Klizik halted, uncertain.

Fortunately, a customer chose that moment to half-drop a clearstone on a shelf with a loud clunk. Q'arlynd glanced sharply in his direction. When Miverra turned as well, Q'arlynd signed at Klizik a second time. Set it aside. I'll buy it later.

A calculating look flickered-briefly-across Klizik's face. He realized Q'arlynd was up to something. The price of the chitine had probably just gone up.

Q'arlynd picked up the clearstone Miverra had been staring at and snapped his fingers at Klizik, as if he'd only just noticed the merchant. "How much for this one?"

As Klizik told him the price, Miverra frowned. "You own slaves?"

Q'arlynd winked at her. "Only for as long as it takes to teleport outside the city and set them free," he whispered back.

Her expression immediately softened.

The price Klizik had just quoted was inflated, but Q'arlynd didn't bother haggling. He fished coins out of his pouch, handed them over, and took the goblin.

"How many have you freed?" Miverra whispered.

"I couldn't begin to count them," Q'arlynd said breezily. She showed no signs of faerie fire, so it was probably safe to lie. "Why, only yesterday, I purchased two grimlocks."

"You teleported them outside the city?"

"Of course. Otherwise they'd be recaptured."

"Far from the city?"

There was a purpose behind her question, but Q'arlynd couldn't discern it. "Far enough." He tucked the clearstone under his arm and turned toward the door. "Let's go somewhere a little less public, shall we?" he suggested. "Somewhere we can… talk."

He noted the shiver of anticipation that passed through her and the slight dilation of her pupils. The priestess was pathetically easy to read.

Rather boring, really. He just hoped whatever information he gleaned would be worth it.

As they neared the door, Q'arlynd touched Miverra's arm, slowing her. "There's a wizard outside who's spying on you."

Miverra nodded. "I noticed him earlier. White robes-a necromancer."

Q'arlynd's opinion of her went up a notch. Miverra wasn't quite as naive as she seemed.

"Should I be concerned? Is he a threat?"

"Personally, I wouldn't want Master Tsabrak taking an interest in me."

"Why not?"

Q'arlynd lowered his voice, as if revealing a confidence. In fact, Master Tsabrak's predilection was an open secret among the higher-ranking wizards of Sshamath's other colleges. Even Eldrinn had heard of it. "He's a vampire."

Miverra's eyes widened slightly. She really was too easy to read.

"Will it cause problems for you to be seen with me?" she asked.

Q'arlynd shrugged, then gave her a coy smile. "Even if it does, I'm sure it will be worth it."

She nodded. "Then play along with me. When we step outside, pretend to say goodbye. Be sure to bow."

They exited the slave house, and Q'arlynd did as instructed. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady," he said, bowing. "May your stay in Sshamath be a pleasant one."

Miverra echoed his farewell and bowed, one hand briefly touching her chest-and her holy symbol. Then she straightened and strode away. The necromancer hesitated, glanced between Q'arlynd and the departing Miverra, and followed her into the crowd.

A moment later, Miverra's body shimmered back into view beside Q'arlynd. None of the people streaming by took any notice; they were used to wizards teleporting back and forth across the city.

"Well played," Q'arlynd said, "but I thought Eilistraee's faithful preferred a more direct approach when dealing with threats."

Miverra shrugged. Her eyes were almost level with his; she wasn't much taller than he was. "Things have changed. The goddess offers us a wider range of choices now."

"Let's leave before the necromancer realizes he's been tricked and comes back."

They moved deeper into the labyrinthine streets of the Dark Weavings bazaar, winding their way through the crowds that thronged it. As they walked, Miverra sang a song under her breath. She lightly touched first her own lips and ears then Q'arlynd's. As she did, the noise of the street suddenly fell away. Yet when she spoke he heard every word she said.

"Tell me about the other Masters of the Conclave. Is there anyone else I should be wary of?"

Q'arlynd laughed. "Just approach them as you would a council of matron mothers." At her puzzled look, he added, "With the utmost deference-and the utmost caution."

She nodded.

As they passed a building that sparkled with lavender faerie fire, Q'arlynd noticed Miverra's eyes following the light as it swirled up and down the hollowed-out columns. She probably didn't see many buildings like that on the surface.

"Let me offer these cautions, which may prove useful when you at last get to appear before the Conclave," Q'arlynd continued. "The College of Enchantment is in charge of Sshamath's slave market, so dealing with Master Malaggar may prove… problematic for you. And Master Felyndiira is as slippery as an oiled lizard; with an illusionist, you can't ever really trust what you're hearing or seeing. Master Urlryn is said to have poisoned his way to the top, while Master Masoj is said to prefer entombing his rivals deep in the earth. That is, supposedly, how he assumed his position at the College of Abjuration." He paused, as if thinking. "Of the ten masters who make up the Conclave, there's only one I'd recommend you trust: Seldszar Elpragh."

"Master of the College of Divination." She glanced pointedly at his amulet. "The college to which you belong, coincidentally enough."

"That's true. But I'm only trying to be helpful. You and I do, after all, share the same faith."

They passed a fungusmonger's stand, and the merchant held up an orange sporeball and cut a sliver from it, imploring them to take a bite. Miverra ignored him. Her attention, Q'arlynd saw, was focused on a bridge that spanned two buildings up ahead. A bridge that, like the column she'd just admired, sparkled with faerie fire.

Her expression was anything but one of admiration. In fact, she looked deeply troubled.

He suddenly realized a possible reason for her visit. "The faerie fire-is it affecting your priestesses too?"

She hesitated, not answering.

"Is that why you came to Sshamath? To learn what's causing the problem? Why… that's the very thing our college's sages have been studying."

She spoke slowly, as if thinking aloud. "Perhaps it would be better if I spoke to the master of your college, instead of appearing before the Conclave as a whole."

"I'm sure Master Seldszar will want to speak to you," Q'arlynd told her. "In fact, I think I can convince him to hear you this very 'day'" He lifted a hand. "Shall I teleport us to the College of Divination at once?"

Miverra touched his arm and moved in close. "Isn't there something you're forgetting?"

"What's that?"

She nodded at the clearstone in his hands. "The goblin. Shouldn't you set it free first?"

Q'arlynd almost laughed. He'd forgotten about the slave entirely. "Of course. Wait here; I'll only be a moment."

He intended to teleport to the slave house, return the goblin, and ask for credit toward the purchase of the chitine. But as he glanced down at the goblin it reminded him-just for a moment-of someone. A svirfneblin he'd once owned. The goblin stared up at him with dull eyes, its naked body a mass of bruises. No doubt some child had played with the clearstone, shaking it to see what would happen to its contents.

Flinderspeld had looked just as bad, the day Q'arlynd had seen him standing on the auction block.

Q'arlynd sighed, then teleported to a cavern well beyond the city. It took him two tries-his maudlin mood must have interfered with his concentration-but when it eventually worked he was precisely on target.

He laid the clearstone on the cavern floor, dispelled its magic, and stepped back as it shattered. The goblin instantly assumed its full size. It staggered to its feet and stared at him, lips pulled back in a grimace that revealed a mouth of jagged teeth. If Q'arlynd got too close, the creature would no doubt bite him. Goblins were that stupid; they didn't understand what wizards could do to them.