Lisa Smedman - Storm of the Dead

"Is something wrong?" Karas asked.

Cavatina realized she was letting her worry show. "I don't know. Lady Qilue didn't seem…" She closed her mouth, declining to say more. Karas had proven himself, but confiding her fears to him didn't feel appropriate, even though he shared her command. "We're done here. We're to return to the Promenade-promptly. Qilue probably has another mission for us."

"The Masked Lady's will be done," Karas murmured. His eyes, however, didn't match his tone. There was a gleam to them that made Cavatina wary.

He started to turn away, but Cavatina planted herself in his path. "What is it, Karas?" she demanded. "What are you thinking?"

He hesitated. Then shrugged. "Only that Lady Qilue is growing more like a Nightshadow each day. She's playing her sava pieces very close to her chest. I find that… amusing."

Cavatina took a deep breath. Karas was up to his old tricks again. Trying to provoke her into an argument. "I don't," she answered flatly. "But it's the way things are now. We're all going to have to get used to it. Make the best of our new partners and continue the dance as best we can."

Karas's eyebrows rose slightly. "Out of the light, into the shadows-back and forth, as the Masked Lady wills it."

"Yes."

Their eyes met, locked, then, as if at some unspoken command, both turned away.

Q'arlynd strode into the dining hall, surprised that Seldszar had agreed to meet with him at a time that would interrupt the master's supper. Judging by the extra place that had been laid at the table, Seldszar was expecting someone else to join him. Q'arlynd would have to come quickly to the point before that person arrived.

The elder wizard set down his fork and stared up at Q'arlynd through the crystal spheres that orbited his head. If he noted the invisible kiira affixed to Q'arlynd's forehead, he gave no sign. "You wanted to speak to me?"

Q'arlynd bowed. "I wanted to compliment you, Master Seldszar, on solving the problem of the faerie fire."

Master Seldszar frowned. "There is work yet to be done. The Faerzress that has sprung up outside our city presents new challenges."

"Indeed. But at least the effect is no longer increasing. The 'scouting expedition' put an end to that."

"So it did." The frown deepened. "Unfortunately, not before the College of Divination was greatly weakened."

Q'arlynd carefully hid his flinch. He did his best not to think about having abandoned the mission. "Ours wasn't the only college to suffer," he pointed out. "The College of Conjuration and Summoning also faces challenges. Its master is being held responsible for the fact that teleportation in and out of the city is no longer possible."

"That's true. But you didn't come here to tell me what I already know."

Q'arlynd bowed his head in agreement. "I understand you and Master Urlryn are working together on your mutual problem? Trying to find a way to break the link between drow and Faerzress?"

Master Seldszar's eyebrows rose. "You've been making enquiries. Either that or your scrying skills have improved."

"The former," Q'arlynd said. "A source within the College of Conjuration and Summoning."

"My son's consort?"

Q'arlynd smiled.

"You didn't come here to tell me that, either. Please come to the point."

Q'arlynd glanced at the bottle of fungus wine that stood on the massive dining table, wishing he could wet his lips with it. He took a deep breath, instead. "What if I were to tell you I've been speaking with dark elves from the distant past-from the time of ancient Miyeritar? With those who have first-hand knowledge of how the link between dark elves and Faerzress was forged, and who want to see it undone?"

Master Seldszar was no longer even glancing at his spheres. "I'd listen. Very carefully." He gestured at the seat across the table from him. "Sit. Pour yourself some wine."

Q'arlynd did as instructed. He took a polite sip of the wine, then set his goblet down, "You've noted the kiira on my forehead?"

"The moment you walked into the dining hall." Seldszar's eyes glittered. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "I thank you for recovering it."

Q'arlynd refused to be intimidated.

"It can be worn only by a descendant of House Melarn," he warned Seldszar. "Since the fall of Ched Nasad, there is only one surviving member of that House. Me. If anyone else were to wear this kiira, they'd wind up as Eldrinn did, that time I fetched him home from the High Moor. A drooling idiot." Q'arlynd cocked his head. "Hardly a fit state for the master of a college, wouldn't you say?"

Master Seldszar leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on Q'arlynd's. "What do you want?"

"I've founded a school. I want it recognized as a college. I want a seat on the Conclave. To achieve that, I'm going to need a nomination from a master. From you."

"And if I refuse?"

Q'arlynd shrugged. "Then I'll speak to Master Urlryn instead."

Seldszar laughed, startling Q'arlynd.

"You wonder what I find so amusing," Seldszar said. "What if I were to tell you I'd already heard this conversation, once before?" He flicked a finger at his spheres. "That it was a little obscured by the sizzle of faerie fire, but that I'd gotten the gist of it, just the same. That I gave my staff of divination to Daffir not because I thought he might need it, but because I knew you'd need it. That I knew there was a selu'kiira waiting within Kraanfhaor's Door that I might claim, myself, once you've shown me how. What would you say then?"

Q'arlynd raised his eyebrows. "I'd say the alliance between our respective colleges appears to be a foregone conclusion."

Master Seldszar smiled and raised his goblet. "Are you still planning on calling yours the College of Ancient Arcana?"

"How did you know that? Did Eldrinn…" Q'arlynd realized what a foolish question that was, and laughed. He clinked his goblet against Seldszar's. "To alliances."

Kiaransalee's dust-dry face creaked as she grimaced. She glared down at the masked Priestess piece Eilistraee had just moved. "You think you can flank me?" she cackled. "Think again."

With a shove of a bony hand, she pushed one of her own Priestess pieces forward to block the move. The piece wavered as she released it, twisting like a wisp of smoke. It looked as though a breath might blow it apart. And yet Eilistraee could sense, even from a distance, that it contained a will as solid and unshakable as stone.

Swiftly, Kiaransalee moved a second piece-a smaller Priestess, sculpted from putrid gray flesh-into a flanking position. Then she sat back on the marble tombstone that served as her chair, her bony, ring-bedecked fingers resting on her knees. She stared smugly at Lolth, gesturing at the piece she'd just blocked. "Your move. If your demon-Warrior attacks her other Priestess, she won't be able to counter it without losing this one."

Lolth made no comment. She waved a hand above the sava board, using the webs that trailed from it to brush away the mold that had fallen from Kiaransalee's tattered robe. As Lolth's hand moved toward her demonic Warrior piece, Kiaransalee cackled in anticipation. When Lolth instead picked up the Priestess piece with the spider legs protruding from its chest, and moved it to flank the pieces Kiaransalee had moved, the lichlike goddess's yellowed teeth snapped shut.

"What are you doing?" Kiaransalee cried. A withered finger stabbed at Eilistraee's Priestess piece, rocking it slightly. "You've just given that piece an escape!"

"How cunning of you, Kiaransalee, to point out the perfectly obvious," Lolth said. One white eyebrow arched. "And how stupid of you to think I would play on your side."

Eilistraee too was startled by Lolth's move. She searched for a trap in it, but saw none. Her Priestess piece could easily take Lolth's Warrior piece. Was this what Lolth had intended? Did the Spider Queen mean to deliberately sacrifice it, just as she had done with Selvetarm?