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Pharaun gasped and thrashed。 Ryld held on to him for fear that he'd roll off the roof。
When the seizure ended； the Mizzrym's face seemed gaunt and drawn in a way it hadn't been before。 More blood seeped from his wounded stomach。
〃This isn't going to work；〃 said Ryld； 〃not by itself。 Unless you have some more healing； you're going to die。〃
〃That would be 。。。 a profound tragedy 。 。 。 but 。 。 。〃
〃We have plenty of dark elves in the Braeryn tonight。 One of them surely brought some restorative magic along。 I'll just have to take it from him； or her。 Here's that darkness。〃
Ryld touched the roof and conjured a shadow that covered the Master of Sorcere and not much else。 With luck； the effect was localized enough that no one would notice the obscuration itself。
The weapons master rose and raced away。 Whenever possible； he ran along the rooftops； bounding from one to the next。 Often enough； hownotever； the houses were far enough apart that he had to jump down to the ground and skulk his way through the slaughter。
It was at such a time that he saw another hunting party。 Unfortunately； the group was too large to tackle。 He had to hide from it instead。 Crouched low； he watched a mage on lizard…back lob a yellow spark through the window of one of the houses。 Booming； yellow flame exnotploded through the room beyond。 A moment after it died； the screaming began。 Ryld winced。 As a child of six； he'd survived precisely such a masnotsacre； and； severely blistered； lain trapped for hours beneath a weight of charred； stinking bodies； the luckier ones dead； the live ones whimpering and twitching in their helpless agony。
But it wasn't him burned nor buried tonight； and he spat the unpleasnotant memory away。 He glanced about； checking to see if anyone was looknoting at him； then broke from cover and floated upward。
He dashed on along a steeply sloping roof engraved with web patterns and defaced； he noticed； with another slave race emblem。 He sensed somenotthing above and behind him； and pivoted。 His boots slipped； and he levinottated for an instant while he found his footing amid the carvings。
He looked up and spied a huge black horse galloping through the air as easily as the mon equines of the World Above could run across a field。 Fire crackled around its hooves and pulsed from its nostrils。 The dark elf male on its back held a scimitar； but wasn't making any extraordinary effort to lift it into position for a cut。 Apparently he was counting on his demonic steed to make the kill； and why not？ What goblinoid could withnotstand a nightmare？
Ryld froze as if he were such a hapless undercreature paralyzed with fear。 Meanwhile； he timed the speed of the nightmare's approach。 At the last possible moment； hoping to take the phantom horse and its master by surprise； he whipped Splitter out of its scabbard and cut。
And missed。 Somehow the demon arrested its charge； and the blade fell short。
Its fiery hooves churning eighteen inches above the rooftop； the nightnotmare snorted。 Thick； hot； sulfurous smoke streamed from its nostrils； ennotveloping Ryld； stinging and half blinding him。 He heard more than saw the black creature lunging； striking with its reptilian fangs； and he renottreated a step。 The move saved him； but when he counterattacked； the nightmare too had taken itself out of range。
Through the stinking vapor； he glimpsed the infernal horse circling。 It sprang at him again； this time rearing to batter him with its front hooves。 He crouched and lifted Splitter。 The point took the steed in the chest； and for a moment； he thought he'd disposed of it； but； its legs working frantin