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m from； magic。 〃It's priestesses attacking us。 Killing them would call attention to us； make the Council even more eager to put a stop to our inquiry。 It might even make them want to kill us irrespective of how our mission turns out or of what Gromph decides。〃
Pharaun grinned and added； 〃I know I promised you glorious mayhem； but that will have to wait。〃
Ryld replied； 〃It's a difficult thing to sneak away from foes who hold the high ground。〃
〃I'm an inexhaustible font of tricks； haven't you noticed？〃 Pharaun beamed at the assembled paupers and said； 〃How would you all like to assist two masters of the Academy engaged in a mission of vital importance？ I assure you； Archmage Baenre himself will wax giddy with gratitude when I inform him of your aid。〃
His audience stared back at him； fear in their eyes。 One of the female moners produced a bonehandled； graniteheaded mallet and threw it。 Ryld caught it and hurled it back。 The makeshift weapon thudded into the center of the laborer's forehead； and she collapsed。
〃Would anyone else care to express a reservation of any sort？〃 Pharaun asked。 He waited a beat。 〃Splendid； then just stand still。 I assure you； this won't hurt。〃
The Master of Sorcere pulled a wisp of fleece from a pocket and recited an incantation。 With a soft hissing； a wave of magical force shimmered through the room。 When it touched the paupers； they changed； each into a facsimile of Ryld or Pharaun himself。 Only a single child remained unaffected。
〃Excellent；〃 said Pharaun。 〃Now all you have to do is go outside； at which point； I remend you scatter。 With luck； many； if not all of you； will survive。〃
〃No〃 cried one of Ryld's doubles in a high； agitated voice。 〃You can't make us—〃
〃But we can；〃 said Pharaun。 〃I can fill the house with a poisonous vapor； my friend can start chopping you to pieces。 。。。 So please； be sensible； go now。 If the enemy breaks in here； your chances will be significantly worse。〃
They looked sullenly back at him。 He smiled and shrugged； and Ryld hefted Splitter。 The moners began to scurry toward the door。
The two masters fell in at the back of the crowd； prepared to chivvy folk along as necessary。
〃Shadows of the Pit；〃 murmured Pharaun； 〃I wasn't at all sure they would actually do it。 I am a persuasive devil； aren't I？ It must be my honest face。〃
〃Decoys aren't a bad idea；〃 said Ryld； 〃but now that I think of it； why not just turn us invisible？〃
Pharaun snorted。 〃Do I tell you which end of the sword to grip？ Invisibility's too mon a trick。 I'm sure our foes are prepared to counter it。 Whereas the illusion may work。 It's one of my personal； private spells； and we Mizzrym are famously deft with phantasm。 Now； when we get outside； don't lose track of me。 You don't want to go skipping off with the wrong Pharaun。〃
Most of the moners had vacated the house。 Pharaun drew a deep breath； steadying himself； and he and Ryld plunged out into the open。
The moners were scattering as directed。 As far as Pharaun could tell； no one had attacked any of them。 Perhaps； as he'd hoped； the enemy was entirely flummoxed。
The masters； fleeing like the rest； turned one corner and another。 Pharaun was beginning to feel the smugness that es from outwitting an adversary when something rattled and rustled above his head。 He looked up in time for it to slam him in the face and knock him down。 Dropped from a fair height； the thick； coarse strands of rope prising the net struck with the force of a club。
Also trapped； Ryld cursed； the language vulgar enough to make the Braeryn proud。
Pharaun needed a second to shake off the shock of the impact； and he realized his current situation was even more unfortunate than he'd initially thought。 The net； woven in a spider web pattern； was animate。 Scraping his skin； striving to render him pletely immobile； the heavy mesh shifted and tightened around him。
A foulwing landed on the street。 In the saddle sat an otherwise handsome priestess with a scarred face—a Mizzrym face； lean； intelligent； and sardonic。 Strangely； she wore a domino mask； and Pharaun suspected he knew why。
Grinning； the female said； 〃I knew you'd try to trick me with illusions； Pharaun。 That's why I brought a talisman of true seeing。〃
Though he wasn't sure she could see it from outside the net； Pharaun made it a point to smile back when he said； 〃And you were correct。 Hello； Greyanna。〃
Quenthel was immune to fear。 She did not； could not； panic。 Or so she had always believed； and in fact； she wasn't panicking； but she was as desperate and bewildered as any illwisher could desire。
