The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (11 page)

“Dusk.” Xu’sasar and Pierce had been bringing up the rear. The two seemed well matched in the arts of stealth and stalking. Daine hadn’t noticed the drow girl’s approach, but now she stood between him and Lei. “The spirits say we must find our way to twilight. We wander through the deepest night, and head toward the day.”

“Lei?”

Lei shrugged. “I wish I knew more, but that is what I heard in the vision. The answers lie in twilight.”

“So why don’t we just set camp and wait for a day?”

Xu’sasar blew out her breath. “Do you truly know so little of the way of the world?”

Daine bit back an angry remark. Most of his experience was on the battlefield, but in dealing with enemy officers, he had learned a little about reading his opponents, and he could sense something Xu’sasar didn’t want to share. She was afraid. The drow woman had lost her companions, been thrust in among a band of strangers, and torn from her world. She didn’t want to admit it, but Daine could read the fear behind her carefree mask. Xu’s aggression, her search for conflict, was her way of pushing back the terror. Daine had to respect her skills. While Xu was at least a foot shorter than Daine, a fraction of his weight, unarmed, and barely armored,
she’d taken on three of the Huntsman’s hounds and brought two of them down with her bare hands. It was hard to reconcile such deadly prowess with her youthful appearance.

“No, Xu’sasar, I know nothing of the world,” he said at last. “Enlighten me.”

“This is the night,” Xu’sasan said. “Even if it was dawn that we sought, it would not come to us. Dawn must be found. It is the way of the final lands. In life, we pass through all times, the world always changing around us. Not so in the final lands. The deep of night is a place, as is the dawn and the dusk. We must move through the night, and we must pay for our passage in blood.”

“The Huntsman?”

“He may return. He is a spirit of the land and not easily destroyed. Despite the silence all around us, the Huntsman and his hounds are not the only creatures that walk beneath this moon. The spirits of the wild and the spirits of the past both watch us, and either may send deadly challenges to test our worth.”

“Wonderful,” Daine said. “With that in mind, why don’t you keep a watch on our left flank?”

“Flank?” the girl replied, puzzled. Her knowledge of the Common tongue was remarkable but apparently not perfect.

“Follow. Watch. That way?”

The dark elf clicked her tongue. “I understand.” She slipped away, leaving Daine alone with Lei.

“What do you think?” Daine said. “She does seem to know quite a bit, but I have a little trouble taking the word of a woman who wishes we were all dead.”

“I still think it’s a coincidence,” Lei replied, shifting direction again. “The sulatar elves thought the realm
of fire was some sort of paradise. Thelanis touches Eberron in many places. I know dozens of stories tied to the fey realm. That’s all this is—stories her people have developed through planar travel, twisted with the passage of time. She’s not lying. She’s just seeing things through a lens of superstition.”

“And this whole business of finding dawn?”

“I think she’s right about that. Look at the moon. We’ve been walking for hours, and it hasn’t moved at all. Nothing’s changed. I don’t know about buying passage with blood, or where my staff is leading us. But it knows where we need to go, so I say follow.”

Daine looked up to study the moon. He watched the sky, then frowned and grabbed Lei’s shoulder, pulling her to a halt.

“What?” she said crossly.

“Didn’t you say that we should watch out for floating lanterns earlier?”

“Yes?”

“Look up.”

A handful of lights drifted across the firmament, a careful, controlled flight unlike the swift motion of a shooting star. These lights were set against the darkness of the sky, and it was impossible to judge size, whether they were enormous orbs coasting miles above the ground or tiny sparks floating just out of reach. Whatever they were, they were moving toward the group.

“Cover!” Daine yelled. He threw himself against a massive chunk of stone, pulling Lei with him.

