Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [97]
"This drow is," Q'arlynd said firmly. "After Blingdenstone fell, Flinderspeld became a slave. I purchased him-and set him free."
A female svirfneblin set down the pack she'd been unloading and moved closer. "What's your name?"
Q'arlynd bowed-just enough to acknowledge the waist-high female. "Q'arlynd Melarn, formerly of Ched Nasad."
"I thought I recognized you! You're the one who teleported Flinderspeld here, four years ago. Flinderspeld often speaks of you."
Whispers spread like ripples on a pond. Q'arlynd waited until they ebbed, then looked at the niches that honeycombed the cavern-each of them, a merchant's stall. "Does Flinderspeld have a stall here? I'd like to speak to him."
The female chuckled and jerked her head at the ceiling. "He's upside."
Q'arlynd lifted an eyebrow.
"Upside," she repeated. "In the main marketplace. His customers are surface folk, mostly. They're less at ease down here."
"I see," Q'arlynd said. "Will you show me the way?"
The female nodded. "Follow me."
She led him back up the stairs, shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand as they wound through the maze of stalls. Flinderspeld's place of business turned out to be one of the shops that fringed the marketplace. Its elaborately carved door held a massive quartz-crystal knocker. A smaller door was set into the wall next to it: a gnome-sized entrance, fitted with its own handle and knocker. Next to that was a large clearstone window, scribed with a glyph of warding. Just inside the window stood a display counter. Precious stones of various colors glittered against black velvet cushions.
"Flinderspeld's done well for himself," Q'arlynd commented.
The svirfneblin nodded. She seemed to be waiting for something. Q'arlynd began to dismiss her before realizing what it was she wanted. He pulled a slim gold coin out of his pouch and handed it to her. She lifted it to her mouth as if to bite it, then stopped, as if thinking better of it.
Q'arlynd hid his smile. Poisoning a gold coin was such a time-worn trick that few drow bothered with it anymore.
She tucked the coin in her belt pouch and hurried away. Or rather, she pretended to. Out of the corner of his eye, Q'arlynd saw her blur, then duck behind a nearby stall.
He lifted the knocker on the larger door and let it fall. A moment later, he sensed he was being watched. Not by the people who thronged the marketplace; theirs was a steady stare of wary curiosity and harsh judgment. This scrutiny felt closer, more intense. Was it Seldszar, checking in on Q'arlynd's progress? The Master of Divination had given Q'arlynd a brooch to block scryings, but Q'arlynd suspected it contained a "window" that allowed Seldszar to scry Q'arlynd, in much the same fashion that Q'arlynd's master ring allowed him to peek in on his apprentices, and vice versa. Or perhaps the explanation was simpler. Perhaps the sensation of being watched was just Flinderspeld, peeking through some magical device to see who knocked on his door.
Q'arlynd ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. He flicked dust from the hem of his silk piwafwi. He waited.
The door opened. A male svirfneblin wearing a leather apron smudged with polishing rouge stepped out into the sunlight and stared up at Q'arlynd. A gemcutter's loupe hung from a leather band around his forehead, the lens grossly magnifying his right eye. Gem dust glittered on his hands. He held a wooden stick with a half-polished gemstone affixed to its cup-shaped end by a blob of red wax.
A moonstone, Q'arlynd saw. Sacred to Eilistraee. He took it as a good omen. "Is your master in the shop?"
The svirfneblin had trouble speaking. "Q'arlynd?" he said at last.
Q'arlynd's eyebrows rose, despite himself. "Flinderspeld? You look… different."
That he did. Flinderspeld had gained weight since Q'arlynd had seen him last. The tight little lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth had smoothed out. He looked relaxed and solid, a far cry from the slave who had always been tensely poised to duck a