Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [21]
“Since the bitch who gave birth to me was an elf, I can say what I like about them,” Caele retorted.
“Fine way to talk about your mother.”
“She did her part. She brought me into this world, and she had a good time doing it. At least I had a mother. I didn’t sprout up in a dark cave like some sort of fungus—”
“You go too far!” Basalt howled.
“Just not far enough!” Caele hissed in fury, his long fingers twitching.
The dwarf threw the rag to the floor. The half-elf forgot about studying his spells. The two glared at each other. The air crackled with magic.
Nuitari, watching from the shadows, smiled. He liked his mages to be combative. It kept the sharp edges honed.
Basalt was half mad. Caele was wholly mad. Nuitari knew that long before he’d brought them to his Tower beneath the Blood Sea. He didn’t care, not so long as they were good at their jobs, and both were extremely good, for they’d had years to perfect their gifts.
Due to their long life spans, the half-elf and the dwarf were among the few spellcasters remaining on Krynn who had served the God of the Dark Moon prior to his mother’s theft of the world. Both had excellent memories and had retained their knowledge of their spellcraft over the intervening years.
These two were among the first to look into the heavens and see the black moon, and they were among the first to fall down on their knees and offer their services to their god. Nuitari transported them to this Tower on one condition—that they not kill each other. Both the dwarf and the half-elf were exceptionally powerful wizards. A battle between would not only end in the loss to him of two valuable servants, it would probably do serious damage to his newly reconstructed Tower.
Caele—half Kagonesti, half-Ergothian—was prone to violent rages. He’d committed murder before and had no compunctions about doing it again. Having renounced both the human and the elven side of himself, he had left civilization, roaming the wilderness like a savage beast until the return of his magic had made life worth living again. As for Basalt, his use of dark magic had gained him numerous enemies, who, when the gods of magic vanished, were elated to find their foe was suddenly powerless. Basalt had been forced to hide deep underground, where he’d lived in despair for years, mourning the loss of his art. Nuitari had given the dwarf back his life.
Nuitari waited patiently to see the outcome. Such flare-ups were frequent between the two. Their dislike and distrust of each other paled in comparison to their fear of him, however, and thus far, nothing had ever come of their altercations. This confrontation was more tense than usual, for both were nervous and on edge after the encounter with Chemosh. Sparks and spells might have flown, but Nuitari gave a loud cough.
Basalt’s head jerked around. Caele’s eyes flickered in fear. The magical tension whistled out of the room like the air out of an inflated pig bladder.
Basalt thrust his hands into the sleeves of his robes lest he be tempted to use them. Caele swallowed several times, his jaw working, as though he were literally having to masticate his anger before choking it down.
“You want to know why I went to all this trouble to create this illusion of Mina?” Nuitari asked, entering the room.
“Only if you want to tell us, Master,” said Basalt humbly.
“I am intrigued by this Mina,” said Nuitari. “I find it hard to believe the death of a mere mortal would have such a shattering effect upon a god, yet Chemosh was nearly destroyed by his grief! What kind of power does this Mina hold over him? I wonder, too, about Mina’s relationship with Takhisis. There are rumors the Dark Queen was jealous of this girl. My mother! Jealous of a mortal! Impossible. That’s why I ordered you to continue using the illusion spell—to stop Chemosh from coming to Mina’s rescue so that we could study her.”
“Did you learn anything about her, Master?” Caele asked. “I believe you must have found my reports particularly enlightening—”
“I read them,