The Shattered Land: The Dreaming Dark - Book 2 (47 page)

Why is that?

Because I
can
lead you to Karul’tash and so much more besides. For example, you should really listen to what these elves are talking about, and
you
don’t understand the Elvish language, do you?

If he could have, Pierce would have frowned. Instead, he simply turned his attention to the elves. The soldiers who had captured him were led by a woman with a flaming, double-bladed sword whose armor seemed to glow with inner heat.

A spirit of fire has been bound into the armor using the techniques of the Sul’at savants
, Shira observed.
When invoked, it will surround the wearer with a burning aura that will injure attackers
.

This woman had placed a piece of black glass on the ground, and as Pierce watched, a flickering shape rose up from it. It was only a shadow formed of dark flame, a vague silhouette of a humanoid figure wearing a crown with three points. Pierce waited for a response from Shira, but none was forthcoming.

“So, Sulaje. You have found them.” It was the crackling sound of fire, woven into speech. Somehow Pierce knew the voice was speaking the Elvish language, but it was as if he didn’t even hear the words—he simply
knew
their meaning.

“We have, Lord Holuar, though I ask you to rescind your order and allow me to proceed with execution. The other outlanders are still at large, and—”

Other outlanders?
Pierce glanced at Lei, whose eyes had widened at the words.

“They are irrelevant.” The crackling voice was curt. “I told you that the final season was upon us—but our emissary misread the signs.”

“Keeper?”

“The child of war stands next to you, Zulaje, a man without home or family. The water spoke to this one as well, and he fought the priest of dragons. He opened the gate on the ground, a mystery we have never mastered. I know it in the marrow of my old bones: These are the ones we have sought, delivered to us at last.”

“Are we to test
these
, as well?” The woman’s voice was full of scorn and doubt.

“There is no need. Let the gate test them.”

“This is foolishness, Lord Holuar. A number of scouts have failed to return. Even a firesled is missing. The scorpions of the Broken Oath are lurking in the shadows, and you are chasing smoke.”

“Enough!” the voice cried from the fire. “You are a child of the flame, Zulaje, but you do not respect our ways.”

“It is time for
new
traditions—”

“This is NOT THE TIME!” The crackling voice rose in
volume, echoing like thunder. “You consider this to be the errand of a fool, Zulaje? Then you need have no part of it.”

“What do you mean?” The woman’s voice was harsh music. “I am war leader, bearer of the blade—”

“Yes, and as such, our people will need you to maintain order in my absence.
I
am going to the burning gate, Zulaje. I will seek out the land of the promise.
You
will return to the city and watch the walls. When the army of the blessed returns from the land of the promise—we will see if there is still a role for you among our people.”

Zulaje hissed, baring her teeth. “You—”

“I am the Keeper of the Burning Gate, and I shall decide who passes beyond. You have chosen your path, Zulaje. Be grateful. Should I fail to return, the destiny of our people will be in your hands.”

Zulaje paused for a long moment. “Shall I bring the prisoners to you then?” she said at last.

“No. We both know how dangerous the jungle is, and I wish to ensure their swift and safe passage of Karul’tash. You should return. Alone. Servants of the flame will arrive within moments to lead the prisoners to the gate. I feel them closing now.”

Pierce had been listening in silence, trying to make sense of this strange conversation, but now he heard the sound of people making their way through the jungle, and a moment later four figures emerged from the thick brush and cover.

“Pierce and the Lady Lei,” Gerrion said with a bow. “How lovely to see you again.”

T
he scorpion drow knew this region of jungle well, and they knew the path the firebinders would take to reach the Monolith of Karul’tash. The firebinder soldiers were slowed by armor and the need to manage the prisoners; Xu’sasar was confident that the oathbreakers could ambush the enemy before they reached the gate. A chill ran through Daine’s spine when the drow scout said that the woman in green had been injured, and his fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword.

The sun was beginning to fall toward the horizon, and Daine was kneeling in the shadow of an enormous tree, nestled against the edge of a wide path. The weathered trunk was covered with fiery orange moss, hardly ideal for camouflage. Luckily, shrubs and the flow of the land provided stronger cover, and there was little chance of being spotted by the foe. “The firebinders favor force,” Shen’kar had told them. “The spear, the sword, the flow of flame and spell. They sharpen blades, not eyes, and will not see us in the shadows. The scout in the sky is a danger, but I shall pluck out his eyes.” For an instant, a black mist flowed around the dark elf’s hands, before being drawn back into his skin. “Darkness is our birthright. The firebinders turn from it, clinging to flame and light. But the scorpion strikes unseen, and as children we are taught to fight without the use of sight. We will draw them into darkness, and there will they fall.”

Gerrion is mine
, he thought.

So you have said
, Lakashtai responded. She was close by, but her
skills with stealth were a match for any drow, and even Daine had lost sight of her. Lakashtai had offered to link the thoughts of the oathbreaker elves, but the drow had declined. They were willing to plan strategies, to agree on critical signals, but they had no intention of letting this outlander touch their thoughts.
It may surprise you, but I had not decided to steal his death from you in these last few moments
.

I’m sorry. It’s just that the thought of that worm gloating over Lei … I can’t tell you how much I want to kill him
.

You don’t have to
, she replied.
I can feel it
.

Why did we trust him?

What reason was there to question him?
she countered.
He saved our lives, Daine. Now we know why, but at the time, it seemed a gift of good fortune
.

Good fortune? What’s that?

He sighed and studied his sword. Shen’kar had taken excellent care of the weapon; if anything, better than Daine had. The blade was polished, and the eye on the pommel flashed as a beam of sunlight found its way through the canopy. Daine’s thoughts drifted, and he remembered finding the blade in his grandfather’s hand, still covered with blood.

