The Gates of Night

CHAPTER 13

Chaos. That’s what troubled Daine.

“We’re following a haunted stick, which is going to help us to hunt a boar,” Daine said, “because a scorpion says that’s the only way we can get through the night. And why do we think this makes sense?”

“It’s not about sense,” Lei replied. “This is Thelanis. This is the source of faerie tales and superstitions. Remember the story of the Tower of Thorns, where Kellan kills the ogre and its ribcage becomes a ladder? That’s what we’re dealing with. This is a world of magic, not logic.”

“So you’re saying that we should believe it because it doesn’t make sense?”

“No. I’m saying that it doesn’t matter.” Lei raised her staff. “The spirit in the wood wants to lead us somewhere. We can choose to follow. We can look for a boar. Or we can wander aimlessly around this wasteland waiting for more stars to fall from the sky and kill us.”

Daine glanced at Pierce, who had remained silent throughout the exchange with the scorpion. “Pierce, anything to add? Any insight from your mysterious friend?”

“No,” Pierce said. “My companion is disturbed by this realm. It is sensitive to the flow of mystical energies, and the ambient level of magic in this place is causing it pain. I agree with Lei. We have nothing to lose from hunting this beast, and I would rather pursue a goal than act without guidance.”

“Why do you question this?” Xu’sasar said. The drow girl was just behind Daine, having slipped closer while he talked to the others. “We have a goal now, a path to follow.”

“I don’t like other people choosing my path,” Daine said. “Still, we don’t have much of a choice. But let’s not go into this blind. Lei, I want you to charge Pierce’s bow. Make it more effective against animals. I want this to be as quick as we can make it.”

“Be without fear,” Xu’sasar said, even as Lei took Pierce’s bow and began whispering over it. “Mine is the speed of the shifting panther, and I strike with the skill of the scorpion. This beast shall not escape us.”

“I’m not worried about it escaping,” Daine said. “Let me explain something to you. If you’re going to stay with us, you need to do what I say. When I come up with a plan, you follow it. If you can’t do that, go looking for your own boar. I don’t care how fast you are. We work as a unit, or not at all.”

Daine expected a hostile response. Instead Xu’sasar glanced down at the ground. “I meant no harm with my actions. I am the last of my tribe. Now my place is with you, and I will do as you say.”

Her voice was low, her words slower than usual. For a moment, the mask of the deadly warrior seemed to fall. Since the fight in the planar sphere, Xu’sasar had been arrogant, overconfident, grating. But … last of my tribe. Daine had expected her to be grateful to be saved, but he’d never considered what she’d lost. He didn’t know her relationship to Shen’kar or the other drow that had died at Karul’tash. But she was alone, just as far from home as the rest of them were, without even the comfort of familiar faces. It was impossible to tell her age-had she been human he might have guessed eighteen or twenty years, but an elf could reach a century with few signs to show for it. Still, in this moment she seemed like a child, embarrassed, lonely, and confused. She wanted to help, to impress him with her skills, and he’d snarled at her.

“I know you’re skilled. I’m sure we’ll need your help if we’re going to get through this. I just need you to follow my orders. I need to know what my people are going to do. Strike out on your own and you place us all in jeopardy. Understood?”

Xu’sasar didn’t look at him, but she clicked her tongue. Daine remembered the drow captain Shen’kar doing the same thing as a sign of affirmation. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, and found only empty air; dejected as she was, Xu’sasar apparently had no need of physical comfort.

“Done,” Lei called.

“Good. Now, make a tangler. We let your staff lead the way, and hope that it has a taste for boar. Xu, Pierce, I want you flanking, searching for spoor. If the staff doesn’t do its job, we’ll have to do this the hard way. When we find the boar, Lei uses the tangler to root it to the ground. Pierce brings it down from a distance. Xu, you and I stay by Lei, and we engage the creature only if it breaks loose. Is that clear?”

Xu’sasar clicked her tongue again, and the others nodded.

Daine scratched his back and allowed himself to smile. “Good. Now stay alert. We’ve dealt with bloodhounds, falling stars, and scorpions. Surely we can handle one little boar.”

“That’s no little boar,” Daine said. “You’re sure about this?”

Lei nodded, and her staff murmured in acquiescence.

They were clustered at the base of one of the massive stone faces, looking down into a valley. A minute ago, Pierce had seen what they’d first taken to be a torch, moving through the night. It was no torch. It was Colchyn, the Great Boar of the Hunter’s Moon. The beast was easily the size of a full team of horses. Black bristles covered its body, and a ridge of flame ran down its back; the same fire burned in its eyes, and sparks flew from its nostrils as it snorted and smelled the air. Pierce racked his brains, trying to come up with some sort of plan that would keep them from going toe-to-hoof with this monstrosity, but nothing came to mind. He studied the sheltering tor, wondering if they could climb it, but another glance at the beast dispelled that notion. He was sure the boar could reach them even if they did climb atop the sculpted face.

