ges-tured repeatedly at Tier Breche.
Glancing up, Gromph could see the illichid's tentacles ripple as it shook its head. The gray dwarf, who obviously thought he was ad-dressing another duergar, pointed at the sphere.
With a suddenness that surprised Gromph, the illithid bent over the dwarf. Its four tentacles lashed out, wrapping themselves around the duergar's face. The dwarf flailed with his axe, but the illithid had anticipated that move and countered it with magic. The dwarf's body went suddenly rigid, the axe poised above his head. Tentacles flexed, and the duergar's head split open like a ripe fungus ball. One of the tentacles relaxed, and, while the remaining three held the head in a vicelike grip, it began scooping pinkish gobs of brain into the illithid's mouth. Gromph, sickened by the sight, turned his face away from the glass.
The other duergar turned, shocked looks on their faces. One or two reached for their weapons, took a look at the illithid's blank white eyes, then all of them suddenly relaxed. Gromph could only imagine how easy it was for the illithid to cloud the simple minds of a gang of duergar soldiers. He wondered what the duergar saw when they looked at the illithid - one of their own, most likely - and they were compelled not to think about their dead officer, his broken skull, or his half-eaten brain. One by one, the magic-addled gray dwarves simply went back to what they had been doing.
Finished with its meal, the illithid plucked the axe from the dwarf's hand, then let the body drop.
Now,it said,you will tell me how to enter Sorcere.
Gromph eyed the greataxe. It was obvious that the illithid cared less about the war than it did about personal gain.
You want magic,Gromph sent to the illithid.
Yes,the mind flayer replied.
You want to get inside Sorcere before the duergar do.
The illithid's next thought was more tentative, as if it was admit-ting a guilty secret.
Yes, it said.
Gromph smiled and replied,You want to know if there's a back door into Sorcere, but if you try to get that information from me by force, it will take too long. By the time you find it, the duergar will be inside. You'll be left with whatever scraps they don't destroy or loot for themselves. But I can offer another alternative. Help me to get free of this sphere, and I'll reward you well. I'll willingly give you the magic you crave.
What magic?
In my centuries of experimentation, I have developed powerful spells that other mages and wizards have yet to even imagine.
Gromph felt the tendrils of the illithid's mind-probing magic root even deeper in his mind.
Those spells are no longer in my memory,he told it.They're in my private quarters, in Sorcere. In these.
Gromph let his mind dwell on his office, on the enormous desk that dominated the windowless room. Made of polished bone, it had a number of drawers that opened onto extra-dimensional spaces. The front of each drawer was inlaid with a different skull. Gromph pictured himself sitting in his chair behind the desk and reaching down to a certain skull, then placing his fingers in its eye sockets. The drawer slid open, revealing a rack that held two bottles. Each was of cast gold, its sides set with a sigil-shaped "window" of moss-green glass, through which came a glow that originated from inside the bottle. Each of the sigils, in the drow script, represented the same word: "remember."
What are they?the illithid asked.
I call them "thought bottles,"Gromph said.Each contains a pow-erful spell - and all of the thoughts that led to its creation. Spells so powerful even I dared not use them, but so unique that, once created, I could not risk losing them, either. In order to avoid temptation, I created these bottles to hold them. Anyone who consumes their con-tentswill gain not only the spell itself but every stage of the process that led to its creation.
Once I am inside Sorcere, I will take them,the illithid said.
Not unless you free me, first,Gromph said.The drawer will only open to my touch.
The archmage let his mind dwell on an experiment he'd conducted back when he'd first constructed and ensorcelled the desk. He'd deliberately left the door to his office lightly warded, then observed with clairvoyant magic as an apprentice forced his way into the of-fice and tried to open the desk. No sooner had the drow placed his fingers inside the eye sockets than he stiffened and tried to scream. No more than a hoarse croak came