The Shattered Land: The Dreaming Dark - Book 2 (33 page)

“What do you think?”

She shook her head ever so slightly. The anger had evaporated, and once again she was calm and collected. “This is
Xen’drik. No doubt there are dangers in these jungles we know nothing about. It seems we must trust him. This may have been a mistake after all.” She glanced at Gerrion, and her eyes flashed. “Be warned, another such mistake could be fatal.”

“Of course,” Gerrion said. He wiped his brow and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out his pale locks. His manner was still subdued, but he had recovered a hint of his former jaunty demeanor. “Follow me then. We’ll reach the city within an hour, and be on the path again by dawn.”

The gray man waded into the field of orange grass, retrieving his light-sphere. The vegetation was densely packed, and progress was slow. “There should be a path once we reach the treeline,” Gerrion said. “These weeds—they’re seasonal. Rapid growth.”

Daine’s thoughts were still on Lei and Pierce and the strange metal giant they might be fighting even now.
They were warforged. Lei can fight warforged
. Even through the fog of concern, he could still see what an excellent opportunity this was for an ambush. Tall grass, poor lighting—Daine could barely see the trees themselves, let alone anything that might be hidden around the treeline. Swordsmen crouching in the weeds, a few archers scattered among the trees. Wait until the enemy reached the center of the meadow—
there
—then strike.

He was off by five feet.

He dropped down the instant he heard the
whiirr
. Something flashed over his head, a spinning object thrown with considerable force—an axe? Knife? He ducked down into the grass. “I’m going to
kill
you, Gerrion!”

Daine
. Lakashtai’s thoughts filled his mind.
I have been struck with a wooden weapon with sharpened points. The wound … it is not deep … but … I fear poison. Were you … injured?

No
, he thought. He kept still, his blades before him, listening for any sound of motion. Their enemies would be spread across the field. In the darkness, perhaps they thought that he’d been hit and had fallen to the ground. If they were using poison, they would wait for the venom to take full effect before closing in.
Did you see Gerrion? Was he part of this?

No response. He heard the sound of shifting grass, but he thought it was a body falling to the ground, and the light suddenly
faded.

Lakashtai?

Nothing.

So. Attacked by unknown enemies. Either Gerrion has betrayed us, or he’s just led us into a trap. Perhaps Pierce and Lei were the lucky ones
.

He waited, listening.

Do they think we’re all dead? Could they have left?

No. It didn’t make sense. Surely anyone who would go to this effort would want to confirm the kill—or to strip the bodies. If Gerrion was involved, he knew Lakashtai had gold.

Then he heard it. The faintest whisper of wind in the grass—but there was no wind. Someone was moving toward him. Possibilities flashed through his mind. Riedran soldiers? More warforged? Psychotic kobolds? The stranger wasn’t carrying any sort of light, and the footsteps were almost silent. Daine carefully set his sword on the ground, shifting his dagger to his right hand. This needed to be close and quick. Once he would have drawn comfort from the Silver Flame. Now he cursed any god that might be listening.

The wind blew through the grass again. A dark figure emerged, a slender silhouette set against the night sky. There was the faint gleam of moonlight on long silver hair, on skin dappled in patterns of black and white. That was all he saw before he struck.

He swept her legs out from under her, and she tumbled to the ground. Daine felt a thrill of relief as he leaned down on her neck and placed the point of his dagger against her throat.

“Drop your weapons and don’t make a sound,” he whispered.

He was talking to empty air. It was like trying to hold water; one instant his arm was against her neck, the next he was staring down at the earth and she was standing beside him. Her features were still hidden in shadow, but she held a long knife in each hand.

Daine threw himself backwards, and the twin blades struck earth. He snatched his sword from the ground and rose to his feet, throwing himself into first guard position.

Three other people were spread around the clearing—and as dark as it was, Daine could see that Gerrion and Lakashtai
were not among them.

Oh, this isn’t good
.

He knocked the woman’s daggers out of line with a sweeping blow from his sword and slammed into her, throwing her back into the grass. Something
whirred
past his head and he ducked down into the weeds.
So much for subtlety
. As his opponent rose to her feet he slammed the pommels of both blades against the side of her head. She staggered for a moment, and he struck again, the metal balls making a sickening crunch against her unarmored flesh. She fell, dropping her blades, but he couldn’t stop now; he followed her down and struck again, smashing her head against the ground. Daine felt the faintest twinge of guilt, but he’d seen and done far worse in the past—if she was lucky, she’d live through the night.

He might not be so fortunate.

Sheathing his sword, Daine wrapped an arm around the woman’s chest and stood up. For all her speed, she had the build of a scrawny teenager, and in the heat of battle she seemed almost weightless. He backed toward the remains of the shattered plaza, bringing his dagger up to her neck.

The other three strangers had disappeared. Dropped down into the weeds, no doubt.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Daine called out. “Show yourselves and we can talk this out. We didn’t mean to come here, and all I want to do is to leave with my companions.”

Nothing. The treeline was a wall of shadows, and there could easily be a hundred enemies hidden in that darkness.

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care,” Daine continued, watching the grass and waiting for movement. “We’re going north. Back to our ship. Leaving.”

“You lie.”

One man stood up, facing Daine across the clearing. He spoke with an odd, lyrical cadence, blending the syllables of the common tongue together as if they were part of the same word. Like Daine’s captive, the man was little more than a silhouette in the darkness, although he wore some sort of opalescent breastplate that shimmered in the light of the moons.

“Where are your friends?” Daine said, keeping his eyes on the grass. “Surprises make my hands twitch. I think this lady
will be much safer if they show themselves.”

