war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第83部分

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if　only　monotmentarily；　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；　pepnotpering　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　crossnotbows。　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。　Brannotdishing　it；　he　chanted。　He　felt　the　walls　of　the　cosmos　attenuating；　and　for　a　moment；　sensed　an　infinite　number　of　Pharaun　s　conjuring　in　adjacent　realities；　receding　away　from　him　like　reflections　in　a　mirror；　growing　subtly　less　and　less　like　himself　with　each　step。
A　pulse　of　scarlet　light　struck　him　in　the　chest。　Gelroos　must　have　connotjured　it。　The　blaze　of　pain　was　extraordinary。　Pharaun　strained　to　plete　the　last　word　of　power　and　final　mystic　pass　without　a　fumble。
He　wasn't　sure　he'd　succeeded　until　a　vacancy；　a　gap　not　in　matter　but　in　the　medium　that　underlies　it；　opened　under　the　elemental's　feet。　The　creature　cocked　back　its　arm　to　throw；　and　the　animating　force　fell　out　of　the　body　it　had　created　for　itself　and　down　the　hole。　The　wound　in　the　fabric　of　the　world　contracted　and　sealed　itself。　Rumbling　and　thudding；　the　huge　stone　form　fell　apart。
Pharaun　took　stock　of　himself。　It　didn't　look　as　if　the　red　light　had　done　more　than　scrape　and　prick　his　skin。　He　grinned　down　at　Gelroos。
〃Not　quite；　colleague。〃
〃This　time；〃　the　younger　wizard　said　through　gritted　teeth。
He　started　casting；　and　Pharaun　did　the　same。
Force　crackled　around　the　outcast　Mizzrym　but　failed　to　bite　into　his　flesh。　His　own　magic；　launched　from　the　same　round　little　mirror　he　used　to　check　his　appearance；　made　the　air　surrounding　Gelroos　tinkle　like　chiming　crystals。　The　junior　wizard　screamed；　and　in　the　blink　of　an　eye　he　was　transformed　into　an　inert　figure　made　of　cool；　smooth　glass。
Metal　rang　below　Pharaun's　feet。　He　looked　down。　Ryld　appeared　as　if　he　might　be　having　a　difficult　time　of　it；　but　a　conjured　barrage　of　ice；　flung　into　the　midst　of　the　surviving　students；　turned　the　tide。　Ryld　cut　down　his　fellow　Master　of　Melee…Magthere；　whirled　to　do　the　same　to　a　young　spearman；　and　the　fight　was　over。
Pharaun　surveyed　the　battlefield。　Though　burned　and　incapacitated；　some　of　the　warriors…in…training　were　still　alive；　but　that　was　all　right。　The　important　thing　had　always　been　to　murder　his　fellow　instructors。　That　was　what　would　impress　the　rogues。
He　floated　back　down　to　earth。　〃That　wasn't　too　difficult。　Looking　back；　it's　a　pity　we　didn't　slaughter　Greyanna　and　her　allies　in　the　same　fashion。〃
Ryld　grunted；　pulled　up　the　hem　of　a　fallen　fighter's　cloak；　and　wiped　the　blood　from　Splitter。
〃Can　you　shatter　Gelroos　before　we　decamp？〃　Pharaun　asked。　〃Othernotwise；　he'll　eventually　revert　to　flesh　and　blood。〃
〃If　you　like。〃　Ryld　hefted　his　blade。


C　h　a　p　t　e　r

F　I　F　T　E　E　N
Wrapped　in　a　plain；　dark　piwafwi；　the　cowl　drawn　over　her　head；　Quenthel　tramped　south　across　the　city。　The　experience　was　strange；　unique　in　her　personal　experience。　She　was　on　foot；　not　mounted　on　a　lizard　or　enthroned　on　a　floating　stone　disk。　She　was　alone；　not　acpanied　by　a　column　of　guards　and　servants；　and　most　strangely　of　all；　no　one　paid　her　any　real　attention。　Oh；　slaves　scurried　out　of　her　path；　and　males　ofnotfered　her　a　cursory　show　of　respect；　but　no　one　feared　her　or　cringed　in　awe　of　her。　Indeed；　she　herself　had　to　offer　obeisance　to　the　noble　fenotmales　she　encountered　along　the　way；　lest　their　soldiers　chastise　her　for　insolence。
It　was　galling；　unsettling；　and　somehow　tempting　as　well。　In　her　most　private　thoughts；　she'd　imagined　herself　simply　running　away　from　the　imnotplacable　foe　who　worked　so　assiduously　to　kill　her。　It　might　be　the　only　way　she　could　survive。　If　she　opted　to　flee　this　minute；　she　was　already　off　to　a　good　start。　She'd　managed　to　slip　away　from　Tier　Breche　with　no　one；　she　hoped；　the　wiser。
Flight　was　a　cowardly　notion；　though；　unworthy　of　a　Baenre；　and　it　annotgered　her　when　she　entertained　it　even　for　a　moment。　Until　the　attacks　began；　she　never　had　before。　She　turned　a　co