Extinction

Nimor stepped off the ledge, levitating down to where Gromph stood.

Gromph withdrew his hand from his pocket, abandoning the spell he'd been about to cast. There was no time for true seeing, he had to be ready to mount a magical defense if one was required.

"Where did you get that, soldier?" Nimor demanded as he landed lightly on the floor next to Gromph.

Gromph smiled to himself. The illusion was holding.

"From Sluuguth," he answered, holding up the jade spider amulet.

At the same time he reached into a pocket and carefully grasped the item it contained?the prism?by the end that protruded from the oiled sheath he'd constructed for it. He'd made some magical alterations to the prism before embarking on his quest to find Nimor, weaving new spells into the magic the device already contained.

"Sluuguth got busy and couldn't bring the amulet himself, so he sent me," Gromph continued.

Nimor started to reach for the silver chain, then stopped.

He eyed Gromph warily and asked, "Busy with what?"

"That wizard that Lord Dyrr captured?the one from House Baenre. He escaped from the sphere."

"Gromph?" Nimor waved a hand dismissively. "Old news. Gromph's dead now."

Gromph shook his head vigorously and said, "No, he's not.

Sluuguth says he's up to something that could hurt our army. . some spell."

"Where is he?" Nimor demanded.

Gromph scratched the bristles on the top of his head and frowned. Fortunately he didn't need any help looking stupid with the illusion of a tanarukk cloaking him.

"Who? Sluuguth … or Gromph?"

Nimor's eyes narrowed in irritation, and he said, "Gromph."

"Oh. . yeah. Sluuguth said to show you this," Gromph answered, as if just remembering.

As he spoke, he slid his hand from his pocket. The prism he held came out of its oiled sheath with a jerk and emerged from the pocket without any of the sovereign glue that coated it sticking to the fabric.

So far, Gromph thought, so good.

Nimor glanced at the prism.

"What's that?" he asked.

Gromph's gamble was still holding up. Like most drow, Nimor was unfamiliar with the magical items of the World Above.

"It's a scrying device," he told Nimor. "You can see Gromph in it."

Nimor folded his arms across his chest and said, "You look into it. Tell me where he is."

"All right," Gromph said with a shrug.

Again, all was going according to plan. He'd factored the drow's suspicious nature into his plans. He stared into the prism, angling it this way and that.

"Can't see anything," he said. Then he suddenly held it still. "Oh, there he is … but is Gromph the skeleton or the drow with the rat on his shoulder?"

Nimor reached for the prism and said, "Let me see that."

The moment had come. As Nimor's fingers touched the prism, Gromph let go of the end he held and dropped his illusion, revealing himself.

At the same time, he shouted, "Andzrel! Now!"

Behind him, Gromph heard a thud and a grunt?the sound of the duergar guarding the door being felled by Andzrel's weapon. An instant later, as a wide-eyed Nimor backed away, flicking one hand to try to rid it of the prism that was stuck to it with magical glue and drawing his rapier with the other hand, Andzrel burst into the cavern, battle-axe held high. Unused to his tanarukk form, he swung it awkwardly, but even so his charge looked formidable.

Nimor, seeing that he was cornered, did exactly what Gromph had expected him to. He shadow walked.

But even as Nimor began to slip into the Plane of Shadow, a smirk on his lips, the contingency spell Gromph had woven into the prism was triggered. It, in turn, triggered the prism's tertiary power, causing the prism to flare with a blinding flash of light. For an instant, it was as if the sun of the World Above had been teleported into the cavern, bathing its walls in the most intense light Gromph had ever experienced. Nimor screamed?a howl of anguish and a bellow of rage in one. Then both the light and the sound of Nimor's voice winked out.

Gromph heard the swoosh of a blade through the air and the clang of metal against stone as Andzrel's battle-axe split the air where Nimor had been standing. Unable to see, trying to blink away the aftereffects of the brilliant flash, Gromph patted the air around him with his hands. His outstretched hands encountered only air. Nimor seemed to have completed his «escape» into the Shadow Plane.

"Andzrel!" Gromph called. "Can you see? Where's Nimor?"

Someone moved closer to him. A gnarled hand touched his arm.

"I can't see very well." Andzrel's voice came from right next to Gromph. "But my darkvision's starting to come back. Nimor's gone. What about you?"

Gromph's eyes were streaming with tears. He seemed to be having trouble seeing Andzrel?seeing anything.

"I'm. . still blind. That flash of light seems to have had a greater effect on me than it did you?perhaps because the magic protecting Nimor recognized the spell inside the prism as mine and turned it back on me directly. No matter. It should be a simple matter to restore my sight,"

Gromph touched a finger to each eye and cast a spell that should have dispelled his blindness?but though he felt the tingle of magic under his eyelids, his darkvision did not return. He was as unable to see in the dark cavern as any creature from the Surface Realms.

And that worried him. With Lolth's priestesses unable to contact their goddess, finding a restorative spell would be difficult.

"So where is Nimor now?" Andzrel asked.

"In the Plane of Shadow," Gromph answered. "And you know what that means."

"Actually, no, I don't," Andzrel answered. "My apologies, Archmage."

Gromph chuckled and said, "It means he's stuck there. In order to complete his shadow walk, Nimor needs either a patch of shadow?if you're in the World Above?or darkness to step into. A deep patch of darkness. That's something he isn't going to find any time soon, with a prism stuck to his hand that glows with the light of the sun."

"Well that's one piece gone from the sava game," Andzrel said in a satisfied voice. "What's next?"

"Back to Menzoberranzan," Gromph said. "You lead, and I'll follow."

Gromph stood at the base of Narbondel, one hand on the natural pillar's cold stone. It loomed large in Kyorli's eyes. The rat peered up at the darkened pillar from her perch on Gromph's shoulder, whiskers tickling his ear. Behind him, Gromph could hear Nauzhror muttering to himself. The younger wizard had relinquished the archmage's robes to Gromph with great reluctance and had insisted on being present at the lighting ritual. Like a spider, he sensed that Gromph had a weakness?even though he hadn't discovered what it was yet.

Turning to face the pillar, Gromph lifted both hands above his head. As he chanted the words to his spell he felt a familiar, tingling rush of power flow into his hands. When the magic reached its zenith, he slapped both of them against Narbondel, directing the magic into it. The cold stone warmed under his palms and a faint crackling filled the air. Like flames climbing a burning curtain, the magical heat and light slowly began to rise through Narbondel. Gromph couldn't see it with his own eyes, but through Kyorli's he saw a muted version of it, a circle of light emitting sparks of every color from deepest red to brightest purple, rising slowly against black stone. A beautiful sight?and one that would inspire hope in those who yet held the enemy at bay in the Dark Dominion, when they returned from the tu

By memory, Gromph turned in the direction of House Agrach Dyrr.

"Can you see that, lichdrow?" he whispered. "I've escaped your imprisonment. Soon, I'll be coming for you."

Later, Gromph sat in his private office in Sorcere, drumming his fingers on the desk in front of him. Kyorli sat on his shoulder; Gromph still needed the rat's eyes in order to see. He had consumed a potion that should have restored his eyesight fully, but all he could see was a series of shadows and blurs. Had it been a combination of his own permanency spell and the magic that protected Nimor that had wreaked such destruction? With time and research, he would know the answers?but with two armies still hovering on the outskirts of Menzoberranzan, time was a luxury he didn't have.