蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第64章

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〃But　at　such　times　as　I　do　not　require　you；〃　the　matron　continued；　〃you　may　use　the　spy　as　you　see　fit。　If　she　tells　you　anything　of　interest；　pass　it　along；　but　the　point　of　your　efforts　is　chastisement；　not　interrogation。　I　doubt　she　has　anything　all　that　important　to　confide。　We　already　know　who　our　enemies　are。〃
〃Yes；　Mother。〃　The　halfdemon　crouched；　leered　into　Faeryl's　face；　and　said；　〃I　can　make　the　fun　last。　You'll　see。〃
He　stuck　out　his　long；　pointed　tongue　and　licked　blood　from　her　face。　The　member　was　as　rough　as　a　beast's。
The　figure　in　the　chapel　doorway　had　a　bulbous　head　with　huge；　protruding　eyes；　dry；　wrinkled　hide；　and　four　wriggling　tentacles　surrounding　and　obscuring　the　mouth。　It　had　gnarled　threefingered　hands；　a　body　with　contours　and　proportions　different　than　those　of　a　drow；　and　an　assortment　of　talismans　and　amulets　burning　with　strange　enchantments。　Syrzan；　Pharaun　had　no　doubt；　was　a　member　of　the　psionically　gifted　species　called　illithids。　Specifically；　it　was　one　of　the　few　such　creatures　to　follow　the　path　of　wizardry　and　ultimately　transform　itself　into　an　undead　entity　known　as　an　alhoon。　The　thing　was　surely　prodigiously　powerful；　immune　to　the　ravages　of　time；　and　still　entirely　capable　of　reading　the　masters'　minds　and　discerning　the　treachery　therein。
Like　Pharaun；　Ryld　had　sprung　up　from　his　bench。　The　hulking　warrior　flung　himself　at　Houndaer；　no　doubt　in　an　attempt　to　get　his　weapons　back。　Pharaun；　who　thought　he　needed　his　spell　ponents　just　as　badly；　scrambled　after　his　friend。
The　weapons　master　threw　a　punch；　knocked　Houndaer　backward　off　his　bench；　and　snatched　up　Splitter。　He　whirled；　looking　for　the　next　threat；　and　almost　whacked　his　fellow　teacher　with　the　blade。
Pharaun　reached　for　his　cloak；　then　realized　Houndaer's　unassuming　panion　was　singing　a　wordless　arpeggio。
Had　Pharaun　already　been　wearing　the　piwafwi　with　all　its　protective　enchantments；　he　might　have　resisted　the　song；　but　instead　its　power　stabbed　into　his　mind。　He　laughed　convulsively；　uncontrollably；　and　staggered　backward。　Finally；　he　fell　to　his　knees；　his　stomach　muscles　clenching　and　aching。
He'd　suspected　the　nondescript　little　male　was　more　than　he'd　seemed；　a　formidable　batant　employing　a　bland　appearance　to　throw　his　adversaries　off　guard；　and　he'd　been　right。　The　〃craftsman〃　was　in　reality　a　bard；　a　spellcaster　who　worked　his　wonders　through　the　medium　of　music。
Teeth　gritted；　Pharaun　shook　off　the　pulsion　to　laugh。　Gasping；　he　lifted　his　head　and　looked　around。　The　bard　was　simultaneously　drawing　his　enchanted　dagger　and　starting　another　song；　this　time　pitched　falsetto。　Houndaer　was　on　his　feet　battling　Ryld；　their　swords　ringing。　At　the　end　of　the　room；　Tsabrak；　shifting　his　eight　legs　in　agitation；　aimed　an　arrow　at　Pharaun；　while　in　the　doorway　the　alhoon　simply　stood　with　only　its　mouth　tentacles　moving；　seemingly　content　to　let　its　patriots　do　the　fighting。
Pharaun　threw　himself　sideways。　The　arrow　missed　him　and　clacked　and　skipped　across　the　floor。　The　mage　slapped　the　stone；　and　a　wall　of　sheltering　darkness　sprang　up　between　him　and　the　foe。　Moving　with　a　practiced；　silent　grace；　he　scrambled　on。
Something　clamped　down　on　Pharaun's　mind；　smothering　his　will　and　robbing　him　of　the　ability　to　move。　The　undead　mind　flayer　hadn't　been　idle　after　all。　Syrzan　had　simply　utilized　its　psionic　strength　in　preference　to　its　wizardry　and　thus　hadn't　needed　to　whirl　its　threefingered　hands　in　arcane　passes。　The　wall　of　shadow　no　impediment；　the　Prophet　had　reached　out；　found　Pharaun's　intellect；　and　struck　a　crippling　blow。
The　barricade　of　darkness　disappeared。　Syrzan　must　have　employed　a　bit　of　countermagic　to　dispel　it　and　in　so　doing；　afforded　Pharaun　a　view　of　the　space　beyond。　Rather　to　his　surprise；　Houndaer　was　still　alive；　perhaps　because　Tsabrak　had　discarded　his　bow；　drawn　a　broadsword；　and　e　to　fight　alongside　him。　The　two　conspirators　were　trying　to　catch　Ryld　between　them；　generally　an　effective　tactic；　but　thus　far　the　teacher's　piwafwi；　dwarven　armor；　and　prowess　had　preserved　him　from　harm。
