imself。
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； 〃Where？〃
Tsabrak led them toward the tiers of seats on the right。 The noble nonotticed for the first time that a space separated the sculpted calcite risers and the wall。
Elsewhere in the castle； one hunter shouted to another。
Relax； thought Houndaer。 It's my kill。
He held his breath as he and his underlings…for that they were； even if they； by virtue of belonging to the conspiracy； imagined otherwise… peeked around the edge of the steps。 Master Argith was sitting cross…legged a few yards down the aisle。
The Tuin'Tarl instantly pointed his crossbow。 Indeed； he nearly pulled the trigger before he took in all the details of the scene。 His former teacher sat motionless； his eyes shut。 To all appearances； he was unconscious； or in any case oblivious to the advent of his foes。 Master Mizzrym was nowhere to be seen。
Ryld's passivity left Houndaer unsure as to the best course of action。
Should he and his minions summarily dispatch the spy or seize the opnotportunity to take him prisoner？ If the weapons master was dead； he couldn't tell them what had bee of his partner。
Then the noble realized that while he'd stood pondering the matter； Tsabrak had drawn back his bow string and sighted down the arrow。 Houndaer lifted a hand to signal him to desist； then thought better of it。 Master Argith was a superb warrior even by the standards of Melee…Magthere。 That was why； when a student； the Tuin'Tarl had admired him so； and had been so eager to recruit him。 Perhaps it would be wiser to kill him while they had the chance。
Besides； Houndaer was reluctant to risk the vexation of giving Tsabrak an order and having it ignored。
He lifted his hand crossbow。 He and the drider took their time aiming； and why not？ Ryld was still unaware of them。
Tsabrak released the string； and Houndaer pulled the trigger。 The shafts leaped at the still…motionless weapons master。 The noble had no doubt the two missiles would suffice。 They were flying true； and the heads were poinotsoned。 It was strange and vaguely unsatisfying to dispatch a master of war so easily； as if it was vengeance on the cheap。
Then； when surely it was too late to react； Ryld moved。 He twitched himself out of the way of the crossbow quarrel and caught the hurtling arrow in his hand。
Swiftly； yet somehow without the appearance of haste； the weapons master flowed to his feet and advanced。 His bloody thigh didn't hinder him in the slightest。 His face and eyes were empty； like those of a medium awaiting munion with the dead。
His voice pitched deep； Omraeth sang a quick rhymed couplet。 Power glittered through the air。 Evidently the spell was supposed to afflict Ryld； but as far as Houndaer could observe； it didn't。 The huge male just kept ing。 Tsabrak loosed another arrow； and the teacher slapped it out of the air with his broadsword。
Tsabrak and Houndaer dropped their bows and drew their swords。 The drider spat poison on his blade。 They'd engage Ryld while he was still in the cramped space behind the seats with no room to maneuver。 Omraeth took up a position behind his rades； where he could augment their efnotforts with bardic magic。
Houndaer felt a pang of fright and willed the feeling away。 He had nothing to fear。 It was three against one； wasn't it； and the one had no mail。 Indeed； by the look of him； he might not even have any wits。
Except that then he proved he did。 Ryld touched the vertical surface that was the back of the steps。 He summoned darkness； blinding his foes。
Houndaer hacked madly； and sensed Tsabrak doing the same。 Darkness or no； when the spy lunged forward； they'd cut him to pieces。 Their swords split nothing but air。
After a few seconds； Omraeth shouted； 〃e back this way！ Now！〃
Houndaer and Tsabrak turned and blundered their way toward the sound of their rade's voice。 The drider's envenomed sword bumped the Tuin'TarPs arm； but fortunately without sufficient force to penetrate his armor and piwafwi。
When Houndaer stumbled out of the murk； Master Argith was in the center of the salle。 Under the cover of darkness； he'd made it to the top of the steps and