Steel and Stone (31 page)

“Don’t be sarcastic.”

Xanthar, shrugging, headed north again. Caven, meanwhile, had dismounted and was attempting to lead the stallion. This met with no greater success; the horse was floundering in the sand.

“I have another idea.” Without pausing to consider the risk, Tanis loosened the harness that held him to
the owl. Carefully he knelt on the back of the bird.

What are you doing? Half-elf, you’re off balance—I won’t be able to catch you if you fall!

Ignoring the bird, Tanis crouched on Xanthar’s back. The owl’s feathers were slippery beneath Tanis’s moccasins. The half-elf rose to his full height, his left arm outstretched to the side for balance. Then, with his right arm, he stretched the tongs and the jewel high above his head. He tried not to think of the ground so far below him. Suddenly Kitiara’s pack, with the remaining seven jewels, tumbled from the bird’s back. Tanis lurched and slipped, landing on Xanthar’s back with a cry. He was sprawled crosswise on the giant owl, his legs dangling on one side, his head jutting over the other. This gave him a fine view of the pack spinning end over end and smashing into the plain. Dust rose around the area of impact. Tanis scrambled to regain his seating. At least he hadn’t dropped the tongs.

Again Xanthar turned north, then, after a short time, headed south once more. Soon Tanis was back in position, standing with one arm outstretched to the side, the other, with the jewel, high above his head. He dared not look up to see if the stone was in the correct alignment.

Half-elf …

The bird’s telepathy was interrupted. Humming burst from above. Out of the corner of his eye, Tanis saw an amethyst-colored beam arrow toward the sand. “Is it working?” he cried. “Is the sand melting?”

From this angle, I cannot tell
.

“Keep going.”

They continued their slow passage southward, the stone thrumming all the way, until practically an hour had passed and Tanis’s muscles screamed for relief.
Finally they reached the edge of the sand. Tanis slipped gratefully to his knees and clung to the owl as the creature glided to a landing. Then, just as the sun slipped below the horizon, they turned and looked back.

Trailing straight through the expanse of plain was a gleaming path of melted and hardened sand. And in the distance, inching cautiously down the strange trail, were Caven Mackid and a visibly limping Maleficent. Caven waved Kitiara’s fallen pack triumphantly over his head.

*   *   *   *   *

They had stopped for the night. Xanthar napped. Meanwhile, Caven tended Maleficent, who had pulled a tendon struggling in the sand. The huge horse stood with one leg dangling. His breath rasped, and he refused food.

“There’s nothing to do but let him rest,” Tanis said.

The next morning, Maleficent was hot with fever and barely conscious. Caven stood looking down at his horse, saying nothing, hand on the hilt of his dagger. Tanis moved away, and the Kernan put the stallion out of his pain.

“What now?” Caven asked Tanis afterward. “We’re at least a hundred miles from the Icereach. The owl can’t carry us both.”

Their gaze turned to Xanthar, still asleep on a rock overlooking camp. His exhausted snoring was audible a hundred feet away. As though the men’s gaze had disturbed him, the owl awakened with a snuffle and looked around dimly.

“He won’t be able to haul even me much longer,” Tanis whispered. “He keeps calling me Kai-lid.”
Caven’s eyebrows rose, and Tanis explained. “Lida’s Darken Wood name, the owl said.”

The Kernan’s confused look changed to one of expectation. “So what do we do now?”

Irritation rose in the half-elf. “Who elected me emperor of this expedition?” Caven waited. “Do?” the half-elf repeated. “I believe that what Xanthar should do is go back to Darken Wood; obviously he drew strength and powers from there, and he’s losing both. And what you and I should do, Caven Mackid, is to continue on without him.”

“How?” Caven demanded.

“How else? We’ll walk.”

Chapter 17
Kitiara and the Valdane

“H
URRY, HURRY
! V
ALDANE WAIT
.”

Both of the ettin’s heads spoke at once as the beast looked down from the access hole high in the dungeon cell. The ettin’s roar reverberated through the bare chamber, and Lida jumped. Kitiara took pleasure in goading the beast by taking her time in sauntering to the wall opposite the portal. The two-headed troll flung a rope through the opening and climbed down. He grasped at her with dirt-encrusted hands. “Hurry. Want now. Now, now, now.” Kitiara caught the fetid odor of fish on his breath.

The thirteen-foot ettin dragged her over to the crude ladder. Lida attempted to follow, but Res-Lacua
stopped her. “Just soldier lady.”

“It’s a private party,” Kitiara said acerbically.

Res-Lacua cuffed her above her right ear, lifted her to his shoulder with one hand, and then sprang up the rope. “No touch ice,” he chanted in a whisper. “No touch corpses. Not eat, not, not. No touch ice.” He flung her through the hole, then drew up the rope and hung it on a peg on the wall.

The swordswoman ignored the cry of “Kitiara, don’t cooperate with them!” that wafted through the portal. Instead, she took a swing at the ettin. “If I had my sword …” she threatened. The creature guffawed and towed her up a sloping hallway bathed in icy blue light, then through a maze of identical hallways.

Kitiara complained as she struggled to keep her footing. “The man abandons us for days … ignores us completely … doesn’t even send us food … then all of a sudden he has to see me
right away?”

The ettin skidded to a halt, crashing a fist into an oak door. When he thundered on the door again, Kitiara realized it was an ettin version of knocking.

“By Morgion, ettin!” the Valdane exploded, opening the portal. “Can’t Janusz teach you any—”

His eyes widened when he saw Kitiara. Then his hand snaked out, caught the swordswoman by the shoulder, and propelled her into the room. The ruler slammed the door in Res-Lacua’s faces.

