Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [53]
Q'arlynd gave a slight nod-just enough to be polite.
"Ah yes," Gilkriz said. "I remember now. Isn't this the wizard who rescued you after your disastrous journey to the surface? The trip that left you a feeblewit?" His derisive chuckle was echoed by the slight twist of Jyzrill's and Mazeer's lips.
Eldrinn's nostrils flared. "I-"
"Say nothing, Eldrinn," Q'arlynd interrupted. "They're trying to learn now what their spies failed to uncover earlier. One of their wizards probably faces a similar problem, himself-and they don't know what to do about it."
Eldrinn had the good sense to smile knowingly.
Voices filled the space behind them. Q'arlynd glanced back at the double doors where Qiluй still stood. Striding through them was a statuesque female Q'arlynd recognized at once: Cavatina, slayer of Selvetarm. Six females followed her: five drow and surprisingly, a halfling who wore the full vestments of Eilistraee's faith. The priestesses deferred to Cavatina with every gesture, their expressions filled with awe.
Mixed into the priestesses' ranks were an equal number of Nightshadows: six in all. Though the males walked with the priestesses, they conveyed the impression of being separate from them. They kept sneaking glances at Cavatina-their expressions wary rather than worshipful.
Q'arlynd was instantly on alert. He scanned the Nightshadows' faces, looking for signs that any had recognized him, but the glances they gave him were bland. They paid no more attention to him than they did to any of the other mages.
The thin, muscular male was obviously the Nightshadows' leader. He was dressed all in black. A mask covered much of his face. An old scar puckered his left eye. His long stride compelled Cavatina to speed up in order to keep ahead of him.
Q'arlynd gave a mental head shake. Just like the wizards, the clerics and priestesses were trying to one-up each other. Factions within factions.
He glanced at Qiluй. As always, her expression was impassive. She watched the newcomers sort themselves out. Then she shut the double doors and strode to the front of the hall.
Aside from Cavatina-and Daffir, whose height made him tower above the drow males-Qiluй was the tallest in the room. When she held her hands above her head, the murmurs fell away.
"A song of welcome," she ordered, "for the mages of Sshamath."
The females broke into song. The male clerics joined in a heartbeat later. They sang in low voices, as if unused to talking above a whisper. Their leader studied the wizards as he sang. He actually met their eyes-a rarity, for a Nightshadow.
When the song ended, Qiluй nodded at Cavatina. "For most of you, the priestess who will lead this expedition needs no introduction. But those from Sshamath may not know her." She waved Cavatina forward. "The Darksong Knight Cavatina, slayer of Selvetarm."
Q'arlynd glanced at his fellow mages. Their lips parted slightly, their eyes widened. Only Khorl remained unmoved. Eldrinn stared like a smitten house boy until Q'arlynd nudged him.
Cavatina, poised as a statue, glanced down her nose at the group. Her eyes briefly lingered on Q'arlynd-she obviously recognized him-but she made no move to acknowledge him.
Qiluй stepped back a pace. "Cavatina will tell you what lies ahead. May the Masked Lady bless you all and watch over you." That said, she vanished.
Q'arlynd was tempted to pull his crystal out of his pocket and sneak a glance through it to see if the high priestess had really teleported away-or if she lingered nearby, watching invisibly-but that was only idle curiosity. He studied Cavatina instead. He'd met her only briefly, nearly two years ago. He wanted to get a sense of what she'd be like as a leader.
The Darksong Knight was not one to waste time with formal greetings. "You all know our mission," she told them. "To halt whatever's augmenting the Faerzress. We believe the cause to lie within Kiaransalee's