"Again," Seldszar demanded.

With a whispered word, Urlryn magically swapped their positions a second time.

"Again."

By the third translocation, both mages were covered head to toe in glittering faerie fire. Urlryn, squinting, threw up his hands. "Enough! What does this prove?"

Seldszar held out his arms and turned in a slow circle. "What do you observe?"

Urlryn squinted against the glare of the faerie fire that surrounded him. He waved a hand in front of his face, as if trying to shoo away a gnat. "Not much, thanks to this."

"Yes, but note the color. Your faerie fire is a deep blue. Mine, a pale green."

"Signifying?"

"Indulge me a moment more. Summon faerie fire intentionally, this time. See if you can make it violet, instead."

Urlryn spoke a brief incantation and traced a finger through the air. The water inside the clock was suddenly illuminated from within by motes of indigo. A frown of concentration on his forehead, he shifted the hue to a lighter blue, then to green, then back to blue again and finally to a purplish shade.

"As I thought," Seldszar said. "You can consciously manifest faerie fire in any shade you wish, but the involuntary manifestations are limited to your habitual color."

Urlryn stared at Seldszar." 'Habitual color.' That's a term I haven't heard before."

Seldszar smiled. "It's one I came up with a few years back. A little academic, but it will serve. Ask a drow to evoke faerie fire, and he'll habitually manifest a particular color. The same color, I'll wager, that he's involuntarily manifesting now." He gestured at the unconscious mages. "Were we to wake one of them up and repeat the experiment I just performed, you'd see the same thing. The faerie fire he manifests when asked to cast a divination or to teleport will match whatever his habitual color is."

Seldszar snatched one of his crystals from the air. "Observe the mages of my college."

Urlryn moved closer and peered into the crystal. Within it, blue faerie fire crackled around the head of one wizard as he cast a spell, and green around the hands of another. Still other mages emitted lavender or purple hues when casting their divinations.

Seldszar tossed the sphere into orbit again. "There's a hypothesis I've been researching for some time. That Faerzress and faerie fire are one and the same thing. Hence, the odd spelling. 'Faerie' instead of 'fairy.' It wasn't originally 'faerie fire,' but 'Faerzress fire.' "

Urlryn folded his arms. "You mean to tell me that every drow on Toril has Faerzress energy inside him? Not just those in Sshamath? Did Yithzin and Chal'dzar's spell extend that far?"

"I don't think so," Seldszar said. "But it looks as though every drow-spellcaster or not-can channel that energy. Act as a conduit for it. Our race is linked with it, somehow."

"That would explain why drow are the only ones affected by the augmentation of the Faerzress." Urlryn paced back and forth. "But why would Kiaransalee's cult-if they are indeed behind this-instigate something that would hamstring every drow on Toril? What purpose would that serve?"

"Who knows?" Seldszar shook his head. "From the little I've heard of Kiaransalee's worship, that goddess is even more crazed than Lolth. Perhaps this is Kiaransalee's version of the Silence."

"A 'web of silence,' " the other master said, quoting the ancient song. " 'And at its center, death.' " He looked up.

"So how does your deeper understanding of 'Faerzress fire' help us?"

"It doesn't-unless we can find a way to break the link between drow and Faerzress energy."

"A difficult undertaking," Urlryn observed.

"Yes. One that may take months-even years. Time we don't have." Seldszar locked his eyes on the other master. "Which is why I asked you here today. I propose an alliance of our two colleges. Pooling our respective talents is our best hope at finding the answer before it's too late. You will share with me the fruits of whatever your sages might discover-and I will do the same, with you." He paused. "Well? Will you agree to it?"

"I will." Urlryn bowed, his stomach straining the front of his vest. "You have my word on it."

A quick glance at the discernment sphere-which had darkened, but only slightly-told Seldszar the other master was telling the truth, for the most part. He would cooperate. For now.

"I thank you for your time," Seldszar told Urlryn. "And your ear. It's comforting to know that another master shares my concerns."

"Q'arlynd, what a pleasant surprise," Qilue said. "I had wondered if I would see you again. Your departure from the Promenade a year and a half ago was somewhat… abrupt."

Q'arlynd, Eldrinn and the other two diviners bowed as the high priestesses entered the room. Qilue was just as imposing-and beautiful-as Q'arlynd remembered. "I apologize for that, Lady Qilue, but I had pressing business elsewhere," he said as he rose from his bow.

"You wound up in Sshamath, Miverra tells me."

"The city of wizards suits me, Lady. I've made my home there." This wouldn't be news to Qilue. She would have scried him after he left the Promenade. Several times since then, the back of his neck had prickled, telling him that someone was looking at him from afar. Of course, that could have been Master Seldszar.

"Miverra also told me you've founded a school of wizardry there. Are these your apprentices?"

Q'arlynd noted-without directly looking at Eldrinn-that the boy's shoulders tensed. The other two wizards Master Seldszar had chosen for this mission were listening closely; they would have already noted the time Q'arlynd and Eldrinn had been spending together, and would wonder if the son was planning to step out from his father's shadow.

Q'arlynd smiled. "Having a school recognized as a college is the dream of every wizard in Sshamath," he said smoothly. "As for my 'school,' it's little more than a salon. A gathering of friends of the master's young son, here." He spread his hands. "I teach them what I can."

Qilue's eyes locked on his. "Teleportation?"

"Among other things."

"You were very good at it, as I recall."

Q'arlynd tipped his head.

He wondered if the teleport he'd just performed had been a test, either of the Promenade's defenses or of the degree to which the increase in Faerzress energy was affecting Sshamath. Perhaps both. He supposed he'd passed. Despite the faerie fire that had erupted when he'd cast his spell, it had been a relatively easy jump. It helped that the room Miverra had shown him in her scrying was quite a distinctive chamber: circular, its walls ribbed with arched columns that met overhead, and with only the one exit. The floor was inlaid with thousands of chips of colored stone: a mosaic that showed drow females practicing swordplay.

Qilue turned to the wizards who had accompanied him. "I am Lady Qilue, high priestess of the Promenade, Chosen of Mystra. And these mages are…?"

Q'arlynd gestured at their most senior member. "Khorl Krissellian, sorcerer and farseer."

Khorl was a sun elf with pale skin and off-white hair. As he stepped forward and returned Qilue's bow, his age-seamed face betrayed just a hint of haughtiness. He was nearly four centuries old and had lived the bulk of his life in Sshamath. Long enough to dress like a drow and be just as scheming, yet he still ranked drow one notch below the "true" elven race.

His greeting, slow and deep, was entirely cordial, however. "Lady Qilue, Chosen of Mystra. It is indeed an honor to meet the one about whom I have heard so many wondrous tales." The magical amulets on the fringes of his piwafwi tinkled as he rose.

Q'arlynd introduced the second mage. "Daffir the Prescient."

"Madam," Daffir said, bowing. He was a human from the south, his skin nearly as dark as a drow's. He was bald, whip-thin, and as tall as Qilue. Dark oval lenses hovered just in front of his eyes, hiding them. He leaned on the staff Eldrinn had been holding when Q'arlynd found him on the High Moor. The fact that another wizard had been allowed to carry it out of the city proved just how seriously Master Seldszar took their mission; the staff was one of his most treasured possessions. Next to his son, of course.