Ascendancy of the Last - By Lisa Smedman Page 0,34

I might find him? A chorus of voices answered from within the kiira. None held out any hope.

Perhaps he could ask Master Seldszar to attempt a scrying. But then he discarded the notion. Even if he teleported to the Conclave’s chamber this instant and somehow managed to convey what he needed without mentioning the duel and raising Seldszar’s ire, it would probably already be too late.

Piri would, most likely, already be dead.

Q’arlynd stared at the blood-soaked carpet a moment longer, then sighed. There had been no way to predict what had just happened, he told himself. He’d done everything he could to save his apprentice. The guilt he felt was a sign of weakness.

Something a master of a College couldn’t afford.

Not weakness, a female voice whispered from the lorestone. Compassion. Q’arlynd gave a mental shove, forcing his ancestor away. Sometimes the lorestone felt a little too close for comfort. Especially after what he’d just seen in Piri’s mind.

He walked to the cabinet, opened a drawer, and placed Eldrinn’s wand inside it. As he closed the drawer, a voice whispered into his ear. “Congratulations, Master Q’arlynd. The College of Ancient Arcana is officially recognized.”

It was Seldszar, communicating by magic. The diviner’s voice sounded clearly in the room. He was no doubt scryŹing on Q’arlynd and casting the spell through a font. This, despite the study’s magical protections. It had to be a delibŹerate intrusion, designed to remind Q’arlynd who the more powerful mage was.

“My thanks,” Q’arlynd answered. Steeling himself, he prepared to tell Seldszar about the duel. “Your son—”

“Yes. The duel,” the voice answered. “I just learned of it. I’ll take my pound of flesh from you later, for permitting Eldrinn to indulge in such foolishness. But just now, there’s work to be done. Urlryn demands a solution to the problem of the Faerzress.” He paused. “As do I.”

Q’arlynd bowed. “You’ll have your solution,” he promised. It was the truth—or at least, true enough to have passed any other divination Seldszar might have just cast. The memories of Q’arlynd’s ancestors, stored all these centuries within the kiira, did indeed hold the key to severing the bond that high magic had wrought between the drow and Faerzress. His ancestors not only knew what spells had been cast, but how to undo them.

The only thing they didn’t know was precisely where those spells had to be cast, in order for the bond to be undone. Nor had Seldszar’s divinations been able to solve the problem. But with luck—and the aid of a shipment that was on its way to Q’arlynd, even now, from distant Silverymoon—they would uncover that missing puzzle piece.

Q’arlynd hoped he was right. If he failed to deliver, Seldszar wasn’t going to be happy with him.

CHAPTER 5

Cavatina gaped at the strange landscape the portal had transported her to. It was as if she’d stepped into the heart of a huge mound of rubble. All around her, jagged pieces of gray stone crowded close on every side—except that the “stone” was blurred and indisŹtinct, and had no substance. When she swept her sword in front of her, the blade passed right through the stones, and when she took a step forward she slid through the rubble like a ghost.

Was she a ghost? She didn’t think so. Whatever this place was, it didn’t look a thing like the Fugue Plane. Nor could she hear Eilistraee’s welcoming song.

A curtain of bright silver shimmered behind her. It was about the size of a door and folded in a V that corresponded to the corner of the room she’d just stepped from. She touched it, and felt a crackling energy that slowed her fingers until it felt as if they were pressing on solid stone. The same thing occurred when she reached around the edge of the curtain and touched it from the other side. It appeared the portal only worked in one direcŹtion: from the Promenade to … here.

She glanced at her feet, and saw that she “stood” inside a chunk of stone. She felt a flat surface under the soles of her hoots—one that remained constant even when she lifted a foot and placed it on the edge of a rock. She couldn’t feel the sharp edge of the stone, but she could step up “onto” it. And though she sensed which way “down” was, she couldn’t feel it. When she leaned forward, it felt as if she still stood upright. Leaning backward produced the same result. Before she could stop herself, she was