The noble's face twisted and spasmed again. His body Jerked about as if buffeted by unseen hands. He passed trembling fingers over his face, and sat down. "I–I cannot say more," he mumbled.

"Magic," a councilor shouted suddenly. "Someone's using magic on Phandymm!"

"Magic! Through the spell-shields?"

"Aye, Zhentarim magic!"

A Zhentarim wizard rose angrily. "I resent that charge! Will the high priest examine Lord Phandymm? I am confident no spell will be found upon him!"

Fzoul rose and bowed again. "As this meeting unfolds," he said dryly, "it occurs to me that perhaps I should simply remain standing." There were chuckles amid the growing tension. Again Fzoul peered through the glowing gem to seek out any trace of sorcery-and frowned.

"I find no magic," the high priest said firmly. "But there is something…"

He crooked a finger, and a small flask rose from th breast of the hunched lord's robe, sparkling as it drifte smoothly into the air. All could see the potent wine within.

"Ah," Fzoul said, amid a spreading ripple of laughte When the mirth had diminished, he let the flask sink bac and said delicately, "Lord Phandymm seems in some. emotional distress, but his deep feelings for the safety of our city are clear. And from the wisdom of more years than most of us boast, he has called for a revote."

The Zhentarim wizard who'd denied the presence of magic sprang to his feet, voice triumphant. "I move a revote proceed!"

Councilor Urathyl almost fell over his feet as he rose to shout, "I speak in support!"

Fzoul bowed again. "A revote must now occur."

Manshoon sat silently at his front bench, smiling a little. His gaze never left the face of the sweating Lord Phandymm.

From his high vantage, Lord Chess saw a little glow in the first lord's eyes, and was sure: magic. He leapt to his feet. "Enough, Manshoon-and all of you Zhentarim! Let all foul magic be left outside this hall. The councilors of Zhentil Keep must deliberate with clear wits!"