A trio of stars streaked past them. Now the lights were moving closer to the ground, and Daine could see them more clearly. The brilliant glow made it difficult to focus directly on the orbs, but Daine could see that
they were balls of energy, approximately the size of his head. Each orb moved with the speed of a hunting owl, flying with eerie precision. Daine held his ground, keeping his back to the stone and his blade before him. Next to him, the darkwood staff sang quietly; Daine couldn’t understand the whispered words, but he knew a warning when he heard one.

The orbs swept past Daine’s position. They rose in the air, and he thought these fallen stars were going to return to the sky. Then they changed direction, shifting velocity and course to streak toward Daine and Lei.

The orbs were fast—but Daine’s allies were faster. Before the spheres could close the distance, Xu’sasar appeared, loping across the plain and leaping into the air in an astonishing arc that seemed to defy gravity. Shadows writhed around her fists as she struck at one of the fallen stars. As Xu’sasar’s momentum carried her back to earth, three arrows cut through the night. All of Pierce’s shafts struck the same globe Xu’sasar had attacked. The arrows passed directly through the globe, and for an instant it seemed as if there was no effect. Then the sphere shattered in a brilliant burst of light. A shower of golden sparks drifted to the ground, swiftly fading.

The orbs could be hurt. But whatever these spirits were, they were far from helpless. The two remaining lights orbited Xu, then in the blink of an eye they dashed forward, passing
through
the dark elf. Light flared and electricity crackled. The smell of storm and burnt flesh filled the air, and while Xu’sasar did not cry out in pain, the stagger in her step was proof enough of her agony. While one of the spirits continued to circle the wounded girl, the second darted at
Daine. It was a streak of pure energy, and between the speed and brilliance it was almost impossible to see. Daine held his ground. He still had his hand on Lei’s shoulder, and without thinking he tightened his grip. Her presence filled him with comforting warmth, and that strength seemed to flow into his blade.

He made his attack at the same instant as Lei, launching into a long lunge just as she lashed out with the darkwood staff. Both blows struck home, and the orb shattered into a thousand golden shadows. He felt a burst of joy and glanced at Lei. Her staff had fallen silent, and her smile lit a fire in his heart. But there was no time to bask in such emotion.

Turning his attention back to the struggle, he caught a brief glimpse of the third orb as it circled the rock Daine and Lei were using as a shield. Xu’sasar was already in pursuit, and while he had misgivings—
could it be leading us into an ambush?
—Daine darted after her, drawing his dagger and hurling himself forward. He turned the corner as swiftly as possible, both blades at the ready, poised to strike against the foe.

He immediately regretted the decision.

Daine had expected to battle the floating light. He’d considered that there could be a number of the ghostly orbs, a squadron of spirits lying in wait. For all that the lights had hurt Xu’sasar, they seemed fragile enough, and Daine was ready to deal with more of them.

The scorpion was a surprise.

Daine couldn’t understand how the creature had come so close without their seeing it. It was the size of a wagon. Its massive pincers looked strong enough to cut a man in two, and its stinger was a long spear glistening with crimson venom. Pale opalescent plates that seemed to capture the moonlight covered its
body, thicker than any armor Daine had ever worn. Its tail was raised high above its head, and raw panic filled Daine’s heart—sheer, primal terror at the sight of this arachnid monstrosity. He staggered back a few steps before he managed to force down the fear, mastering his emotions and raising his blades. His mind was already racing, trying to come up with tactics that might let them overcome this monster.

And then it spoke.

“You have done well, warriors,” it said. “But your trials have just begun.”

T
he night whispered to Xu’sasar, the barest wind stirring the dew-flecked sedge. The humans she followed paid it no heed. They continued to mutter in their barbarous tongue, oblivious to the wonders that surrounded them. She felt the breeze, and she knew it for what it was—the breath of the higher spirits, and a warning. She listened, trying to discern the words of the wind, but all she found was a vague sense of unease, of danger ahead.

This pleased her.

