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In addition to its officers； the patrol consisted of a number of warriors…in…training； 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 hair…sprinkled cloth covering his chest； stood up； and handed the craftsman a gold coin； a princely overnotpayment for his services。 He touched a finger to his lips in wordless exnotplanation 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 half…barbered hair stood on end； and the air around him smelled of ozone。 A crackling blue…white 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 solnotdiers danced； burned； and fell； as they possessed neither the spiritual strength nor the protective talismans that might have minimized their innotjuries 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 Melee…Magthere 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 spinnotning 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 deep…set 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；〃 Phanotraun 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 warnotriors 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 the chunks of rock didn't fall back to earth。 Instead； they shifted around one another and fitted together； formnoti