Quenthel Baenre, Halisstra Melarn, and Danifae Yauntyrr.

The pain subsided, though the image remained, burned into his brain with a divine brand.

Vhaeraun said, "Each of the three are trying to find their way to the city of the Spider whore.

My mother is calling them, you see, drawing them to her, testing them as they come. One will be

Chosen, one will be her-"

The wind howled anew, and another tremor shook the plane. The word Yor'thae sounded once more through the chamber.

"Yes," Vhaeraun said, and an irritated tic caused his eye to spasm. He focused on Inthracis and said, "What I require of you is that you kill all three of the candidates."

Once again, Vhaeraun was suddenly across the library, behind a large lectern.

Inthracis could do nothing else, so he nodded. Privately, he wondered why Vhaeraun could not kill the three drow mortals himself.

The answer occurred to Inthracis a moment after the question: since the so-called Time of Troubles, the Overgod had forbade the gods from directly affecting the existences of mortals. Thus, Vhaeraun needed an ally unbound by the Overgod's edict, a non-divine ally.

The mercenary in Inthracis started to overcome his fear. He saw opportunity and took it.

"And for me, Masked Lord?" he asked, with the proper amount of deference.

Vhaeraun vanished from behind the lectern to appear beside him. Inthracis looked straight ahead, not daring to face the god.

Whorls of shadows curled around them both, black snakes that slithered along Inthracis's leathery skin. Vhaeraun held his unwounded hand before Inthracis's face, and Inthracis saw that the arm was as incorporeal as a shadow up to the elbow. With a smile, Vhaeraun reached into

Inthracis's body and clutched one of his three hearts. It stopped cold.