Extinction

"Cast your spells when the last grain of sand fells," he told the others. "Make sure your conjurations all end at precisely the same instant."

After taking care to make sure his protective devices were still on his person and tucking Kyorli safely into his sleeve, Gromph began his own spell.

He chose a necromantic spell, one of the most powerful in his arsenal. Slowly, one eye on the hourglass, he rasped out words whose raw power scratched the inside of his throat, making it bleed. Dimly, he was aware of the magical conjurations of the other wizards.

Julani held both hands in front of him, the first two fingers forked in the gesture that would summon a powerful lightning bolt, and Grendan was kneading the air with his fingers, creating a hypnotic weave of shifting color, Prath had chosen an evocation that would summon a magic missile?a feeble spell, but probably the best the first-year student could manage. Zoran, meanwhile, slumped lazily in his chair, a grin tweaking the corner of his lips. Gromph longed to give the insolent boy a magical thrashing?but dared not interrupt his own spell. The hourglass was nearly empty.

As the last of the sand trickled out, Gromph spoke the final word of his spell?and heard the others do the same. His pointing forefinger turned momentarily skeletal as a thin ray of bone-white erupted from its tip and lanced into the crystal ball, streaking toward Nimor's chest. In that same moment, lightning erupted from Julani's fingers, filling the air with the boom of thunder and the stench of ozone. Grendan's hypnotic pattern rushed toward its target. Zoran had said he was going to cast a spell that would send Nimor into fits of laughter, incapacitating him, but instead he drew and fired his wand of wonder. A useless stream of gems erupted from its tip. Meanwhile the three magic missiles Prath had conjured up glanced harmlessly off some magical defense that surrounded Nimor, just as Gromph had expected.

No, they ricocheted?straight back at the boy. Which was impossible.

Gromph tried to shout a warning, but all he managed was, "Ward yourselves! The spells?"

Then his own death spell came hurtling back at him. The bone-white ray, chill as the grave, struck him in the chest, the precise spot he'd aimed for on Nimor. His enchanted piwafwi soaked up the spell, its hood, cuffs, and hem instantly crumbling away like ancient, rotted cloth. Even so, the spell rocked him to the side as if he'd been kicked in the head by a rothe. He tumbled out of his chair, winding up in an undignified heap on the floor.

As he fell he heard Prath grunt as his three magic missiles struck, punching deep, bloody holes into the boy's chest. In the same instant, twin lightning bolts struck Julani, passing through his body in less than a heartbeat to explode out of his hands, feet and the top of his head, killing him instantly. Grendan, meanwhile, went slack-jawed as the hypnotic pattern he'd conjured appeared in the air in front of his face. Beside him, Zoran flung up his hands as the stream of gems from his wand rushed back at him, thudding into his chest. One caught him in the head, knocking what little sense he had out of it, and he fell out of his chair, unconscious.

Lifting his head, Gromph was just in time to see the crystal ball turn a solid white. It felt with a crash to the floor, knocking the eagle's cage over and cracking in two. Inside the cage, the eagle screeed in anguish as its missing eyeball?split in two and weeping blood?returned to its socket.

Gromph looked at the destruction his plan had wrought and was furious with himself. His experiment had turned out most disastrously for House Baenre. Julani was dead, and Prath?judging by the sound of his labored, gurgling breathing?would soon die without magical intervention. Grendan would be a drooling idiot for some time to come, and Zoran. . well, being knocked unconscious was precisely what he deserved for using so whimsical a weapon in such dire circumstances. Noori was unscathed but had only divination magic at her disposal. Besides, she was too busy fussing over her lover to be of any use, even were her spells more powerful.

Gromph had half expected Nimor to have magic that would protect him from spells, but only a handful of the spells should have been turned?not all of them. And certainly not those spells, like the hypnotic pattern, which targeted the air next to Nimor, and not the drow himself. Whatever device or spell protected Nimor must have been the result of a unique enchantment?one beyond the capabilities of most mortal wizards.

Gromph knew of only one spellcaster capable of such powerful magic: the lichdrow Dyrr.