war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第117部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


he　magical　ponents　that　corresponded　to　the　spells　he　had　prepared。　With　every　one　he　filched；　he　felt　a　little　better；　almost　like　a　cripple　regaining　the　use　of　his　legs。
As　he　worked　his　way　across　the　room；　he　spotted　a　pair　of　boots　sitting　atop　a　little　cupboard。　They　were　plainly　special　in　some　way；　for　the　maker　had　tooled　runes　into　the　leather。　Without　his　silver　ring；　Pharaun　lacked　the　ability　to　instantly　discern　what　virtues　they　possessed；　but　playing　a　hunch；　he　decided　to　take　the　time　to　try　them　on。
The　boots　squirmed；　molding　themselves　to　his　feet；　then　quivered　against　his　flesh　like　an　animal　eager　to　run。　He　took　an　experimental　step；　and　the　magical　footwear　kicked　off　on　its　own；　augmenting　the　strength　of　his　legs　and　propelling　him　all　the　way　across　the　shop　in　a　single　bound。
Not　bad；　he　thought。　Not　as　good　as　a　flying　carpet；　but　helpful　nonetheless。
He　took　a　few　more　strides；　getting　the　feel　of　the　boots；　then　headed　out。　Just　as　he　exited　the　shop；　a　howling；　shrieking　cacophony　exploded　out　of　the　air。　An　instant　later；　a　horde　of　undercreatures…ores；　mostly；　with　a　sprinkling　of　long…armed　goblins…came　charging　out　of　the　stands　of　stalls　and　kiosks　to　the　east。
Blundyth's　neighbors　gaped　in　utter　astonishment。　For　some；　the　instant　of　consternation　was　fatal。　The　undercreatures　swarmed　over　them　like　ants　harvesting　the　carcass　of　a　mouse。
Some　of　the　remaining　merchants　bolted。　Others　shot　their　hand　crossnotbows；　or　conjured　flashes　of　magic。　One　optimist　sought　to　cow　the　rebels　with　threats；　invective；　and　mands　until　a　scrofulous　ore；　slopping　the　liquid　out　of　a　tin　bucket；　threw　some　of　Syrzan's　liquid　fire　on　him。　The　incendiary　ignited　flesh　as　easily　as　stone。
His　great　blanket　of　zpiwafivi　flapping　around　him；　Pharaun　ran。　Each　amplified　stride　bounced　him　off　the　ground；　but　thanks　to　the　virtues　of　the　magic　boots；　he　always　landed　softly。
A　pair　of　ores　glared　at　him　and　hefted　their　spears。　He　whispered　an　innotcantation；　and　a　ragged　blackness；　the　essence　of　death　itself；　danced　among　the　undercreatures。　They　collapsed；　already　rotting。
For　the　moment　at　least；　Pharaun　was　in　the　clear。　He　raced　on；　while　all　around　him；　his　city　went　down　in　blood　and　fire。
〃You　must　know　some　song；　some　magic；　to　track　an　enemy；〃　Houndaer　said。
〃If　I　did；　I'd　be　singing　it；〃　Omraeth　said　curtly。　〃Now　be　quiet。　If　the　masters　hear　us　ing；　they'll　do　their　best　to　evade　us。〃
〃He's　right；〃　said　Tsabrak；　scuttling　along　on　his　eight　segmented　legs。　〃Shut　up；　or　we'll　never　get　this　done。〃
Houndaer　was　wearing　Ryld　Argith's　greatsword　strapped　across　his　back；　and　for　an　instant　he　fairly　quivered　with　the　urge　to　try　it　out　on　his　panions。　He　wasn't　used　to　such　insolence；　not　from　other　males；　and　certainly　not　from　a　degraded　creature　like　a　drider。
Yet　he　restrained　himself；　because　he　needed　them。　He　prayed　he'd　be　the　one　to　catch　up　with　the　fugitives；　who'd　made　him　look　a　fool　in　the　eyes　of　the　other　renegades；　but　he　knew　he　couldn't　kill　both　of　them　by　himself。
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　aisl