Resurrection

With a slight exertion of will, Gromph let the image in the scrying crystal fade. It moved to gray, then to black.

The archmage leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. His entire body ached, his temples pounded, and sweat soaked him. Unfortunately, he could not take time to recover. Getting through the anti-scrying wards and finding the phylactery had been the easier of his two tasks. Next he had to get himself physically into House Agrach Dyrr, into Lolth's temple,

and destroy first the golem, then the phylactery.

"You should rest first, Archmage," Nauzhror said, reading his expression and knowing what would come next.

Gromph picked up his chalice and gulped another mouthful of wine. Enough. He did not want a light head when he assaulted House Agrach Dyrr.

"There is no time," he said. "Yasraena or her daughters may happen upon the phylactery. It will be easier to take out of the golem than it will be to take from Matron Mother Dyrr's hands."

Nauzhror could not help but nod agreement with that. He asked, "When, then?"

"Within the hour," Gromph replied and blew out a tired sigh.

Prath and Nauzhror digested that. Gromph closed his eyes and tried to still the pounding in his head.

"The wards will be challenging," Prath said at last.

Nauzhror backhanded Prath across his mouth and snapped, "The archmage is aware of the challenges, apprentice."

The rebuke drew blood. Prath sank back in his chair, daubing his broken lip. His eyes burned,

but he said nothing. Gromph was pleased to see the anger in Prath's face.

Gromph was aware of the challenges. He had just seen them; they all had.

An intricate network of wards, an altogether different layer of protections at least as complex as those he had just bypassed, would attempt to prevent his physical entrance into the fortress.

The combined power of all of the mages of House Xorlarrin had so far been unable to breach those wards. Gromph was no mere Xorlarrin wizard, of course, but neither was the second layer of wards likely to prove as easy to bypass as the anti-scrying protections.

And triggering a ward while he was physically present put him at risk for injury and death,

not merely detection. He remembered well the glaring red glow of the spell traps.

"Shall I accompany you, Archmage?" asked Nauzhror.

"No," Gromph replied, and massaged his temples. "I have other plans for you two. You,

Nauzhror, are to stay within my offices and help me attempt to scry House Agrach Dyrr."

Nauzhror's fat face pinched in a question. "Help you scry? You did exactly that. What do you mean?"

Gromph eyed Prath, who also looked confused.

"I mean," Gromph said, "that I will be in two places at once, Master Nauzhror."

Gromph let his words hang in the air without further explanation.

After only a moment, realization showed on Nauzhror's face.

"Prath will remain here in your guise," the Master of Sorcere said.

"Yes," Gromph affirmed. "And I in his, at least for a time. You will remain here too,

Nauzhror, as though assisting me with my divinations."

Prath's expression showed understanding but also a question. "Why the ruse, Archmage?" he asked. "Yasraena and her mages cannot scry into your office. No one can."

"No," Gromph agreed, "but no doubt she is trying. She knows I must move against her House,

and she will want to know when I am coming. We will mislead her. You and I will change forms to appear as the other. I will decrease the power of the wards around my office enough to allow

Yasraena and her wizards to finally get through. When she does, she will see Gromph and

Nauzhror attempting to scry House Agrach Dyrr, as though in preparation for an attack yet to come. The actual attack, however, will already have begun."

Nauzhror smiled.

"Very clever, Archmage," he said. "Might it not be easier, however, for me to take your form?"

Gromph had expected as much from Nauzhror. He eyed the master coolly and said, "I think not. And be careful, Nauzhror, lest I find your eagerness to sit in my chair unseemly."

Nauzhror's eyes found the floor. "I meant no presumption, Archmage," he explained. "I

merely thought that I might be better able to mimic you than would an apprentice."

Gromph decided to let the matter rest. He had made his point to Nauzhror. "Prath will serve.

Besides, having you, a Master of Sorcere, assisting me will further the deception."

Nauzhror accepted that with a submissive nod.

The archmage rose from his chair and said, "Time is short. Let us begin."

With that, Gromph removed his magical robes and the most well-known of his magical trinkets, including the ring worn only by the Archmage of Menzoberranzan. Nauzhror watched the ring slip from Gromph's finger with poorly disguised hunger.

Prath too rose and stripped himself of clothes and gear.

Presently, Gromph stood in the overlarge piwafwi, robes, and other accoutrements of an apprentice wizard, and Prath was in those of the Archmage of Menzoberranzan.

"They may fit you someday," he said to Prath.