“You show your heart,” the shadowy figure said, “speaking of peace, but threatening death.”

“I do that when people try to kill me and my friends. If the others don’t show themselves now, you’ll see what that’s like.”

There was a pause. Daine had the sense that the man was staring at him—but it was too dark for him to see the stranger’s face. Putting on his best scowl, he traced a line across his captive’s neck with his black dagger.

“If that’s what you want …”

“Halt!” The man did sing, then, or spoke in a language Daine didn’t know—though something about it seemed hauntingly familiar. The other two figures appeared, both closer than Daine had expected; they must have been creeping up in the darkness. One held a pair of daggers; the other carried a long chain, similar to the weapon of a Darguul chainmaster, but lighter. “You will die with her.”

“Not a lot of alternatives, and I never planned on dying alone.” Daine took a few more steps back, trying to keep the woman between him and his enemies. “I’d be happier if no one died tonight.”

“You say again, but you travel with others.”

“So do you.” There was an object in the stranger’s right hand, held at his hip—a weapon, probably, but just out of sight.

“North, you travel. To the glass city.”

“If that’s what it’s called, sure, that’s the plan. The jungle’s a dangerous place at night. Perhaps you’ve heard about that.”

The two warriors flanking Daine had not moved; they might just as well have been shadows. The speaker slowly raised his hand, revealing a curved, dark object with three prongs. “Perhaps you speak truth. I cast away the weapon.”

“Good. Get your friends to drop theirs, and we might be able to have a real conversation.”

The slender man didn’t drop the weapon—he
threw
it, sending it whirling through the air, but while Daine was surprised, the throw was well to Daine’s left—a warning shot, at best.

“What was—”

Before Daine could complete the sentence, the world went white as something heavy smashed into the back of his head.
There was a sharp pain in his neck, replaced almost instantly by a cold, spreading numbness. Daine tried to tighten his grip on the woman, but his hands seemed to have plans of their own; even as he tried to get his arms to move, the silver chain flashed in the moonlight, snatching the dagger out of his grasp. Then he was on the ground, the numbness spreading across his body. There was a wooden object lying in the dirt next to his face—a wheel formed from three curved spikes.
Did it … curve back?
He thought.

That was his last thought for some time.

P
ierce and Lei were on the ground when the strangers appeared.

Following Gerrion’s suggestion, they had gone to study one of the massive stone pillars supporting the pavilion while Gerrion, Lakashtai, and Daine climbed onto the plaza. The column was more than ten feet across, and covered with worn inscriptions. Lei was examining the faded words and muttering to herself. Pierce was watching the treeline, bow in hand, and so it was that he saw a wall of weeds and vines silently explode, as if caught in a whirlwind.

Pierce caught the briefest glimpse of the four figures in the shadows of the trees, but he didn’t wait for them to emerge. He stepped back into the narrow space between the pillar and the elevated plaza. Instinct said to ready an arrow, but he held back long enough to grab Lei’s shoulder and pull her along. She glanced up in surprise, and he gestured, using the military symbols she’d learned in their time together: Enemies. Four. North. Silence. She nodded, and her right hand slipped down to the longer of the two wands that she carried at her belt—a slender piece of oak tipped with a glowing pink crystal. An instant later they heard the hissing, metallic voice, flowing around them like a gust of wind.

Be still. Throw down your weapons, and you may yet live
.

Now Pierce had an arrow nocked. He slid around the wide pillar, until he caught a glimpse of movement—a warforged
scout like the one they’d seen on the beach, its arms studded with blades. In an instant, Pierce considered distance, wind, and the trajectory of his opponent. Even in the dark of night, Pierce was confident that he could strike his foe; he was already considering his second attack, how the enemy might respond in the time it took Pierce to draw and loose a second arrow. He felt a faint twinge of doubt—why were these warforged here? Were they connected to the stranger he’d met at the docks of Stormreach? But he forced it aside. This was war. This was his purpose. All he needed was Daine’s order, and the battle would begin.

The order didn’t come. Seconds passed as Pierce and Lei stood ready, waiting for some sign or signal. Finally the voice came again.

Now your companions abandon you. How … human
. The voice was like a sandstorm, particles thrown against the wind to form coherent words.
But you remain, brother. Reveal yourself. Your destiny awaits
.

Abandon? Brother?

Were they looking for him?

Lei was staring at him, puzzled and concerned, and Pierce found himself gripped by unfamiliar emotion. Usually, his path was crystal clear. Follow orders. Protect his companions. He knew the principles of war, of stealth, the quickest ways to kill, but
destiny
—it wasn’t a word he had ever given much thought to. He had a purpose, and it was a purpose he had served for almost thirty years. What else could there be?

Over the last year, Pierce had spent much of his time reading, learning about the history of the warforged and the nature of magic, but only now did he truly understand the power of curiosity.

The scout was slowly moving forward, and Pierce could hear the others making their way across the clearing. The larger figure was apparently wearing chain mail or something similar; the air was filled with the sound of metal clinking against metal.

“Your bow!” Lei hissed. She held out one hand. “Quickly!”

Pierce knew what she was planning. Lei could weave magic into a weapon to enhance its power against a specific type of creature, causing even a glancing blow to inflict a terrible
injury. If all of their enemies were warforged, such an enchantment could turn the tide of battle, but now strange words loomed in his thoughts. Brother. Destiny.

“Pierce!” Lei snapped. She reached out for the bow, and to his surprise, he found himself stepping back, moving out of her reach. Her eyes grew wide.

He said nothing, relying on military signals to frame his request: silence. Hold position. His mind was aflame with doubt, with fear—was he placing Lei in danger?—but he found himself turning around and slowly stepping out from behind the pillar.