Extinction (Forgotten Realms: R.A. Salvatore's War of the Spider, Book 4)
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The New York Times best-seller is now in paperback!
Now available in paperback, Extinction is the fourth title in the epic Forgotten Realms series about one of the most popular races in the setting. This title landed on the New York Times best-seller list for two straight weeks upon initial hardcover release. Best-selling author R.A. Salvatore wrote the prologue to Extinction and continues to consult on the series, lending his expertise as the author who brought drow society to the forefront of the Forgotten Realms setting.
AUTHOR BIO: Formerly a magazine editor, Lisa Smedman splits her week between working as a reporter/editor at a weekly newspaper and writing fiction. Her most recent credits include authoring Heirs of Prophecy and contributing a short story to the Halls of Stormweather.
white? Without landmarks to guide them, they were likely to wander in circles until the cold finally claimed them. Over and above that small problem, Ryld was already tiring. His House insignia allowed him to levitate, so that Halisstra could tow him through the air like a child’s floater, but the concentration required to sustain the brooch’s magic was wearying him. Allowing it to lapse, he sank gently to the ground and contemplated the snow falling into the tunnel. Halisstra shivered, making
forces of Menzoberranzan that could better be used to battle the duergar and tanarukks. Triel decided to bluff. “I knew your master was not an Agrach Dyrr,” she told the assassin. “I had never seen him before—and I know all of the senior officers of that House. Matron Mother Yasraena and I are … allies. As much as any two matron mothers can be.” “Yasraena Dyrr is of no consequence.” Triel stiffened and asked, “What do you mean?” “A male rules House Agrach Dyrr—the lichdrow. Vhaeraun has
underwater. The fingers, coated in a thin layer of slime, smudged the outer surface of the sphere, but through the streaks, Gromph could see a bulbous face with four writhing tentacles where a nose and mouth should be. The illithid’s eyes were white and devoid of pupils, but Gromph could sense that it was staring at him as it sculled gently with its free hand, maintaining a position just below the surface of the lake. Its voice forced itself into Gromph’s mind, probing like an infestation of
materialize behind her, then he sighed. “What about Jeggred?” “No!” Quenthel barked, the vipers in her whip lashing. “Jeggred stays with me.” Sensing her anger, Jeggred scrambled over to crouch at her side. “He can take Danifae,” Quenthel said. Before Valas could shake his head in protest, Pharaun butted in. “Danifae will only slow him down—and I don’t want to waste my time and talents preparing the same spells twice.” Valas glanced between Quenthel and Pharaun. Valas had to tread
back at Ryld, showing an amazing amount of mettle for a mere boy. “They were killed by your people.” Ryld considered that and said, “Is that how you learned to speak Drowic? Were you a slave?” “My grandfather was, but he fought back.” “The gray wolf?” Ryld guessed. “That’s your grandfather? Where is he?” “He’s not here,” the boy replied, glancing into the forest in the opposite direction of the little building, though too casually. The look told Ryld what he needed to know. The lie was as