answered, "House Baenre, Master."
"Ah." Gromph had never met the lad before - he must have been a child of the lowest of the noble ranks.
Prath wasn't quick-witted - any other student might have used a spell to summon a minor creature into his hand, killed it, and offered Gromph its flesh, instead - but he was loyal. Gromph could use that.
Smearing the blood on the bit of bone, Gromph cast his spell. With a flick of his hand, he hurled it in the direction of the wall that hid the duergar positions.
Then he shouted his command: "Break off your attack. Turn and fight the duergar, instead!"
Spells continued to rain down upon the fungus-stem wall. It took the other mages several moments to realize that the catapults had stopped firing. Then the undead duergar soldiers turned their backs on the wall. With unsteady, mindless motions they trotted into the tunnel that led to the Dark Dominion, weapons in hand. A moment later, the clash of battle echoed out of the tunnel, as they engaged their still-living companions in mortal combat.
Seeing that, the remaining warriors of Melee-Magthere burst out of their pyramid. Rushing forward with swords raised, they clambered over the siege wall and immediately began tearing both it and the catapults apart. Others picked up the stonefire bombs the undead duergar had left behind and heaved them into the tunnel.
Gromph smiled grimly as he watched. Eventually he turned and looked out beyond Tier Breche, at the city below. Despite the toehold the enemy had gained - and lost - in Tier Breche, Menzoberranzan seemed untouched by war. The stalactites and stalagmites of the noble manors still sparkled, and a ring of magi-cal fire was creeping up the great spire of Narbondel. Gromph frowned, wondering which of the wizards of House Baenre had been keeping it going in his absence. It seemed that he was not quite as irreplaceable as he would have liked. He'd have to speak to Triel about that.
Then, after making his report to his matron mother, he would see what he could do to put an end to the siege.
Chapter Nineteen
As a dozen priestesses raised horns to their lips to signal the start of the night's hunt, Halisstra felt a thrill rush through her body. Part of it was a shiver. The wind was picking up, and a few flakes of snow had started to fall. Like the others, she wore nothing save for a heavy silver chain around her waist, hung with the silver disk that bore the symbol of Eilistraee.
Tipping her head back, she raised the hunting horn they'd given her to her lips, staring past it at the moon. She drew a deep breath and blew, adding her horn's strident voice to the others. There was an urgent rush of raw sound as each of the horns found its own note, then held it in perfect harmony with the others. The very air shivered and for several heartbeats was still. Then the wind resumed, stirring the tree branches overhead.
As if the goddess had given her a signal, Halisstra suddenly cut short her note at precisely the same moment that the other women did. She lowered her horn and stared expectantly as the leader of the hunt - Uluyara, the drow who had killed the troll the previous night - drew from the ground the sword they had been dancing around a moment before. Holding it straight out in front of her, the high priestess slowly turned in place.
Like Uluyara, Halisstra's only weapon was a sword, Seyll's long sword. Her hand gripped its hilt tightly, covering all but one of the holes. Through that single hole the wind blew, producing a faint, insistent note.
Feliane, who had stayed close to Halisstra throughout the dance, caught her eye.
"Use it well," she said, nodding at the songsword. The moon elf had dyed her skin black, once again, in preparation for the night's hunt. Too small and innocent looking to ever be taken for a drow at close range - especially with her brown hair - Feliane nonetheless gripped her own sword like someone who knew how to wield it.
"What do we hunt?" Halisstra whispered.
"Whatever monster Eilistraee causes to cross our path," Feliane answered, an enigmatic smile on her lips.
Uluyara began to spin faster. Her sword flashed in the moonlight as she whirled in tight circles: once, twice, three times . . . then she jerked to a halt, her blade quivering.
"This way!" she shouted.
Like a hunting lizard suddenly