Quenthel seethes with anger. Her vision is fringed with red and she has to bite her cheek to keep from screaming in frustrated rage. She's out of options; inflict wounds on the man holding her, and the woman will use the gems. Summon a demon on the woman, and the man will slit her throat. A thought pops into her head; a gigantic swarm of spiders could attack them both if she called one. But she needs information, needs to know about this world and what's happening. With utmost disgust, Quenthel begrudgingly calms her vipers and lowers her whip, absolutely hissing, "Very well." She memorizes their faces. Revenge is an offering unto the Mother of Lusts.