F O U R (2 page)

He was drinking his adversary',  and he cried out at the shocking pleasure of it.s very life, much as a vampire miThe flying creature buzzed, thrashed, and  became still. It withered, cracked, and ght have done. rotted in his grasp. Finally, when he was  certain he'd  sucked out every vestige of life, he shoved it away

.

Focusing his will, he arrested his fall  and drifted upward again. After a few migrabbed a convenient handrail, pulled himnutes, he spied the opening at the top of the shaft. He floated through, self over onto the floor of the workroom, then allowed his weight to  return. His vestments rustled as they settled around him.

The large circular chamber was in most respects a part of the tower of

Sorcere—the school of wizardry over  which the ArchmaGromph was reasonably certain that none of  the m      ge presided—but aexistence, accustomed to secret and m      sters of Sorcere suspected its agical architecture though they were. The place, lit by everlasting candles like the office belowundetectable, even unguessable, because its tenant had set it a little apart from,  was well nigh normal space and conventional time. In somedistant past, in the days of Menzoberranzan the Kinless, subtle respects it existed in the in another way                   founder of the city, and

,  in the remote and unknowable future. Yet on the level of gross

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clandestine magic there secure in mortal existence, it sat firmly in the present, and the knowledge that it would afGromph could work his most fect the Menzoberranzan of today

.  It was a neat tr

killing the seven prisoners, master mages  ick, and sometimes he almost regretted in exchange, they im          all, who had helped him build the place

there was no point in creating a hidden reagined, for their freedom. They  had been genuine artists, but hidden.               fuge unless one ensured it would remain

Gromph moved to the section Dusting a few specks and smears of the of the room containing anflying vermin from his nimble hands, extensive collection of wizard's tools. Humming, he selected  a spiral-carved ebony staff from a

wyvern's-foot stand, an onyx-studded iron amulet from its wickedly curved athame from a rack of similar ritual knives. He snifvelvet-lined box, and a fed several

black lotus.ceramic pots of incense before finally selecting, as he often did, the essence of

As he murmured an invocation to  the Abyssal powers and lit a brazen censor

with the tame little flame he could conjure  at will, he hesitated. Tohe found himself wondering if he  truly wanted to proceed.       his surprise,

hadn'Menzoberranzan was in desperate straits, even though most of her citizens

situation as an unparalleled opportunityt yet realized it. In Gromph's place, many another wizard would embrace the to enhance his own power,  but the Archmage saw deeper

recent years. Another upheaval could crippl. The city had experienced too many shocks and setbacks in t fancy life in a Menzoberranzan that was   e or even destroy it, and he didn'

glory                merely a broken mockery of its former .  Nor did he see himself as a  homeless wanderer begging sanctuary and employment from the indiff

eren

to correct the current problem, not exploit it.t rulers of some foreign realm. He had resolved Except I am about to exploit it in at least a limited way

,  aren't

Give in to temptation and seize the              I? He thought. destabilizes the alrea          advantage, even if so doing further

Gromph snorted his momentdy precarious status quo.ary and uncharacteristic  misgivings away. The

perversitydrow were children of chaos—of paradox,. It was the source of their stre    contradiction, and perhaps even two opposite directions at the same time? When would he get another chance to ngth. So yes, curse it, why not walk in

so alter his circumstances?

floor and traced the tip of the black stafHe moved to one of the complex pentacles inlaid in gold on the marble it. That done, he swept the athame in ritual passes and chanted a rhyme that f along its curves and angles, sealing

returned to its own beginning like a serpent swallowing its tail. The cloying sweetness of black lotus hung in the air

lifting his consciousness into a state of almost painful concentration and , and he could feel the narcotic vapors lucidity

.

He lost all track of time, had no idea whether he'dminutes or an hour, but the moment finally came when he' been reciting for ten d

enough. The nether spirit Beradax appeared in the center of the pentacle, recited long seeming to jerk up out of the floor like a fish at the end of an angler'

s  line.

