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CHAPTER 5
Q'arlynd watched as the slaves manacled the chitine to the experimentation chamber's wall. Though the chitine wore the slave ring, it had a strong mind, highly resistant to enchantments. That might allow it to last a little longer than the other subjects, but strength of will made it difficult to handle; it kept shaking off Q'arlynd's mental control.
The chitine was thin and barely as tall as Q'arlynd's shoulder. In contrast, the gray-ski
Q'arlynd clenched his fist around his master ring. "No more of that!" he snapped at the grimlocks. "I need it awake and undamaged."
He forced the chitine to stand upright, and held its body still while the grimlocks completed their task. They were sightless creatures with only vestigial eyes. Though they couldn't see Q'arlynd standing with his arms folded, they could hear his impatient foot tap and smell his irritation. Q'arlynd knew this would be his last chance to experiment on the kiira before being sent away.
The chitine at last secure, the grimlocks turned and bowed to their master. Each cocked an oversized ear in his direction, awaiting his command. Blood dribbled down the injured one's arm and puddled on the floor.
"Go to the kitchen," Q'arlynd ordered. "Have the cook wash out that wound and bind it. Then eat; there's fresh meat for both of you."
The grimlocks broke into wide grins. They bobbed their heads and hurried from the room, heads tipping this way and that as they listened for the sounds of their footsteps echoing back off the walls.
Eldri
He shook his head. "Wash and bind the wound? You're coddling those grimlocks. That wound will heal by itself."
Q'arlynd gestured at their captive. "Look at the chitine's hands; they're filthy. The wound could fester. No sense in wasting a good slave."
Eldri
"Slaves are expensive."
"So what? We can afford a dozen of them."
Q'arlynd sighed. The younger wizard had an intuitive grasp of magic that was well beyond his training and years, but what he knew about handling slaves wouldn't have filled a bunghole. Loyalty had to be built, one brick at a time. It couldn't be beaten into a slave. Whippings only produced fear and resentment-and a smoldering desire for revenge. Something Q'arlynd had learned early in life, as a boy in House Melarn.
Eldri
Seldszar Elpragh had paid for the expensive spell that had cured his son, then raged at the boy for going off, with only one soldier accompanying him, to indulge in "pointless poking about" in the ruins of the High Moor. He'd cut off Eldri
Q'arlynd had to agree, but for different reasons. Eldri
Which was precisely why Q'arlynd had encouraged the boy to participate in his experiments on the kiira, and why he kept Eldri
All he had to put up with in return were Eldri
Q'arlynd walked over to the chitine and grabbed the creature by the hair. It opened its eyes and strained at its manacles, hissing. Baring its teeth and clicking its curved mandibles, it attempted, futilely, to bite Q'arlynd's arm.
Q'arlynd examined the back of the creature's head. "No real damage done." He released the hair and stepped back.
"You should have whipped the grimlocks, just the same. Both of them."
Q'arlynd ignored the younger male's comment. He didn't want to get caught up in another lengthy debate. Too much rested on this experiment. "What about the others? Are they on their way?"
Eldri
"Good."
Eldri
"No."
"But she's one of the most promising apprentices the College of Conjuration has. She created a sigil that-"
"We've been through this before," Q'arlynd said. "No." He knew why the boy wanted him to invite the female wizard to join their fledgling school: he was her consort. Which was exactly the reason Q'arlynd didn't want her. He didn't need her bedding any of the others, stirring up petty jealousies.
Eldri
Q'arlynd tapped his foot impatiently. As they waited for the others, he performed an exploratory thrust into the mind of the chitine, ignoring the faerie fire that sparked from his temples as he did so. The chitine's mind was difficult to penetrate-and brutal to remain in, once he was inside.
Hate you, the creature raged back at him. Kill you, filthy drows. Hook open stomach, spill your feces. Kill-
Enough. Satisfied that he would be able to retain contact, Q'arlynd withdrew.
He stared at the creature, wondering why the wizards of Ched Nasad had ever bothered to create such a loathsome race. When Q'arlynd was a novice, chitines had been plentiful; the breeding pits of the Conservatory had been full of them. The masters used to set dozens free each year, to provide sport for the hunt. But now that Ched Nasad lay in ruins, chitines weren't being bred any more. And those that had escaped were hunting drow.
The chitine was a living reminder of Ched Nasad's former prowess at magic. As for Q'arlynd's former home, it had fallen during Lolth's Silence. Literally fallen to pieces, leaving only a rubble-choked cavern where a city of thirty thousand drow had once stood. The survivors were doing what they could to resurrect the city from the rubble, but even if they rebuilt everything from the rudest slave hovel to the grandest noble House, it would never be the same.