按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
With the incense burning and the spell begun； Pharaun asked his question； beseeching the elemental forces of magic and the planes of existence to grant him a meaningful answer。
〃Reveal to me the enemy of Quenthel Baenre of House Baenre in Menzoberranzan； the enemy who seeks to destroy her； who calls forth demons to slay her in the very temple where she reigns。〃
The burning incense flared； and smoke filled the room。 After a moment； a message formed in Pharaun's mind； words uttered by the。 wind； or perhaps the Weave itself。 However it was delivered； the message that Pharaun received was clear。
The one who seeks the high priestess's death shares her blood and her ambition。 Quenthels enemy sprang from the same womb but is not of the womb。
Pharaun blinked； his red eyes taking in the darkened room as the last remnants of the incense burned out and turned to ash。
Sprang from the same womb but not of the womb。 A sibling； but not a female。 A male？ A brother？ Gromph！ It had to be。 。。。
Pharaun was surprised； not so much that the Archmage of Menzoberranzan would wish his sister dead but by the fact that he hadn't see it before then。 Gromph had much to gain by eliminating the only real rival for Triel's ear。 The archmage could not have designs on the throne of House Baenre itself； but he could be the puppet master； pulling the strings behind the scenes。 Quenthel disagreed with everything her brother said； and vice versa； so she was an obvious and powerful impediment to any ambitions he might have。
Adding to that was the fact that Gromph had the knowledge of the Academy's defenses and had the capability to summon forth the fiends used in the attacks。 It was a talent few others possessed； at least few others with the interest to do so。 There were other powerful wizards within the halls of Sorcere； and Pharaun supposed that some of them would like to see someone replace Quenthel as the Mistress of the Academy； but Gromph was the one who stood to gain the most。
Though he knew the answer； Pharaun wasn't sure what to do with it。
On the one hand； he considered； I'm here with Quenthel。 Does telling her aid me more？ Or do I simply seal my fate upon returning to Sorcere？ If I tell Gromph that Quenthel is trying to find out who's after her； even do him a favor by misleading her…or eliminating her； a small part of his mind suggested…does my standing at Sorcere improve； or will he be unable to protect me from Triel's wrath？
Of course； Pharaun knew that most of his decisions hinged on the eventuality of returning to Menzoberranzan； and he was planning to argue with Quenthel against that course of action。 There were still too many variables； too many possible outes； before he would know which side of the siblings' conflict to join。 He could stall Quenthel for a while。 She wouldn't know what might be involved in his quest for her information。 For all she knew； he could be working through a spell that actually took days to plete or negotiating with an elemental of some sort； making a bargain to exchange some modity for a casting of a spell he himself did not know。 There were a number of lies he could tell her to keep her waiting。
For the time being； then； he decided he would stay mute on his findings and see which way the rothé herd roamed。 When the time was right； he would play it to his advantage。 Either oute； and he would improve his station within the Academy。
Pharaun rested a few moments longer on the floor； recovering from the exertions of the spell then began packing up his paraphernalia； stowing the strips of ivory away in a pocket of his piwafwi。
Next； Pharaun removed a small mirror from his haversack。 He briefly wondered if using the same spell he had just employed to find Quenthel's enemy would work better in these circumstances； but he couldn't cast it again without resting for a few hours then studying his spellbooks。 Firming his resolve； the wizard began chanting the words needed to activate the magical scrying。
The Master of Sorcere knew the spell was dangerous。 Attempting to look in on a deity without permission could have disastrous ramifications。 Still； he was intent on trying； if only to discern more of what was going on in the wake of the goddess's absence。 Drawing on the memories he had of his strange visit to the Demonweb Pits those decades past； he finished the spell and peered into the mirror； which was reflecting a cloudy image of elsewhere rather than his own dark…skinned face。
Pharaun gazed into the magical window for several minutes； waiting and hoping that he might recognize something in its murky depths。 There was nothing。 He willed the spectral eye that he knew was on the other end of his spell to glide forward； remotely peering this way and that； trying to catch a glimpse of something； anything solid in the formless fog。
The mage felt a tingle； a warning in the back of his mind。 He mentally scrambled to release the spell； to sever the connection with the eye at the far side of oblivion； and he almost succeeded； but not quite。 A backlash of energy slammed into him； hurtled outward through the mirror like a punch； while at the same time Pharaun sensed a wall offeree sliding down； cutting him off from his magical eye。
As his senses returned； Pharaun realized he was sprawled on his back； blinking as his eyes tried to focus on the ceiling。 He groaned and sat up； seeing that he had been hurtled backward from the mirror more than ten feet。 He rose onto wobbly legs and staggered back over to the mirror。 It was cracked； its glass surface spider…nebbed into hundreds of fissures。 He stared at the ruined mirror for a moment； wondering if the pattern was representative of something or merely a coincidence。
Well； that answers that question； Pharaun thought。 A mere mortal cannot penetrate the veil that has settled over the sixty…sixth layer of the Abyss； but perhaps a higher being can。
The Master of Sorcere shook his head and sighed as he gingerly gathered the fragmented remains of the mirror。
Why do I go through this trouble？ he thought as he tried to figure out where he should discard the ruined thing。 Everything I do for everyone； and all I get is grief in return。 I'll bet other folk don't go through this much trouble to track down their deities； he thought wryly。 I'm sure they just look them up anytime…
The wizard froze in the middle of the room； the beginnings of an idea forming。 He almost smacked himself in the head。
Of course！ he thought。 I've been going about this all wrong。 Why didn't I think of this before？ We're asking the wrong 。 。 。
Tossing the mirror down in a tinkle of glass； Pharaun began to pace； mulling his idea over more carefully。 A plan was beginning to form； one that was getting him excited。 The hardest part； he realized； would be figuring out how to convince Quenthel。
It was not long after that that Ryld and Valas returned from their own excursions。
The wizard took one look at the pair of them and quickly surmised that their endeavors had not only ended unsatisfactorily but violently。 Both drow were glum as well as bloodied and bruised。 Vala