His centuries of wizardry had rendered Gromph about as indifferent to ugliness and grotesquerie as a member of  his callous race could get, yet even

proximate shape of a dark elf female he found Beradax an unpleasant spectacle. The creature wore the ap-body was made of soft, wet, glistening eyeballs adhering togetheror perhaps a human woman, but her . About half

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of them had the crimson irises characteristic of the drow

blue, brown, green, gray—a miscellalesser races.             ny of the colors commonly found in , while the rest were

Her body flowing, her shape warping, Beradax flung herself at her

summoner.  Fortunately, she couldn't pass beyond the edge of the pentacle.

bounded.She slammed into an unseen barrier with a wet, slapping sound, then reresentment and malice infinite, she woulUndeterred, she lunged a second time with the same lack of success. Her own devices. Gromph had caught her  d spring a million times if left to her

needed if they were to converse. He shoved the ritual dagger into his belly,  trapped her,  but something more was .

shuddered. A few fell away from the central mass to fade and vanish in the Beradax reeled. The eyeballs comprising her own stomach churned and air

.

''Kill you.
 
1
 
" she screamed, her shrill voice unnaturally loud, her gaping

mouth affording a shadowy glimpse of the eyeball bumps lining the interior.

"I'll kill you, wizard!"

incense had parched his throat, and he swallowed the dryness away"No, slave, you will not," Gromph said. He realized the chanting and . "You'll

serve me . You'll calm

blade."         yourself and submit,  unless you want another taste of the

Beradax sprang at him again and kept sp"Kill you!"              ringing while he pulled the athame  back and forth through his abdom

"I subm        en. Finally she collapsed to her knees.

"Good." Gromit," she growled ph extracted the athame. It didn't leave a tear in his robes or in his

flesh, which was to say,  the knife's enchantments had woexpected, hurting the demon rather than him         rked precisely as

.

Beradax's  belly stopped heaving and shaking.

ked. "Information? Tell me

dischar"What do you want, drow?" the creature as            , so I can ge m

"Not informy  errand and depart." ation," the dark elf said. He'd  summ

the past month, and none had been able  to tell himoned scores of nether-spirits over what he wished to know. He was certain Beradax was no wiser than the rest. "I want you to kill m

y  sister Quenthel."

Gromph had hated Quenthel for a long time. She always treated him  like some

retainer

Menzoberranzan, and the city', even though he too was a Baenre, a noble of the First House of sonly high priestesses deserved respect. greatest wizard besides. In her eyes, he thought,

His antipathy only intensified as the two  of them  attempted to advise their mother

Predictably, Matron Mother Baenre, the unc, they'd disagreed on every matter of policy fromrowned queen of Menzoberranzan. trade to war to mining and had vexed one  another no end.

Arach-TGromph's animus intensifieinilith, the school for priestessed still further when Quenthel became Mistress of s. The mistress governed the entire

Academy,  Sorcere included, and thus  Gromph had found himself obliged to

contend with her—indeed, to suffer her  oversight—in this one-time haven as well.

Still, he might have endured Quenthel's arrogance and meddling indefinitelynot for their m                            , if

other's  sudden and unexpected death.

Counseling the former matron mother had  been more an honor  than a treat. She

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enough, she responded to their suggesgenerally ignored advice, and  her deputies were lucky if tions with a torrent of abuse. she let it go at that. Often
But T

riel, Gromph's other sister and

over time, proved to be a diff     the new head of House Baenre, had, ed

by the responsibilities of her new oferent sort of sovereign. Indecisive, overwhelmher siblings.           fice, she relied heavily on the opinions of

That meant the Archmage, though a "mere ma

Menzoberranzan from             le," could theoretically rule

please him       behind the throne, and at long last order all things to self. But only if he disposed of the matron's other counselordam                                , the

nably persuasive Quenthel, who continued to oppose him  on virtually

every matter.  He'd  been contemthe present situation afforded himplating her assassination for a long time, until an irresistible opportunity

.

"You send me  to my  death!" Beradax protested.

"Your life or death are of no importance," Gromph replied, "only my  will

matters. Still, you may survive. Arach-Tinilith has changed, as you know very