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Pharaun decided he wouldn't allow that。 He levitated above his rades； thus obtaining a clear shot at the dais。
He felt a twinge in the center of his forehead； but only for a second。 As he'd expected； Syrzan had attacked first with a psionic thrust； not realizing its foe had warded himself against such effects with apposite talismans and spells。
This time； the Mizzrym thought； you'll have to fight me charm to charm and spell to spell。
To his surprise； he received an answer； a telepathic voice grating and buzzing inside his mind。
So be it； mammal； the alhoon said。 Either way； I'll have revenge on the wretch who condemned me to exile yet again。
Even as he attended to Syrzan's threat； Pharaun was murmuring an incantation and manipulating a little steel tube。 A bright pellet of flame hurtled from the open end； expanding into a skullsized orb as it flew。 It smashed into one of the renegades on the dais； rebounded； and struck another。 It bounced and slashed back and forth across the platform； sowing a zigzag trail of sparks and afterimage in its wake； striking everyone。 Before it winked out of existence； it killed a good many of the rogues or turned them into reeling； flailing living torches； whom their own allies had to slay lest they ignite them as well。 Syrzan； however； was unaffected。
Below his feet； Pharaun glimpsed the clash of stabbing； cutting blades and spinning chains。 As they flailed at their adversaries； the kytons； who resembled oozing； festering corpses within their coiled armor of chains； altered their features。 The devils had the capacity to take on the appearance of a deceased intimate from an enemy's past。 Supposedly svirfneblin and their ilk found this deeply distressing； but it was only slightly disfiting to representatives of a race that did not love。
Ryld was at the forefront of the fighting； sweeping Splitter about with all his accustomed strength and skill。 Pharaun was glad to see that his friend was only striking at the demons。
Mouth tentacles writhing； bulbous eyes glaring； Syrzan lifted its threefingered hands to conjure。 Around it； many of the rogues who still survived jumped off the dais。 Evidently they'd rather fight the Freth warriors on the floor than stand near the alhoon while Pharaun threw spells at it。
The Master of Sorcere was surprised that so few of the traitors simply tried to run away。 Certainly loyalty—that alien conceit—didn't hold them there。 They must have known that with their schemes thwarted； their conspiracy revealed； they were outlaws； outcast from all they coveted and cherished。 Perhaps their plight filled them with such rage that they prized vengeance above survival。
As Syrzan wove magic； its dark elf counterpart was hastily doing the same。 The lich finished first。 A blaze of lightning； kin to those still twisting and forking through the open air outside； leaped from its parched； scaling hand； crackled entirely through Pharaun's torso； and burned a black spot on the ceiling。
Pharaun's muscles clenched； and his hair lifted away from his head； but his protections averted any real harm。 Indeed； the attack didn't even disrupt his own conjuring。 On the final word； he thrust out his hand； releasing a wave of cold； fluttering shadows like ghostly bats。
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Screeching and chattering； the phantoms swooped and whirled about the alhoon； slashing at it with their claws。 The mind flayer growled a word in some infernal tongue； and a jagged crack snaked up one of the walls。 Pharaun's illusory minions vanished。
The Mizzrym extracted five glass marbles from one of his pockets； rolled them dexterously in his palm； and rattled off a brief tercet。 A quintet of luminous spheres appeared in the air and shot toward Syrzan； attacking it with fire； sound； cold； acid； and lightning simultaneously。 Surely at least one of those forces would pierce its defenses。
Syrzan gave a rasping； clacking shriek and swept its hand through the air。 In an instant； the orbs reversed their courses； streaking back at their source as fast as they'd sped away。
Caught by surprise； Pharaun nonetheless attempted to dodge in the only manner possible。 He restored his weight and dropped toward the floor like a stone。 Two of the radiant projectiles streaked past him to explode against the ceiling。 Two more simply vanished when they came into contact with his piwafwi。 The fifth ghosted into his chest。
The loudest scream he'd ever heard shook his bones； jabbed agony through his ears； and smashed his thoughts to pieces。 Stunned； he kept plummeting until he smashed down in the midst of the melee。