Xu’sasar’s memories were a patchwork of strife and struggle. Her people were always on the path of new prey, and there was never a shortage of enemies. She was still riding her mother’s back when she’d seen her first giant. The brute’s strength was no match for the speed and skill of Xu’sasar’s kin, and she’d felt only joy as her mother danced through the motions of battle. She learned the dance herself as soon as she could walk. She’d chased tilxin birds through the jungle canopy, leaping from bough to bough to keep pace with the tiny creatures. She’d fought giants on her own and faced firebinders, dream serpents, and
creatures who walked like men but fought as insects. And she’d hunted outlanders who sought to plunder the ancient ruins. Sometimes her tribe fought these foreigners, as they had battled this Daine when he had first appeared. Other times, they simply followed the strangers, shadowing them and striking only if the spirits demanded it. Though the humans were rarely worthy prey, Xu’sasar enjoyed these long hunts, and over many cycles she had even come to understand their common tongue, though she found it painfully slow and clumsy.

Xu’sasar did not know what she would find under this moon. Nonetheless … this was the hunting ground, first of the final lands. Here she would prove herself. Here she would earn her passage to the next realm, and the next, until she joined her kin on the fields of endless struggle. She was the last of her tribe, and with her death the Jalaq Qaltiar left Eberron behind. Now it was her duty to honor her tribe in death and make her way to the last battle. As she moved through the night, she studied the stone faces buried in the earth, and she took pride in the fact that none were Qaltiar.

The wind whispered again, and Xu’sasar saw motion in the sky. A trio of glittering sparks had come loose from the firmament and were streaking toward the ground.

Wandering wisps
. Even as she took cover against the stone face of the closest tor, she recalled the words of the Teller of Tales as he spoke of the many dangers of the final lands.
Remnants of the fallen, bound in the sky as others are buried in earth. They are deceivers who will lead you into bog or battle. Do not underestimate them; they burn with jealousy, and this fire is as deadly as any blade
.

These wisps had no interest in deception. They overshot Daine and Lei, then shifted trajectory, darting back toward the humans.

Xu’sasar never thought of leaving the outlanders to their fate. Whatever she thought of their graceless motions and foolish ideas, these were her companions on her final hunt.
A hunter who leaves her comrades to die is no worthy warrior
.

From that moment forward, all of her thoughts were focused on her prey. Distance was irrelevant. Xu’sasar was one with the wind, and she leaped into the air with no concern for height; her passion for her prey
pulled
her forward. Reaching within, Xu’sasar summoned the darkness that was the birthright of the drow, the cold night that consumed light and life. Shadows wreathed her fist, and she struck at the heart of the glowing sphere.

This was no creature of flesh and blood. Xu’sasar felt the barest resistance as her hand passed through her prey, as if she had struck a ball of water. Flesh or not, she could feel a pulse of agony radiate from the spirit as the darkness passed through the light. Xu’sasar twisted in the air and fell, spinning to face the wisps as she braced for her landing.

Three arrows sang through the air, reducing the weakened wisp to a shower of burning dust. Surely this archer thought he was doing her a favor, but Xu’sasar was not expecting the blow. She had yet to learn the tactics used by these three, and one of her own kin would not have stolen Xu’sasar’s prey in this way. For an instant she lost her focus, and that was all the wisps needed. There was a flash of light, swift as the lightning itself, and a wisp crashed into Xu’sasar, passing through her chest.

Agony lashed through every muscle. The pain redoubled as the second wisp passed through her. She could feel the raw fury of the spirit, and this anger seared her thoughts even as its blazing light scorched her flesh. The torture might have forced a scream from the throat of a soft outlander, but Xu’sasar was a war-wraith of the Qaltiar, a hunter hardened by ritual. She had undergone countless trials, and the elders had burned the spirit-wards into her skin with the sacred venom of Vulkoor himself. Xu’sasar called on the memories embedded in these pale tattoos, and the strength of her triumphs dulled the pain of her current wounds. Her vision cleared, and she turned to face her foes.