The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (19 page)

“You’re certain of this?” Xu’sasar said. They stood outside the Crooked Tree.

“I’m certain,” Daine said. “Now open the door for us. And put the knives away. We don’t want these people thinking we’re killers.”

“That would be a ludicrous misunderstanding,” Huwen said. “I’d laugh at the very idea of it, if I weren’t distracted by the agonizing pain of a broken limb.”

Xu’sasar tucked the blades into the straps of her harness, shortening the chain with a thought. She felt a slight emotional tremor as she approached the door, and once more she realized the touch of fear. It was the chaos, the uncertainty. In Xen’drik, life had always been simple. Strangers were enemies. Life was conflict. She was always ready for a battle,
prepared to die with a weapon in her hand. But to enter a stranger’s lair with empty hands, to trust the unknown, was terrifying.

Xu’sasar forced down the fear, struggling to keep her emotions hidden from the outlanders. She was a war-wraith of the Qaltiar, and there was nothing this human could do that she could not. She threw open the door and stepped inside.

The room was warm, the air smoky and slightly sweet. Fires were set in stone hearths to each side of Xu’sasar, and the low and steady flames seemed the only source of light in the wide room. It was likely a dark chamber, little better than the moonlit night, but shadows meant nothing to Xu’sasar, and she scanned the room, taking in every detail. Packed earth floor. No tables or chairs, only large cushions scattered across the floor. A short man watching from behind a long counter, sorting through piles of leather water-skins. The wide trunk of a gnarled tree rose up in the center of the room and extended through the roof. A spiral staircase coiled around the trunk. And a man and a woman danced, moving slowly to the soft and somber music.

“Welcome!” The innkeeper made his way out from behind the counter and strode toward Xu’sasar. He was a soft man, bones hidden beneath rolls of fat, and he wore a coat of gray velvet and a comforting close-lipped smile. He seemed in good health and good spirits, yet his voice was that of a dead thing, as if his lungs were rotting within him. Xu’sasar stepped to the side, setting her back against the wall, and her left hand slid to the hilt of a dagger.

“Welcome to the Inn of the Crooked Tree!” the man continued, pleasant words at odds with his ghastly
tone. “Always a pleasure to see one from the quiet lands under our humble roof. It has been so long, and even longer since I’ve seen one of your kind.”

Xu’sasar evaded the innkeeper’s embrace, but his smile didn’t falter. He indicated the cushions on the floor.

“Please make yourself comfortable. May I get you some food, something to drink, perhaps?”

“We need a room for the night.” Daine had followed Xu’sasar into the building.

“And just wait until you see who’s with them, Ferric!” Huwen crowed.

“Huwen!” The innkeeper said, beaming. “It has been far too long since you graced us with your presence. Now, what’s this ab—”

The innkeeper fell silent, and the music came to an abrupt halt. The dancers stopped where they stood.

Pierce entered the common room with Lei in his arms.

“Lady … Darkheart?” The innkeeper said, his face paling.

“In a manner of speaking,” Huwen replied.

“I don’t know what this is about,” Daine said, “and I don’t care. Huwen says that you’re no friend to this Woodsman. Is that the truth?”

“Oh, yes,” the innkeeper said. “Have no fear, good sir. We won’t be telling the woods of your wounded lady.”

“Good,” Daine said. “Then you’ll give us a room?”

“Of course. But there is the matter of price. This is a business, not a sanctuary.”

Daine nodded. “I have gold.”

“Gold? We have no use for coin beneath the Deepwood Moon. It will take more than metal to earn your
board beneath the Crooked Tree. What else do you have to offer?”

“The life of a wounded bird,” Daine said, placing his free hand around Huwen’s neck.

Xu’sasar was impressed. She’d thought Daine a fool for sparing the creature. It never occurred to her that he might use it as a hostage. Still, she was not convinced that he would stand by his hard words.

Neither was Ferric. The innkeeper laughed, a gasping, wheezing sound. “Good sir, Huwen is a customer, and if he seeks my shelter, he too will need to pay a price. You cannot trade on his life. No, if you wish the protection of our walls, you will need to give of yourself. Say … your fine voice.”

