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〃But at such times as I do not require you；〃 the matron continued； 〃you may use the spy as you see fit。 If she tells you anything of interest； pass it along； but the point of your efforts is chastisement； not interrogation。 I doubt she has anything all that important to confide。 We already know who our enemies are。〃
〃Yes； Mother。〃 The halfdemon crouched； leered into Faeryl's face； and said； 〃I can make the fun last。 You'll see。〃
He stuck out his long； pointed tongue and licked blood from her face。 The member was as rough as a beast's。
The figure in the chapel doorway had a bulbous head with huge； protruding eyes； dry； wrinkled hide； and four wriggling tentacles surrounding and obscuring the mouth。 It had gnarled threefingered hands； a body with contours and proportions different than those of a drow； and an assortment of talismans and amulets burning with strange enchantments。 Syrzan； Pharaun had no doubt； was a member of the psionically gifted species called illithids。 Specifically； it was one of the few such creatures to follow the path of wizardry and ultimately transform itself into an undead entity known as an alhoon。 The thing was surely prodigiously powerful； immune to the ravages of time； and still entirely capable of reading the masters' minds and discerning the treachery therein。
Like Pharaun； Ryld had sprung up from his bench。 The hulking warrior flung himself at Houndaer； no doubt in an attempt to get his weapons back。 Pharaun； who thought he needed his spell ponents just as badly； scrambled after his friend。
The weapons master threw a punch； knocked Houndaer backward off his bench； and snatched up Splitter。 He whirled； looking for the next threat； and almost whacked his fellow teacher with the blade。
Pharaun reached for his cloak； then realized Houndaer's unassuming panion was singing a wordless arpeggio。
Had Pharaun already been wearing the piwafwi with all its protective enchantments； he might have resisted the song； but instead its power stabbed into his mind。 He laughed convulsively； uncontrollably； and staggered backward。 Finally； he fell to his knees； his stomach muscles clenching and aching。
He'd suspected the nondescript little male was more than he'd seemed； a formidable batant employing a bland appearance to throw his adversaries off guard； and he'd been right。 The 〃craftsman〃 was in reality a bard； a spellcaster who worked his wonders through the medium of music。
Teeth gritted； Pharaun shook off the pulsion to laugh。 Gasping； he lifted his head and looked around。 The bard was simultaneously drawing his enchanted dagger and starting another song； this time pitched falsetto。 Houndaer was on his feet battling Ryld； their swords ringing。 At the end of the room； Tsabrak； shifting his eight legs in agitation； aimed an arrow at Pharaun； while in the doorway the alhoon simply stood with only its mouth tentacles moving； seemingly content to let its patriots do the fighting。
Pharaun threw himself sideways。 The arrow missed him and clacked and skipped across the floor。 The mage slapped the stone； and a wall of sheltering darkness sprang up between him and the foe。 Moving with a practiced； silent grace； he scrambled on。
Something clamped down on Pharaun's mind； smothering his will and robbing him of the ability to move。 The undead mind flayer hadn't been idle after all。 Syrzan had simply utilized its psionic strength in preference to its wizardry and thus hadn't needed to whirl its threefingered hands in arcane passes。 The wall of shadow no impediment； the Prophet had reached out； found Pharaun's intellect； and struck a crippling blow。
The barricade of darkness disappeared。 Syrzan must have employed a bit of countermagic to dispel it and in so doing； afforded Pharaun a view of the space beyond。 Rather to his surprise； Houndaer was still alive； perhaps because Tsabrak had discarded his bow； drawn a broadsword； and e to fight alongside him。 The two conspirators were trying to catch Ryld between them； generally an effective tactic； but thus far the teacher's piwafwi； dwarven armor； and prowess had preserved him from harm。
The Tuin'Tarl made a halfhearted slash； and Ryld； recognizing the feint for what it was； didn't react。 The pale phosphorescence of the carvings gleaming on his naked limbs； Tsabrak spat venom onto his blade。 The bard brought his shrill singing to a crescendo； crossed his legs； and wrapped his arms tightly around his torso； all but tying himself in knots。
With the aid of his ring； Pharaun saw a glittering pulse of magic fly from the singer to Ryld。 He could even tell what it was intended to do。 His friend was supposed to contort his own body in helpless imitation of the bard's constrictive posture。 But； strong of spirit； Ryld resisted the pulsion without even realizing he was doing it。
The weapons master faked a cut at Houndaer's head； then whirled and dived。 He slid between Tsabrak's legs； breaking away from the drider and Houndaer； too； leaped up； and charged Syrzan。 He recognized the alhoon as the most dangerous of his foes； even though the illithilich hadn't attacked him yet。
Syrzan reached into a pocket and produced a small ceramic vial。 When it swung the bottle from right to left； a dozen orbs of bright flame materialized in its wake。 They shot at Ryld in one straight line and exploded one after the other； banging rapidly like some hellish drum roll。
The glare was dazzling。 For a moment； Pharaun couldn't see anything； and he made out Ryld through floating blobs of afterimage。 His friend appeared unscathed。 He was still charging and almost in sword's reach of the alhoon。
Syrzan used its mind flayer talents。 Even though the lich hadn't directed the attack at him； Pharaun felt the fringe of it。 It was like a sprinkle of hot ash burning his brain。 Ryld dropped。
Syrzan gazed down at the warrior for a moment； evidently making sure he was truly incapacitated； then walked over to Pharaun。 Despite the long skirt of its robe； there was something noticeably strange about its gait； as if its legs bent in too many places。 Up close； it exuded a faint stink not unlike rotten fish。 Its garments； once of princely quality； were frayed and stained。
It touched a finger to Pharaun's brow； and they were elsewhere。
C h a p t e r
N I N E T E E N
The Underdark was boundless； its mysteries infinite； and despite centuries of following wherever his curiosity led； Pharaun had never seen an illithid city。 Save for a dearth of inhabitants； he thought he'd just stepped into one。
Artisans had carved the walls and columns of the vault into spongiform masses like brain tissue； then covered the convolutions with lines of graven runes。 Pools of warm fluid dotted the floor。 Redolent of salt； the ponds crawled and throbbed with a mental force that even a nonpsionic intelligence dimly sensed as a whisper of alien； inprehensible thought at the back of the mind。
Pharaun recognized that the cavern was in some sense an illusion； but that didn't make it any less interesting。 He would have liked nothing better than to explore every nook and cranny。 It was an inclination rooted in a profound sense of wellbeing； a blithe unconcern no more genuine than the landscape； but seductive all the same。 He would have to