Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [98]
Not that Q'arlynd had been that kind of master-and not that he'd let anyone else meddle with his property. Yet in Ched Nasad, a slave had never known when the lash would fall.
In days gone by, Q'arlynd would have crossed his arms and stared imperiously down his nose at the svirfneblin. But that had been another place, another time. Furthermore, it was important that things get off to a good start. He dropped down into a squat that brought his eyes level with Flinderspeld's, and smiled. He started to extend his hands in the arm-clasping gesture the surface elves so loved, but couldn't quite bring himself to complete it. He was of a noble House, after all. He rested his hands on his knees instead. "Good to see you again, Flinderspeld."
Flinderspeld blinked behind the gemcutter's loupe. "What are you doing here, M-" He checked his tongue, and drew his shoulders a little straighter. He glanced at Q'arlynd's hands, which were bare. Q'arlynd had been careful to tuck into a pocket the master ring that connected him with his apprentices; he didn't want to remind Flinderspeld of his former servitude. Not yet. "What brings you to Silverymoon, Q'arlynd?"
"I'd hoped to purchase a chardalyn. Do you sell them?"
Disappointment flickered briefly across Flinderspeld's face. His attention slid to the crowd that was gathering, and his expression changed to one of understanding. "Of course." He stepped back and opened the larger door. "I stock them. Come in."
Flinderspeld closed the door, set down his stick, and folded his arms across his chest. "Now that Blinnet can't overhear us, tell me why you're really here."
Blinnet: that must be the name of the female who'd led Q'arlynd here. He waggled a finger at Flinderspeld. "You're entirely too smart, for a s-"
"For a what?" Flinderspeld interrupted, his nostrils flaring. "A slave? A svirfneblin?"
"For a shopkeeper," Q'arlynd said, affecting a hurt look.
"Oh."
"But then, I always knew you were an intelligent fellow." Q'arlynd nodded at the display of expensive gems. "Just look what you've built for yourself, in such a short time. This is quite the shop."
Flinderspeld glanced through the window at the knot of people gathered outside his shop. "What is it you want, Q'arlynd?"
"If I told you I came to see how you were faring, what would you say?"
"I wouldn't believe you. It's been four years."
There it was again: that flicker of disappointment.
Q'arlynd gestured at the frowning faces outside the window. "Visiting you might have caused you problems. I enquired after you instead, from time to time. That's how I knew where to find you. I thank you for welcoming me into your shop, even though it will be bad for business."
Flinderspeld shrugged. "I was curious to see what you wanted." His eye settled on the tiny silver sword Q'arlynd had hung around his neck. "You wear Eilistraee's symbol, I see."
Q'arlynd hid his smile. "That I do." He plunged into his carefully rehearsed request. "It's temple business that brings me to Silverymoon. Together with some other wizards, I'm trying to learn the location of a surface elf temple that predates Eilistraee's banishment from Arvandor-a quest Eilistraee's high priestess has given her blessing to. The divinations we've tried so far haven't worked; you may have heard of the difficulties the augmented Faerzress is causing among the drow."
Flinderspeld nodded.
"We-I-need your help."
Flinderspeld turned to the counter. "What do you want? A scrying gem?"
"We've tried that already, and it didn't help. Nor, it turns out, did the gorgondy wine we purchased. I hoped to locate a more potent vintage."
Flinderspeld frowned. "Why come to me? I cut gems; I don't vint wine."
Q'arlynd spread his hands. "You're the only svirfneblin I know. And, more to the point, the only one who knows me. Years ago, you mentioned the Fountains of Memory. I need to look into their waters and use them to find the temple."
Flinderspeld gave Q'arlynd a guarded look. "What makes you think I know where they are?"
"I don't. But you must know someone who does-whoever