The　Tuin'Tarl　made　a　halfhearted　slash；　and　Ryld；　recognizing　the　feint　for　what　it　was；　didn't　react。　The　pale　phosphorescence　of　the　carvings　gleaming　on　his　naked　limbs；　Tsabrak　spat　venom　onto　his　blade。　The　bard　brought　his　shrill　singing　to　a　crescendo；　crossed　his　legs；　and　wrapped　his　arms　tightly　around　his　torso；　all　but　tying　himself　in　knots。
With　the　aid　of　his　ring；　Pharaun　saw　a　glittering　pulse　of　magic　fly　from　the　singer　to　Ryld。　He　could　even　tell　what　it　was　intended　to　do。　His　friend　was　supposed　to　contort　his　own　body　in　helpless　imitation　of　the　bard's　constrictive　posture。　But；　strong　of　spirit；　Ryld　resisted　the　pulsion　without　even　realizing　he　was　doing　it。
The　weapons　master　faked　a　cut　at　Houndaer's　head；　then　whirled　and　dived。　He　slid　between　Tsabrak's　legs；　breaking　away　from　the　drider　and　Houndaer；　too；　leaped　up；　and　charged　Syrzan。　He　recognized　the　alhoon　as　the　most　dangerous　of　his　foes；　even　though　the　illithilich　hadn't　attacked　him　yet。
Syrzan　reached　into　a　pocket　and　produced　a　small　ceramic　vial。　When　it　swung　the　bottle　from　right　to　left；　a　dozen　orbs　of　bright　flame　materialized　in　its　wake。　They　shot　at　Ryld　in　one　straight　line　and　exploded　one　after　the　other；　banging　rapidly　like　some　hellish　drum　roll。
The　glare　was　dazzling。　For　a　moment；　Pharaun　couldn't　see　anything；　and　he　made　out　Ryld　through　floating　blobs　of　afterimage。　His　friend　appeared　unscathed。　He　was　still　charging　and　almost　in　sword's　reach　of　the　alhoon。
Syrzan　used　its　mind　flayer　talents。　Even　though　the　lich　hadn't　directed　the　attack　at　him；　Pharaun　felt　the　fringe　of　it。　It　was　like　a　sprinkle　of　hot　ash　burning　his　brain。　Ryld　dropped。
Syrzan　gazed　down　at　the　warrior　for　a　moment；　evidently　making　sure　he　was　truly　incapacitated；　then　walked　over　to　Pharaun。　Despite　the　long　skirt　of　its　robe；　there　was　something　noticeably　strange　about　its　gait；　as　if　its　legs　bent　in　too　many　places。　Up　close；　it　exuded　a　faint　stink　not　unlike　rotten　fish。　Its　garments；　once　of　princely　quality；　were　frayed　and　stained。
It　touched　a　finger　to　Pharaun's　brow；　and　they　were　elsewhere。
　
C　h　a　p　t　e　r　　
N　　I　　N　　E　　T　　E　　E　　N
The　Underdark　was　boundless；　its　mysteries　infinite；　and　despite　centuries　of　following　wherever　his　curiosity　led；　Pharaun　had　never　seen　an　illithid　city。　Save　for　a　dearth　of　inhabitants；　he　thought　he'd　just　stepped　into　one。
Artisans　had　carved　the　walls　and　columns　of　the　vault　into　spongiform　masses　like　brain　tissue；　then　covered　the　convolutions　with　lines　of　graven　runes。　Pools　of　warm　fluid　dotted　the　floor。　Redolent　of　salt；　the　ponds　crawled　and　throbbed　with　a　mental　force　that　even　a　nonpsionic　intelligence　dimly　sensed　as　a　whisper　of　alien；　inprehensible　thought　at　the　back　of　the　mind。
Pharaun　recognized　that　the　cavern　was　in　some　sense　an　illusion；　but　that　didn't　make　it　any　less　interesting。　He　would　have　liked　nothing　better　than　to　explore　every　nook　and　cranny。　It　was　an　inclination　rooted　in　a　profound　sense　of　wellbeing；　a　blithe　unconcern　no　more　genuine　than　the　landscape；　but　seductive　all　the　same。　He　would　have　to　fight　it。
He　turned；　saw　Syrzan　standing　a　few　feet　away；　and　cast　darts　of　force；　　a　spell　requiring　only　words　of　power　and　a　flourish　of　the　hands。　Halfway　to　their　target；　the　streaking　shafts　of　azure　radiance　stopped　dead　in　the　air；　fell　to　the　ground；　and　turned　into　limbless　things　like　leeches　or　tadpoles；　which；　squealing　telepathically；　slithered　toward　the　nearest　pool。
〃Your　spells　won't　work　here；〃　said　Syrzan　in　the　Prophet's　rich；　pelling　tones。
〃I　suspected　as　much；　but　I　had　to　try。　Are　we　inside　your　mind？〃
〃More　or　less。〃
Syrzan　strolled　closer。　Off　to　the　side；　liquid　splashed　and　plopped　as　the　tadpoles　wallowed。
〃We're　conversing　in　my　special　haven；〃　the　undead　mind　flayer　said；　〃but　we're　also　still　in　the　heretic's　chapel。　In　that　reality　I'm　rebuking　Houndaer　for　fetching　you　after　I　told　him　it　was　dangerous；　and　you're　insensible。〃
〃Fascinating；〃　Pharaun　said；　〃and　I　suppose　you　spirited　me　into　the　dream　for　a　private　teteatete。〃
〃Essentially；〃　the　alhoon　said。　Even　in