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slid between Tsabrak's legs； breaking away from the drider and Houndaer； too； leaped up； and charged Syrzan。 He recognized the alhoon as the most dangerous of his foes； even though the illithilich hadn't atnottacked him yet。
Syrzan reached into a pocket and produced a small ceramic vial。 When it swung the bottle from right to left； a dozen orbs of bright flame matenotrialized in its wake。 They shot at Ryld in one straight line and exploded one after the other； banging rapidly like some hellish drum roll。
The glare was dazzling。 For a moment； Pharaun couldn't see anything； and he made out Ryld through floating blobs of afterimage。 His friend apnotpeared unscathed。 He was still charging and almost in sword's reach of the alhoon。
Syrzan used its mind flayer talents。 Even though the lich hadn't directed the attack at him； Pharaun felt the fringe of it。 It was like a sprinkle of hot ash burning his brain。 Ryld dropped。
Syrzan gazed down at the warrior for a moment； evidently making sure he was truly incapacitated； then walked over to Pharaun。 Despite the long skirt of its robe； there was something noticeably strange about its gait； as if its legs bent in too many places。 Up close； it exuded a faint stink not unlike rotten fish。 Its garments； once of princely quality； were frayed and stained。
It touched a finger to Pharaun's brow； and they were elsewhere。
C h a p t e r
N I N E T E E N
The Underdark was boundless； its mysteries infinite； and despite centuries of following wherever his curiosity led； Pharaun had never seen an illithid city。 Save for a dearth of inhabitants； he thought he'd just stepped into one。
Artisans had carved the walls and columns of the vault into spongiform masses like brain tissue； then covered the convolutions with lines of graven runes。 Pools of warm fluid dotted the floor。 Redolent of salt； the ponds crawled and throbbed with a mental force that even a non…psionic intellinotgence dimly sensed as a whisper of alien； inprehensible thought at the back of the mind。
Pharaun recognized that the cavern was in some sense an illusion； but that didn't make it any less interesting。 He would have liked nothing better than to explore every nook and cranny。 It was an inclination rooted in a profound sense of well…being； a blithe unconcern no more genuine than the landscape； but seductive all the same。 He would have to fight it。
He turned； saw Syrzan standing a few feet away； and cast darts of force； a spell requiring only words of power and a flourish of the hands。 Halfway to their target； the streaking shafts of azure radiance stopped dead in the air； fell to the ground； and turned into limbless things like leeches or tadnotpoles； which； squealing telepathically； slithered toward the nearest pool。
〃Your spells won't work here；〃 said Syrzan in the Prophet's rich； notpelling tones。
〃I suspected as much； but I had to try。 Are we inside your mind？〃
〃More or less。〃
Syrzan strolled closer。 Off to the side； liquid splashed and plopped as the tadpoles wallowed。
〃We're conversing in my special haven；〃 the undead mind flayer said； 〃but we're