Resurrection

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."

With that, he whispered a single word of power, one of the most powerful he knew.