war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第63部分

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Very　well；　Gromph　thought；　have　it　your　way。
He　thrust　the　curved　blade　of　his　ritual　dagger　into　his　belly。
As　he'd　expected；　the　creature　floundered　in　agony；　but　only　for　an　innotstant。　Anguish　erupted　in　the　Archmage's　own　stomach。　He　yanked　the　athame　out　of　his　flesh　an　instant　before　it　would　have　dealt　him　an　actual　wound。
K'rarza'q　lunged。　Ignoring　the　residual　pain　in　his　gut；　Gromph　recited　a　brief　incantation　and　thrust　out　his　arm。　The　air　rang　like　a　bell；　and　a　little　red　ball　of　fire　shot　from　his　hand。　It　struck　the　creature　and　。　。　。　nothnoting。　The　missile　winked　out　of　existence。
The　entity　reached　the　edge　of　the　pentacle。　A　barrier　of　azure　light　sprang　up　and　vanished　with　a　tortured　whine　as　the　spirit　drove　though。　The　creature　dipped　its　head　and　jerked　it　upward；　ramming　the　tip　of　one　of　its　horns　into　Gromph's　chest。
The　spirit　was　entirely　solid。　If　not　for　the　Robes　of　the　Archmage　and　his　other　protections；　the　long　blade　of　shadow　stuff　would　surely　have　imnotpaled　Gromph。　As　it　was；　it　picked　him　up　and　tossed　him　across　the　room。　In　midair；　he　strained　to　throw　off　the　numbing　shock　and　activate　the　powers　of　levitation　in　his　House　insignia。
The　power　woke　with　a　sort　of　sickening　pang；　but　wake　it　did。　He　floated　down　as　light　as　a　wisp　of　spider　silk；　avoiding　what　might　have　been　a　bone…shattering　fall。
As　soon　as　he　got　his　feet　under　him；　he　snatched　a　polished　wooden　wand　from　its　sheath　on　his　left　hip；　pointed　it；　and　murmured　the　trignotger　word。　A　bubble　of　pungent　brown　acid　swelled　on　the　end；　then　hurtled　at　the　spirit。　It　plunged　into　the　being's　cyclopean　mask；　but　apnotparently　without　inflicting　any　harm。
The　spirit　charged。　Gromph　stood　in　place　until　his　foe　was　nearly　on　top　of　him；　then　he　spoke　a　single　word。　A　minor　teleportation　shifted　him　instantaneously　to　the　other　end　of　the　circular　room；　behind　his　attacker's　back。
K'rarza'q　skidded　to　a　halt　and　cast　about　in　confusion。　Gromph　had　bought　himself　a　second；　no　more。　He　quickly　dropped　the　wand　of　acid；　snatched　a　spiral…cut　staff　of　polished　carnelian　from　its　place　on　a　rack　of　wizard's　tools；　lifted　it　over　his　head；　and　began　to　chant。　The　rod　posnotsessed　special　virtues　against　beings　from　other　levels　of　reality。　Perhaps　with　it　in　his　hand；　he　could　finally　drive　a　spell　through　his　foe's　defenses。
The　netherspirit　heard　his　voice；　turned；　and　hurtled　toward　him。　This　time　it　charged　without　moving　its　limbs；　simply　shifting　over　the　distance　with　terrifying　speed。　Preserving　the　cadence　and　intonation　as　only　a　master　wizard　could；　Gromph　picked　up　the　pace　of　his　incantation。　He　very　much　wanted　to　finish　before　the　creature　closed　with　him　again。
He　succeeded；　though　only　barely。　K'rarza'q　was　nearly　within　arm's　reach　when　the　magic　blazed　into　existence。　A　lance　of　dazzling　glare　plunged　into　the　nether　spirit　s　eye。
The　reeking　creature　dropped　to　the　floor；　its　substance　unraveling　into　shapeless　clumps　and　tatters。　Gromph　smiled；　and　a　dozen　strands　of　spirit…stuff　reared　up　at　him　like　the　vipers　in　his　cursed　sister's　whip。
The　Archmage　gripped　the　scarlet　staff　with　both　hands；　just　as　a　Master　of　Melee…Magthere　had　taught　him　centuries　before；　during　the　six　months　every　student　mage　was　obliged　to　spend　in　the　warriors'　pyramid。　Wielding　the　implement　like　a　mon　spear；　he　thrust　one　end　of　it　into　what　seemed　to　be　K'rarza'q's　ragged；　squirming　core。
The　netherspirit　burst　into　inert　flecks　of　gray…black　slime。　Gromph's　protective　enchantments　prevented　any　of　the　splatter　from　fouling　his　own　person。
He　felt　a　certain　satisfaction　at　his　victory；　but　it　withered　quickly　benotcause　he　hadn't　killed　the　object　of　his　hatred；　merely　preserved　himself　from　the　result　of　another　failed　attempt；　and　in　the　process　discovered　he'd　utterly　failed　to　prehend　Quenthel's　resources　and　capacities。
What　was　that　bone　wand？　Where　had　it　e　from；　and　how　did　it　work？　Had　it　merely　broken　his　own　control；　or　had　it　summarily　placed　his　minion　under　his　enemy's　dominance？
He　glumly　concluded　that　until　he　knew　more；　it　would　be　foolish　to　continue　attacking　a　foe　seemingly　capable　of　turning　his　own　potent　wiznotardry　against　him。
So　he'd　break　off　hostilities。
And；　he　thought；　with　a　sudden　pang　of　uneasiness；　hope　his　sister　didn't　guess　who'd　engineered　her　recent　perils。














































