The City of Towers

CHAPTER 32

As they left the King of Fire, Lakashtai drew up her hood, hiding her face in deep shadow. “Tell me everything,” she said. “How did this begin? What do you know of this hostile spirit?”

“My companions and I were attacked last night on the streets of High Walls. It seemed like a simple mugging, but the leader had this strange laugh that seemed to get into my head, making it difficult to concentrate. After we’d brought down his allies, he … well, I don’t know what he did, exactly. I was overwhelmed with this rush of thoughts and emotions, as if he were pouring his entire life into me. Then we both blacked out.”

“This was almost twenty-four hours ago?”

“Yes.”

“We should have privacy, but this will have to do.”

They’d come to a building that was apparently an inn. Like many of the structures in the Folly, it was one of the strangest buildings Daine had ever seen. The walls seemed to be made of thick crystal, and the torches inside the building spread a glowing radiance across the entire structure. There were no windows, though in a sense the entire building was one large window. Daine could see people moving about inside, though the distorting effect of the thick crystal walls obscured details.

Stepping inside, they found that the entire building was made of crystal. The surface of the floors was rough, providing traction and a high degree of opacity, but floors, walls, ceiling … all were solid glass. Daine wondered how such a thing could ever be constructed-undoubtedly Lei would know. The furnishings were standard wood and brass, and would have been at home in any Brelish farmhold. Somehow, the presence of such mundane furnishings only enhanced the bizarre nature of the architecture.

A young man with long white hair approached them as they entered. At first he seemed to be wearing a simple white shirt and a pair of brown breeches, but as he came closer Daine say a faint motion in the air around him, and realized the man was also wearing a greatcoat woven from invisible cloth.

“Welcome to the Glass House, travelers,” the host said. “If you have come for the evening meal, we are serving the finest ghostfish in Sharn this evening, along with-”

“A room is all we require,” Lakashtai said. She produced a platinum coin that would have bought a month’s stay in the Manticore. “Time is of the essence.”

The host’s eyes gleamed and the coin quickly vanished. “Please, follow me, travelers.”

The walls were made of glass, but the doors were rough wood, and they almost seemed to be floating amidst the firelit crystal. The room itself was surprisingly sparse, though Daine imagined what Lei might say if she heard that he’d been in a room with a real bed. Embedded in the wall was an everbright lantern with a shutter to hide the light from sleeping eyes.

“Lie down,” Lakashtai commanded. Her words were a song, but there was iron behind the music. She drew her hood away from her face. “Continue your story. What became of the man who attacked you?”

“He fell into a coma, then about an hour ago I thought I saw him on the street. But apparently, I’d passed out and the encounter was all in my mind. We fought and I managed to defeat him, but I doubt the trick I used would work a second time.”

“The physical conflict is only a metaphor,” Lakashtai said. “But you are correct. The longer the spirit stays within you, the more power it will gain and the harder it will be to overcome. You cannot resist it forever.”

Daine nodded glumly. “I figured as much. Is there anything that can be done?”

“I have a … friend who can help you,” Lakashtai said. “If you are willing, she can reach your mind and attempt to excise the foreign spirit. It’s dangerous, but …”

“What choice do I have?” Daine said. “So, what’s the price of my freedom? I’ve told you I don’t have coin to spare. I’d have to sell my sword to pay back the price of this room, and it isn’t even my sword.”

Lakashtai raised his chin with a finger and stared into his eyes. Her skin was smooth and slightly cold, and as before her gaze was deep and hypnotic. She released him and looked away.

“My people were engaged in spiritual warfare long before the rise of Galifar-before your Cyre ever existed. You cannot put a price on a soul. I will help you because I can.” She looked back at him. “All I ask is that if I should need your help in the future, you remember what I have done for you.”

“Very well.” Daine didn’t like the thought of being indebted to anyone, and the situation was unfolding with remarkable speed. But he could feel Monan’s power growing, could hear the changeling’s voice whispering in the back of his mind, and he felt flashes of emotion that had nothing to do with his own desires. “What do I do?”

“Lie back. Let your thoughts wander. By now, your enemy will be gathering his power, preparing for his next attack. Don’t try to resist. Whatever happens, whatever threat he presents, don’t fight back. Let my friend handle everything.”

She leaned in close to him, and for a moment Daine thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she touched her forehead to his. Her eyes filled his field of view, and her scent filled his mind-strange and exotic, yet somehow intimately familiar, an old friend he had forgotten.

“Let go,” she said, and he fell into her eyes.

“So here we are again.”

He was outside the Manticore, and Monan’s voice rang through the air. The changeling was leaning against the door of the inn.

Daine said nothing.

“Your grandfather was a poor choice,” said Monan, walking toward him. “Perhaps he was a professional soldier, but you were used to fighting him, and that was my mistake. But there are so many weapons I can use against you.”

The surroundings changed, and Daine found himself in a luxurious manor-Alina Lyrris’ estate in Metrol, which Daine hadn’t seen for eight years. The floors were covered with soft bearskin, the air filled with the scent of cinnamon and rich perfumes. Daine knew what Monan was trying to do, and he expected to hear Alina’s voice next. But it was Lei who appeared nearby.

“Now, what do you suppose I would think if I knew about this?” Lei said. “I never thought you were capable of such things, Daine. But neither did you, did you? Does it still trouble you? Or has the war burned the shame from your system?”

She came closer, and Daine saw a glint of metal in her hand. A knife? Instinct brought his hand to the hilt of his sword, but memory weighted down his thoughts. Why fight it? Despite his best efforts, what difference had he made over the last eight years? Cyre was gone and he was working for Alina again. What was the point?

But even as he let go of his sword, even as Lei came closer, he felt a presence, something fundamentally … other.

Look away, Daine. Close your eyes.

The thoughts came from within his own mind, yet he knew they were Lakashtai’s. Even as he glanced away, he saw a shadow falling over the false Lei, saw a look of pure terror on her face. He closed his eyes. There was a horrible, gurgling scream … and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was still Lei’s voice. It was a sound that would haunt his dreams for years to come.

When Daine opened his eyes, he was lying on a soft bed in a room of glowing crystal. He felt no trace of Monan in his mind, and Lakashtai was nowhere to be seen. A small shard of green crystal was on the bed next to him. He picked it up. It was cool to the touch, and for a moment he felt the touch of kalashtar fingers on his hand.

He slipped the crystal into his belt pouch, picked up his cloak, and left the glowing room for the dark streets below.