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〃Now you're joking。〃
〃Oh； no。 I firmly believe you engineered the plot against me； and I intend to make sure you don't get up to any more mischief。 Ever。 If you can't municate； work magic； or grip a weapon； that should take care of it。 Obviously； it won't be possible for you to continue at ArachTinilith； and I wouldn't count on the warmest of weles when you return home。 I doubt Mez'Barris Armgo will have much interest in a grotesquely crippled and thoroughly useless daughter。 She may even consider you an embarrassment to be killed or locked away。〃
Enraged； panicked； Drisinil lunged； but never landed a blow。 Powerful hands grabbed her from behind； hauled her back； and something hard and heavy bashed her over the head。 Her legs folded beneath her。 She would have fallen if not for her captors holding her up。
Quave's voice sounded over Drisinil's shoulder。 〃We've got her； Mistress。〃
〃Thank you；〃 Quenthel said。 〃Take her to the penance chamber and secure her。〃
〃Yes； Mistress；〃 said Quave。 〃1 assume you'll do the cutting yourself。〃
〃I'd like to；〃 said the Baenre； 〃but there's another matter demanding my attention。 You can do it。 Enjoy yourself。 Just mind she doesn't die of it。 They can drown in their own blood when you take the tongue。〃
Pharaun relaxed in the chair； enjoying the feel of the barber's fingers kneading tonic into his scalp。 It wasn't as relaxing as a fullbody massage； but soothing nonetheless。
The barber chattered away； and the wizard periodically responded with a nonmittal； 〃Indeed；〃 or a grunt。 Like； he suspected； tonsorial customers of all races in all ages of the world； he wasn't actually listening。
The barber's stall； a little box redolent of unguents and pomades； was open at the front； and it was more interesting to gaze out at the sights of the Bazaar。 A moner strode by carrying a clucking chicken； imported from the Lands of Light； in a box。 A merchant had probably promised the fellow the fowl would lay for years to e； though in reality； such birds rarely thrived in the Underdark。 A portrait painter rendered his subject； the enchantments in the brush enabling him to fill the canvas with astonishing speed。 An armorer drove a rapier through a bound； gagged kobold to demonstrate the sharpness of the point。
Cowl up； mantle drawn close around him； and Splitter hidden by the charm of concealment Pharaun had cast on it； Ryld loitered across the way in a tent with the sides folded up。 There； games of all sorts were on display。 The hulking swordsman stood pondering a sava board； where he'd set up a problem with the onyx and carnelian pieces。
A change came over the scene beyond the doorway； and people looked to the north。 Some started to squeeze up against the stalls； clearing the center of the lane。 A ragged； furtivelooking moner hurried away in the opposite direction。
Ryld sauntered to the near edge of the tent； glanced where everyone else was peering； then gave Pharaun a subtle nod； confirming what the wizard had already guessed。 A patrol was headed their way。
Pharaun wished the guards could have waited just five more minutes； but alas； he would have to go to work before the barber finished with him。 A tragedy； but it couldn't be helped。
A moment later the patrol marched by； casting stern glances hither and yon； their tread silent thanks to their enchanted boots。 In at least nominal mand was a priestess of ArachTinilith armed with a polished wooden wand。 Assisting her were a teacher from MeleeMagthere and Gelroos Zaphresz； one of Pharaun's junior colleagues in Sorcere。 It was unfortunate。 Possessed of a store of jokes and ical ditties； Gelroos was congenial pany。 At least if Pharaun murdered the other mage today； he wouldn't have to worry about Gelroos trying to assassinate him tomorrow。
In addition to its officers； the patrol consisted of a number of warriorsintraining； boys whom Ryld had almost certainly instructed at one time or another。 Pharaun wasn't particularly worried about them。 His fellow teachers were the real threat。
The Master of Sorcere waited until the guards had marched past then； surprising the barber； he tossed aside the hairsprinkled cloth covering his chest； stood up； and handed the craftsman a gold coin； a princely overpayment for his services。 He touched a finger to his lips in wordless explanation of what he actually wanted to buy。 He picked up his piwafwi； whose elegance he'd obscured with a minor illusion； swirled it around his shoulders； walked to the doorway of the stall； and peeked out。
The patrol had tramped about twenty yards down the lane。 Any farther and they'd turn a corner； so Pharaun had attained as much separation from the enemy as he was going to get。 He draped a fold of silk across the lower half of his face； then stepped out into the open； brandished a glass marble and a pinch of rust； and recited an incantation。 His halfbarbered hair stood on end； and the air around him smelled of ozone。 A crackling bluewhite spark appeared in the air before him； then shot down the aisle。
When it reached the patrol； the flickering point of radiance exploded； shooting flares of lightning in all directions。 Many of the callow young soldiers danced； burned； and fell； as they possessed neither the spiritual strength nor the protective talismans that might have minimized their injuries and kept them on their feet。 Unfortunately； the sizzling； jumping arcs of power struck a handful of vendors and shoppers as well。 Pharaun hadn't particularly wanted to harm nonbatants； but the aisle was simply too cramped。
The rest of the patrol began to pivot。 The captain from MeleeMagthere was smoking； blackened； and blistered； but if he was anything like Ryld； his burns weren't likely to slow him down。 Gelroos and the priestess looked as if the lightning hadn't even touched them。 The female was spinning around a hair faster than the other two； raising her baton。 Thanks to his silver ring； Pharaun could tell it was a spider wand； a weapon capable of entangling him in sticky webbing。
He had no intention of enduring that kind of humiliation。 He rattled off a string of magic words and thrust his arm out。 Five slivers of arcane force leaped from his fingertips； hurtled across the intervening space； and slammed into the cleric's torso。 She stumbled backward and collapsed。
A wiry male with deepset eyes； and a trace of a scholar's stoop； Gelroos peered up the street and called； 〃Master Mizzrym〃
〃So much for my ability to manufacture a nonmagical disguise；〃 Pharaun answered； grinning； 〃but then we do know one another fairly well。〃
〃You're allowed to try to kill another Master of Sorcere；〃 said Gelroos。 〃That's entirely proper。 But you overstepped when you struck down these youths。 It was pointless and sloppy； and their mothers won't appreciate the waste。 They'll reward me for taking you down。〃
〃Does it help if I explain that all I do； I do to deliver Menzoberranzan from twin calamities？〃 Pharaun asked。
Gelroos raised his hands； preparing to conjure； and the remaining warriors charged。
〃Ah。 I thought not。〃
He too began to cast。
Gelroos pleted his spell a moment before Pharaun finished his。 Crashing and crunching； the surface of the lane spat stone in the air。 It was like a geyser； save for the fact that