C　h　a　p　t　e　r

S　E　V　E　N　T　E　E　N
All　the　undercreatures　gawked　when　Pharaun　and　Ryld　strolled　into　the　cellar；　and　why　not？　The　mage　doubted　this　foul　little　drinking　pit　had　ever　seen　such　an　elegant　figure　as　himself；　an　aristocrat　of　graceful　carnotriage；　exquisite　ornaments；　dress；　and　coiffure　。　。　。　well；　he　hoped　that；　after　some　emergency　adjustments；　his　hair　was　at　least　passable。
In　any　case；　it　was　plain　the　goblins；　ores；　and　whatevers　had　little　innotterest　in　aesthetic　appreciation。　They　whispered；　glowered；　and　fingered　their　weapons　whenever　they　thought　the　two　dark　elves　weren't　looking　at　them；　and　the　fear　and　hate　in　the　sweltering；　low…ceilinged　room　were　palpable。　Pharaun　supposed　that　considering　what　Greyanna　and　her　hunters　had　wrought　in　the　Braeryn　the　previous　night；　a　measure　of　surlinotness　was；　if　not　good　form；　at　least　understandable。
He　wondered　how　they'd　react　if　they　discovered　his　sister　had　slaughtered　their　fellows　by　the　score　merely　to　create　an　opportunity　to　kill　him。　Perhaps　it　was　a　question　best　left　in　the　realm　of　the　hyponotthetical。
Knowing　that　Ryld　was　watching　his　back；　the　Master　of　Sorcere　saunnottered　to　the　bar　and；　with　a　sweep　of　his　arm；　scattered　clattering　coins　across　it。　The　currency　was　the　usual　miscellany　encountered　in　Menzoberranzan…rounds；　squares；　triangles；　rings；　spiders；　and　octagons…　half　of　it　minted　by　the　dozen　or　so　greatest　noble　Houses　and　the　rest　imported　from　other　lands　in　the　Underdark　and　even　the　World　Above。　It　was　all　silver；　platinum；　or　gold；　though；　more　precious　metal　than　this　squalid　hole　probably　saw　in　a　decade。
〃Tonight；〃　Pharaun　announced；　〃this　pany　of　boon　panions　drinks　at　my　expense！〃
The　taverner；　a　squat　ore　with　a　twisted；　oozing　mouth　and　a　mangy　scalp；　stared　for　a　heartbeat　or　two；　scooped　up　the　coins；　and　began　dipnotping　some　foul…smelling　brew　from　a　filthy　tub。　Cursing　and　threatening　one　another；　the　rest　of　the　undercreatures　shoved　forward　to　get　it。　The　wizard　noted　that　no　one　thanked　him。
After　looking　around　for　another　moment；　Pharaun　spotted　another　dark　elf　slouched　in　a　corner；　evidently　one　of　the　wretches　who'd　sunk　so　low　the　goblinoids　accepted　him　as　one　of　their　own。
〃e　here；　my　friend；〃　the　wizard　beckoned。
The　outcast　flinched。　〃Me？〃
〃Yes。　What's　your　name？〃
The　fellow　hesitated；　then　said；　〃Bruherd；　once　of　House　Duskryn。〃
〃Indeed；　until　your　noble　kin　kicked　you　out。　We　have　much　in　mon；　Bruherd；　for　I　myself　am　outcast　twice　over。　Now　e　advise　me　on　a　matter　of　vital　importance。〃
〃I'm；　uh；　all　right　where　I　am。〃
〃I　know　you　don't　mean　to　be　unsociable；〃　said　Pharaun；　setting　blue　sparks　dancing　on　his　fingertips。
The　Duskryn　sighed；　and；　limping　in　a　manner　that　betrayed　some　chronic　pain；　did　as　Pharaun　had　bade　him。　He　was　gaunt；　and　half　a　dozen　boils　studded　his　neck　and　jaw。　He'd　evidently　parted　with　his　piwafwi　at　some　point　during　his　decline；　but　he　still　wore　a　filthy　robe　that；　the　Mizzrym　noted　with　mild　surprise；　had　once　been　a　wizard's。　With　the　aid　of　the　silver　ring；　he　could　see　that　the　dozens　of　pockets　no　longer　held　the　slightest　trace　of　magic。
〃They　may　kill　me　for　this；〃　Bruherd　said；　subtly　indicating　the