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cacophony exploded out of the air。 An instant later； a horde of undercreatures…ores； mostly； with a sprinkling of long…armed goblins…came charging out of the stands of stalls and kiosks to the east。
Blundyth's neighbors gaped in utter astonishment。 For some； the instant of consternation was fatal。 The undercreatures swarmed over them like ants harvesting the carcass of a mouse。
Some of the remaining merchants bolted。 Others shot their hand crossnotbows； or conjured flashes of magic。 One optimist sought to cow the rebels with threats； invective； and mands until a scrofulous ore； slopping the liquid out of a tin bucket； threw some of Syrzan's liquid fire on him。 The incendiary ignited flesh as easily as stone。
His great blanket of zpiwafivi flapping around him； Pharaun ran。 Each amplified stride bounced him off the ground； but thanks to the virtues of the magic boots； he always landed softly。
A pair of ores glared at him and hefted their spears。 He whispered an innotcantation； and a ragged blackness； the essence of death itself； danced among the undercreatures。 They collapsed； already rotting。
For the moment at least； Pharaun was in the clear。 He raced on； while all around him； his city went down in blood and fire。
〃You must know some song； some magic； to track an enemy；〃 Houndaer said。
〃If I did； I'd be singing it；〃 Omraeth said curtly。 〃Now be quiet。 If the masters hear us ing； they'll do their best to evade us。〃
〃He's right；〃 said Tsabrak； scuttling along on his eight segmented legs。 〃Shut up； or we'll never get this done。〃
Houndaer was wearing Ryld Argith's greatsword strapped across his back； and for an instant he fairly quivered with the urge to try it out on his panions。 He wasn't used to such insolence； not from other males； and certainly not from a degraded creature like a drider。
Yet he restrained himself； because he needed them。 He prayed he'd be the one to catch up with the fugitives； who'd made him look a fool in the eyes of the other renegades； but he knew he couldn't kill both of them by himself。
Tsabrak raised his hand and whispered； 〃Wait！〃
〃What is it？〃 Houndaer asked。
Instead of replying； the half…spider started taking deep breaths。 His nosnottrils flared。 He turned this way and that； then crouched down to sniff along the floor。 His front legs bent； and his arachnid lower body tilted like a tray to bring his dark elf head down。
〃Did you pick up the scent？〃 Houndaer asked。
He felt an upswelling of excitement； and made a conscious effort to quell it。 He didn't doubt that Tsabrak smelled something pertinent； but over the course of the last hour； the brute； whose metamorphosis had evinotdently altered his perceptions； had picked up the trail several times only to lose it again。
〃Follow me；〃 said Tsabrak； nocking an arrow。
The drider led his panions to the arched entrance to a training hall； where target mannequins stood in shrouds of spiderweb and a tally board hung on the left…hand wall。 Over the years； the chalk had lost most of its phosphorescence； but Houndaer could still read the score of a fencing bout in faintly gleaming ciphers。
Peer as he might； however； he could see no sign of Masters Argith and Mizzrym。 He gave Tsabrak a questioning and somewhat impatient glance。 The drider responded by pointing at the floor。
When a proud noble family had held the castle； a workman in their employ had painted the floor with pistes and dueling circles。 Like the chalk； the magical enamel still radiated a trace of light。 At one spot； a spatnotter of blood was occluding it。
Houndaer's pulse ticked faster。 He looked up at the drider and mouthed；