The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (7 page)

T
he planar transition was completed successfully, but this vessel has suffered considerable damage
. In this instance, Shira’s insight was unnecessary. A web of fine fractures spread across the ceiling, and powdered glass and crystal shards littered the floor. The lines etched into the floor still burned with mystic light, but that radiance was faint and flickering, and many of the sigils scattered around the chamber had faded completely.

What is the impact of the damage?
Pierce thought.

Any attempt at further travel would likely result in the destruction of the vessel and all aboard
.

Lei had apparently come to the same conclusion. “Let’s hope we’re in the right place, because I don’t think this hunk of crystal’s going anywhere soon.”

“What was that?” Daine said, running a finger along the crack on one of the walls.

An attack by some form of predator native to the ethereal plane
.

I thought there were no ethereal orb-eating—

It wasn’t a whale
.

It was the first time Shira had actually interrupted his train of thought, and it was a disturbing sensation. But
even as he considered this, he could feel the spirit’s remorse.

It has been a considerable time since I have been able to share my thoughts. I do not intend to interfere with your actions
.

But could you?

There was no response. Shira was not an active presence in Pierce’s mind. He could only feel her when she “spoke,” and when she chose to retreat there was no way for him to sense her thoughts or emotions.

Was he concerned?

A moment ago, he had allowed Shira to take control of his voice. It was Shira who had concluded that beneath her bravado, the drow woman was confused and afraid, and it was Shira who spoke the language of the dark elves. While Pierce focused his attention on his bow, remaining ready to loose an arrow the instant danger threatened Lei, Shira spoke through him and tried to calm the drow warrior. She had asked his permission, and Pierce
felt
as if he’d been in control of the situation, but could she have taken his voice against his wishes?

We were designed to work together
. The thought blossomed in his mind.
I have no desire to take away your freedom
.

But could you?

“Pierce?”

Lei’s voice pulled Pierce from his reverie. Both Daine and Lei were staring at him. Usually he could listen to Shira and another conversation at the same time, but this time he’d been so distracted by the inner voice that he’d lost track of the outside world.

Daine asked if you were prepared to explore
.

“Yes, captain, I am ready,” Pierce said. “I apologize, my lady. There is much on my mind of late.”

Daine nodded, but Pierce could see concern—or
was it suspicion?—in his eyes.

“Well, Lei,” said Daine, “open it up.”

Lei laid her hand on the center of the floor.
“Doreshk tul’kas,”
she murmured, invoking the powers of the sphere. Light pooled around her hand and surged toward the wall. A moment later the glass fell away from the light, opening a portal to the outside world.

And the night flowed in.

There was only a whisper of wind, but the change in the atmosphere was remarkable. The air of Thelanis was moist and rich, heavy with the scent of grass and fresh rain. Both Karul’tash and the crystal capsule had been dry and sterile, and his three companions paused to enjoy the cool breeze and fresh air. Pierce didn’t breathe. Though he felt the change in temperature and humidity, there was no pleasure in it; the sensations were simply information, warning of what might lie beyond the portal. He glanced at Daine and received a confirming nod. Bow in hand, Pierce slipped through the opening and into the world.

The ground was cool beneath his feet: soft soil, sedge grass sheened with evening dew. Pierce took a step to the left, his back against the crystal shell of the sphere, and surveyed his surroundings. They appeared to be in the middle of a vast, rolling plain. A few small shrubs scattered across the landscape, but no trees could be seen. What stood out were the stones. These outcroppings of gray rock varied tremendously in size, ranging from boulders barely the size of Pierce’s head to massive tors that dwarfed the planar carriage. Faint patches of light glistened on the stones—some form of phosphorescence, which gave the impression of ghosts clinging to the granite shards. The sky was the pure black of deep night, clear of all clouds. A multitude of
stars filled the heavens, surrounding a single moon: a full orb larger than any of the twelve moons of Eberron. Pale gold, its dim radiance spread across the moors below.

Pierce circled the sphere. The plains stretched out in all directions. While the stone outcroppings offered easy cover for enemies, Pierce could see no motion. Returning to the portal of the orb, he gestured to Daine—
Clear passage
.

Daine emerged from the orb, both blades drawn and ready. Lei followed him; she held her staff, and Pierce clearly heard a faint moan as the artificer passed him.

As Pierce’s gaze passed over the darkwood staff, a thought occurred to him.
The powers of the object are masked and cannot be determined
. He felt a faint hint of frustration, and he was certain that this was an echo of Shira’s injured pride. At first he’d thought that the spirit had no emotions, that it was a purely analytical entity; but the more they communicated, the more he felt that he was gaining deeper insight into the personality of the construct. He glanced at Lei’s staff again. The head was carved to resemble the face of a woman with delicate, fey features, whose long hair wound down around the shaft of the staff. This face was turned toward him, and Pierce had the distinct sense that the staff watched him.

“Onatar’s hammer,” Lei breathed. She had turned away from the field and was gazing up at the sphere itself. Pierce followed her gaze. He had never acquired the habit of swearing, but it was easy to see what drew the words from Lei. There was a crater in the shell so wide that Pierce could crouch inside it; cracks spread out around the deep wound.

“Can you explain that?” Daine said.

Lei shook her head, eyes wide. “My first ethereal jaunt, I’m afraid.”

“And hopefully our last, if they’re always this much fun.”

“Well, we’re not using this sphere again,” Lei said. She ran a finger along the hull. “Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t shatter when we struck the planar barrier.”

“The stars are wrong.” None of them had seen the drow woman emerge from the sphere, but somehow she had slipped past the trio. Now she stood a dozen feet from the sphere, gazing at the sky. The wind ruffled her long, silver hair.

