The ghost-Crone turned, her pale face a study in rage. Her features stretched, thinned, became even more ghastly. When the priestess shrieked, Halisstra could feel waves of magical fear billowing toward her. Her body, however, was a rock that parted this chill current. The magical fear skewed off to each side, leaving her unscathed.
Halisstra taunted the spirit in silent speech. Kill me. Lolth dares you to try.
Mention of the goddess's name maddened the spirit. She howled loud enough to send a tremble through the stone on which Halisstra stood. Something hit the ground next to Halisstra's foot in utter silence, exploding into white fragments: a skull. Halisstra glanced up. The building she'd just exited stood in an enormous cavern with a knobby white ceiling. Loosened by the ghost's wailing, other skulls tumbled from it. Through this ghastly rain, the ghost drifted forward.
Halisstra threw open her arms in invitation.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the gray-robed females pounce on a body that had just rolled into view out of nowhere. As the female bent, a sword blade skewered her eye and exploded out of the back of her skull. The blade yanked back, disappearing. A drow leaped into view through an invisible gate-a female who was naked, bruised, and holding a singing sword.
Cavatina. She had escaped the Abyss!
The Darksong Knight's eyes locked accusingly on Halisstra, who made out the word without hearing it: "You!"
Halisstra whirled and sprinted back to the hollowed-out building. The ghostly Crone flew after her-moving faster than Halisstra had anticipated. Just as Halisstra reached the doorway, the ghost struck her back and flowed through her, boiling out of her chest in a chill white cloud.
Emptiness rushed into Halisstra in an icy wave, draining her of all sensation. She stumbled and fell. As she tumbled through the air toward the black sphere, she saw Cavatina bearing down on the ghost from behind, sword in one hand, holy symbol in the other, her body and weapon wreathed in twined auras of radiance and shadow. Then the Darksong Knight thrust her sword into the ghost's back. The ghost whirled, Cavatina's blade still within her spinning torso, and plunged her dagger into Cavatina's throat.
For the space of a heartbeat, the two glared at one another, eye to eye. Then the ghost exploded into a thousand fragments of mist. Cavatina slumped to the ground, blood pumping from her throat. And Halisstra was sucked into the void.
Q'arlynd traced the House Melarn glyph on the door with a forefinger. Just as Zarifar had observed, it resembled a dancing drow: triangle head; two strokes down for arms, one hand turned down, the other up; two angled strokes that were bent legs, each ending in a crescent representing a foot.
Q'arlynd lowered his hands. He waited for the door to open, barely daring to breathe. This was it, the moment he'd been striving toward for so long. A moment more, and wealth unheard of would fall into his hands.
He kept watch on his five apprentices. He'd ushered them all to his right, to a spot where he could watch for sudden moves. Each looked tense, expectant. Even Zarifar leaned forward, eyes on the door.
For several painfully long moments, there was only silence.
"Huh," Baltak grunted. "It didn't work."
Q'arlynd wet his lips. He could see that. He'd try again. He raised his hand and touched the door…
And felt a bulge rise under his fingertip. A bulge with a sharp point.
A kiira! Expelled from the door.
With trembling fingers, he eased it out of the block of carved stone. Gleaming crimson against his dark fingers, hexagonal in cross section, it was half the length of his little finger and tapered to a point at each end.
Eldrinn's hand twitched in a silent gesture: the betrayal Q'arlynd had been fearing, but from an unexpected source. With a thought, Q'arlynd activated his ring, rendering all of his apprentices rigid. Then he shook his head. "Eldrinn. I never thought you'd be the one to-"
"Cahal!" Piri cried. He lunged forward and slapped a hand against Q'arlynd's cheek-a bare-fingered hand.
Q'arlynd leaped away from Piri, but too late. The left side of his face was already numb. A cold, prickling sensation spread down his neck, toward his heart. Poison! It didn't fell him, however. As a boy, Q'arlynd had been deliberately exposed to several common poisons to inoculate him against the worst of their sting.
Piri's surprise at seeing Q'arlynd still on his feet gave Q'arlynd the instant he needed. He scrabbled at his pocket, found the fur-wrapped sliver of glass. He thrust it at Piri and shouted an evocation. Lightning burst from his hand, striking the other wizard in the chest.
Piri reeled back, clutching at the spot where his demon skin had been blasted away to expose raw red flesh. He raised his hand to cast a spell, but Q'arlynd's second lightning bolt slammed into him before he could complete it. Piri crashed into the wall, then slumped at the feet of the other apprentices, dead. Still frozen by the enchantment, they stared past him at the spot where Q'arlynd stood.
Q'arlynd glared at them, silently daring the rest of them to attempt what Piri just had. The poison had spread to his left arm; the fingers of that hand felt thick and unresponsive. But the poison had halted its spread after numbing that one arm. It wasn't strong enough to kill him.
The remaining four apprentices could see and hear him, even if they couldn't move or respond. Q'arlynd glanced down at Piri. Wisps of smoke rose from Piri's chest, filling the air with a burned-meat smell. Q'arlynd patted down the apprentice's pockets and found his ring.
"What he just did," he told the others in a flat voice as he tucked Piri's ring into a pocket, "was stupid." With his good hand, he lifted the kiira up where they could see it. "I promised to share the secrets of this lorestone with you. I'll keep that promise, but only if I can trust you. Your actions, when the enchantment I just cast on you wears off, will determine whether I keep that promise. In the meantime, please reflect on the fact that I'm the master of this school, and you four who remain are mere apprentices. Conduct yourselves accordingly."
Q'arlynd stared into the depths of the kiira and took a deep breath. Did he dare touch it to his forehead? Would the lorestone feeblemind him or rip all memory of what had just transpired from his mind?
He could feel an awareness pressing against his. Eldrinn's. The boy's mind was filled with anger and outrage. A single thought forced its way through: I tried to warn you about Piri. I saw him remove his ring.
Q'arlynd's eyebrow rose. "Did you?" He'd been wrong about the boy; Eldrinn hadn't been about to cast a spell. He stood, stroking his chin, debating whether to release Eldrinn. The enchantment that rooted his apprentices to the spot would keep them out of mischief, but if anything went wrong in the meantime, the boy just might be able to help.
Q'arlynd touched Eldrinn's forehead, releasing him. "Stand over there," he instructed. "Keep silent and observe."
Eldrinn nodded. He did exactly as he was told.
Q'arlynd took a deep breath. Then he touched the kiira to his forehead.
A presence exploded into his mind, filling it. His own awareness became a small, slippery thing. A tiny minnow, swimming blindly up the vast current of time. The other awareness swept toward him: an enormous entity, swollen with knowledge. Powerful and ancient. Thousands upon thousands of memories, twined into a single sentience. Q'arlynd's intellect-the acquired knowledge of a century-was but a dim candle compared to the fierce red blaze of its combined wisdom. It blinded him, shrank his own paltry thoughts to insignificant shadows.
But at the same time, it welcomed him and made him warm.
Q'arlynd Melarn?