Warty； bearded ogres overturned a twelvewheeled wagon； dumping out the dark elves who'd been making a stand inside。 A walking mushroom； taller than any of the brutes； and； with its slender； fluted stem； far more graceful； swung wide to avoid the little massacre。
Pharaun slipped around the slaughter as well。 A few more strides brought him to a scene that； after the carnage he'd just witnessed； seemed almost unreal。 The westernmost portion of the marketplace was quiet。 Some of the merchants had armed themselves and taken up positions outside their tents and kiosks； but they seemed calm and unafraid。
Over the course of an adventurous life； Pharaun had witnessed the same phenomenon before。 Under the proper circumstances； it was possible for folk to remain essentially oblivious to a pitched battle raging just a few yards away。
The wizard ran on。 Ahead； a luminous green circle scribed on the ground surrounded a modious stall built of hardened fungus。 A heavyset male stood in the doorway with an arbalest in his hand and a toad； his familiar； squatting on his shoulder。 He wore a nightshirt； and his feet were bare。 The merchant scowled when he spotted Pharaun。
〃Stay back；〃 he said； his throaty voice even deeper than Ryld's。
Pharaun halted； took a breath； and wound up coughing； thanks to the smoke fouling the air。
〃My dear master Blundyth； is that any way to greet a faithful customer？〃
〃It's the way to greet the madman who attacked a patrol only yesterday。〃
That was right； Pharaun thought； it had been only yesterday。 So much had happened since； it felt like a year。
〃My past indiscretions no longer matter；〃 the Mizzrym said。 〃Do you have any notion what's going on？〃
〃You mean the smoke and motion over yonder？〃 Blundyth nodded to the east。 〃I guess a merchant's eliminating the petition。 It's nothing to do with me； though I'm ready if trouble spills this way。〃
〃Would that were true；〃 said Pharaun。 〃Alas； none of us is truly ready for tonight。 Have you glanced up over the roof of your shop？〃
He pointed to the orange light presently flickering in the east。
〃The nobles are up to something；〃 Blundyth said。 〃Maybe some of the Houses have joined forces to wipe out a mon rival。 Again； it's nothing to do with me。〃
〃You're mistaken。 All across the city； the undercreatures are rebelling。〃
Blundyth snorted； 〃You are mad。〃
〃Don't you or your neighbors own thralls？〃
〃Of course。 They're off somewhere。〃
〃Indeed。 Off preparing to cut your throats。〃
〃Just go away； Master Mizzrym。〃 Blundyth shifted his grip on the staff and added； 〃We always got along。 Don't make me hurt you。〃
〃The ores pose a considerable threat。 I know how to oppose it； but I need your help。 I still have credit here； don't I？〃
〃I don't sell to outlaws。 I don't want any trouble with the priestesses。〃
Pharaun looked into the merchant's eyes and saw that he'd never convince him。
〃Too bad。 You'll regret this decision。 In just a few minutes； most likely； but by then it will be too late。〃
The master turned and strode away； but once he was out of Blundyth's sight； he circled back around。 Creeping through the cramped spaces between the booths； he approached the burly draw's stall from the side。 As he skulked along； he listened to hear if the undercreatures were ing closer； but he couldn't tell。 He suspected that one of the cursed sound baffles was muffling the noise。
At any rate； he reached the dimpled fungal structure without any ores attacking him。 He swept his hands through a mystic pass and whispered an incantation。 The protective circle ot light winked out of existence。
Pharaun ran to the stall； floated upward； and swung himself onto the roof。 The petrified fungus supported him like stone。 Blundyth cursed and came stalking around the side of the stand； his crossbow at the ready。 Pharaun thought he'd better make sure the merchant didn't get a chance to use it。
The wizard jumped off the roof onto Blundyth's back。 He knew he hadn't executed the move as nimbly as poor Ryld would have； but it worked。 It slammed the merchant to his knees。 The toad hopped away。
Clinging to his victim； the master drove his dirk repeatedly into the big male's side。 Sometimes the blade plunged deep； and sometimes it caught on a rib。 Blundyth flailed and bucked for a while； couldn't break free； then tried to aim the arbalest back over his shoulder。 Pharaun ducked away from it。 Finally the merchant fell sideways； pinning his attacker's knife and hand beneath him。 Pharaun dragged his hand free； but didn't bother with the dirk。 He was about to procure a set of vastly superior weapons。 He wiped his bloody fingers on Blundyth's clothing； then rose and headed for the entrance to the stall。
Blundyth's neighbors watched him； but didn't interfere。 As the dead male might have observed； his murder was nothing to do with them。
The wizard's supply shop was as wellstocked as usual。 Jars； bottles； and boxes stood on limestone shelves； and a greenish mirror glowed on a wooden stand in the corner。 The air smelled of spices； herbs； bitter incense； and decay。
