Darkvision

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kiril Duskmourn's legs ached as if she'd ridden the stone destrier for days. Because she had.

Thormud insisted they always travel at night, avoiding villages and cities. They'd just passed a sizable town that Thormud had called Sezilinta. Normally, the fewer people Kiril saw, the better. And traveling in the dark usually suited her just fine, given her star elf heritage. But not tonight.

Tonight the sky was uncharacteristically heavy with clouds that veiled both moonlight and starlight. A constant spit of fine rain fell, slowly wetting every surface and penetrating every covering.

After just a quarter day's travel, Kiril's hair was matted with moisture, and water continually dripped into her eyes. Her sodden clothes were cold and clammy, even in the desert. She could hardly see more than a few yards ahead through the misty rain. And the stone seats that at first had seemed reasonably comfortable now worked at rubbing her skin raw. Plus, the seats were cold. Once, she mentally compared the seats to tombstones, then she couldn't banish the image.

She was more miserable than usual. And given her normal demeanor of low-grade irritability, that was a feat.

Worse yet, the old dwarf was in a talkative mood and kept badgering her with questions about her past. He should know enough not to pry, she thought. But maybe he was feeling the effects of the cold rain, too, if he was willing to rouse her ire by questioning her-and she'd given him clear signals that she'd rather be left alone. Was Thormud actually trying to get a rise out of her, just for some diversion on the long journey?

"So tell me again," Thormud asked Kiril from his seat ahead of her, "how old did you say your sword instructor was? Seven hundred?

That's old even for an elf, I hear."

Perversely, she decided not to give in to the geomancer's pestering with her usual stream of invectives. She merely grunted.

"And what about the human you were working for right before I employed you-he looked like he was ninety if he was a day. For humans, that's standing with one foot in the grave."

Kiril shrugged, knowing the dwarf couldn't see her. Her silence was answer enough. Another drop of water splashed into her left eye, and she roughly wiped it out.

"And me-I'm no dwarf lad in my first hundred. In fact, I'm probably in the last fifty years of my career."

"So?" Kiril finally asked.

"It's just that I wonder if you know anyone who isn't old."

Kiril grunted again. She said, "You know how I hate most people?"

"Yes…"

"I pick all my acquaintances old so they don't live long."

Thormud paused for a moment, then, "Ho ho! I've discovered my companion has secret aspirations to entertain, after all these years!

She's bitter, no doubt about it, but witty, too."

"Why don't we pass the time with you telling me about all the different layers of sediment below us, like usual?" asked Kiril. "That way, you get to yammer on and on about something you care about, and I get a nap."

"That's more like the elf I know."

Kiril restrained herself from reaching forward and throttling the dwarf's thick neck. Instead she said, "Let's rest. You said we might reach Adama's Tooth tonight. My muscles are all cramped with the cold.

I can protect you better if I can get the blood moving in my arms and legs again. If we face any more of the creatures like we fought a few nights ago…"

Thormud made several gravelly noises as if he were gargling pebbles. He was speaking Terran, commanding the stone destrier. The great creature's pace slackened to a trot, a walk, then ceased. It squatted down, allowing its riders easy egress.

Kiril stood and nearly slipped on the rain-soaked stone of the destrier's back. Thormud, despite his graceless manner, walked sure-footed off the destrier to the ground below. Anytime the geomancer walked on stone or earth, his footing was assured. He carried an earthlamp, whose normally warm glow was rendered pale and cheerless in the sleet. Xet rode on the dwarf's shoulder, unconcerned with the endless spray.

Thormud looked around the desolate landscape-what was visible through the mist-and said, "You broach an excellent point. That which faced us earlier was potent. I think it's time I call in a few favors for additional aid."

"Favors?"

"The elemental lords of the earth may hear my entreaty, and may respond with aid."

"Calling in the big swords, eh? Good idea."

The dwarf went about his preparations, which to Kiril looked identical to the preparations Thormud made before every geomantic endeavor. In other words, utterly monotonous. But what else was there to do?

First Thormud used the butt of his selenite rod to scratch an intricate circle into the earth. Then he poured colored powders into the four outer quadrants of the circle-red, blue, white, and brown-and finally black and white at the center, in a commingled pile. He had once told her that the powders represented the elements, but she had always believed only four elements built all of reality. Fearful of an overlong explanation, Kiril never asked why he used six colors.

Next the dwarf usually began mumbling in Terran. Not this time, Kiril noticed. Instead, he reached into his robe and brought forth a small package wrapped in leather. The package looked suspiciously familiar.

