How did you find us? he asked. Why are you back?

She pouted and her wings fluttered. Such questions, Master Mizzrym! I found you by looking.

You are not hard to locate. As for why I'm back. . Her face grew serious and she looked directly into his eyes. I wanted to say good-bye.

To Pharaun's surprise, a pit opened in his stomach. Good-bye? He let his fingertip trace a line along her hip.

She looked away for a moment. I fear we will not see each other again, dear heart, and I

needed to look on you one last time.

He did not believe a word of that last, though he very much wanted to.

You've finished your charge and now return to Vhok's embrace? Is that it? He was surprised by the bitterness that leaked into his tone. His hands on her body grew less gentle.

She smiled, reached up, and ran a long-nailed finger down his jaw-line. You are so jealous,

my mage. No, I will not return to Kaanyr. I have told him all that I was charged to tell, and now

I am done with him. At least for now. I have grown interested in a different kind of man.

Pharaun ignored the implicit compliment. What did you tell him of us? he asked.

Everything, she replied. That was my charge.

Pharaun had expected nothing different, but the answer still pained him distantly.

If you will not return to him and your charge is complete, why would we not see each other again? he asked her. The question betrayed a certain weakness, and he hated himself for asking it, but he could not help himself.

She smiled, and her eyes grew as sad as her demonic blood allowed. Because I do not think you will survive what is coming, she answered.

For a moment, he could think of nothing to say. Her candor surprised him. Finally he managed a smile.

What is coming?

She shook her head and said, I don't know. But this plane is dangerous and stinks of. .

something.

He dropped his hands from her. You are mistaken, he said.

She looked at him in a way she had not done before. Perhaps I am. I can always hope. But if I

am not, may I have something to remember you by? A token of my gallant drow mage?

Pharaun wondered if a token freely given was what Aliisza really was after. He knew what a skilled spellcaster could do with such a prize. A part of him wished it were otherwise, but he had seen through her.

Before that, tell me what is happening in Menzoberranzan, he demanded.

Aliisza frowned, as though the fate of Pharaun's city was an afterthought. It stands, she replied. Lolth's power has returned to the priestesses. Kaanyr is in retreat, and the duergar soon will be.

Pharaun felt a surge of relief at the news. Menzoberranzan still stood.

Odd, he thought, that he felt such attachment to a place when he felt no such attachment to any of the persons in it.

Distantly, he wondered if Gromph had survived the siege. If not, "Archmage Pharaun

Mizzrym" sounded pleasing. And since House Baenre would be selecting Gromph's replacement,

he had all the more reason to ally himself closely with Quenthel.

A memento? Aliisza prodded. Something small. A lock of your hair?

Pharaun smiled at her, a hard smile. No, Aliisza. No token. I think I'll keep all of me to me.

She took his meaning; her brow furrowed in genuine anger.

You misunderstand, she protested. I- She looked over his shoulder and behind him. It seems your absence has been noted. Farewell, beloved.

With that, Aliisza kissed him as though she never would again and vanished, teleporting away without a sound and leaving him staring at the wall. The smell of her perfume and the remembrance of her last word lingered in the air.

Before Pharaun could do anything further, his invisible flesh erupted in purple flames. Faerie fire. A flutter went through his gut.

The stench of rotting meat overwhelmed the last lingering aroma of Aliisza-Jeggred's breath.

Pharaun quickly rehearsed an excuse in his mind, even while he thought through the incantation that would trigger one of his more powerful spells, a spell that required the utterance of only a single word.

Grabbing two fingers' full of web from the wall, he dispelled his invisibility spell, turned, and found that his nose nearly touched Jeggred's heaving chest. The draegloth had moved behind him with the silence of an assassin.

"Jegg-"

With breathtaking speed, Jeggred grabbed him by the throat with one of his fighting claws and lifted him from the ground until they were face to face. Pharaun gagged-partially from his proximity to the draegloth's breath, partially from the clawed hand squeezing his windpipe.

"A spell to cover your absence?" the draegloth asked, nodding back at the chamber where the illusory Pharaun still reclined. Jeggred sniffed the air thoughtfully. "What is it you're doing down here, mage?" His red eyes narrowed. He extended his arm and slammed Pharaun against the cave wall.

Pharaun's magical piwafwi and rings prevented the impact from cracking his ribs, prevented even Jeggred's incredible strength from closing his throat, but only just.

"Release. . me," Pharaun demanded.

His anger was rising, partially at Jeggred, partially at the fact that he feared he might have mistaken Aliisza's motives. Still, he considered it beneath his dignity to flail about, so he remained still.

Jeggred squeezed Pharaun's throat harder and held his other fighting claw before Pharaun's face. With his inner, human hands, the draegloth took hold of Pharaun's arms by the wrists,

presumably to prevent him from casting any spell that might require gestures to complete.

Pharaun tested their strength for a moment and found them more than a match for his own.

Scraps of old meat hung between Jeggred's yellow fangs.

"She is manipulating you," Pharaun croaked, and both of them knew he meant Danifae.

"No," Jeggred said and sneered. "She's manipulating you. And my aunt." He spat the last word as though it tasted foul.

"You're a fool, Jeggred," Pharaun managed. "And time will show it."

The draegloth exhaled a cloud of vileness into his face and said, "If so, you will not be alive to see it, because you, wizard, are out of time. This has been long in coming."

Jeggred looked back up the cavern to see if either Danifae or Quenthel had stirred. Neither had. Pharaun's illusionary image sat on its rock in blissful Reverie.

To Pharaun's surprise, the serpents of Quenthel's whip-all of them-stared silently down the tunnel, watching the confrontation.

Pharaun understood it then. If the serpents were watching the confrontation, then Quenthel was watching it too, at least indirectly. She wanted to see what Pharaun would do when confronted with her nephew. Another test. He was growing tired of tests.

Jeggred, of course, saw nothing other than the opportunity to kill an irritating rival. With an unexplainable illusion of Pharaun sitting in the campsite, the draegloth probably believed that he could concoct any story he wanted about Pharaun's treachery.

Jeggred leaned in close and his rancid breath made Pharaun wince.

"You see it now, don't you?" the draegloth asked. "Go ahead and scream. You'll be dead before they awaken. I'll explain it as the execution of a traitor and feed on your heart. My aunt will shout, but she'll dare nothing more."

Pharaun could not help but smirk. Jeggred truly was a dolt. He had all the subtlety of a warhammer. It surprised Pharaun that the draegloth possessed any drow blood at all, so inept was he at scheming. Of course, having met and killed Belshazu, Pharaun knew that Jeggred's demon bloodline was something less than spectacular.

"Your death amuses you?" Jeggred whispered, leaning in close.

Pharaun twisted his head to the side so he could more easily speak.

"No, you do."