Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [44]
The puzzle of why someone would do that only briefly took his mind off the central question of where he was and how he'd gotten there. The last thing he could remember was talking to Eldrinn and the others he'd invited to join his school. They'd been standing in Eldrinn's residence in Sshamath, in the experimentation chamber, waiting for the two grimlock slaves to manacle a chitine to the wall so they could perform an experiment with the…
Q'arlynd stared up at the ceiling, searching for the word.
It floated just beyond his grasp. Something small, and pointed, and…
It was gone again.
Eldrinn. Whatever the experiment was, it had something to do with him.
Q'arlynd closed his eyes and tried to think. His thoughts kept circling back to when he'd found the boy wandering on the High Moor in the ruins of ancient Talthalaran. Eldrinn had been struck with a feeblemind spell, and couldn't remember anything about… something,
Q'arlynd felt his face pale. Had the same thing happened to him?
Words came to him then. A sentence that rattled in his head like a pebble in an empty cup. He said it aloud. "Must get it back."
He frowned. Must get what back? And to where?
He turned to the door. Twice as high as he was tall, it was carved with an unusual design: elves and dragons, standing side by side and holding scrolls, as if they were casting spells. A single word, written in archaic High Drowic, arched above the design. It looked like a name: "Kraanfhaor."
The door had no handle or hinges. More properly, it was a slab of stone. Yet Q'arlynd somehow knew it was a door. He touched its surface with his knuckles and spoke a simple, one-word spell: "Obsul!"
Nothing happened. Oddly, that was just what he'd expected.
A voice echoed down the corridor behind him, startling him. "Q'arlynd!"
Eldrinn's voice. He obviously knew Q'arlynd was there. Maybe he'd know why.
Q'arlynd heard footsteps hurrying toward him.
"Q'arlynd, are you there?" asked a different male voice.
He turned and saw Eldrinn running up the corridor, followed by Baltak and Zarifar. Piri was farther back, making his way along the corridor with caution. Alexa, the female Eldrinn was consort to, was also with them. She was about Eldrinn's age, with bangs cut in a severe line across her forehead, and a wide mouth. She wore a leather apron smudged with yellow sulfur and streaks of red ochre. It looked as though she'd just stepped from a magical laboratory. She halted just behind the others and stood with her hands on her hips.
"Well, boys," she said in a voice that was husky from inhaling the smoke of her experiments. "You've found him. Can I get back to my potions, now?"
"In a moment, Alexa," Eldrinn said. He stared at the door, an odd look on his face. "It's the same one we saw," he whispered.
The others nodded.
Eldrinn tore his eyes away from the door and stepped closer to Q'arlynd. "Are you all right?"
Q'arlynd opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I really have no idea." He glanced down at himself. His body, at least, looked normal enough. Am I? he wondered.
Baltak stepped between them. "Why'd you teleport away?"
Q'arlynd simply stared at him. So that was how he got there. By teleporting.
Calm. He had to stay calm.
Piri sidled up to them. "You said something." He stared at the door, but his eyes kept sliding toward Q'arlynd's forehead. " 'I've got to put it back,' you said. Then you vanished."
Alexa stepped closer. "Put what back?"
Eldrinn caught Q'arlynd's eye; he looked worried. "Sorry," the boy muttered. "Everyone insisted on coming. We needed a teleportation circle to get us all here, and the nearest one was in the College of Conjuration. We needed Alexa's help to activate it-even so, it took three tries to get it to work. I wasn't trying to force your hand by bringing her. Honest."
"I see," Q'arlynd said. He didn't, though. He understood that Eldrinn was worried about him getting angry, and that Alexa shouldn't be there. But why-and just where there was-remained a mystery.