Resurrection by Paul S. Kemp Page A

smoke illuminated the schools in silhouette. The siege of the duergar from the north continued unabated. Gromph knew that each of the schools was scarred and burned by stonefire bombs, but he knew too that each stood.
    And soon, the duergar would find the spells of Lolth's priestesses bolstering the defenses, strengthening the counterattacks, and rejuvenating the fallen.
    "The duergar are stubborn," said Nauzhror, following his gaze.
    "More likely, they are ignorant of Lolth's return," Gromph replied. "But ignorant or stubborn, they soon will be dead."
    In Gromph's mind, the battle for the city was already won. The siege of Menzoberranzan soon would end. He allowed himself a moment's satisfaction. He had done the part allotted him, and his city would live.
    "Agreed," Nauzhror said. "It is only a matter of time, now."
    Gromph turned and looked to the other side of the cavern, where rose the high plateau of Qu'ellarz'orl. If Sorcere, Arach-Tinilith, and Melee-Magthere were Menzoberranzan's spine, the great Houses of Qu'ellarz'orl were the city's heart.
    House after House lined the plateau, with House Baenre dominating by far in both size and power. Squatting in House Baenre's shadow along the rise, barely visible from such a distance, were the fortresses of the city's other great houses-Mizzrym, Xorlarrin, Faen Tlabbar, even Agrach Dyrr.
    Gromph's eyes narrowed when they fell upon the stalactite wall of the traitor House. Occasional flashes of power and explosions of magical energy lit the Dyrr fortress. The siege by the Xorlarrin mages continued. Gromph imagined that it would for some time. With Yasraena and her underpriestesses once more wielding Lolth's power, the siege could take a long while.
    "The Xorlarrin are also stubborn," Gromph observed.
    "And greedy," Nauzhror said. "With House Agrach Dyrr defeated and removed from the Ruling Council…" He trailed off.
    Gromph nodded. When Agrach Dyrr fell, no doubt House Xorlarrin hoped to take its place on the Council. Nauzhror observed, "The fall of House Dyrr too is only a matter of time."
    Gromph nodded again and said, "But I cannot wait."
    Within House Agrach Dyrr, he believed, was the lichdrow's phylactery, the receptacle of the lichdrow's immortal essence. Gromph had to find and destroy it if he was to fully and finally destroy the lichdrow. Otherwise, the surviving essence of the undead wizard, embodied in the phylactery and driven by Dyrr's undying will, would bring itself back together and reincorporate a body within a matter of threescore hours. Were that to occur, the battle between the lichdrow and Gromph would begin anew.
    And Gromph no longer had a Staff of Power to sacrifice in order to win.
    Another fireball exploded along the parapet of Agrach Dyrr's wall.
    "What are you thinking now, Yasraena?" he asked softly.
    Gromph knew that the Matron Mother of House Agrach Dyrr already would have learned of the lichdrow's fall; likely she was scrying Gromph even then.
    Like Gromph, Yasraena would know that the lichdrow was not fully dead until and unless his phylactery was destroyed.
    "Did he confide its location to you, Matron Mother?" he whispered.
    "Archmage?" Nauzhror asked.
    Gromph ignored Nauzhror. He thought it unlikely that the lichdrow would have shared the location of his phylactery with Yasraena. He imagined that the relationship between the lichdrow and the Matron Mother would have been a tense one, not unlike that between Gromph and his sister Triel. Likely, Yasraena no more knew the location of the lichdrow's phylactery than did Gromph. But like Gromph, Yasraena would look first to her own House, the most likely hiding place.
    She already would be looking for it, Gromph knew. He had little time. He would have to find a way through the defensive wards of one of Menzoberranzan's great Houses while it was under siege and while its Matron Mother and her underpriestesses-all once more armed with spells from Lolth-would be awaiting him.
    He almost laughed.