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T W E L V E
When Quenthel had decided she must don armor； she had performed the task as methodically as she did everything else。 She'd put on a cunningly crafted adamantine gorget； a Baenre heirloom； beneath her chain mail and piwafwi； and it was likely that protective collar that saved her life。
Still； the unexpected impact on the nape of her neck knocked her fornotward and down onto one knee； and the edge of her enchanted buckler clanked against the floor。
For a moment； she was dazed。 The whip vipers hissed and clamored to rouse her； their outburst clashing with the jumbled howling of the adnotvancing chaos demon。
She felt something hanging down her back and bade the serpents pull it off。 Hsiv reared over her shoulder； tugged the article out of the mail links and cloth with his jaws； and displayed it for her inspection。 She recognized it from the armory。 It was an enchanted quarrel sized for a two…hand arnotbalest； and if it； or one like it； so much as pricked a dark elf's skin； it would almost certainly kill。
Quenthel thought her assailant had had just about enough time to reload。 If so； the Baenre obviously couldn't trust her cloak and mail to pronottect her…the first bolt had pierced them easily enough。
Though it meant turning her back on the demon； she wrenched herself around； remaining on one knee to make a smaller target； and did her best to cover herself with her tiny shield。
Just in time。 A second quarrel cracked against the armor。 A shadowy but recognizably female figure ducked back into an arched doorway； no doubt to ready her weapon again。
Trapped between two foes； Quenthel thought that if she didn't eliminate one of them quickly； they were almost certainly going to kill her。 Judging her sister dark elf the easier mark； she leveled a long； thin rod at her。
A glob of seething green vitriol materialized in the air before her； then shot toward her enemy。 Quenthel could just see the edge of her opponent's body in the recessed space； and that was what she aimed for。 Even if she missed； the magic ought to slow the assassin down。
The green mass clipped her foe's shoulder。 It exploded； and the dark figure jumped。 The stonework around her was covered in a sticky mass of something like glue。 Quenthel smiled； but her foe； apparently unhindered by the entrapping magic； returned to the task of cocking the crossbow。 Something； her innate drow resistance to hostile magic； perhaps； had shielded her from harm。
Quenthel glanced over her shoulder as she slipped the rod back into her belt。 Though moving at a leisurely pace； the chaos demon had already tranotversed more than half of the lengthy gallery； and of course its speed could increase at any moment； just as every other aspect of its being altered un…predictably from one second to the next。
But if the Spider Queen favored Quenthel and the entity didn't accelernotate； she might have time for another strike at her foe of flesh and blood。 Silently directing the vipers to keep an eye on the demon； she turned back； and read from a precious scroll。
When Quenthel pronounced the last syllable； the scroll disappeared in a puff of dust and a brilliant light filled the chamber。 The dark elf in the doorway reeled and clutched blindly at the door frame。 She touched the slowly…dripping mass of glue and snatched her fingers away； leaving skin behind。
Quenthel started to read another scroll as the air around her stirred； blowing one direction then another。 Hot one second and cold the next； the gusts wafted countless smells； pleasant and foul alike。 She took it for a sign that the demon had drawn very close； and the vipe