war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第67章

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！


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　innothumanly　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。　Leernoting；　Umrae　moved　sideways　right　along　with　her　in　a　way　that　demonnotstrated　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　drawnoting　of　the　knife。　The　piwafwi　was　just　a　sad　little　mass　of　tatters；　and　she　was　no　juggler　adept　at　sleight…of…hand；　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　occasion　to　employ　this　last　desperate　means　of　defense；　but　in　the　sixteen　years　since　an　artisan　had　made　it　to　her　specifications；　she　had　always　kept　the　knife　and　scabbard　oiled；　and　the　blade　easily　slid　free。
She　studied　Umrae。　As　far　as　the　envoy　could　tell；　the　imitation　ghoul　hadn't　seen　her　bare　the　dagger；　but　she　doubted　she　could　keep　it　hidden　for　more　than　a　second　or　two。　She　had　to　manufacture　a　chance　for　hernotself　quickly　if　she　was　to　have　one　at　all。
She　pretended　to　stumble。　She　hoped　her　unsteadiness　looked　genuine。　Umrae　had　touched　her；　after　all；　so　it　might　seem　credible　that　her　strength　was　failing。
The　ghoul　took　the　bait。　She　leaped　forward　and　seized　Faeryl　by　the　forearms。　This　time；　her　claws　punched　through　the　envoy's　layer　of　mail　and　jabbed　their　tips　into　her　flesh。　At　once；　a　surge　of　nausea　wracked　Faeryl；　then　another。　Retching；　she　wasn't　sure　she　could　still　use　the　knife　in　any　sort　of　controlled　manner。　Perhaps　she'd　just　served　herself　up　to　her　foe　like　a　plate　of　mushrooms。
Umrae　grinned　at　Faeryl's　seeming…or　genuine…helplessness。　The　envoy　felt　the　clerk's　fingers　tense；　preparing　to　flense　the　meat　from　her　bones；　even　as　she　pulled　the　noble　closer　and　opened　her　jaws　to　bite　down　on　her　head。
Fighting　the　sickness　and　weakness；　Faeryl　tried　to　thrust　her　hand　fornotward。　The　effort　strained　her　flesh　against　the　ghoul's　talons；　tearing　her　wounds　larger　and　bringing　a　burst　of　pain…but　then　her　arm　jerked　free。　The　blade　rammed　into　Umrae's　withered　chest；　slipping　cleanly　between　two　ribs　and　plunging　in　all　the　way　up　to　Faeryl's　knuckles。
Umrae　convulsed　and　threw　back　her　head　for　a　silent　scream。　The　spasms　jerked　her　hands　and　threatened　to　rip　Faeryl　apart　even　without　the　traitor's　conscious　intent。　Umrae　froze；　and　toppled　backward；　carrynoting　her　assailant　with　her。
In　contradiction　of　every　tale　Faeryl　had　ever　heard；　the　shape　shifter　didn't　revert　to　her　original　form　when　true　death　claimed　her。　Still　horrinotbly　sick；　the　envoy　lay　for　some　time　in　the　ghoul's　fetid　embrace。　Eve