For a moment he simply lay amidst scores of shifting； stamping feet； then his mind focused； and he realized he needed to get off the floor before somebody trampled him。 He started to scramble up； and a swinging length of chain struck him on the temple。
It was just a glancing blow； but it knocked him back down。 A kyton loomed over him； whirling its flexible weapons around for another attack。 The spirit had Sabal's face。
Pharaun pointed his finger and rattled off a spell； realizing partway through that he couldn't hear himself—or anything else。 Seconds before； the battle had been a hammering cacophony； but it had fallen silent。
Luckily he didn't need to hear his voice to recite a spell。 Power blazed from his fingertip into the devil's body。 In a heartbeat； the kyton's flesh shriveled within its wrapping of chain。 The links sliding and flopping around it； the fiend collapsed。
A hand gripped Pharaun's shoulder and hauled him up。 He turned and saw Welverin。 The officer's mouth moved； but the wizard had no idea what he was saying。 He shook his head and pointed to his ears； which； though useless； were far from numb。 They throbbed and bled。 His insides hurt as well； and the pain made him want to destroy Syrzan all the more。
Pharaun levitated； only to find himself mere feet from something the illithilich must have conjured while its fellow age was floundering about below。 It was a huge； phosphorescent； disembodied illithid head； with mouth tentacles longer than the drow was tall。 The members writhing； the squidlike construct flew forward。 Up close； it smelled fishy。
Pharaun snatched a white leather glove and a chip of clear crystal from his cloak and menced a spell。 A tapered tentacle tip whipped around his forearm； tugged； and nearly spoiled the final manipulation； but he pulled free and pleted the pass successfully。
An immense hand made of ice appeared beside the mind flayer's head。 It wrapped its fingers around it； dug its talons in； and held the thing immobile。
The only problem was that the phantom illithid head was still blocking Pharaun's view。 He simultaneously wove a spell and bobbed lower until he saw Syrzan。
On the final word of the incantation； white fire erupted from the alhoon's desiccated flesh 。 。 。 fire that died a second later。 The magic should have transformed the undead wizard into an inanimate corpse； but the only effect had been to singe its shabby robe a little。 Pharaun reflected that despite several attempts； he had yet to injure or even jostle his adversary。 If the dark elf hadn't known better； he might have wondered if Syrzan was not in fact the better arcanist。
Much as the Mizzrym disliked handtohand bat； perhaps a change of tactics was in order。 He snatched a delicate little bone； dissected from a petty demon he'd killed in a classroom demonstration； and started to conjure。
Syrzan swung its arm and hurled a dozen flaming arrows。 They missed； bumped off course by their target's protective enchantments。 Pharaun pleted his incantation and so inflicted a hundred stabbing pains upon himself。
His body grew as large as an ogre's； and his hide thickened into scaly armor。 His teeth lengthened into tusks； and his nails into talons； while long； curved horns erupted from his brow。 A hairless tail sprouted from the base of his spine； and a whip appeared in his hand。
The transformation only took a moment； and the disfort was gone。 With a beat of his leathery new wings； Pharaun hurled himself at his foe。
The wizard raised his monstrous arms high and bellowed an incantation。 Pharaun felt a surge of churning vertigo。 The scene before him seemed to spin and twist； and despite himself； he veered off course。 He smashed down on the dais； and time skipped。 When he came to his senses； he'd reverted to his natural form and felt as weak and sick as Smylla Nathos。
The lich was staring down at him。
〃What an idiot you were to return；〃 Syrzan said。 〃You knew you were no match for me。〃
Pharaun realized he could hear again； albeit through a jangling in his ears。 He wouldn't die deaf； for whatever that was worth。
〃Stop preening；〃 said the Master of Sorcere。 〃You look ridiculous。 This isn't your pathetic dream world。 This is reality； where I'm a prince of a great city and you're just a sort of mollusk； and a dead； putrid one at that。〃
As he taunted the creature； he groped for the strength to cast a final spell。 No doubt the attack would fail like all the others。
So why； he thought； bother to attack？ Try something else instead。 Shaking with effort； he cast a spell off the side of the platform。 Blue scintilla of power glittered briefly in the air。
〃You call me pathetic？〃 Syrzan sneered。 〃What was that supposed to be？〃
If you were wear