Kiril stopped her pacing and cleared her throat, trying to get the dwarf's attention. No luck-or he was ignoring her.

At the center of his circle, the dwarf unwrapped the package and revealed the purple crystal within. It was the remnant of the creature they had faced down a few nights ago.

"Thormud, you phlegm-brained flea haven, what are you doing with that?"

The dwarf, accustomed to Kiril's cursing, had the grace to look somewhat guilty as he said, "If I'm going to entreat the elemental lords of the earth for aid, I need to show them exactly the sort of threat I'm anticipating. Don't worry, I'm not going to…"

The crystal in Thormud's hand suddenly blinked on, shedding a haunting purple glow over the misty ground.

"Blood!" swore Kiril. "Cover it, or break it!"

The dwarf hurled the crystal away. It flew thirty or so feet and shattered on a rock. Its light stuttered and failed.

For a few heartbeats, Kiril gazed intently at the point where the crystal had shattered, waiting for any repercussions. She already clutched her long elven dagger in one hand. Nothing. Nothing in that instant, anyway.

The swordswoman turned her head to curse Thormud. But the geomancer was already involved in a new summons-he was lying stretched out in the center of his circle, mumbling. He'd better hide! It wouldn't save him from the tongue-lashing that brewed within her. The dwarf was the one who instructed her to keep that crystal covered!

Slight tremors and groaning rock gave signals that Thormud's summoning ceremony was working. He was calling something big up from the earth, Kiril judged.

A crack and flash snagged her attention back to where the crystal had shattered.

"Stuff it!" she swore, eyes wildly scanning for the source of the noise and light. Nothing-just darkness. She didn't believe it.

Something had looked out through that crystal when the dwarf had stupidly uncovered it so close to their goal. And like last time, something had been sent back to deal with the curious geomancer.

Whatever it was, it would be dangerous.

She walked slowly forward, dagger in one hand, her other hand poised to grab Angul. The sleet continued unabated, and the hollow tightness waking in her belly intensified the cold.

Another few steps… she paused. Kiril was moving too far beyond the light of the dwarf's lamp. If something had found them, its view of her, silhouetted against the light, made her a perfect target.

Great.

"I'm going to feed that dwarf his rod," Kiril promised aloud. She wove the dagger around, keeping it moving and fluid, but felt foolish without seeing a target to intimidate with her blade work.

She wondered, again, if she should acquire an enchanted blade in addition to Angul. A capable sword with no agenda.

Her dagger seemed so insufficient these days.

Yeah, no more stinking debate. Next time the opportunity arose, she'd procure something-maybe a flaming sword, or a starblade like Nangulis wielded before he'd sacrificed himself…

Something blurred out of the darkness toward her. She stabbed the dagger wildly, hitting a greenish shoulder as it smashed into her gut.

A massive foot slammed down on the instep of her left leg, trapping her foot. She tipped over like a felled tree and lost her grip on the dagger, which still jutted from her attacker's shoulder.

Standing over her, its right foot still pinning her left, stood a massive, demonic humanoid. It was almost twice her height! Green skin glistened under black leather armor, and a pair of short ivory horns protruded from its forehead. A jagged splinter of purplish crystal protruded from its chest. Half-dried blood slicked the armor around the wound where the crystal protruded. The crystal flashed, pulsing violet light into the rain-soaked night.

It growled and ground her trapped foot painfully into the dirt with its tremendous weight.

Her right hand fumbled at Angul's sheath. The creature kicked with its other leg, connecting with her hand as she grasped at Angul's hilt.

Angul spun across the dirt, and her hand flared with pain. The moment of connection with the Blade Cerulean enlivened her enough to wrench her foot free. But the touch had been too brief. She hadn't gotten a real grip on the hilt. If she had, no force in the world could have broken her grasp.

She scrambled forward through the enormous creature's legs and stood up behind it, weaponless. The damned starblade she'd wished for moments earlier… she shrugged.

Nausea suddenly clawed at her stomach. Something about its presence… Her energy and will to resist trickled away as if the creature were a vortex and her health were seawater. She jumped back as the monster whirled around, ebony claws scything the air. Even that small distance helped-the leaching of her strength faded, perhaps ended.

"Thormud, you bluntnub! Help me!" she screamed. The creature blocked her view of the dwarf and his summoning circle. She couldn't see what the geomancer was doing, and the dwarf did not respond. Her eyes darted left-there lay Angul, glistening with its cerulean-tinged luminosity. Thirty feet too far.