Xu’sasar glanced at Daine. She could draw and strike in the blink of an eye. Surely now he would see the wisdom of buying their shelter with blood.

Perhaps the innkeeper could read her thoughts; perhaps he simply saw her hands slip to the hilts of her knives. “I do advise against it, miss,” he said. “I’m sure you could kill me, but I assure you that the Crooked Tree would be no safe haven after my death.” His smile widened, and now she could see his needle-sharp teeth.

“Tell me your terms,” Daine said.

“Oh, I’m a fair man, sir,” Ferric said. “I do not expect you to be silent forever. I will simply take custody of your voice during your stay. I have this time to enjoy it, and you have our hospitality.”

“Do not do this,” Xu’sasar said. She needed no tale to tell her that this was unwise, but the stories of her people were filled with legends of those led astray by cunning spirits.

“Shelter for myself
and
my companions,” he said.
“One price for all.”

“That sets such a bad precedent,” Ferric sighed. “Nonetheless, you travel in august company, and it pleases me to place a thorn in the foot of the Woodsman. How is this: As only you will pay the price, I will give you but one room. How you use that space is your concern. You will be silent for the duration of the stay, until I give you a voice when you leave our company. A fair deal, yes?”

“And you guarantee our safety?”

“For as long as you remain beneath the Tree, yes, sir.”

“Do not do this,” Xu’sasar said again.

“I must agree with Xu’sasar.” It was the first time Pierce had spoken since they had left the banks of the river. “There are strange forces at work in this place, Captain. Surely we can find other shelter.”

Daine released his grip on Huwen’s neck, and the bird chuckled. “Not likely, tin man. The closer you get to the Woodsman, the worse things will be for you. This is one of the few free houses in this hour of night, and Ferric speaks truth. If you want true shelter, you’ll be needing to meet his price.”

“Enough!” Daine said. “Lei needs the rest, and we don’t know what’s out there. If I can buy us safe haven with one silent night, that’s a worthy exchange.” He turned to the innkeeper. “How do we do this?”

“It won’t take a moment, sir. Not a moment. Just open your mouth and we’ll be about it.” The pudgy man reached up, placing one soft hand on Daine’s throat.

Daine screamed.

Xu’sasar drew knives and set the points against each side of the innkeeper’s neck. Daine had dropped the wounded crow, and his face was a mask of pain. His scream seemed to hang in the air, and then Xu’sasar
realized that it
was
hanging in the air—that a wisp of silvery smoke had emerged from Daine’s mouth, and that the agonized sound was emerging from this floating mist. The smoke flashed through the air and into Ferric’s mouth, and the room fell silent again.

“If you don’t mind, miss, that’s rather uncomfortable.” It was Daine’s voice, steady and firm—but the words came from Ferric’s mouth.

Xu’sasar’s knives still pressed against Ferric’s throat. She looked at Daine. His face was pale and covered with cold sweat, but it seemed that the pain had passed. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Finally he stepped forward and pushed her blades from the innkeeper’s throat.

“Thank you, sir,” Ferric said with Daine’s voice. “I do appreciate a man who keeps his word, even when he sells his words. Now let me show you to your quarters. Afterward, you and your companions are more than welcome to enjoy the hospitality of our common room.”

Daine shook his head.

“As you will, sir. Follow me.”

The innkeeper led them to the staircase that wound around the gray tree. As they crossed the room, Xu’sasar noticed a detail that had escaped her, and despite the many terrors she had seen, she felt a slight chill. The fires in each hearth burned merrily, but they were fueled, not with wooden logs, but with human bones, intact but blackened and charred. As they ascended the staircase, Xu’sasar saw that the bones bore the marks of tiny, needlelike teeth.

The room on the second floor was gray. The gray mattress was stuffed with withered hay and covered with a blanket of gray wool. A small, scratchy woolen carpet covered the floor, and the rug was as gray as the wood beneath it. The window was covered with dust, and the moon beyond cast a faint gray light across the floor.

