would　be　to　butcher　those　who　lacked　even　the　spirit　to　rebel。　She　imagined　herself　stalking　among　her　underlings；　peering　into　their　eyes；　swinging　the　whip　whenever　she　discerned　inadenotquacy。　The　trance　state　facilitated　visualization；　and　the　fantasy　was　as　vivid　as　life。　S