Her attacker spoke, using accented Common. "I have been instructed to make certain you never hold that weapon again." The crystal in its chest flashed and gleamed, sending disconcerting shadows across its monstrous visage.

"I'm going to rip your spine out through your mouth, you blood-baiting pimple," Kiril told the demon.

She feinted forward, but ran for her sword, a full-out sprint.

She glanced back. The creature opened its mouth and exhaled winter.

The falling rain between her and the creature froze into hail, and the water slicking her skin froze into a painful crust. The cold burned first, then numbed, and she fell, gasping. She was a half-dozen paces short of Angul.

"F-fu-blood!" she gasped. Kiril was as chilled as if she'd stood a half day unclothed in a blizzard.

The horned giant laughed and pointed an ebony-tipped claw at her.

A thin black ray etched the air, but she heaved out of the way… even farther from the Blade Cerulean. Where the ray touched, the sickly sweet odor of rot bloomed.

The ground shuddered, and the booming clatter of falling rock pealed into the rain-soaked night. The ground shuddered again, and again. Boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom. Something very heavy rapidly approached.

Both swordswoman and demon glanced toward the geomancer and his circle. The silhouette of a humanoid creature, larger even than the horned attacker, blocked Thormud's lamplight. The moving heap of earth and rock, about the size of a small tower, lumbered forward in a clumsy run. Its fingers were curled into clublike weapons. Jagged stones studded its upper arms, shoulder blades, and head, which was a blunt, nearly featureless lump of stone. High on its head protruded a natural mineral crown of uncut diamonds, rubies, and other flashing gemstones.

The creature, pounding the earth with each step, rapidly closed on the horned demon. This was who had answered Thormud's call-a creature the geomancer called "Prince Monolith." The dwarf had many friends and pacts with entities of the earth, though his relationship with Prince Monolith and the others was nothing like a master and servant relationship.

The ivory-horned assassin whirled to face the earthen elemental lord, forgetting Kiril. It shamed her that her muscles were so chilled that she could barely crawl toward the Blade Cerulean.

The dark monster again exhaled a swath of limb-numbing cold. Frost bloomed across Prince Monolith, riming its face, chest, and upper arms, but the elemental's charge was true.

The earth lord smashed a fist down on Kiril's attacker. It squealed and rocked with the blow, but remained on its feet. Instead of retreating, it lunged at Monolith and embraced the earth lord within the grasp of its night-dark claws. Prince Monolith attempted to peel the horned creature off its chest, but its claws bit deeply and held.

Kiril crawled another few feet, gasping and cursing… and suddenly Thormud was beside her. The dwarf helped her stand and proffered an open vial. The elf grasped it and drank. Healing warmth exploded in her stomach and radiated outward into all of her extremities, easing the worst of her chill and stalling the frostbite that numbed her fingers and toes. She mumbled thanks, but the dwarf was already running toward the altercation that raged between the two towering creatures.

The horned beast continued to gouge and score Monolith's chest and sides with its claws. Monolith staggered. Kiril had seen the earth noble take stronger blows with less effect. How…? She realized the demon's life-draining miasma was potent enough to affect even an elemental noble.

Prince Monolith thundered several harsh syllables, speaking the language of the earth Kiril couldn't comprehend.

Thormud replied in Common, answering Monolith's question. "No, you don't need to preserve it-destroy it if you can! The longer it survives, the more our enemy perceives! Be careful of the crystal in its chest-it is some sort of infection!"

The snarling demon, still gripping the elemental in its raking claws, growled in Common, "Meddle not in affairs beyond your ability, geomancer. You're-argk!"

Prince Monolith clamped his grip onto his tormentor and raised the creature high, each massive hand wrapped around one of the demon's arms. The creature's legs kicked violently in the air. Monolith boomed, "I free you from your bondage." So saying, he pulled. The creature came apart with a sound like burlap ripping. The elemental flung the two pieces to either side.

Kiril swallowed and focused on the remaining threat amidst the shower of gore.

The purple crystal that had been in the demon's chest rolled free, glaring a sickly violet light. Thormud raised his rod to smash the crystal, but the earth lord reached one gargantuan hand down and touched it. Immediately, the glow was doused. "I have power enough to suppress whatever infection hides in this fleck of stone," the elemental proclaimed.

Thormud lowered his rod and nodded, but eyed the apparently quiescent crystal. He addressed the earth lord. "Prince Monolith, you have my heartfelt thanks for honoring the accord we made so many years ago. You came to my summons quicker than ever before, and your unexpected celerity is appreciated."