Pierce set Lei down on the bed. “Her condition is unchanged,” he said. “Is there anything we can do for her?”

Daine opened his mouth. He blinked, then shut it again, lips twisted into a scowl. He looked at Xu’sasar.

“There is nothing to be done,” Xu’sasar said. She thought of the tales she had heard of the Keeper of Secrets. “We can only watch and protect her body. The struggle is within, and nothing we do can affect it. Nor can we see what she faces. The battle may already be over, and she may have lost. If this is the case, she will never wake, and we will know only when she starves to death.” She met Daine’s gaze. “It may be a mercy to end her misery.”

Daine shook his head, his gaze was hard. Xu’sasar could see his anger at the very suggestion, and she felt a strange pang of guilt. She did not know this Lei, and she barely knew Daine. With each passing hour, she felt ever more alone. She was the last of the Jalaq Qaltiar, and the voice of Vulkoor had forbidden her from following her kin along the paths of death. Her destiny had been bound to this Daine. These three were the only family she had left, and while she did not know Lei, she meant her no harm. She would have offered the same swift mercy to any member of her tribe suffering from a lingering ailment.

“That would be unwise,” Pierce said. “You may not care for Lei as we do, Xu’sasar, but she is our guide
in this place. Without her, our odds of survival are slim.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Xu’sasar said. “Starvation is a slow death, and if her soul is already lost, I should not wish to watch her body suffer.”

Daine’s scowl deepened.

“Let us hope it does not come to that,” Pierce said. “My lady has a strong spirit, and I am certain she will rise again.”

Xu’sasar cast about her mind, searching for words of apology. In the end, she simply clicked her tongue and bowed her head, breaking contact with Daine’s accusing gaze.

She felt his hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly at the unfamiliar touch but raised her eyes. His expression had softened, and he pointed at the bed.

“I do not understand,” she said. Was this some sort of sexual overture? Despite the growing bond she felt with the trio, they were still outlanders.

“I believe that the captain is offering you the remaining space on the bed, so you may rest in comfort,” Pierce said. He paused, then continued. “I believe that he is unaware that your race does not sleep.”

Daine’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced at Pierce.
Not sleep?
he mouthed.

“Indeed,” Xu’sasar said. “This weakness was purged from our kind in the time of horror, when darkness struck at the dreams of the mighty.” She looked at Daine. “Take this comfort for your own. I shall watch over you.”

Daine shrugged. He glanced at Pierce.

“I will guard the door, captain. Do you wish to obtain food before you sleep?”

Music had begun anew in the common room, and
the sound of laughter rose through the floor—Daine’s laughter. Daine frowned as he heard, and he shook his head. He sat down on the bed, and for a time he stared at Lei. Then he removed his armor and settled onto the bed next to her. Moments later, he was fast asleep.

Xu’sasar looked at Pierce. The warforged towered over her, and he watched her with glowing eyes. Moments passed in silence, neither one moving. She wondered if he was evaluating her potential as a threat, considering the ways he would defeat her if they faced one another in battle. That’s what she was doing as she studied him. She knew that this man of metal was an ally, and she respected his skills as a hunter and fellow traveler in the night. But he was still a strange and unnatural creature. As she looked at him, the memory rose of the being who had transformed into a storm of razors—the creature who had killed her father and left her for dead. The desire for vengeance against this Harmattan still burned within her, and when she looked at Pierce it was difficult not to see the shadow of that monster.

“I will stand outside the door and guard the hall,” Pierce said. “From that position, I will be able to hear the events in the common room below, and any sounds of alarm from this room. You will defend my companions?”

“With my blood,” she replied.

Soon Xu’sasar was alone with the sleeping humans. She knelt in a corner of the little room, setting her back against the wall. She drew her bone knives and let her thoughts drift across the linked weapons, watching them ripple and shift in response.
The Tooth of the Wanderer
, the man had called it.
A weapon of destiny, the blade you were born to carry
.