Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [51]
"A 'web of silence,' " the other master said, quoting the ancient song. " 'And at its center, death.' " He looked up.
"So how does your deeper understanding of 'Faerzress fire' help us?"
"It doesn't-unless we can find a way to break the link between drow and Faerzress energy."
"A difficult undertaking," Urlryn observed.
"Yes. One that may take months-even years. Time we don't have." Seldszar locked his eyes on the other master. "Which is why I asked you here today. I propose an alliance of our two colleges. Pooling our respective talents is our best hope at finding the answer before it's too late. You will share with me the fruits of whatever your sages might discover-and I will do the same, with you." He paused. "Well? Will you agree to it?"
"I will." Urlryn bowed, his stomach straining the front of his vest. "You have my word on it."
A quick glance at the discernment sphere-which had darkened, but only slightly-told Seldszar the other master was telling the truth, for the most part. He would cooperate. For now.
"I thank you for your time," Seldszar told Urlryn. "And your ear. It's comforting to know that another master shares my concerns."
* * * * *
"Q'arlynd, what a pleasant surprise," Qiluй said. "I had wondered if I would see you again. Your departure from the Promenade a year and a half ago was somewhat… abrupt."
Q'arlynd, Eldrinn and the other two diviners bowed as the high priestesses entered the room. Qiluй was just as imposing-and beautiful-as Q'arlynd remembered. "I apologize for that, Lady Qiluй, but I had pressing business elsewhere," he said as he rose from his bow.
"You wound up in Sshamath, Miverra tells me."
"The city of wizards suits me, Lady. I've made my home there." This wouldn't be news to Qiluй. She would have scried him after he left the Promenade. Several times since then, the back of his neck had prickled, telling him that someone was looking at him from afar. Of course, that could have been Master Seldszar.
"Miverra also told me you've founded a school of wizardry there. Are these your apprentices?"
Q'arlynd noted-without directly looking at Eldrinn-that the boy's shoulders tensed. The other two wizards Master Seldszar had chosen for this mission were listening closely; they would have already noted the time Q'arlynd and Eldrinn had been spending together, and would wonder if the son was planning to step out from his father's shadow.
Q'arlynd smiled. "Having a school recognized as a college is the dream of every wizard in Sshamath," he said smoothly. "As for my 'school,' it's little more than a salon. A gathering of friends of the master's young son, here." He spread his hands. "I teach them what I can."
Qiluй's eyes locked on his. "Teleportation?"
"Among other things."
"You were very good at it, as I recall."
Q'arlynd tipped his head.
He wondered if the teleport he'd just performed had been a test, either of the Promenade's defenses or of the degree to which the increase in Faerzress energy was affecting Sshamath. Perhaps both. He supposed he'd passed. Despite the faerie fire that had erupted when he'd cast his spell, it had been a relatively easy jump. It helped that the room Miverra had shown him in her scrying was quite a distinctive chamber: circular, its walls ribbed with arched columns that met overhead, and with only the one exit. The floor was inlaid with thousands of chips of colored stone: a mosaic that showed drow females practicing swordplay.
Qiluй turned to the wizards who had accompanied him. "I am Lady Qiluй, high priestess of the Promenade, Chosen of Mystra. And these mages are…?"
Q'arlynd gestured at their most senior member. "Khorl Krissellian, sorcerer and farseer."
Khorl was a sun elf with pale skin and off-white hair. As he stepped forward and returned Qiluй's bow, his age-seamed face betrayed just a hint of haughtiness. He was nearly four centuries old and had lived the bulk of his life in Sshamath. Long enough to dress like a drow and be just as scheming, yet he still ranked drow one notch below the "true"