“This cannot be avoided.” Once again, Xu’sasar had slipped just behind Daine. “This is our trial. Let us face it with courage.”

“We’ll need more than courage. Lei, how about some haste?”

She nodded, reaching into her pack and producing her mystical tools.

Daine peered around the edge, studying the approaching monster. “Try the tangler. I doubt it’ll hold this thing, but we’ve got nothing to lose. Pierce, keep your distance and just hit it as hard as you can. With Lei’s enchantment, your arrows are still our best weapon.”

“Understood,” Pierce said.

“Xu,” Daine said. “I know you held your own against those bloodhounds, but do you really plan to punch this thing?”

“I do not fight with only my fists. I strike with the scorpion’s sting and the chill night. I have no fear of this creature.”

Daine was tempted to tell her to stay back. Kicking a beast the size of a barn was madness. Still, Xu’sasar was swift even without Lei’s magics, and distraction was what he wanted. “If it breaks free, do what you can to keep it off-balance. If we stay on opposite sides and keep hitting it … we need to buy Pierce as much time as we can.”

“What about me?” Lei said. She’d just finished painting a silver symbol on a quartz disk.

“Stay out of the way.” Daine said.

“What? Are you-?”

“This isn’t a discussion. I know you can take care of yourself. But look at that thing. One kick and I’m bleeding out in the dirt. You’re the only one of us who can heal, and I need you to stay out of harm’s way. Stay back, and use that lightning rod of yours. Surely a blast from that will be more effective than a poke with your stick.”

He could feel her frustration, but he was right and she knew it. It made sense … and the fact that it kept her away from this monster was a fortunate coincidence.

“Let’s hope that scorpion wasn’t lying.,” Daine said. “Lei? Let’s have that speed.”

Lei closed her hand around the shard of stone and whispered an indistinct word. Daine felt only the faintest tingle through his muscles, but he knew what to expect. “Go!” he said, darting around the edge of the tor.

The boar was at the base of the hill, trotting toward them. Thanks to Lei’s magic, the beast seemed to be moving in slow motion, barely crawling up the slope. Still, at this distance Daine could see just how huge the boar was, and the thought of charging such a creature seemed ludicrous. Its tusks were as long as Daine’s arms, and flames licked around its massive hooves, searing the grass as it lumbered forward. It was a creature of nightmares.

But they’d fought nightmares before.

Lei was first to act. She’d woven the entangling charm into a curled root, and she flicked the makeshift wand toward the great beast. Vines and roots flowed up from the ground around the boar, twining around its legs and holding it fast. Pierce’s first volley of arrows flew through the air, blazing with eldritch fire. The beast howled as the missiles struck home, and Daine felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps the beast wasn’t as fearsome as it appeared.

Those hopes were soon dashed. The beast roared, its vitality undimmed by the arrows in its neck. Massive muscles flexed as it tore free from the binding roots, striding slowly across the treacherous ground. Pierce loosed a second volley as the boar emerged from the tangle, and lightning flared as Lei brought her wand into play. If the beast felt anything but anger, Daine couldn’t see it. It bounded forward, quickly closing the distance. It was time to move.

Grandfather, guide my arm, he prayed as he charged down the hill.

The beast snorted as it caught sight of Daine and Xu’sasar, dousing the warriors in a shower of sparks. Daine howled as he broke to the left, lashing out at a massive leg; he wasn’t sure if the monster noticed the blow.

Moments passed in a blur of sensation. Blazing hooves gouged great holes in the ground. Foul breath washed over him, long tusks sweeping down at his chest. Daine didn’t stop to think or plan; he just moved, instinct and supernatural speed keeping him ahead of the deadly blows. He slashed at its ankles, thrust at its nose, taking any opening he could find.

It was a masterful performance-but even a master could fall to such a monster. With each passing moment the blows came closer and closer, and Daine’s own strokes grew weaker. His back burned as a tusk tore through chainmail and flesh. The blow knocked him to the ground. He turned in time to see tusks descending-

And a dark shape flashed forward, diving into the jaws of the beast.

Xu’sasar.

Daine saw her for only an instant, but the image was burned into his mind. The web of silver-white lines tattooed across her inky skin gleamed in the faint light, but what truly struck him was her expression … a combination of grim determination and joy. There was no doubt, no fear. For a moment she was silhouetted, struggling to hold the creature’s jaws apart as it thrashed and gurgled. Then its mouth snapped shut, and Xu’sasar disappeared within.

There was no thought: only fury, a raw howl of not again! Daine cast his entire body into one final thrust, both hands wrapped around a blade blazing like the sun. As the sword sunk into the creature’s throat, Daine heard the roar of an army, the clash of a thousand weapons.

And the boar exploded.

There was no fire, no heat. The flesh of the boar seemed to expand, flowing outward and around Daine, and the world changed as it did. The boar was gone, and so was the barren moor.