Aliisza became aware of all this in the blink of an eye.
Aliisza hesitated. Her instinct told her to draw weapons and attack the trespasser, take him by surprise before he could react, but she also knew Ansa would never do that. She was loath to ruin her carefully planned deception.
Then, in the time it took the alu to wonder whether it was the master or herself being hunted, another wave of subliminal warning washed over her. A hint of light and motion caught her eye, coming from her right. A figure materialized, stepping through a magical doorway in the center of the room. Multicolored emanations swarmed around him as well, a visual cacophony of magical protections revealed by Pharaun's signet ring. He immediately waved a wand at her.
Instantly, Aliisza's surroundings grew unearthly silent. She could not even hear the rush of blood in her ears as her heart pounded.
Me, Aliisza understood in that dreadful instant, knowing most of her spells had just been rendered useless. They've come for me. But how? I was careful. So very careful.
And yet someone had ferreted her out. The deception was ruined. Kaanyr's plan to disgrace Helm Dwarf- friend was lost. Rage coursed through her, made her want to flense someone. The fool with the wand would do nicely.
As Aliisza turned toward the wizard, the door to the outer hall burst open and a third figure entered. It was a woman, heavily armored and radiating powerful magic. She gestured at the disguised alu.
The half-fiend swore, recognizing the divine motions. Time to go, Aliisza decided, feeling concern replace her rage. They aren't playing games. She began to summon innate magical energy, intending to create an extradimensional portal through which to flee.
She was not quick enough.
A flash of emerald arced across the alu's vision as a glowing green ray shot from her adversary's fingers. She twisted around in an attempt to dodge the shimmering energy, but it struck her on the shoulder. Instantly, a glowing field of similar color coalesced all about her. She was surprised to discover that she felt no pain. The beam had not directly harmed her.
In the next breath, Aliisza had her magical doorway created. Without waiting to see what sort of vile magic had ensnared her, she stepped through.
And bounced back.
The doorway would not permit her passage. To the alu, it felt as if she were trying to move into a stone wall. She could sense the magic of it, feel the innate control she had over the portal, even detect the location beyond, where she had anchored the other end of the extradimensional pathway. But she was barred from using it.
Cursing to herself in her soundless state, Aliisza understood the nature of the green magic that clung to her.
They've anchored me, she thought as a brief wave of panic washed through her. She forced the abhorrent emotion down. Better cut my way out of here the old-fashioned way, she decided.
The alu shifted into her true form.
The silly wisp of a girl dressed only in a nightshirt vanished. The half-fiend, dressed in sinewy black leather armor and with unfurling black leathery wings, replaced her. Aliisza drew herself up to her full height, giving a disdainful stare at the three adversaries arrayed around her, and jerked free the magical elven blade she wore at her side.
The transition had just the effect the alu wanted. All three of the intruders paused, staring at the fiendish creature before them.
Aliisza took advantage of their startled hesitation and lunged at the wizard with the wand. She felt the blade slip through arcane protection, its own magic overwhelming the cloaking armor surrounding the man. The keen tip of the sword pierced the wizard in the abdomen and doubled him over in a single deadly stroke. The half-fiend yanked the blade free and spun to face her other two opponents, heedless of the man as he crumpled to the floor.
Only then did she spot the fourth figure.
Zasian Menz filled the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a pompous smile on his face.
'You,' Aliisza snarled, seething, but no sound issued from her, the silence as mocking as the seneschal's gleeful stare. She wanted to run him through with her blade, to wrap her fingers around his neck and choke the life from him.
Zasian stepped into the room and made a gesture. The alu saw his mouth move as he pointed, directing the two remaining assailants confronting her. The man's intentions were clear enough, even if his words were lost to Aliisza's deafened ears. Surround her, do not let her escape. She was the quarry he was after.
To her left, the figure by the fireplace unfurled a weighted net. To her right, the priestess sidestepped, making room for the seneschal to join the fray.
Knowing she was out-muscled and lacking any spells, Aliisza backed away, looking for freedom. She glanced at the window, closed against the cold of night, and wondered if she could bull her way through it. Though Dwarf- friend's quarters were on the fourth floor of the Master's Hall, her wings would negotiate the fall and speed the alu to safety. But she would first have to break through the stout wooden shutters.
Aliisza must have taken a faltering step in that direction, for immediately, her foes rushed to try to encircle her. She dared not engage one of them and put her back to the other two, but she also couldn't stand there and let them pick her apart with magic. She eyed the distance and wondered how much it would hurt to hurtle herself though the wooden panel.
The floor lurched beneath Aliisza's feet. The room tottered and shook, and the alu stumbled, off balance. Piles of parchment, precariously stacked on many surfaces, slid to the floor, scattering everywhere. Books fell from the bookcases. The lamps swayed, and a candle fell to the floor, spilling wax and setting fire to some of the scraps of parchment strewn nearby.
It took Aliisza a moment to realize what was happening. Then her mind wrapped around it. Earthquake!
The trio of assailants shifted and stumbled, caught as much by surprise as the alu. The priestess grabbed at the table to steady herself, while Zasian staggered backward and grasped the doorframe with both hands.
That distraction was all she needed. Fighting the swaying world, Aliisza darted forward, intent on launching herself through the window. The shifting of the floor and the scattering of scrolls and parchment made it difficult for her to build speed, but she closed the distance. When she was several steps away, she began to tuck, anticipating the trajectory she would use to hurtle herself through the shutters and escape into the night.
The rogue by the fireplace, deft on his feet, recovered quickly. In a blinding swirl of motion, he sent the net spinning, fanning out into a large circle. Aliisza sprinted and jumped, lifting herself off the ground. She tucked herself into a ball, desperate to evade the trap and break through.
She was a step too slow.
The net settled around her body, the weights attached to its edges pulling it tight. She thrashed and fought its confining embrace even as the rogue pulled on a trailing rope, yanking the net taut.
Unable to complete her leap to freedom, Aliisza jerked to a sudden stop and tumbled to the stone floor. She landed hard, absorbing most of the impact on one shoulder. She felt jarring, burning pain shoot through the joint and felt one of her wings crack as it bent at an angle beneath her weight. The pain nauseated her, and spots swam in her vision.
Fighting panic, Aliisza rolled to a sitting position to face her oncoming attackers. The ground seemed to have ceased pitching, and the trio was closing the distance with her. She fumbled to bring her magical blade to bear, trying to pull it free of the confining net, but the tangle of hemp strands made her efforts fruitless.
Aliisza gave up and frantically fumbled a hand toward one of her pouches. She knew a spell she could cast without speaking, one that would permit her to transform into a puddle of liquid. If she could summon the magic to do so, she reasoned, she might be able to slip away by oozing through the gap between the shutters. But she needed a pinch of gelatin to conjure the transformation. She slipped her hand inside the pouch and began fumbling for the packet of powder.
Her seemingly endless streak of bad luck continued.
The priestess, a lackey of Torm judging from the markings upon her breastplate, loomed over the half-
