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To her surprise； Umrae denied her the chance to find out one way or the other。 It looked as if the traitor had so mitted to her attack that she would find it impossible to defend against a riposte。 Yet she interposed her withered arm to take the shock of the war hammer； then stooped to claw at Faeryl's unarmored knee。
The envoy avoided that potentially crippling attack with a fast retreat； meanwhile ripping the cloak away from her foulsmelling adversary。 The garment was starting to look more like a bunch of ribbons than one coherent piece of silk。 The duelists resumed circling； each looking for an opening。 Occasionally Faeryl let the tattered piwafwi slip or droop out of line； offering an invitation； but Umrae proved too canny to attack when and how her opponent wished her to。
Faeryl realized she was panting and did the best to control her breathing。 She wasn't afraid—she wasn't—but she was impressed with her servant's potioninduced prowess。 Formidable from the moment she imbibed it； Umrae was truly getting the hang of her borrowed capabilities as the battle progressed。
While still maneuvering and keeping an eye on Umrae； Faeryl nevertheless entered a light trance。 With a sense that was neither sight； hearing； nor any faculty prehensible to those who'd never pledged her service to a deity； she reached into that formless yet somehow jagged place where she had once been accustomed to touch the shadow of the goddess。
The presence of Lolth had absented itself from the meeting ground； leaving a vacancy that somehow throbbed like a diseased tooth。 Still； it seemed an appropriate domain in which to pray。
Dread Queen of Spiders； Faeryl silently began； I beg you； reveal yourself to me。 Restore my powers； even if only for a moment。 Has Menzoberranzan offended you？ So be it； but I'm not one of her daughters。 I'm from Ched Nasad。 Make me as I was； and I'll give you many lives—a slave every day for a year。
Nothing happened。
Umrae sprang in； clawing。 Faeryl jerked the part of her spirit that had groped in the void back into her body。 Retreating； she blocked the undead creature's claws with her cloak and struck a couple blows with the war hammer。 She didn't withdraw quickly enough to take herself pletely out of harm's way； nor did she settle into a strong stance and swing as hard as she could have。 She wanted the ghoul to feel on the brink of overwhelming her opponent and keep ing。 If Umrae grew too eager； she might open herself up for an effective counterattack。
Umrae's talons whizzed through the air； tearing scraps from the sheltering cloak until it was the size of a ragged hand towel。 Unexpectedly； the spy beat her riddled wings； hopped in close； and struck at Faeryl's face。 The noble recoiled； but even so the claws streaked past a fraction of an inch before her eyes； so close she could feel the malignancy inside them as a pulse of headache。
Still； it was all right； because she thought Umrae was finally open。 She sidestepped and swung her stoneheaded hammer at the ghoul's rib cage—
—to no avail； even though Faeryl had been correct； Umrae couldn't swing her hands around in time to block the blow。 Instead； she took another stride； slapped the ambassador with a flick of her wing； and sent her reeling。
Faeryl's head rang； and the world blurred。 As she struggled to throw off the stunning effects of the blow； she thought fleetingly how unfair it was that Umrae； who had long ago forsaken bat training as a humiliating exercise in futility； was demolishing a female who still doggedly reported to her captainoftheguard for practice once a tenday。
After what seemed a long time； her head cleared。 She whirled； certain that Umrae was about to attack her from behind。 She wasn't。 In fact； the animate corpse was nowhere to be seen。
Plainly； Umrae had taken to the air。 Had she finally done the sensible thing and fled？ Faeryl couldn't believe it。 Umrae hated her。 The envoy didn't know why； but she'd seen it in the traitor's eyes。 Such being the case； Umrae wouldn't break off when she had every reason to believe she was winning and close to making the kill。 No drow would； which meant she was still hovering somewhere overhead； poised to swoop down and； she undoubtedly hoped； catch her mistress by surprise and smash her to the ground。
Her heart pounding； Faeryl peered upward and saw nothing。 She listened for the beat of the creature's wings but heard only the eternal muffled whisper of the city as a whole。 She wasn't entirely surprised。 The undead were famously stealthy when stalking their prey。
A black sliver momentarily cut the line of violet luminescence adorning a spire of the castle of House Vandree。 The obstruction had surely been the tip of one of Umrae's wings。
Faeryl stared for another moment； then jumped when she finally spotted Umrae。 Her tattered cloak flapping between her wings； the transformed secretary was already hurtling down like a raptor from the World Above diving to plunge its talons into a rodent。
Hoping Umrae hadn't seen her react to the sight of her； Faeryl kept turning and peering。 When she felt the disturbance in the air； or perhaps simply the urgent prompting of her instincts； she jumped aside； pivoted； and swung the war hammer in an overhand blow。
Under those circumstances； she had little chance of smashing the thing's heart； but she'd seen that Umrae could suffer pain。 Perhaps the initial blow would freeze the undead thing in place for an instant； affording Faeryl the opportunity for what she prayed would be the finishing stroke。
The ambassador had timed the move properly； and the weapon's basalt head smashed into Umrae's flank。 Deprived of her victim； unexpectedly battered； the ghoul slammed into the smooth stone surface of the street with a satisfying crash。 Scraps of flesh broke away from her raddled body； releasing a fresh puff of stench。
Faeryl marked her target； the place on Umrae's chest beneath which her heart ought to lie； and swung Mother's Kiss back for the followup attack。 The traitor rolled and scrambled to her knees。 Faeryl struck； and Umrae lashed out with a taloned hand。 The ghoul caught the war hammer in midflight； tore it out of the ambassador's grip； and sent it spinning to clack down on the ground ten feet away。
Faeryl felt a crazy impulse to turn and go after the thing； but she knew Umrae would rip her apart if she tried。 She back stepped instead。 The inhumanly gaunt spy leaped to her feet—she looked like a pile of sticks spontaneously assembling themselves into a crude facsimile of a person— and pursued。
While retreating； Faeryl started edging around in a looping course that might ultimately bring her to the spot where the hammer lay。 Leering； Umrae moved sideways right along with her in a way that demonstrated she knew exactly what her mistress had in mind and would never permit it。
Well； the aristocrat still had one weapon—pitifully inadequate to the situation though it was—a knife hidden in the belt that gathered her light； supple coat of mail at the waist。 The gold buckle was the hilt； and when she pulled on it； the stubby adamantine blade would slide free。 She started to reach for it； then hesitated。
Against Umrae's talons； long reach； and resistance to harm； the dagger really would be useless 。 。 。 unless Faeryl could get in close enough to use it； and unless she attacked by surprise。
But how in the name of the Demonweb was she to acplish that？ Umrae was rapidly closing the distance； snapping her wings every few steps to lengthen a stride； and for three unnerving backward paces； Faeryl's mind was blank。
Then she remembered the cloak； or rather； the remnants of it； still clutched in her offhand。 Perhaps she could employ it to conceal her drawing of the knife。 The piwafwi was just a sad little mass of tatters； and she was no juggler adept at sleightofhand； but curse it； if clumsy Umrae had palmed a potion vial without her mistress noticing until it was too late； surely the mistress could do as well。
Faeryl had been reflexively moving the cloak around the whole time； so it shouldn't look suspicious for her to cover her waist with it。 At the same time； she hooked the fingers of her weapon hand in the oval hollow at the center of the buckle and pulled。 She had never before had occas