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〃Yes；　Mistress；〃　said　Quave。　〃1　assume　you'll　do　the　cutting　yourself。〃
〃I'd　like　to；〃　said　the　Baenre；　〃but　there's　another　matter　demanding　my　attention。　You　can　do　it。　Enjoy　yourself。　Just　mind　she　doesn't　die　of　it。　They　can　drown　in　their　own　blood　when　you　take　the　tongue。〃
Pharaun　relaxed　in　the　chair；　enjoying　the　feel　of　the　barber's　fingers　kneading　tonic　into　his　scalp。　It　wasn't　as　relaxing　as　a　fullbody　massage；　but　soothing　nonetheless。
The　barber　chattered　away；　and　the　wizard　periodically　responded　with　a　nonmittal；　〃Indeed；〃　or　a　grunt。　Like；　he　suspected；　tonsorial　customers　of　all　races　in　all　ages　of　the　world；　he　wasn't　actually　listening。
The　barber's　stall；　a　little　box　redolent　of　unguents　and　pomades；　was　open　at　the　front；　and　it　was　more　interesting　to　gaze　out　at　the　sights　of　the　Bazaar。　A　moner　strode　by　carrying　a　clucking　chicken；　imported　from　the　Lands　of　Light；　in　a　box。　A　merchant　had　probably　promised　the　fellow　the　fowl　would　lay　for　years　to　e；　though　in　reality；　such　birds　rarely　thrived　in　the　Underdark。　A　portrait　painter　rendered　his　subject；　the　enchantments　in　the　brush　enabling　him　to　fill　the　canvas　with　astonishing　speed。　An　armorer　drove　a　rapier　through　a　bound；　gagged　kobold　to　demonstrate　the　sharpness　of　the　point。
Cowl　up；　mantle　drawn　close　around　him；　and　Splitter　hidden　by　the　charm　of　concealment　Pharaun　had　cast　on　it；　Ryld　loitered　across　the　way　in　a　tent　with　the　sides　folded　up。　There；　games　of　all　sorts　were　on　display。　The　hulking　swordsman　stood　pondering　a　sava　board；　where　he'd　set　up　a　problem　with　the　onyx　and　carnelian　pieces。
A　change　came　over　the　scene　beyond　the　doorway；　and　people　looked　to　the　north。　Some　started　to　squeeze　up　against　the　stalls；　clearing　the　center　of　the　lane。　A　ragged；　furtivelooking　moner　hurried　away　in　the　opposite　direction。
Ryld　sauntered　to　the　near　edge　of　the　tent；　glanced　where　everyone　else　was　peering；　then　gave　Pharaun　a　subtle　nod；　confirming　what　the　wizard　had　already　guessed。　A　patrol　was　headed　their　way。
Pharaun　wished　the　guards　could　have　waited　just　five　more　minutes；　but　alas；　he　would　have　to　go　to　work　before　the　barber　finished　with　him。　A　tragedy；　but　it　couldn't　be　helped。
A　moment　later　the　patrol　marched　by；　casting　stern　glances　hither　and　yon；　their　tread　silent　thanks　to　their　enchanted　boots。　In　at　least　nominal　mand　was　a　priestess　of　ArachTinilith　armed　with　a　polished　wooden　wand。　Assisting　her　were　a　teacher　from　MeleeMagthere　and　Gelroos　Zaphresz；　one　of　Pharaun's　junior　colleagues　in　Sorcere。　It　was　unfortunate。　Possessed　of　a　store　of　jokes　and　ical　ditties；　Gelroos　was　congenial　pany。　At　least　if　Pharaun　murdered　the　other　mage　today；　he　wouldn't　have　to　worry　about　Gelroos　trying　to　assassinate　him　tomorrow。
In　addition　to　its　officers；　the　patrol　consisted　of　a　number　of　warriorsintraining；　boys　whom　Ryld　had　almost　certainly　instructed　at　one　time　or　another。　Pharaun　wasn't　particularly　worried　about　them。　His　fellow　teachers　were　the　real　threat。
The　Master　of　Sorcere　waited　until　the　guards　had　marched　past　then；　surprising　the　barber；　he　tossed　aside　the　hairsprinkled　cloth　covering　his　chest；　stood　up；　and　handed　the　craftsman　a　gold　coin；　a　princely　overpayment　for　his　services。　He　touched　a　finger　to　his　lips　in　wordless　explanation　of　what　he　actually　wanted　to　buy。　He　picked　up　his　piwafwi；　whose　elegance　he'd　obscured　with　a　minor　illusion；　swirled　it　around　his　shoulders；　walked　to　the　doorway　of　the　stall；　and　peeked　out。
The　patrol　had　tramped　about　twenty　yards　down　the　lane。　Any　farther　and　they'd　turn　a　corner；　so　Pharaun　had　attained　as　much　separation　from　the　enemy　as　he　was　going　to　get。　He　draped　a　fold　of　silk　across　the　lower　half　of　his　face；　then　stepped　out　into　the　open；　brandished　a　glass　marble　and　a　pinch　of　rust；　and　recited　an　incantation。　His　halfbarbered　hair　stood　on　end；　and　the　air　around　him　smelled　of　ozone。　A　crackling　bluewhite　spark　appeared　in　the　air　before　him；　then　shot　down　the　aisle。
