Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [46]
Then it came to him. Drawing himself up, he spoke imperiously, like a matron mother addressing a boy. "You're alive, Eldrinn," he said sternly. "Any other drow would have slain you-or left you to fend for yourself on the High Moor, fodder for the monsters that prowl there. I, however, not only saved you, but invited to share with you whatever knowledge the kiira held. And where is your gratitude?"
The other mages were staring at Eldrinn. The sava board had been turned. The boy winced. He opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered a grudging apology. "Sorry, Q'arlynd."
Q'arlynd acknowledged it with a nod, then turned to the others. "Did any of you see me put the kiira back?"
"You must have," Baltak said. "It's gone."
"Yes, but did you see me?"
"Not directly," Eldrinn said, finding his voice again. "But only a few moments elapsed between the time you teleported away and my scrying; you probably teleported straight here. When I saw you in the font, you were standing with your palm pressed to the door, as if you'd just pushed it shut."
"So you're not certain I opened the door," Q'arlynd said. "Perhaps the kiira is still on me, or somewhere nearby. Search me."
"All right." Eldrinn pulled a piece of forked twig from his pocket and whispered a quick incantation. He held the twig above Q'arlynd's head, then ran it down first the front of his body, then the back.
"You don't have it," he concluded. "And…" He turned in a circle. "It's not here. At least, not on this side of the door."
Q'arlynd's heart raced. "So I 'put it back,' did I?" He turned slowly toward Kraanfhaor's Door. If it turned out to be what he suspected, knowledge beyond his wildest dreams was his for the taking. "That's an odd choice of words-one which makes me wonder what this door opens onto. A library with dozens of ancient kiira? Hundreds? Thousands?" He paused for breath, barely able to restrain himself from laughing out loud in delight. If this door could be opened, it wouldn't matter if the College of Divination fell. Beyond the door was a treasure trove he could use to purchase all of the power and prestige any wizard could ever desire.
Assuming he was right about what lay behind it.
He glanced at the others and smiled as he saw parted lips and gleams in their eyes. Even Zarifar was paying attention. So was Alexa, but that couldn't be helped. Q'arlynd would have to invite her to join his college as his fifth apprentice, after all, to ensure her silence. Fortunately the ring was in his pocket. He might need it to test her potential loyalty.
"Instead of squabbling about who had the lorestone first," he suggested, "we should ask ourselves a more important question." He rapped a hand against the door. "How do we get this open again?"
Eldrinn nudged the empty stonefire bomb with a toe. "It's supposedly impossible."
"Wrong," Q'arlynd said. "I just opened it, didn't I? And if you had the kiira before me, Eldrinn, you must have gotten it from somewhere-perhaps by also opening the door. We just need to figure out how it's done."
He turned to the others. "Piri, I want you to study that text you read for other clues. Baltak, you can try assuming different shapes; perhaps the door is keyed to a particular race. Alexa can provide teleportation back and forth between Sshamath and here. Assuming, that is, she's willing to join our school and not tell anyone else about the door."
Alexa nodded briskly.
"And Zarifar can…" Q'arlynd paused. The geometer mage stared dreamily at a spot above Kraanfhaor's Door, idly tracing a pattern in the air with his finger. "Zarifar can study the door's… patterns. Or something. Eldrinn and I will be away for a time on the trade mission, but I'll