war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第113章

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il。
The　traitor　elves　of　the　World　Above　professed　to　hate　evil。　In　reality；　Quenthel　thought；　they　feared　what　they　didn't　understand。　Thanks　to　the　tutelage　of　Lolth；　the　drow　did；　and　having　understood　it；　they　emnotbraced　it。
For　evil；　like　chaos；　was　one　of　the　fundamental　forces　of　Creation；　manifest　in　both　the　macrocosm　of　the　wide　world　and　the　microcosm　of　the　individual　soul。　As　chaos　gave　rise　to　possibility　and　imagination；　so　evil　engendered　strength　and　will。　It　made　sentient　beings　aspire　to　wealth　and　power。　It　enabled　them　to　subjugate；　kill；　rob；　and　deceive。　It　allowed　them　to　do　whatever　was　required　to　better　themselves　with　never　a　cripnotpling　flicker　of　remorse。
Thus；　evil　was　responsible　for　the　existence　of　civilization　and　for　every　great　deed　any　hero　had　ever　performed。　Without　it；　the　peoples　of　the　world　would　live　like　animals。　It　was　amazing　that　so　many　races；　blinded　by　false　religions　and　philosophies；　had　lost　sight　of　this　self…evident　truth。　In　contrast；　the　dark　elves　had　based　a　society　on　it；　and　that　was　one　of　the　points　of　superiority　that　served　to　exalt　them　above　all　other　races。
Paradoxically；　though；　a　touch　of　the　pure　black　heart　of　this　darkest　of　all　powers　could　be　deadly；　just　as　the　highest　expression　of　forting　warmth　was　the　fire　that　consumed。　Even　folk　who　spent　their　lives　in　the　adoration　of　evil　generally　had　no　real　prehension　of　the　endless　burnnoting　sea　of　it　raging　below　and　beyond　the　material　world；　and　that　was　just　as　well。　Even　a　fleeting　glimpse　could　convey　secrets　too　huge　and　fearnotsome　for　the　average　mind。　Its　touch　could　annihilate　sanity　and　even　identity。　The　threat　was　sufficiently　grave　that　the　majority　of　spellcasters　hesitated　to　regard　the　force　directly。　They　preferred　to　treat　with　evil　at　one　remove；　by　dealing　with　the　devils　and　undead　that　embodied　it。
But　it　appeared　that　Quenthel's　unknown　enemy　was　the　exception。　He'd　dipped　right　into　the　virulent　fountainhead　and　drawn　forth　a　power　that　dwelled　therein。
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