Resurrection

Jeggred and Danifae, he chose his spells with care.

By the time he had finished, both priestesses had closed their eyes and entered Reverie.

Pharaun assumed that both had surreptitiously cast alarm spells around them to warn of anyone approaching too near. He activated the power of his Sorcere ring and saw the soft red glow of a ward spell in the area around both priestesses. He smiled.

For creatures of chaos, he thought, drow certainly were predictable.

Unlike their mistress, Quenthel's whip serpents remained awake and alert. Two of them-

K'Sothra and Yngoth, Pharaun believed-extended outward and kept their eyes on the tu

Qorra, kept her eyes on Pharaun.

Vaguely offended that he warranted only one watch-serpent, Pharaun stuck his tongue out at

Qorra. She flicked her own in answer.

Pharaun ignored it, stretched out his legs, and settled more comfortably on his rock. He was tired but not yet ready to enter Reverie. For a while, he watched the rise and fall of Danifae's breasts. He did not allow himself to fantasize about her overmuch-he knew how well she played male lust to her advantage. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Quenthel disposed of her.

Pharaun finally decided that he too should spend an hour or two in Reverie. But first, he would cast a ward on his person similar to that which the priestesses had cast. It would alert him should any creature get closer than five paces.

Just as he began to whisper the arcane words to the spell, Pharaun felt a familiar tingle in his mind. He recognized it immediately, and a more pronounced tingle coursed through his flesh. He aborted the casting, delighted that the alu-fiend had tracked them down again.

Well met, Master Mizzrym, Aliisza purred, her mental voice like velvet in his brain.

Despite himself, Pharaun gri

Aliisza, my dear, he projected back. We do meet in the strangest locales.

The times are strange, dearest, Aliisza replied. And strange times make for strange bedfellows.

One can only hope, he answered, and gri

Quenthel's watch serpent hissed at his smile. Pharaun let it fade from his face, turned, and looked past the serpent.

Up the forward tu

Quenthel and Danifae both were in Reverie, though both wore scowls. Pharaun was pleased.

He would have only to deal with Quenthel's whip serpents.

The priestesses you accompany rest ill at ease, Aliisza said.

It is a racial trait, he answered, sarcastic as always.

They simply need a little something to tire them out first, she said.

A little something? Pharaun answered, playing at being offended.

Aliisza laughed.

What is the Yor'thae? she asked.

The question gave Pharaun a start, but long practice kept it from his face and his surface thoughts. How did Aliisza know anything of the Yor'thae?

Apparently sensing his agitation, the serpent watching Pharaun uttered a soft hiss. Pharaun pretended not to have heard it and settled more comfortably onto his rock.

How do you know that word? he asked.

She let her mental fingers caress his brain playfully. The Lower Planes resound with it. It's in the wind, the screams of tortured souls, the rush of boiling water. What is it, dear heart?

Pharaun heard none but the usual guile in her tone so he answered her truthfully: The Yor'thae is Lolth's Chosen.

Oooh, Aliisza said. Which is it, the pretty one or the big one with the whip?

Pharaun could only shake his head.

Maybe it's neither, Aliisza said.

To that Pharaun made no comment, though her statement disquieted him. Her words too closely echoed his own recent thoughts. He decided to change the subject.

Where are you? he asked.

I am invisible. Look around and find me, she answered with a mental smile. If you do, you'll win a prize.

With a simple exercise of his will, Pharaun attuned his vision to see invisible objects and creatures-an effect that he had made permanent to his person. Casually, so as not to alarm the whip serpent whose eyes still glared at him, he looked down the tu

Jeggred sat, back the way they had come. There, he saw her.

You win, she said.

Aliisza leaned suggestively against the tu

Greetings, lady, he said. I'll just be a moment.

It is ungentlemanly to make a lady wait, she said, a smile in her voice. You will have to make it up to me.

Again, Aliisza, he answered, one can only hope.

Her giggle managed to sound both girlish and sexually provocative all at once. He found it thrilling. He looked at the serpent that was eyeing him. It flicked its tongue again.

He leaned back on his rock and closed his eyes as though preparing for Reverie. Fortunately,

he knew an illusion that required no material component.

Moving only his fingers and whispering under his breath, he cast a sophisticated glamour. The spell affected the entire area in which he reclined. To the serpent, it would appear that Pharaun remained on his rock deep in Reverie, while the real Pharaun could do whatever he wished in the affected area under cover of the illusion.

After completing the spell, he looked at the serpent-Qorra showed no sign of noticing anything amiss-and climbed silently to his feet. The serpent's gaze remained fixed on the illusion,

on the false Pharaun.

Smiling, Pharaun pulled from his pocket a strip of fleece and whispered the words to a spell that rendered him invisible-a necessary precaution, because when he left the affected area of his spell, the illusionary image would no longer screen him. He knew that Aliisza's demon blood allowed her to see invisible creatures so she would have no problem seeing him.

In his mind, Aliisza giggled again, and the sound sent a charge through him. Strange that the presence of a demon, albeit a beautiful one, brought him such pleasure.

Clever, dearest, she said.

He started quietly down the tu

My, but you look horrid! she said as he drew near.

He knew. He had been through the Shadow Deep, the Abyss, and the Demonweb Pits, all without bathing. He had used cantrips to mitigate his stink and keep his clothes mended, but the minor spells could do only so much.

The journey has been a hard one, he replied. Perhaps you would enjoy an illusory Pharaun more? He jerked his thumb back up the corridor.

No, dearest, she said and stretched languidly, to show her body to best effect. Her green eyes danced over him suggestively. She held out her arms. I'll take the real thing.

The moment he got within arm's reach, he took her in his arms. Her wings unfurled and enfolded them, her perfume intoxicated him, and her skin and curves stirred him. He allowed himself a moment of pleasure, greedily ran his hands over the smooth skin of her body, then-with great effort-pushed her to arm's length.