Ascendancy of the Last (The Lady Penitent Book 3) by Lisa Smedman

Author:Lisa Smedman [Smedman, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786956708
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

Q’arlynd nodded to the three seated masters and set the decanter on the low table, next to the goblet that already stood there. The decanter’s cut-glass contours sparkled, reflecting the glimmer of the blue-white faerie fire that danced across the ceiling of Master Seldszar’s scrying room. The wine the decanter held was a rich ruby red. Even with the crystal stopper in place, Q’arlynd could smell its heady bouquet. The fragrance tugged at his mind, causing his thoughts to wander to …

He shook his head and stepped back from the ankle-high table. “Gorgondy wine,” he announced.

Master Urlryn leaned forward on his cushion to examine the decanter. The golden goblet hanging against his chest swung forward slightly on its mithral chain. He caught it before it could strike the decanter. “I wonder …—If my goblet samples a little, might I be able to alter the vessel’s enchantment so that it produces gorgondy wine upon command?”

Master Seldszar interrupted the study of the spheres orbiting his head just long enough to give Urlryn a cautionary look. “There’s only one draught. We’ll need it. All of it.”

Urlryn settled back on his cushion, which flattened under his weight. A smile briefly played across his face, causing his jowls to twitch. “A pity. Gorgondy is worth its weight in mithral.”

As the two masters bantered, Q’arlynd circled to the only available cushion. He stepped cautiously to avoid bumping Urlryn’s phantasmal guard dog with his foot. He knew where it sat: a sheen of drool marked the pale green chrysolite tiles on the floor. He seated himself across the table from the third master and placed his hands flat against his bent knees, where the others could easily see his fingers. Masters only trusted each other so far. Keeping one’s hands visible and unmoving was a sign of good faith.

The master on the opposite side of the table—Master Masoj—was as lean and wiry as Urlryn was corpulent. Masoj kept the front half of his scalp shaved. The bone white hair capping the back of his head hung in a single braid that touched the floor behind his cushion. Glittering dust covered his face, neck, and hands—and, presumably, the rest of his body under his clothes and boots—a protective abjuration capable of deflecting even the most powerful spells. Q’arlynd imagined it must feel gritty and uncomfortable, especially in the armpits and groin. But perhaps the Master of Abjuration had a spell that would negate that.

Q’arlynd noted—without looking directly at Masoj’s forehead—that it was smooth, without indentation. He wondered if Masoj was one of the two who’d been promised the chance to claim a kiira. Seldszar was playing his pieces close to his chest on that one. Even Q’arlynd didn’t know which two masters, besides Seldszar, were descended from Miyeritari stock.

Seldszar sat with his arms folded. Even though they hid the largest of the eyes embroidered on his piwafwi, the other eyes all seemed to stare vigilantly in every direction at once. Seldszar’s own eyes—a strange, pale yellow—remained fixed on the crystal spheres orbiting his head.

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