〃Do you think we trust the beast？〃 the Tuin'Tarl sneered。 〃We're not idiots。 It'll serve its purpose； and we'll dispose of it。〃
〃So you intend； but what if Syrzan's already working on subjugating you； so subtly you don't even know it？ What if； when the time es…〃
Houndaer punched his former teacher in the mouth； dashing his head against the calcite wall。
〃Shut up；〃 the noble said。 〃You fooled me once and made me look like an imbecile。 It's not going to happen again。〃
The rogues made their departure。 With his spidery lower body； Tsabrak had to squeeze through the door。 The last one out； the bard gave Ryld a wry smile and a shrug。 The door slammed shut。
Ryld licked the salty taste of blood from his gashed lower lip。
〃Pharaun；〃 he said in a low tone。 〃Are you truly unconscious； or is it a trick？〃
Slumped with the steel harness clamped around his head； the Master of Sorcere didn't respond。 If not for the rise and fall of his chest； Ryld would have feared him dead。
The swordsman tried to go to Pharaun； but his chains were too short。 He undertook an examination of the shackles。 The cuffs fit tightly； and the locks were strong。 The links were heavy； well forged； and anchored senotcurely in the wall。 Ryld had broken free of bonds a time or two in his turnotbulent early years； but without tools or a miracle； he wouldn't be sundering these。
Nor； denied the use of his voice and hands； was Pharaun likely to fare any better。 Still； Ryld suspected the mage was his only hope。 Pharaun was clever。 Perhaps he could think of a workable ploy； if only he was conscious。
〃 Wake upr Ryld roared。 〃Wake up； curse it。 You've got to get us out of here！〃
To add to the din； he beat a length of chain against the wall。
To no avail。 He shouted until his throat was raw； but Pharaun didn't stir。
〃Bleed it！〃 the weapons master swore。
He hunkered down on the floor and tried to work up some saliva to wash away the dryness in his mouth。 As the renegades hadn't bothered to provide a water jug； spit was the best he could do。
〃You have to wake up；〃 he said in a softer voice。 〃Otherwise； they've beaten us； and we've never let anyone do that。 Do you remember when we hunted that cloaker lord？ We found out too late that it had sixty…seven other chasm rays in its raiding party； many more than our little band of third…year students was prepared to confront。 But you said； 'It's all right； it just takes the proper spells to even the odds。' First you conjured a wall of fire 。 。 。〃
Ryld rambled on for hours； talking his throat raw； recounting their shared experiences as they occurred to him。 Perhaps the stories would strike a spark in Pharaun's unconscious mind； and in any case； it was better than just sitting and wondering what life would be like after Syrzan cornotrupted his mind。
Finally the wizard's chin jerked up off his chest。 His eyes were wild； and he tried to cry out。 The bit turned the sound into a strangled gurgle even as it cut into the corners of his mouth。 Beads of blood blossomed from the wounds。
〃It's all right；〃 Ryld said。 〃Whatever the lich did to you； it's over。〃
Pharaun took a deep breath and let it out slowly。 Rationality returned to his eyes。 Ryld got the feeling that if not for the harness； the wizard would have smiled his usual cheery smile。 He nodded to the weapons master； thanking him for the reassurance； then he inspected the sheath constraining his hands。 He bashed it on the floor a few times to see if he could jolt the catches open。 They held with nary a rattle。 He shook his head； sat still for several seconds； then closed his eyes and settled back against the wall； no doubt pondering their plight。
After several minutes； the wizard straightened up。 He started scraping the heel of one boot against the side of the other。
Ryld felt a stir of excitement。 He could only assume his fellow master had a talisman hidden inside the footwear。 It was odd the wizard hadn't renotmembered until then； but perhaps it was a result of the seizure。
Like all drow boots； Pharaun's were high and fit snugly。 By the time it slid off the mage's foot； Ryld was avid with curiosity to see 。 。 。 nothing。 Nothing but trews and a stocking。
Pharaun set to work shoving off the other boot。 Ryld wished he knew what his friend had in mind； but knew it would be pointless to ask。 With his hands concealed； the spellcaster couldn't answer even in the silent drow sign language。
Eventually the second boot slipped free； whereupon Pharaun pushed off his socks。 His bare feet were of a piece with his hands； slender and long； the digits included。
The wizard lifted his right foot； stared at it intently； and started curl