Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [41]
Baltak grinned. He strode over to the chitine, pulled a cloth from his pocket, and used it to wipe away the oily film that covered the creature's forehead. "Problem solved," he said, tossing the cloth aside. He held up the kiira. "Let's do it."
"On my signal," Q'arlynd reminded them, lifting his hand. He waited while the others linked minds with him, and forced his way into the chitine's thoughts once more. At his signal, Baltak pressed the crystal to the creature's forehead-hard enough to hurt it-and stepped back.
A rush of images tumbled into Q'arlynd's mind, and through it, into the minds of the four wizards linked with him. The towers of a surface city. A brown-skinned face. A portion of a complex hand gesture. A stone door. A series of pages that flew through the chitine's mind as if they were blown by a howling storm, faster and fasterandfasterand…
Intense pain flared in Q'arlynd's temples as he was forcibly ejected from the chitine's mind. In the same instant he heard the clatter of chains. The chitine hung from its manacles, dead. A thin gray powder trickled out of its nostrils and drifted to the floor: the contents of its skull, instantly seared to ash.
Baltak shook his head. "Mother's blood. That hurt."
Eldrinn blinked rapidly, spellbook forgotten in his lap. Zarifar shivered. Piri pressed his back tightly to the wall and whispered a protective spell.
Q'arlynd's jaw clenched in frustration. The chitine was dead-just like the last test subject. He strode over to it and yanked the slave ring from its limp finger.
"Well?" he asked the others. "Did any of you manage to read those pages?"
Eldrinn and Piri shook their heads.
Baltak shrugged. "They went by too fast for me."
Zarifar fluttered his hands as if trying to recapture the pattern he'd seen. "Like… cave moths. Left… right…"
Eldrinn repeated the gesture they'd just seen, crossing the middle two fingers of his right hand and whipping his extended thumb in a tight circle. Q'arlynd watched expectantly. The boy had read a number of arcane texts, perhaps he recognized the spell it belonged to.
"Well?"
Eldrinn's hand fell. "Sorry. I've no idea what it means."
Q'arlynd gave a tight, frustrated nod.
"Those towers… were they in Talthalaran?" Baltak asked.
"They might have been," Q'arlynd said. "But that's not going to help us much. The city was blasted down to its foundations."
"Maybe we should search the ruins," Baltak said. "Perhaps there's another kiira in-"
"There isn't," Q'arlynd snapped. "But you're welcome to go look for yourself, if you like."
That shut Baltak up.
"That door," Zarifar said. "There were…" His voice trailed off. As usual, he didn't complete his thought. His forefinger traced a line through the air. "Patterns."
Q'arlynd sighed in frustration. This wasn't getting them anywhere.
"The door…" Eldrinn said softly. "I…"
Q'arlynd turned. The distant look was back in Eldrinn's eyes again. "Did you recognize it, Eldrinn? Have you seen it before?"
Eldrinn's eyes cleared. He jumped out of his chair and paced across the room. "I wish I knew!" As he passed the chitine, he halted and wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"
"Death," Q'arlynd answered. The chitine had voided its bowels when it died, and the room stank. He felt sorry for the creature, vicious little brute though it was. He reminded himself of the necessity of its sacrifice. At least the death he'd given it had been swift-quicker than it would have suffered at the hands of hunters or one of Lolth's priestesses.
"What's next?" Baltak asked. "Buy another slave and try again?"
Q'arlynd shook his head. "That will have to wait. Eldrinn and I will be departing soon. We'll be away for… a while."
Eldrinn nodded. "Father's orders. A trade mission to Sschindylryn, on behalf of the college."
Baltak nodded at the kiira. "But that's staying here, right? The rest of us can carry on, while you're gone."
"No," Q'arlynd replied. "In the College of Ancient Arcana, we work together. Or not at all."
Baltak shrugged but