When　it　reached　the　patrol；　the　flickering　point　of　radiance　exploded；　shooting　flares　of　lightning　in　all　directions。　Many　of　the　callow　young　soldiers　danced；　burned；　and　fell；　as　they　possessed　neither　the　spiritual　strength　nor　the　protective　talismans　that　might　have　minimized　their　injuries　and　kept　them　on　their　feet。　Unfortunately；　the　sizzling；　jumping　arcs　of　power　struck　a　handful　of　vendors　and　shoppers　as　well。　Pharaun　hadn't　particularly　wanted　to　harm　nonbatants；　but　the　aisle　was　simply　too　cramped。
The　rest　of　the　patrol　began　to　pivot。　The　captain　from　MeleeMagthere　was　smoking；　blackened；　and　blistered；　but　if　he　was　anything　like　Ryld；　his　burns　weren't　likely　to　slow　him　down。　Gelroos　and　the　priestess　looked　as　if　the　lightning　hadn't　even　touched　them。　The　female　was　spinning　around　a　hair　faster　than　the　other　two；　raising　her　baton。　Thanks　to　his　silver　ring；　Pharaun　could　tell　it　was　a　spider　wand；　a　weapon　capable　of　entangling　him　in　sticky　webbing。
He　had　no　intention　of　enduring　that　kind　of　humiliation。　He　rattled　off　a　string　of　magic　words　and　thrust　his　arm　out。　Five　slivers　of　arcane　force　leaped　from　his　fingertips；　hurtled　across　the　intervening　space；　and　slammed　into　the　cleric's　torso。　She　stumbled　backward　and　collapsed。
A　wiry　male　with　deepset　eyes；　and　a　trace　of　a　scholar's　stoop；　Gelroos　peered　up　the　street　and　called；　〃Master　Mizzrym〃
〃So　much　for　my　ability　to　manufacture　a　nonmagical　disguise；〃　Pharaun　answered；　grinning；　〃but　then　we　do　know　one　another　fairly　well。〃
〃You're　allowed　to　try　to　kill　another　Master　of　Sorcere；〃　said　Gelroos。　〃That's　entirely　proper。　But　you　overstepped　when　you　struck　down　these　youths。　It　was　pointless　and　sloppy；　and　their　mothers　won't　appreciate　the　waste。　They'll　reward　me　for　taking　you　down。〃
〃Does　it　help　if　I　explain　that　all　I　do；　I　do　to　deliver　Menzoberranzan　from　twin　calamities？〃　Pharaun　asked。
Gelroos　raised　his　hands；　preparing　to　conjure；　and　the　remaining　warriors　charged。
〃Ah。　I　thought　not。〃
He　too　began　to　cast。
Gelroos　pleted　his　spell　a　moment　before　Pharaun　finished　his。　Crashing　and　crunching；　the　surface　of　the　lane　spat　stone　in　the　air。　It　was　like　a　geyser；　save　for　the　fact　that　the　chunks　of　rock　didn't　fall　back　to　earth。　Instead；　they　shifted　around　one　another　and　fitted　together；　forming　a　towering；　massive；　and　vaguely　drowlike　form；　like　a　heroic　statue　abandoned　when　the　sculptor　had　barely　begun。　Its　footsteps　shaking　the　ground；　the　creature　lurched　up　the　corridor　between　the　stalls。
Pharaun　was　mildly　impressed。　It　wasn't　easy　to　summon　and　control　an　essential　spirit　of　the　earth—nor　easy　to　fend　one　off；　either—but　the　manifestation　didn't　shake　his　concentration。　He　continued　his　recitation　without　a　flub；　meanwhile　floating　up　into　the　air　to　avoid；　if　only　momentarily；　the　swords　of　the　onrushing　warriors。
He　spoke　the　final　syllable　of　the　conjuration。　A　dagger　made　of　ice　flew　from　his　hand。　Gelroos　dodged　it；　but　the　conjured　blade　exploded；　peppering　its　target　with　frozen　shards。　One　slashed　open　the　mage's　cheek　and　he　stumbled；　but　Pharaun　could　tell　he　wasn't　seriously　hurt。
Below　the　Mizzrym；　some　of　the　warriors　were　readying　their　crossbows。　Others　began　to　levitate。　By　rushing　him；　they'd　drawn　even　with　the　game　merchant's　tent；　and　Ryld　burst　from　underneath　it。　Half　an　hour　earlier；　he'd　purchased　a　scimitar　to　use　in　this　particular　battle；　but　it　was　Splitter；　rendered　visible　by　his　touch；　that　he　currently　clasped　in　his　hands。　He　must　have　decided　that；　since　Gelroos　had　already　called　out　Pharaun's　name；　it　would　be　pointless　to　try　to　conceal　his　own　identity。
The　greatsword　leaped　back　and　forth；　each　stroke　dropping　a　foe　to　the　ground。　Bellowing　for　his　minions　to　turn　and　face　the　new　threat；　Ryld's　fellow　instructor　tried　to　shove　his　way　toward　him。
Stone；　liquid　as　magma；　flowed　upward　from　the　ground　into　the　elemental's　body。　Most　of　the　rock　served　to　grow　the　creature　bigger　and　taller；　but　some　of　it　accumulated　in　the　palm　of　its　hand；　forming　a　spiky　sphere　that　it　no　doubt　intended　to　hurl　at　Pharaun。
The　wizard　snatched　a　tiny　vial　of　water　from　one　of　his　pockets。　Brandishing