"I sensed something wrong in the vacuous spaces above the mantle," replied the prince. "I came to see what you knew of it, and found your elf embattled with a seed of the very trouble I detected."

Kiril interrupted, shaking her head. "Still one for impressive-sounding words. What're you a prince of, anyway? I've always wondered."

Prince Monolith rotated his body to face Kiril. "You've grown crueler over the years," he observed.

She shrugged. "The world's a tough place when your flesh is mortal."

"The world tries those whose flesh is mineral, too."

She snorted and turned to retrieve Angul. She carefully avoided touching the blade's hilt as she slid him into his sheath. The blade steamed and hummed in frustration. So like a child in his unwavering, uncompromising desires. The old heartsickness welled up as she accidentally recalled what Angul had been.

"Tell me, then, Thormud Horn-what do you know about the poison shard controlling the flesh of your attacker?" As the elemental noble spoke, Xet winged in from the rain-shrouded darkness and alit on Monolith's shoulder. "Prince, it is a long story." The elemental nodded. Thormud continued. "We've traced twisted telluric currents and a disturbance I can't describe. That disturbance is related to these crystals. We've seen crystal of this sort before, integrated into a monstrosity different from what you just defeated. It seemed infected with an evil presence. I don't know if each crystal holds a separate evil, or if each stone is a portal through which a single presence can reach out and influence the world around it. I summoned you because we are near a potential nexus for this crystal, although perhaps not the true source of our troubles. I was hoping to ask for your aid when we arrived there." Monolith gazed down at the crystal with the empty caves of his mineral eyes. "I can tell you this. The mineral is not native to our earthly orb…" "Where's it from?" asked Kiril. Thormud motioned for her to be quiet, but the elemental lord took no notice.

He continued to stare intently at the dark, blood-slicked shard. Kiril muttered, "I'm thirsty," and reached for the flask of the verdigris god. She was still a little shaky after being so overpowered by the horned interloper. A couple of sips was just the thing to lift her spirits. "It is a mineral whose nature is quite strange," Prince Monolith finally stated. "It appears to be the sort of encrustation that might occur along the edges of an… expanding demiplane."

"Demiplane!" exclaimed Kiril. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, the contents of her flask still bitter in her mouth. "Yes," said Monolith.

The earth lord pivoted to face east, the direction they'd been traveling, toward Adama's Tooth. "I sense some resonance with the crystal in that direction. "But…" Monolith slowly pivoted again until he faced north, toward the line of mountains whose foothills they were already traversing. "… the largest, most malignant intrusion of this putrid crystal into the orb lies on the surface, that way." "East is the way to Adama's Tooth, not north!" exclaimed Kiril. Monolith shrugged his mountainous shoulders. "I believe you should reconsider your destination, lest you fail to find the true author of your misfortune and it instead eliminates you." "North lies Raurin, the Dust Desert. Certain death for any who are not desert-born. Or so I've heard," observed Thormud. "That may well be.

But the infection has its true source to the north." The dwarf nodded.

"North it is." Kiril said, "Thormud, we're so close to Adama's Tooth.

We should mop up whatever's brewing there, then head north afterward."

"I can lead you directly to the infection's source in Raurin," interjected Prince Monolith. "If you follow me, I will overstay the limits of our original pact. I will aid you until the infection is cut away from the orb, or until my ultimate destruction." Kiril paused in her protest, considering. In her experience, the amount of time that elementals even half as powerful as Prince Monolith persisted was usually counted in heartbeats, never days. "Prince Monolith," responded Thormud, "your generosity, as usual, is without bound. We accept your kind offer. Please lead us north and help us heal the earth of this wound." "I will." "Great," muttered Kiril. "Let's head blindly north, into the desert. Sounds like a dripping great idea."

Being a practical elf, she knew that investigating the nearer Adama's Tooth was still a better idea, all else being equal. Even if it wasn't the primary source of these blood-damned crystals, discovering whatever lay within the rock could provide clues about the nature of the disturbance in Raurin-clues that might help them prepare to meet a completely unknown threat. Perhaps even the kind of clue that would prove the difference between their success or ultimate failure. She shrugged. "What about this crystal? Is it dead now?" wondered the swordswoman. Thormud stepped closer, pointed his selenite rod at it, and uttered a sharp word. The crystal began to tremble as if it convulsed with a shiver of ever-increasing frequency. A heartbeat later, it shattered into ineffectual dust. "Yes," said the dwarf.

Kiril smiled. That smile faded as she observed the old dwarf walking away, his steps unsteady, and perspiration on his brow. Her employer wasn't well.