She wasn't certain； but she believed the vipers' hissing and a bump and clatter had roused her from her trancelike state of repose。 She'd opened her eyes and seen nothing。 Evidently someone had conjured a patch of darkness around her； or worse； cursed her with a blindness spell。 She opened her mouth to speak to the whip snakes； and something cold and thick jammed itself inside。
Her throat clogged； she was suffocating。 Meanwhile； something else； something that felt like the cool； dexterous tip of a demon's tentacle； slid around her wrist。
She yanked her hand away just before the unseen member could lock around it and thrashed to keep her limbs free of the other tendrils that began to grope after them。 None of it helped her breathe。
She battered furiously at the space around her。 Logic told her that her attacker had to be there； but her fists merely swept through empty space。 Her chest ached with the need for air； and she felt unconsciousness nibbling at her mind。
She did the only thing left。 She bit down。
At first； she couldn't penetrate the mass； but she strained； snarled in her throat with effort； and her teeth sank into something leathery and oily。
In an instant； it vanished。 It didn't yank itself free； it just melted away。
Quenthel's teeth snapped together with a clack。
Scrambling to her knees； she sucked in a couple deep breaths； then called； 〃Whip〃
〃Here〃
〃I understand。〃
At least she wasn't blind。 She'd heard of demons made of darkness itself； though she had never had occasion to summon one。 They were said to be hard to catch and even harder to bind。
〃Guard〃 she called。
This time she didn't hear an answer and wasn't surprised。 The invader's presence suggested the sentry was either a traitor or dead。
Quenthel sensed something rushing at her。 She flung herself sideways； and something crashed against the patch of wall immediately behind the space she'd just vacated。 The stone floor chilled her through her gauzy wisp of a chemise。
As planned； she fetched up against the stand where she kept certain small pieces of her regalia。 She leaped up and groped about the rectangular stone tabletop。 To her disgust； a couple items rattled to the floor； but then her fingers closed on a medallion of beautifully cut glass。
Squinting； she invoked the trinket's power。 A dazzling glare blazed through the room。 Quenthel had to shield her own eyes； hoping the terrible light would destroy a living darkness altogether。
The magic light and the equally supernatural darkness made for a split second when the lighting in the room was as it was before the creature had entered。 At least Quenthel could open her eyes。
Her assailant； seemingly unaffected by the light； was a ragged central blot with long； tattered arms snaking throughout the room； ubiquitous as smoke。 Drinking in all the glow； reflecting none； it was dead black and deceptively flatlooking。 It thrust a long； thin probe at the medallion and Quenthel jerked the token aside。 The shaft of blackness veered； pensating； and struck the medallion hard enough to knock it out of her hand。 The light died instantly when the glass medallion shattered on the floor。
Fortunately； the illumination had lasted long enough for her to note the locations of several other objects on the stand。 She instinctively ducked； the tentacle swept over her head and tousled her hair； and she grabbed a scroll。 As before； she would regret expending any of the spells contained therein； but she'd regret dying even more。
Conversant with the contents of the parchment； she didn't need to see the trigger phrase to 〃read〃 it。 She recited the words； and a shaft of yellow flame roared down from the ceiling through the spot where the core of the demon had been floating。 The firelight showed that it was still there。 The blaze passed right through it； and all its arms and streamers of murk convulsed。
The column of flame vanished after a moment； leaving； despite the care the drow had taken to shield her eyes； a haze of afterimage bisecting her vision。 It took her a second to realize that dull； wavering stripe was the only thing she could see。 The darkness had survived。 It had clotted its essence around her to seal her eyes once more。
You're a tough one； she thought； sending the unspoken words to the mind of the demon as she； a divine emissary of Lolth； was trained to do。
There was no response； and Quenthel felt no connection made between her mind and the consciousness of the demon。 This was no servant of Lolth's。
Alive and impossible to mand； it would surely grab or strike at her； and this time intuition was failing her。 She had no idea from where the attack would e； so she didn't know which way to dodge to evade it。 She simply had