"I do not know of any gate," he growled.
Behind Pharaun, one of the vipers in Quenthel's whip gave a soft hiss of frustration.
"But there is a way to reach the Abyss from this plane," the demon continued. "There is a demon ship that will carry you there. . if you can find it."
"A demon ship?" Quenthel echoed.
Belshazu glared at her.
"Have you heard of the Blood War?" Belshazu asked.
His voice was heavy with scorn, as if he expected the drow to be ignorant of the doings of his kind.
"Of course," Quenthel answered. "It is a contest between the Abyss and the Nine Hells?a glorious war that has raged for millennia."
"Glorious?" Pharaun scoffed. "More like loud, sloppy, and pointless. Neither side remembers what they're fighting about?let alone has the slightest hope of winning."
"The devils of the Nine Hells will be defeated!" Belshazu bellowed.
"In due time, I'm sure," Pharaun interjected dryly. "But for the moment, you were telling us about a ship?"
Still snarling, the demon wrenched his attention away from Pharaun and addressed himself to Quenthel.
"In ages past, my kind found a fresh way to launch our attacks against the Nine Hells. We built ships of bone bound with strands of spirit stripped from the manes who serve us, and hung with sails of flayed skin. These ships sail between the planes, blown by the winds of chaos.
"Centuries ago, one of these ships of chaos set out into the Plane of Shadow, seeking a new route to the Nine Hells. It sailed down the River of Shadows to a place where that river touches upon this plane, and there it was lost. Of its crew of thirteen, only one returned: a groveling mane. It babbled something about the uridezu who captained the ship being overcome and of a terrible storm. We subjected the mane to the fiery lash and the torments of boiling oil, but it was able to give us only one useful piece of information. Just before the ship was lost in the storm, it had visited a city of your world. The city's name meant nothing to us, but perhaps you will know it?Zanhoriloch."
Unlike Quenthel, who was listening avidly as the demon spoke, Valas seemed not to be listening; his attention was focused on cleaning the sticky black streaks of demon's blood from his dagger. Danifae stood behind them, an openly skeptical look upon her face, toying with a ring. Jeggred, bored, was licking the wound on his wrist.
"This information is useless," Quenthel said. "How are we to find this ship?assuming it exists? I've never heard of a city by that name."
"I have," Valas said. As the others turned to the mercenary, he gave a final polish to the kukri, then shoved it back into its sheath. "It's an aboleth city."
Pharaun rolled his eyes and said, "It just gets better and better, doesn't it? Those fish-folk are the last creatures I want to deal with."
Danifae suddenly stirred.
"Mistress," she said, "Pharaun's right. Shouldn't we be?"
"Silence," Quenthel spat. "I've noted your cowering?how you kept to the rear, like a whimpering male?and am tired of it. If I want your opinion, priestess, I'll ask for it.
Danifae did as she was told, pursing her lips shut in a tight, angry line.
"Zanhoriloch isn't far from here," Valas continued. "It's in Lake Thoroot."
"In Lake Thoroot?" Quenthel asked.
"Aboleths live underwater."
"How far?" the high priestess asked.
The scout frowned, thinking.
"If I can find the right tunnel," he said, "the journey would take no longer than it would for the heat to rise through Narbondel."
Quenthel considered that, then asked, "How big is this lake?"
"Enormous," Valas answered. "Big enough to cover a city, at any rate."
"Or a ship," Quenthel mused. "If the ship of chaos had just left Zanhoriloch when it ran into the storm, it may be at the bottom of the lake. If it is, the only ones who would know of its existence would be the aboleths." She glanced at Belshazu, and her expression hardened. "Assuming, that is, the ship is still intact. You said it was 'lost' in a storm, Belshazu? How badly damaged was it?"
Belshazu shrugged and said, "The mane said it was intact."
Quenthel's eyes narrowed.
"Then why didn't the demons try to recover it?" she asked.
Belshazu's eyes blazed.
"Weren't you listening, drow? I said it was lost?on this, the foulest of planes. How were we to find it?"
Pharaun, listening quietly, noticed that Danifae was staring at him. She'd shifted slightly, so that Quenthel was between her and the demon. When she had Pharaun's attention, she spoke to him in sign, behind Quenthel's back.
The demons know where the city is now. The minute you release this one?
Pharaun gave a quick flick of his fingers: Yes.
More than that, he did not offer. For all he knew, Belshazu could read the silent speech.
It was Valas, as usual, who asked the practical question, "Once we find the ship, and raise it from the lake, how do we sail it?"
Belshazu gave him a sly grin and replied, "The ship has a mouth. All you need do is feed it a soul."
Quenthel matched the demon's lascivious smile with one of her own. Seeing her glance in his direction, Pharaun had no doubt whatsoever about whom she'd most like to shove into the demon ship's gullet.
"And?" Valas asked, still focused on the practicalities. "Once the ship's been fed, what do we do next?"
"Sail it," Belshazu answered derisively. "It has sails, and lines, and a tiller. Catch the wind and go. Continue up the River of Shadows, and sail the breadth of the Shadow Deep. The river branches as it reaches the Abyss. Smaller streams empty into the pits that pock the Plain of Infinite Portals. One of those portals leads to the sixty-sixth layer. Follow the right branch, and the ship will carry you into the Demonweb Pits."
Pharaun said nothing. It all sounded highly doubtful to him. Quenthel, however, had a gleam in her eye. The serpents in her whip lashed in apparent eagerness for their mistress to begin the search for the ship of chaos?at once.
"Our thanks, Belshazu," she told the demon in a purring voice. "And my apologies for the indignities this mage has subjected you to." She stared coldly down at Pharaun, and gave a terse order: "Release him."
Behind her, Danifae gestured rapidly at Pharaun, No! The demon will only be waiting at the ship when we?
With the speed of one of her serpents, Quenthel turned and, in one smooth motion, pulled the whip from her belt. Hissing with glee, the vipers lashed out at Danifae.
"I ordered you not to speak!" Quenthel shrieked.
Caught by surprise, Danifae was slow to react. She reared back?but not before the longest of the serpents grazed her cheek with its teeth. Its work done, the viper curled back, eyeing the livid red lines it had drawn in the drow's soft flesh. As its venom flowed through Danifae's body, she sagged to her knees, already gasping for air.
Quenthel stood staring coldly down at Danifae, stroking the head of the viper that had inflicted the near-fatal kiss.
"Don't worry," she told Danifae. "Zinda may be the largest, but her poison is the least venomous. You'll live?if you're strong enough." Ignoring Danifae's choking sobs, she turned back to Pharaun and said, "Well?"
Once again, Pharaun bowed?a little deeper?and he addressed himself to the more pressing issue. Carefully.
"I can speak the word that will release Belshazu, but he won't be able to return to the Abyss until the ice melts," he told Quenthel.