circumstances. If a simple teleport spell would not work down here, he could only imagine what might happen if he attempted to use a wish.
Vangerdahast closed his spellbook and returned it to his weathercloak, then checked his iron weapons and hoisted his stiff body to its feet. As he rose, an unexpected clatter sounded from the other side of the wall against which he had been leaning. He jumped in fright and spun around to see a pair of red eyes peering out through a cockeyed goblin window.
“All rested?” hissed Xanthon.
Vangerdahast forgot about his aching bones and dashed across the plaza, hurling himself headlong into the nearest tunnel. He landed flat on his belly and slid a good five paces on the muddy floor, then spun instantly onto his back. The wizard continued to squirm down the passage as fast as his old legs could propel his ample weight, at the same time hurling a magic blast high and well behind him.
The ceiling collapsed with a deafening crash, filling the tunnel with a black cloud of billowing dust. Vangerdahast started to cough, then caught himself and managed to cast a flying spell before he broke into a fit of hacking. He pushed himself off the ground and flew down the narrow corridor as fast as he dared without his shielding spells. It did not even occur to him until the next plaza that had there been any real danger, he would already have been dead.
One of the last things Vangerdahast had done when he felt himself nodding off last night-or whenever it had been-was to cast a simple enchantment to protect himself from evil, prolonging its duration with a couple of extension spells. He had been counting on the simple enchantment to keep his foe at bay long enough for him to awaken and escape, but the spell had apparently prevented Xanthon from touching him at all, and even a ghazneth could not drain what they could not touch.
Beginning to see how he might defeat the phantom, Vangerdahast stopped to cast another spell to make the protection permanent. No sooner had he fetched the ingredients from his cloak pocket, however, than he heard Xanthon sloshing toward him. The wizard put the ingredients away and fled into another tunnel.
“Wait!” Xanthon called. “We have something to-“
Vangerdahast blasted the ceiling down as he had before, drowning out the ghazneth’s protest in midsentence. He started down the passage toward the next plaza.
Fifty paces later, Xanthon appeared in the intersection ahead. He rolled to his haunches and raised his clawed hands in a grotesque mockery of a truce sign.
“Hold your attack and hear me out. We can always resume fighting in a minute.”
“You have nothing to say I would be interested in hearing.” Despite his retort, Vangerdahast made no move to attack or flee, instead, he quietly began to move his fingers through the gestures for a prismatic spray. “I doubt you are here to yield to the king’s justice.”
“Hardly-and we’ll have none of that.” Xanthon waved a talon at the magician’s moving fingers, then waited until the magician ceased his gestures. “I was thinking of something quite the opposite.”
“Me, surrender to you?” Vangerdahast scoffed. “I thought Boldovar was the mad one.”
This actually drew a smile from Xanthon. “Actually, it wouldn’t be surrender. We have need of a seventh, and Luthax claims-“
“Luthax?” Vangerdahast gasped. Luthax had been an early castellan of the War Wizards of Cormyr-and the only high-ranking member of the brotherhood to ever betray the kingdom. “You have raised him?”
“Me?” Xanthon chuckled. “Hardly. The master… let us say I am but a tool.”
“Of what?”
Xanthon rolled his eyes. “You know the prophecy, ‘Seven scourges, five long gone, one of the day, one soon to come..? Do I really have to spell it out?”
“And you want me?” Unable to believe what he was hearing, Vangerdahast glanced over each of his shoulders in turn. This whole conversation had to be some unbalanced attempt to divert his attention. “This is an insult.”
Xanathon shrugged. “I’d rather kill you, but it you say no, there’ll be someone else. There is no shortage of traitors to Cormyr-you’ve seen to that.”
“Traitor? Me?” Vangerdahast nearly reached for a wand, but forced himself to contain his anger. There was only one explanation for Xanthon’s behavior, he was attempting to goad Vangerdahast into a rash act. “What happened to ‘you or me, old fool’?”
“You’re forgetting ‘many ways to enter, only one to leave,’” Xanthon replied. “You had to see how hopeless it is. There’s only one way out of here-and that’s with us.”
“Or past your dead body!” Vangerdahast hissed, no longer able to stand the insults to his integrity. “You have my answer.”
The wizard retreated down the tunnel, though only because he did not dare attack until he had cast the rest of his shielding magic. Assaulting the ghazneth would dispel the enchantment protecting him from evil, and despite his anger, he remained determined to emerge from this battle alive. When he reached the previous intersection, he picked a tunnel at random and streaked into it at top speed. It hardly mattered to him which direction he fled. He was lost no matter what way he turned.
But it mattered to Xanthon. The ghazneth began to stay close enough for Vangerdahast to hear at all times, yet just beyond the range of the wizard’s glowing ring. Every so often, the phantom would emerge in an intersection to taunt Vangerdahast with saccharin pleas to reconsider. The wizard never bothered to reply. He simply retreated to the previous intersection and tried another path. Xanthon was careful to keep him moving, so that he would have no time to stop and cast spells, and to keep him away from plazas and other places where he would have room to fight with anything but magic.
Vangerdahast tried several times to slow his pursuer by bringing the ceiling down on his head, but Xanthon always sensed these ambushes and rushed ahead to absorb the spell. The sorcerer soon realized he was only feeding his enemy’s magic thirst and put his wands away, concentrating instead on raising his shielding spells. He lost two enchantments to interruption-one defending him from poison and the other from blunt attacks-but he did manage to cast the spell that protected him from fang and claw. He considered it a major victory.
Eventually, the protection from evil spell expired. Xanthon began to grow more bold, sometimes attempting to ambush Vangerdahast as he passed through intersections, sometimes rushing up from behind to repeat his ‘invitation.’ The wizard resisted the temptation to renew the spell. He could sense the ghazneth’s growing excitement and knew the battle was about to come to a head. When that happened, he would need a couple of surprises to win the advantage.
Vangerdahast sensed his chance when the cramped corridors finally intersected a true goblin boulevard, a muddy passage broad enough to hold three men abreast and fully twelve feet high-as the wizard discovered when he climbed skyward and suddenly smashed into the formless black ceiling. Xanthon paused at the mouth of one of the smaller tunnels and glared up at the royal magician with ill-concealed hatred.
“Hide up there as long as you wish,” he hissed. “When you begin to starve, perhaps you will join us.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you.” Vangerdahast began to fish through his weathercloak. “I was thinking the time had come to punish your treason.”
The wizard pulled a pinch of powdered iron from his pocket and sprinkled it over his own head, at the same time uttering the spell. Xanathon’s eyes flared scarlet, then he withdrew into the tunnel, hissing and spraying a cloud of droning wasps out into the boulevard. The wizard chuckled and descended to the ground to renew his protection from evil spell-the enchantment required sprinkling a circle of powdered silver on the ground-then added a couple of extensions for good measure and shot into the tunnel after Xanthon. It was his turn to be the hunter.
Xanthon tried twice early in the chase to leap on Vangerdahast and drain the magic from his protective enchantments. Each time, the phantom was thwarted by the protection from evil spell, which prevented him from touching the wizard at all. Vangerdahast stayed close on his quarry’s tail, keeping up a constant patter about punishing him for his betrayals. Within the space of half an hour, Xanthon was reduced to mere fleeing. An hour after that, he was beginning to stumble. He grew desperate and tried to slow his pursuer with insect swarms and snake nets, but this took energy, and the wizard simply brushed them aside with a wave of the appropriate wand.
Finally, Xanthon returned to the goblin boulevard and sprinted straight down the middle in a desperate attempt to simply outrun Vangerdahast. The strategy might have worked, had the parkway not fed into a huge