The sword holds many memories
.

The foreign thought jerked Daine from his reverie.
It’s a sword. Steel and leather. The memories are mine
.

Just a sword? Not at all. It is a symbol. A relic. I think it has many tales to tell—but you have not been listening
.

Is there a point to this?
Daine thought.

His concern for Lei already had him on edge, and his family history was a subject he had always pushed away. When he’d left his house he had disfigured the blade, gouging out the Watchful Eye of House Deneith. It had been Alina Lyrris who restored it … a strange turn of events, given her role in his earlier life.

Perhaps. Symbols and memories have power. You weaken yourself by ignoring your past
.

Even as Daine struggled to frame his response, he heard the long, low call of one of the orange and gray monkeys. The call was repeated, twice, and Daine knew it was no monkey. It was the warning of the Qaltiar—the firebinders were coming.

A few moments later, a firesled appeared, drifting some
fifteen feet above the path. The sled was moving slowly, no doubt scouting the way for the troop behind. The elf holding the carved staff was studying the brush, and Daine held his breath as the cold white gaze swept over his hiding place … and paused. Daine cursed silently. The soldier seemed uncertain, but if he’d spotted Daine, one blast from the staff could incinerate him and alert the others. Where was Shen’kar?

It was a question with an immediate answer. A shadow rose up along the side of the path behind the sled. In one smooth motion, Shen’kar leapt into the air, and gravity stood aside and let him fly. He landed on the back of the sled and brought one hand down against the wood. Inky vapors flowed forth from the point of contact, and in seconds this dark cloud had completely enveloped the sled. The sled picked up speed but veered to the right; it was soon off the path, and Daine thought he heard a muffled explosion in the distance. He idly wondered if it would start a wildfire, but these thoughts were quickly thrust aside as the elven troop came around the bend.

Quick!
Daine thought to Lakashtai.

For an instant, Daine could feel the kalashtar reaching out with her mind, pulling distant thoughts into a bonded network. His breath caught in his throat, then the thought flowed into his mind.

Daine?

Lei!
It wasn’t her voice, but the sense of her, her
presence
, filled him with new strength.

Captain
. Pierce’s thoughts were as steady as his voice, solid and stable as stone.

There’s no time to explain
, Daine thought to them.
As soon as it’s dark, drop and roll to the side. Get off the path quickly. If you’re hurt … just stay down. Stay out of the way. We’re coming
.

Darkness?
Lei thought.
Night is hours away. What—

As the firebinders drew closer, the troop was engulfed in a sudden and impenetrable gloom. The scorpion wraiths had made their move. Xa’sasar and Kulikoor had used their powers to weave shadows into small stones, and just as Lei’s cold fire lanterns spread light, these devoured it. Daine caught only a glimpse of the drow shadows slipping into the void, but he heard the tortured cries as the oathbreakers claimed their
first victims. He stepped onto the path, blade at the ready, and waited for his prey to appear.

First to emerge was a priest. His ceremonial robes were torn, fresh blood mingling with the crimson cloth and chunks of obsidian woven into the hem. His expression was one of abject fear, his only concern escaping the death that waited in the darkness; he never considered what might be waiting in the light.

The cleric’s blood was still seeping into the soil as Gerrion rolled out of the shadows, moving low and fast. His small crossbow was in his hand, and he was tracking Daine even as he rose to his feet, but he wasn’t fast enough. Daine smashed the weapon from Gerrion’s hand with one powerful blow. Daine pressed the point of his blade against the gray man’s throat, pressing just hard enough to draw blood.

“Daine!” The clash of weapons and the screams of dying elves filled the air, but Gerrion was as unflappable as always. “So good to see you again. I hope these savages haven’t hurt you.”

“I’ve been trying to find one good reason not to kill you,” Daine growled.

“How about saving Lei’s life?” Gerrion glanced to the right, and Daine followed his gaze. Lei was nowhere to be seen.

No!
There was a flash of dark metal, all too familiar—Daine’s dagger, in Gerrion’s hand. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Daine saw the blade sweeping up toward his grandfather’s sword. Daine knew what was coming. Steel was no match for adamantine, and in an instant the sword would be broken. It was his last bond to his family, and in that moment anger, shame, and love flowed together in a raw burst of emotion.

The dagger struck home.

And the sword didn’t break.

There was a tumultuous ring of metal on metal, a sound more like the peal of a mighty bell than that of two blades. Daine felt a faint quiver in his wrist, but the effect on Gerrion was remarkable. He jerked to the side as if he had been struck, and the dagger was torn from his grip and thrown to the side of the path. His eyes grew wide.

Daine stared at his sword in disbelief.
How …
Were the flames around the Watchful Eye
glowing
, or was it just a trick of
the light?

The distraction nearly cost him. Gerrion recovered quickly and dove for the dagger, but even as he reached for it, a well-placed kick caught him in the chin and sent him sprawling.

Lei and Lakashtai looked down at the fallen half-elf. Lei picked up the dagger.

“You know, Gerrion, I don’t think this belongs to you,” she remarked, tossing it to Daine. “Lakashtai, do your people have any entertainingly gruesome punishments for thieves?”

“The kalashtar place little value on property,” Lakashtai replied. “We treasure thought and feeling, and—”

“Never mind,” said Daine. “I think our new friends may have some useful ideas.”

The darkness had faded, and the carnage was revealed. Gerrion was the only firebinder still breathing, and while the oathbreakers were bleeding and covered in gore, all four were still standing. Shen’kar had drawn his spiked club and was making a point of studying the embedded stingers.