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araun； and calmly lifted his crossbow。
The wizard threw himself flat； and the bolt whizzed over his head。 Still prone； he shot his own crossbow。 The shaft plunged into the renegade's chest。
The rogue snarled； drew his scimitar； and advanced； but only for three steps。 He stopped； and his arm fell； his sword clattering against the floor。 An astonished look on his face； he dropped to his knees。
Rising； Pharaun noticed that the dying male's garments were as tasteful as his coiffure。
〃Who's your tailor？〃 Pharaun asked； but the renegade merely fell facenotdown。 〃Ah； well。〃
The wizard strode on to one of the outside doors； unbolted it； and shoved it open。 Perhaps the casters were magical； for they worked as well as ever。 The panel rolled easily and quietly aside。
On the other side was a sheer drop to the glowing palaces a thousand feet below。 Silently thanking the dead guard's House； he touched the stolen brooch and sprang over the edge。
C h a p t e r
T W E N T Y
T W O
Pharaun could float down a thousand feet； or he could fall； relying on levitation to slow his descent at the end。 The latter course was dangerous。 If he waited too long to counteract the pull of gravity； he would break bones or even pulp himself when he landed。
Still； he chose to plummet； because of what he saw beneath him。
He'd lost track of time inside the rogues' citadel； but it was plain that the Call had gone forth around the black death of Narbondel； when most dark elves had gone home for the night。 With few drow about to contest them for possession of the streets； the undercreatures had erupted from their kennels to kill； loot； and destroy。 Pharaun couldn't make out indinotviduals； but he could see the mobs as great surging； formless masses like the living jellies that infested certain caverns； and he could certainly see the fires they were setting。 He could smell the strange； foul smoke of burning stone； and he could hear the goblins shouting。
Perhaps the embattled moners looked to the noble Houses for succor。 If so； they waited in vain。 Sorcerous power flashed white and red from the windows and baileys of the stalactite castles as the nobles strugnotgled with their own rebellious slave soldiers。 For the time being； at least； the drow were pinned down； unable to brace the marauders outside their own walls。
A house was growing larger and larger beneath Pharaun's boots。 He made himself lighter than air but still slammed down hard。 The impact knocked the wind and the sense out of him； and when his wits returned； he was bouncing upward again。
Restoring a portion of his weight； he achieved a more graceful landing； flattened himself against the roof； and peered about。 The goblins weren't running amok in his immediate vicinity…not yet…so he jumped down onto the street。 Glad the Bazaar was just three blocks away； he dashed in that direction。
He'd almost reached his destination when a motley assortment of scaly little kobolds； pig…faced ores； and shaggy； hulking bugbears surged from an alley。 So far； the revolt was going well for them。 They'd manage to lay their hands on spears； swords； and axes； and bloody them； too。
Pharaun ran even faster。 A javelin flew past him； but the thralls didn't chase him。 Evidently they were more interested in other prey。
When the wizard reached the marketplace； he cursed； for the riot had arrived there ahead of him。 Undercreatures were looting and burning the stalls； creating patches of dazzling glare。 Some of the merchants had fled。 Others attempted to defend their wares； unsuccessfully if they relied on g