“That’s right, princess,” Daine said. “We’re not in Xen’drik anymore.”

Xu’sasar studied the stars with a fierce intensity. Finally she turned to face them. “Let us kill something,” she said.

Daine and Lei exchanged glances. “Why would we do that?” Lei said.

Xu frowned, clearly confused by the question. “It is the simplest way to learn the nature of this place.”

“Have you ever heard of maps?” Daine shook his head. “Pierce, I don’t know where we’re going, but I want more information. Give me a circle, one league around our current position. Swift and silent, and …” He glanced at Xu’sasar. “… don’t kill anything you don’t have to.”

“Understood,” Pierce said.

“Be careful if you see any lights,” Lei put in. “The stories of Thelanis often mention floating lanterns that try to lead mortals astray.”

“Understood.”

“And I will accompany you, in case there is anything to kill,” Xu’sasar said.

“Or you’ll stay here,” Daine said. “All I want is information.”

“Which is why—”

“—you’ll let Pierce do his job,” Daine said. “You want to kill the walking junkpile we left in Xen’drik? Then we need to work together. And when I say ‘work together,’ I mean you’ll do what I say.”

Xu’sasar said nothing; she turned her attention back to the stars.

“Pierce, you know what to do.”

“Yes,” Pierce took a moment to study the stones around the crystal sphere, imprinting the shapes and patterns in his memory; he wanted to make sure he could find his way back. Then he set off into the darkness, another shadow in the night.

Pierce had already seen that the smallest of the stones scattered across the field were the size of his head. It was only when he drew closer to one of these boulders that Pierce saw that it
was
a head … a sculpted face, staring up at the sky. The first one Pierce found was the face of a male elf, with delicate features and long tapering ears; the eyes of this stone eidolon were covered with phosphorescent moss, gleaming in the darkness. The head was half-buried in the soil, and Pierce wondered if it might just be the face of a complete statue, its body buried beneath the earth.

Anything to add?

Stay out of sight
. Shira’s thought seemed curt, and she did not respond to further queries.

The granite elf was just the first of the visages Pierce encountered as he made his way across the plain. A human child, a wrinkled gnome, a dwarf with a
luminescent beard—Pierce could see no pattern to their placement, no common theme save for the fact that they all gazed up at the moon. Only when he reached the crest of a small hill was he was able to gaze down on one of the larger tors, and then he realized: They were
all
faces. The features of large outcroppings were rough and grainy, and seemed to be the work of wind and weather as opposed to hammer and chisel, but they were still recognizable as humanoid heads, patterns of hair traced out in strands of glowing moss. Silence ruled the valley. There was an utter absence of insect sounds, no calls of night birds. Just Pierce, making his way across the valley of faces.

The faces weren’t the only thing Pierce found as he surveyed the plains. The region might be still and silent, but it wasn’t empty. The trails in the damp grass were almost invisible, but Pierce had tracked Valenar commandoes through the forests of Cyre, and he could see the patterns of passage. Large, canine tracks—wolves, most likely, though easily the size of ponies. Occasionally Pierce caught traces of a horse’s passage, but these tracks were old and faint, fading in and out as if the stallion were leaping hundreds of feet at a time.

He’d been walking for nearly a quarter hour when he heard the howls.

The calls were deep, the full-throated baying of hounds as opposed to the cries of wolves. The sound was closer than Pierce had expected from the faint trails. After a moment of silence, the calls began again, even closer. Pierce already had his back to one of the stone buttes; he made his way up the barren edge of the tor, finding a narrow ledge a good distance from the ground. Pierce set an arrow to his bowstring and waited.

The hounds arrived. There were two of them, both larger than any wolfhound Pierce had ever seen. Their coats were thick and glossy—and the color of fresh, wet blood. Muzzles, ears, and paws were darker and dull, as if this blood had dried and clotted. The eyes of the beasts were pale rubies, shimmering in the moonlight, and steam poured from the nostrils of the lead hound as he tasted the air.

Pierce remained perfectly still. Both hounds lowered their snouts to the ground, snuffling through the grass. Certain that they had found his scent, Pierce considered the best angles of attack. He was confident the beasts couldn’t reach him on his ledge, but he had no idea what sort of help they could summon if they escaped. One of the hounds raised its head. Its gaze fixed on Pierce, and as it opened its mouth to howl, Pierce loosed an arrow.

Xu’sasar struck before the arrow reached its target.

She seemed to materialize out of the night, shadows trailing from her skin like mist. She carried no weapons, but it made no difference. Her elbow slammed into the mastiff’s throat with tremendous force, cutting off the howl before it began. Her rigid fingers darted toward the beast’s eyes, striking with a scorpion’s speed, but Pierce looked away before the blows landed; the second hound was still on the loose. He needn’t have been concerned. This beast wasn’t as alert as its companion, and it was still turning toward the drow when one of Pierce’s arrows passed through its throat. Pierce’s second arrow sent the creature tumbling to the earth, but to his surprise, it didn’t remain there long. It was as if the creature was in fact made of blood. It
melted
, flowing out across the grass. A glance confirmed that the same fate had befallen Xu’sasar’s prey.

Pierce leapt down from his perch, kneeling to study the grass. Traces of blood were already evaporating. Even the trail left by the beasts was faint, as if their feet had barely touched the ground. The blood on his arrows quickly faded. Within moments, there was no sign of the battle.

“Daine told you to remain behind,” he said, not looking at Xu’sasar.

“He is not of my family,” she replied, moving up beside him. Her bare feet were silent against the grass, and her voice was a quiet song. “I wished to hunt, and to find information. And I have done both.”