The Shattered Land: The Dreaming Dark - Book 2 (46 page)

“Which brings us to the Oathbreakers?” Daine said

Shen’kar clicked his tongue. “The masters used many tricks to bind my ancestors to their service—magic, promises of immortality, threats—but the bravest children of night saw through these lies and turned against them. The pale slaves did not trust them, so they fought alone, battling the mighty and those slaves who remained in their service. So it continued until the destruction of the land, the Wrathful Night that brought the masters low. Today
we
are the masters of the land. The mighty ones have been forced into savagery, and now they are our prey. The pale slaves fled in fear, but we are strong and
wise. The spirits of the jungle guide us. The scorpion teaches us to hunt, to hide, to care for our young. They teach us to protect the land from those who would bring back the horrors of the past: the mighty ones, the outlanders, and the misguided children of night … the firebinders and their kin.”

“Right. The firebinders. This whole discussion was
so
fascinating, I almost forgot it had a point.” Daine sighed. “At the risk of another lecture, what are the firebinders trying to do?”

“My ancestors turned away from the brutal masters, but the firebinders served them faithfully. The Wrathful Night stripped the masters of their knowledge, but the slaves escaped the disaster. We turned to the voices of the wild, but others of their kind sought the knowledge of the mighty ones—the terrible secrets that have made them masters of flame.”

“You’re saying they work for giants?”

“No,” Lakashtai interjected, before Shen’kar could speak. “The giants are savages now, but they have reclaimed knowledge that the giants once had.” She glanced over at Shen’kar. “And this ‘gate’ of theirs? A path to greater knowledge?”

Shen’kar clicked his tongue. “The hidden vaults of the mighty are all around. We seek to reclaim the tools of our ancestors, but the secrets of the masters tore a moon from the sky and shattered this world. They should remain buried.” He gestured at his two companions. “We are scorpion wraiths, the champions of our tribe. We do not have the strength to face the firebinders in their burning city, but we slaughter them when they venture into the darkness beyond. When the season of fire is upon the land, we come in force, to ensure that they do not open their gate of flame.”

Season of Fire?

It must be a planar conjunction
, Lakashtai thought.
The outer planes are shadows of the world, orbiting like the moons, and when they come into alignment … well, strange things are possible. I think that Fernia is aligned with Eberron right now—that must be what they’re talking about. It should enhance all forms of fire magic
.

Well, we certainly haven’t seen any of that
.

“This gate of fire …” Lakashtai said. “This is the monolith of Karul’tash?”

“Karul’tash is its name in the language of the masters. It is surrounded by the invisible walls of which you speak, and none can approach it and live. Terrible powers lurk within, and the firebinders say there is a gate that will lead them to paradise.”

“So?” Daine said. “Why not let them go?”

“The legends say that those who pass through the gate will gain powers beyond those held by the ancient overlords and will return with an army of flame that will burn the world in their wake.”

“Oh.”

“So every cycle we come, to kill those who try to enter Karul’tash, slave and outlander alike.”

“Why not destroy it?” Lakashtai said.

“Such a thing would be impossible.”

Lakashtai shook her head. “Not at all. If there are gateways or magic—anything can be destroyed.” She looked at Daine. “We must get inside the monolith. My companion will be consumed by madness if we do not, and the forces first fought by the mighty will return.”

The drow glanced at Daine, shifting their grip on their weapons.

“Join us,” Lakashtai said. “Together we will find a way to destroy the forces hidden within Karul’tash and end your long vigil.”

Her voice was filled with passion and conviction, and Daine could feel the whisper at the back of his mind urging him to agree.
Does she even know she’s doing that?
He wondered.

Moments passed as the drow considered in silence. At last, Shen’kar clicked his tongue. “We may fight together, but to destroy Karul’tash, you must first enter it, and the firebinders have waited more than six thousand cycles for the coming of the opener.”

“We didn’t have much luck during our time in the maze,” Daine pointed out.

Lakashtai frowned. “Yes. I did not know about these defenses, but there must be a way …”

Her reflections were interrupted by motion in the trees. A shadow slipped out of the forest—another drow, long knives in her hands. It was the woman Daine had fought the night
before. She stopped short when she saw Daine and Lakashtai and dropped into a fighting crouch.

“Xa’sasar,” Shen’kar sang. “There is blood between you and this outlander, and you may settle it in time. For this moment he is our ally and not to be harmed. What is it you have seen?”

The woman watched Daine. It was difficult to read the expression in her pale eyes, but her body language was deadly. “The firebinders move in force. There are outlanders with them: a man of metal and a woman in green, grievously wounded. They are to join with the first priest at the burning gate.”

“Lei!” Daine exclaimed.

Shen’kar ran a finger along the back of his scorpion, considering the news. “The first priest would not leave the walls of the city unless …” He turned to the other drow. “They believe they have found the two outlanders who can open the gate. We must go quickly. We are outnumbered but can still kill the outlanders.”

“No!”
Daine said. He rushed at Holuar, but the other drow were between them in the blink of an eye, weapons out.

“This cannot be risked,” Shen’kar said.

“You forget.” Lakashtai’s silky voice seemed to wrap around them, even more beautiful when speaking the Elven tongue. “If they can open the gate, we can destroy it.”

“There are too many!” Xa’sasar cried, but Shen’kar was considering the matter.

“Are you afraid to try?” The dark elves stiffened, and Daine could see that Lakashtai’s words had struck home. “You are the champions of the night,” she continued, “and we have crossed the ocean to see this done. This is destiny. Embrace it, and together we will strike a devastating blow against your ancient enemy.”

