we fought our way through a patrol of the prince's soldiers and couldn't leave the pier."
"Fellout of the crown prince's favor, did ye?" Coalhewer said. He stood slowly and offered a fierce grin. From the end of the pier a sudden bright glare of lightning and a booming thunderclap announced the ar-rival of duergar reinforcements. "If ye kill me, ye'll never escape. Now, what's a fair price fer taking you off this pier, I wonder?"
Quenthel bristled and doubtless would have struck him down then, but Halisstra stepped between them.
"If we get caught here," the Melarn priestess said, "we'll implicate you in whatever charges are brought against us, dwarf. Now get us underway."
Coalhewer stared up at the three dark elves, his face contorted with fury.
"I dealt fairly with ye, and this bemy thanks?" he snarled. "I should've known better than to traffic with yer kind!"
He whirled to cast off the lines securing the macabre vessel to the quay, barking orders at the hulking skeletons in the center of the boat.
Quenthel looked at Halisstra with narrowed eyes and asked, "Why spare the dwarf? You know he's lying about commanding the boat."
Halisstra shrugged and said, "You can always kill him later, if you're so inclined."
As the wheels at the side of the vessel began to churn in the water, Ryld and Jeggred sprinted up, clambering aboard. Blood dripped from both the half-demon's talons and Splitter. Pharaun bounded up a moment later, after sealing the end of the pier with a wall of roaring flame to keep the soldiers at bay.
"That won't hold them for long, I'm sure," the wizard said. "There must be three or four mages back there, and they'll extinguish that wall quickly enough. Best we get well away from here before they can fling their spells against our humble conveyance."
Ryld studied the wall of fire at the pier's end and scowled.
"You realize you've also blocked Valas's escape with that spell," he grated. "We need him, Pharaun. We can't leave him here."
"I'm flattered, Master Argith."
From the shadows of the vessel's stern, Valas stood up and adjusted hispiwafwi.
"Where in Lolth's dark hells did you come from?" the weapons master said, blinking and rubbing his eyes.
"I boarded just a few steps behind the three ladies," the scout said. He glanced around, savoring the open surprise on the faces of his companions, then made a small bow and a gesture of self-deprecation. "As I said, I am not easily followed or marked when I do not wish to be. Besides, it seemed that the three of you had the crown prince's soldiers in hand."
The Master of Melee-Magthere snorted, and returned Splitter to its sheath across his back. He turned to the city's waterfront, which was re-ceding quickly into the darkness. Fire still glowed along the piers, illumi-nating the bizarre profiles of more duergar vessels whose crews swarmed the decks, shouting orders at each other and scurrying to obey the crown prince's soldiers.
"I hope our vessel is faster than theirs," Ryld said.
"Not to worry," Coalhewer called from his perch. "This be the fastest vessel on the Darklake. None of those scows can catch us."
He snapped out another order to the hulking skeletons driving the boat, and the undead monstrosities redoubled their efforts, driving their crank-shafts faster and faster, until a froth of white foam boiled at the paddle-wheels. The duergar city faded into the darkness behind them, marked by nothing more than a red glare on the cavern ceiling.
"A dire development all this," Quenthel mused. "Menzoberranzan hardly needs a war with the duergar now."
"Do we alter our course?" Ryld asked. "Menzoberranzan must be warned of the duergar army."
The Mistress of Arach-Tinilith stood in thought for a moment, then said, "No. What we're doing is more important, and if I am not mistaken Pharaun possesses the means to pass a warning to the archmage. Is that not so, wizard?"
The Master of Sorcere simply smiled and spread his hands.
Nimor's soft footfalls echoed in corridor after empty corridor as he made his way through the crown prince's fortress. At odd intervals he passed pairs of scowling guards in heavy armor, halberds held upright, and he won-dered if they ever tired of looking at the blank stone walls in the course of their duties.
Most likely not, he decided. Duergar were simply insensitive to that sort of thing.
In his hand, Nimor idly flipped a small envelope from finger to finger. The Lady Aliisza of the Sceptered One's Court (an inventive title if Nimor had ever heard one) had invited him