Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [38]
Q'arlynd examined the back of the creature's head. "No real damage done." He released the hair and stepped back.
"You should have whipped the grimlocks, just the same. Both of them."
Q'arlynd ignored the younger male's comment. He didn't want to get caught up in another lengthy debate. Too much rested on this experiment. "What about the others? Are they on their way?"
Eldrinn closed his eyes and toyed with the copper ring Q'arlynd had given him. Faerie fire danced across his closed eyelids as he used the ring to view the others from afar. "Piri's driftdisc is just passing the Web. Zarifar and Baltak are en route from the Quillspires; they should be right behind him."
"Good."
Eldrinn opened his eyes. "Could Alexa-?"
"No."
"But she's one of the most promising apprentices the College of Conjuration has. She created a sigil that-"
"We've been through this before," Q'arlynd said. "No." He knew why the boy wanted him to invite the female wizard to join their fledgling school: he was her consort. Which was exactly the reason Q'arlynd didn't want her. He didn't need her bedding any of the others, stirring up petty jealousies.
Eldrinn pouted but didn't protest further.
Q'arlynd tapped his foot impatiently. As they waited for the others, he performed an exploratory thrust into the mind of the chitine, ignoring the faerie fire that sparked from his temples as he did so. The chitine's mind was difficult to penetrate-and brutal to remain in, once he was inside.
Hate you, the creature raged back at him. Kill you, filthy drows. Hook open stomach, spill your feces. Kill-
Enough. Satisfied that he would be able to retain contact, Q'arlynd withdrew.
He stared at the creature, wondering why the wizards of Ched Nasad had ever bothered to create such a loathsome race. When Q'arlynd was a novice, chitines had been plentiful; the breeding pits of the Conservatory had been full of them. The masters used to set dozens free each year, to provide sport for the hunt. But now that Ched Nasad lay in ruins, chitines weren't being bred any more. And those that had escaped were hunting drow.
The chitine was a living reminder of Ched Nasad's former prowess at magic. As for Q'arlynd's former home, it had fallen during Lolth's Silence. Literally fallen to pieces, leaving only a rubble-choked cavern where a city of thirty thousand drow had once stood. The survivors were doing what they could to resurrect the city from the rubble, but even if they rebuilt everything from the rudest slave hovel to the grandest noble House, it would never be the same.
Q'arlynd's House-House Melarn-was gone for good.
The college he was creating would fill that void, but unless today's experiment succeeded, Q'arlynd's dream might never come to fruition.
The hiss of a driftdisc halting in the hallway announced Piri's arrival.
Piri entered the experimentation chamber with a quick sideways step, his back against the wall. His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for hidden threats. No matter how safe the venue, Piri always seemed overly cautious. How much of this was his own nature and how much was the result of the quasit demon he'd bonded with was hard to say.
The demon's skin had replaced Piri's own, giving his face and hands an oily, greenish tinge. The bonding made Piri quicker and tougher, and resistant to both fire and ice, but it gave his eyes-already too close together above a beakish nose-an unsettling glint. His hair, cut close, stood up in white tufts that would eventually fuse into spikes.
Piri claimed to have complete mastery over the demon he'd bonded with-quasits were among the lowliest of demonic creatures-but Q'arlynd wondered if the wizard wasn't already regretting the bonding. Piri had been all too quick to abandon the College of Mages for Q'arlynd's as-yet unproven school.
Perhaps Piri hadn't been welcome at his former college, despite his skill in piecing together arcane texts.