Again the drow paused, whispering among themselves, but at last, Shen’kar clicked his tongue in agreement.

“Very well. Let us move swiftly.” He looked at Daine. “We have faced one another in battle. Now we shall stand together. It is fitting that this be returned.” Reaching down, he unbuckled a belt and handed it to Daine. A sheathed
longsword hung from the belt, its pommel emblazoned with the Watchful Eye of Deneith.

“I suppose it is,” Daine said, taking the sword and belt. “Lead the way.”

Daine had barely buckled the belt when the hunt began, with Xa’sasar taking point. The elves were swift and graceful, and it was all Daine could do to keep up.

Just tell me we get to kill them when all this is done
, he thought to Lakashtai.

Hush
, she thought, but even across the distance he could feel her smile.

F
iresled. A modification of the design pioneered by the elemental savants of the Sul’at League. The bound elemental provides motive power for the vehicle, and its essence can be channeled through the central staff as an offensive weapon, either in a focused blast or explosive burst. The sled is fire-resistant and spiritually reinforced to resist abjuration effects that could interfere with the binding enchantments. The top speed …

It wasn’t a conversation. Pierce didn’t hear a voice telling him these things. He just
knew
the information, as if he had studied the subject long ago and forgotten it. At the same time, he felt a strange sensation in his mind—a slight sense of confusion, as if there was something he was trying to remember but simply couldn’t recall. He tried to dismiss it, to focus on the battle, but he couldn’t; it was as if another creature were trying to think with his mind.

THOOM!

Pierce threw himself to the side as the firesled approached, and he rolled with the explosion, avoiding any significant injuries. Rising to his feet, he loosed an arrow at the pilot of the craft, but between the vessel’s speed and the cover it provided to its controller, the elf was a difficult target. The flying sled passed overhead and out of sight. Pierce could hear soldiers approaching through the jungle, and a flock of brightly colored birds took to the sky, complaining in a myriad of sharp notes. An instant later the elves flowed out from the trees—a dozen warriors wearing bronze armor, wielding swords and short spears.

Elves: a servant race
. The information was
there
, rising to the fore without him even asking.
Swift but frail. The Gyrderi employ a corps of elf war-wizards, and the species has displayed an aptitude for magic. Be prepared for arcane attack
. As an afterthought:
Elves do not sleep, though they require a period of trance and mental exercise to restore balance: they do not open a spiritual link to Dal Quor during this time. The unusual pigmentation of these elves could be the result of long-term exposure to magical forces
.

Pierce didn’t have time to analyze the thoughts. His last arrow had found the throat of an enemy soldier, and now his flail was in his hands. He swung low, lashing the chain around an opponent’s knees and jerking him off of his feet; as the dark elf tried to rise, the metal ball of the flail caught him in the face, and he fell for good.

As skilled as he was, Pierce was terribly outnumbered. He tried to keep Lei in his peripheral vision, but the elves were moving around him. Even as he parried two swordsmen with a sweeping stroke of the flail, a spear-tip slipped through his guard and dug into the leathery roots under his right arm. Then he heard a voice—he didn’t know the language, but even as he heard the words he
knew
it meant “Stand aside!”

The elves scattered. Pierce tried to locate the speaker, but the words seemed to have come from empty air, or was there something there? A vague shimmer? A …

The flare of light was overwhelming. Dazzling, vivid colors filled his field of vision, and for an instant he was paralyzed by the brilliant radiance. The dark elves had known what to expect, and before he could recover they were upon him. The shaft of a spear knocked him to the ground, and as his vision cleared he saw a half-dozen weapons leveled down at him. Two of the spearheads were shrouded in flame. The firesled swept over him, and there was another explosion to the east.

Even as Pierce considered his options, a thought occurred to him.
Your companion Lei has been seriously injured. She is alive, but further strenuous activity could prove fatal
.

He knew it was true. He could
sense
Lei’s presence even though he could not see her, and he knew she’d been caught in the last blast of the firesled. The odds were impossible, and he couldn’t put Lei at further risk. Reluctantly, he released his grip on his flail and spread his hands.

Pierce offered no resistance as the drow took his weapons and bound his hands. His attention was focused inwards.
Your companion
. It had seemed like his thought, but it wasn’t. Even now, he could sense that Lei’s condition had stabilized.

Identify yourself
, he thought.

Why do we need names?

The thought seemed natural, as if it had just occurred to him, a logical response to his question, but Pierce had been waiting for it, and he examined the thought the instant it came to him. He could feel a hint of the outside presence … like a voice he couldn’t quite remember, the faintest possible scent. Something vast, old, and ever so slightly … feminine.

We are separate. You are sentient. Surely you have an identity of your own
.

Perhaps I am just a part of you … a part you’ve forgotten
.

The dark elves had surrounded Pierce and brought him together with Lei. Her skin was covered with burns and ash, and there were charred holes in her cloak, but she still smiled at him. He offered her his hand, and the drow did not stop her from leaning on him.

A name. Make one up if you must, but tell me who and what you are or I’ll rip you out of my chest
.

Perhaps. For now, you may think of me as Shira. What am I? I am your destiny. I was made for you
.

I am less than thirty years old
, Pierce thought.
You have been in a vault for over thirty thousand years. You were not made for me
.

Then perhaps you were made for
me.
Is there so much of a difference?

Pierce reached up to touch the orb, where the lone dragonshard protruded from his torso. He considered the mental command that would deactivate his essence node, forcing the sphere from his body.

I wouldn’t. You need me
.