Blundyth's piwafwi lay carelessly draped across a chest； and it was the first item Pharaun appropriated。 The cloak fit him like a tent； but it had the customary row upon row of hidden pockets。 Next he examined the vials and drawers； finding the magical ponents that corresponded to the spells he had prepared。 With every one he filched； he felt a little better； almost like a cripple regaining the use of his legs。
As he worked his way across the room； he spotted a pair of boots sitting atop a little cupboard。 They were plainly special in some way； for the maker had tooled runes into the leather。 Without his silver ring； Pharaun lacked the ability to instantly discern what virtues they possessed； but playing a hunch； he decided to take the time to try them on。
The boots squirmed； molding themselves to his feet； then quivered against his flesh like an animal eager to run。 He took an experimental step； and the magical footwear kicked off on its own； augmenting the strength of his legs and propelling him all the way across the shop in a single bound。
Not bad； he thought。 Not as good as a flying carpet； but helpful nonetheless。
He took a few more strides； getting the feel of the boots； then headed out。 Just as he exited the shop； a howling； shrieking cacophony exploded out of the air。 An instant later； a horde of undercreatures—ores； mostly； with a sprinkling of longarmed goblins—came charging out of the stands of stalls and kiosks to the east。
Blundyth's neighbors gaped in utter astonishment。 For some； the instant of consternation was fatal。 The undercreatures swarmed over them like ants harvesting the carcass of a mouse。
Some of the remaining merchants bolted。 Others shot their hand crossbows； or conjured flashes of magic。 One optimist sought to cow the rebels with threats； invective； and mands until a scrofulous ore； slopping the liquid out of a tin bucket； threw some of Syrzan's liquid fire on him。 The incendiary ignited flesh as easily as stone。
His great blanket of zpiwafivi flapping around him； Pharaun ran。 Each amplified stride bounced him off the ground； but thanks to the virtues of the magic boots； he always landed softly。
A pair of ores glared at him and hefted their spears。 He whispered an incantation； and a ragged blackness； the essence of death itself； danced among the undercreatures。 They collapsed； already rotting。
For the moment at least； Pharaun was in the clear。 He raced on； while all around him； his city went down in blood and fire。
〃You must know some song； some magic； to track an enemy；〃 Houndaer said。
〃If I did； I'd be singing it；〃 Omraeth said curtly。 〃Now be quiet。 If the masters hear us ing； they'll do their best to evade us。〃
〃He's right；〃 said Tsabrak； scuttling along on his eight segmented legs。 〃Shut up； or we'll never get this done。〃
Houndaer was wearing Ryld Argith's greatsword strapped across his back； and for an instant he fairly quivered with the urge to try it out on his panions。 He wasn't used to such insolence； not from other males； and certainly not from a degraded creature like a drider。
Yet he restrained himself； because he needed them。 He prayed he'd be the one to catch up with the fugitives； who'd made him look a fool in the eyes of the other renegades； but he knew he couldn't kill both of them by himself。
Tsabrak raised his hand and whispered； 〃Wait〃
〃What is it？〃 Houndaer asked。
Instead of replying； the halfspider started taking deep breaths。 His nostrils flared。 He turned this way and that； then crouched down to sniff along the floor。 His front legs bent； and his arachnid lower body tilted like a tray to bring his dark elf head down。
〃Did you pick up the scent？〃 Houndaer asked。
He felt an upswelling of excitement； and made a conscious effort to quell it。 He didn't doubt that Tsabrak smelled something pertinent； but over the course of the last hour； the brute； whose metamorphosis had evidently altered his perceptions； had picked up the trail several times only to lose it again。
〃Follow me；〃 said Tsabrak； nocking an arrow。
The drider led his panions to the arched entrance to a training hall； where target mannequins stood in shrouds of spiderweb and a tally board hung on the lefthand wall。 Over the years； the chalk had lost most of its phosphorescence； but Houndaer could still read the score of a fencing bout in faintly gleaming ciphers。
Peer as he might； however； he could see no sign of Masters Argith and Mizzrym。 He gave Tsabrak a questioning and somewhat impatient glance。 The drider responded by pointing at the floor。
When a proud noble family had held the castle； a workman in their employ had painted the floor with pistes and dueling circles。 Like the chalk； the magical enamel still radiated a trace of light。 At one spot； a spatter of blood was occluding it。
Houndaer's pulse ticked faster。 He looked up at the drider and mouthed； 〃Where？〃
Tsabrak led them toward the tiers of seats on the right。 The noble noticed for the first time that a space separated the sculpted calcite risers and the wall。
Elsewhere in the castle； one hunter shouted to another。
Relax； thought Houndaer。 It's my kill。
He held his breath as he and his underlings—for that they were； even if they； by virtue of belonging to the conspi