The Valdane’s quarters were as opulent as the dungeon had been spartan. Velvet tapestries in deep blues, greens, and purples covered most of the walls, with only a few sections of ice left exposed, probably to let in the blue light. A gilded throne stood in the center of the room. The ruler’s huge bed was draped with brocade and silk embroidered in the colors of the Valdane’s standard, purple and black. One wall boasted
a window of sorts—undoubtedly magical, as they were hundreds of feet below the surface. As Kitiara watched, the scene shifted from a view of the Icereach to a springtime panorama of the Valdane’s former holdings near Kernen.

Kit felt his breath on her shoulder, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. The Valdane had bathed, combed his red hair, and donned clean clothing—tight black leggings, knee-high boots of the same color, and a loose purple shirt laced loosely at the front. He looked only a few years older than she. He gazed at her, and she saw appreciation and hunger in his eyes.

He spoke softly and smiled, but the hard look in his eyes never varied. “The mage believes I should let him torture you, Captain, until you give him some information about the ice jewels. And then he wants to have the pleasure of killing you himself.”

“The mage shouldn’t be too optimistic about torture. I’ve been tortured before—by the best, or should I say worst?”

The Valdane nodded. “So I told him. But he feels he has a personal score to settle with you, Captain.”

She grinned crookedly. “He shouldn’t leave his belongings lying around where anyone can make off with them.”

“I agree.”

They sized up each other. Then the Valdane spoke offhandedly. “I submit it would be best for us all to cooperate.” The Valdane lounged on his bed, stroking the silken coverlet. He beckoned to Kitiara. Kit came over and sat next to him, judging him a fool. “You have something we want, and we—or at least I—can provide something that Captain Kitiara Uth Matar desires above all else.”

“And what is that, Valdane?” Kit asked coyly.

“Power.”

“Indeed.” She raised one eyebrow.

“And wealth.”

“Really.”

“You saw my troops. Could you command them in alliance with Toj?”

She barked out a laugh. “The soldiers haven’t been born yet that I can’t command.”

“Then you will join us?”

“In exchange for …?”

“The jewels, of course.”

Kitiara leaned back lazily against the bed and smiled up at him. “I know where the stones are, and I know that once they’ve been mastered, they could provide all the power and wealth I need. Why should I cooperate with you or your mage?”

The Valdane’s eyes danced with fury. He jabbed a finger toward the window. When Kitiara looked, she saw Janusz’s face. The mage was chanting. Suddenly pain tore through her. She twisted and rolled off the bed and fell writhing to the floor, her hands clutching her abdomen. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and felt blood trickle down her chin. Through a haze of pain, she heard the Valdane rap out an order. The chanting stopped, and the agony vanished as suddenly as it had begun. Kitiara lay panting on the thick carpet. She fought the desire to retch.

The Valdane’s boots swam into her vision. The toe of one boot nudged her chin until she was peering up at him.

“Why should you go along with me?” he repeated gently. “You forget the being growing within you, Kitiara. We can deal with it however we want, the mage and I. And don’t mistake us; some of our tricks are quite painful. This was just a modest sample.”

She spat at him. Spittle dripped down his left leg, but the Valdane didn’t flinch. “Where are the ice jewels, Kitiara?” he asked quietly.

“Go to the Abyss.”

“Where are they?” His voice rose.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time, Valdane?” She rolled cautiously over and pulled herself to a crouch. Her head swam; she hadn’t eaten in nearly a week, and being with child was yet another drain. “I don’t
have
the damned stones anymore, Valdane.”

“Yet you said your friends, coming so valiantly to rescue you, do.”

“I said they had
information
. They’d hardly be so stupid as to haul the jewels straight to you.” Hoping that last remark was true, she wiped the sweat from her face on the silk of his bed covers. Then she rose. “You need me more than I need you, Valdane. Who’s going to lead your army? Toj? Those power-mad minotaurs? Do you think they’ll stand by and let you hoard all the wealth? The walrus men? They’ll serve as little more than dumb bulwark. And the ettins … there isn’t an ettin on Krynn with an ounce of brains.”

“Res-Lacua …”

“Res-Lacua is terrified of the mage, who drills him endlessly to coordinate his every move. Those ettin slaves can’t think for themselves. Why, they can’t even get their right and left heads to agree with each other.”

“The mage …”

“The mage has exerted himself to his limit.”

The Valdane looked thoughtful, but when he spoke, he oozed with sarcasm. “And Kitiara Uth Matar, about to become a proud mother, could you do anything about all that? Do you think I ought to plan my campaign around your confinement?” He affected
a whine. “ ‘I’m sorry, Valdane … we can’t take Tarsis now, Valdane … I think I’m having contractions today, Valdane.’ ”

Stung, Kitiara shot back, “Don’t forget, Valdane, I know where the ice jewels are. They offer limitless power to the one who can unlock their secrets. And about that other ‘problem’ … your mage could help take care of that as part of the bargain.”

“The baby?”

“The child need never be born,” she snapped.

For a moment, neither spoke. The Valdane’s thoughts lay masked behind an unfathomable stare. But in another of his mercurial shifts of mood, his next words were gentle. “It doesn’t have to come to that, Kitiara. We don’t have to be enemies, you and I. Once we fought on the same side.”

Kitiara forced an implacable tone. “I remember that
I
fought.
You
stayed safely in your tent.”

He put a hand on her arm. “Let’s end this bickering for now. I’ll have lunch brought here.” He directed his words at the mage, behind Kitiara, where he awaited his master’s command. Janusz murmured something that Kitiara didn’t catch, but her stomach grumbled. No doubt about it, she was hungry. “You’ll probably poison me, Valdane.” She affected a lighthearted tone.