The Gates of Night

CHAPTER 15

You carry the greatest treasure of the house in your veins. Your blood is our power. This is a glorious gift, and a fearsome responsibility.

Daine had abandoned House Deneith many years ago. Even as a child, he hadn’t paid much heed to his father’s lessons. At the time, it had seemed like so much arrogant propaganda, designed to preserve the power of the dragonmarked bloodlines. Daine had dismissed the warnings against mixing the blood of two houses, and the tales of the bitter war fought to purge this tainted blood. That was before Sharn. Now Daine remembered the wild eyes of the little girl who spoke to rats, and the chilling touch of the rotting man.

As our blood can produce champions, so can it produce monsters.

Rage and fear warred within him. Daine wanted to shout, to deny it, but even as he drew in his breath he knew it was the truth. Now that he knew it for what it was, Daine could feel the mark on his back. It was as if three living serpents had been fused to his flesh. He could sense the pattern they formed, their coils intertwined and woven together in an intricate pattern. Worse than that, he could feel them writhing. The terrible itching was no rash: it was the mark, moving against his skin.

“How?” he asked.

Lei shook her head. Fear rimmed her eyes, and Daine couldn’t decide if she was afraid for him or afraid of him. Lei had taken the lessons of her house to heart, and Daine remembered her horror when they encountered the aberrants of Sharn.

Daine took a step toward her, and Lei shrank away from him. Pierce moved between them, and a chill settled over Daine’s heart. He was certain that Pierce knew he wasn’t a threat, that the warforged was simply acting to reassure Lei. Nonetheless, the two were the only anchors he had left in the world, and to have both desert him at once …

Vertigo swept over him. The world spun around Daine, the ground rushed toward him, and his head slammed into the soil. Then he felt Lei’s hand wrap around his. Drawing strength from that contact, Daine pushed back the nausea. He made a cage of his thoughts and wrapped it around the writhing vipers, crushing them into a ball of energy and forcing it into the darkness.

Daine opened his eyes. His face was still pressed against wet grass, and his skin was clammy with sweat. The woman holding his hand braced herself and helped pull Daine to his feet.

“Thanks,” he said. He reached out to embrace his benefactor, and then stopped short in surprise. A woman had come to his aid, but it wasn’t Lei holding his hand … it was Xu’sasar. The drow’s silver eyes were locked on his, twin moons gleaming in the dark woods. In the past her pale gaze had always been unnerving; now it seemed softer. Still, it was not the face Daine had expected to see, and he pulled away.

Now Pierce was there, towering over him. “Can you stand, Captain?”

“I think I’m fine now,” he said. And it was true. The crawling, itching sensation was gone. He could feel the spark of energy burning within him, but it wasn’t entirely painful. He found that he felt sharper, more alert. Even the smell of fresh grass seemed strong and clear. For a moment he wondered … “Is it still there?”

“Yes,” Lei said. “I-” Her voice caught in her throat as Daine turned to face her.

“Fernia’s flames!” he swore. “We’re in the middle of the thrice-damned forest of eternal night. I didn’t ask for this to happen, and there’s no time for us to turn on each other. Lei, I don’t care how scared you are, I need you to tell me what’s going on!”

“Perhaps you did.” Pierce’s voice was steady and calm, slow flowing water.

“What?”

“Perhaps you did ask for it to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Daine said.

“The blue fluid you consumed last night. You said that it held the essence of Jode’s dragonmark.”

“Yes,” Lei said. “The blood of two dragonmarked lines … he’s right, Daine.” There was still fear in her voice, but now her curiosity was getting the better of it. She moved next to him. “Let me look.”

“Pierce, Xu, watch the forest,” Daine said. “See if you can find any signs of tracks. Sovereigns know what’s out there.” He turned his back to Lei.

“What does it feel like?” she said, searching through her satchel for tools. “You said it feels like a rash?”

“Yeah, sort of … itching, faint burning. I was trying to ignore it. It’s faded, though.”

“When did this begin?”

“Pierce is right,” Daine said. “I don’t remember noticing it until we were in the planar sphere … after I drank the blue liquid.”

“Let’s avoid any speculation right now,” Lei said. She produced a slender wand and chunk of crystal from one of the pockets of her bag. “At a glance, the pattern is reminiscent of a dragonmark. However, the pattern and color are inconsistent with any of the twelve true dragonmarks … which is, of course, the defining element of an aberrant dragonmark.”

Her voice gained strength as she spoke. Clearly describing it helped her feel more in control of the situation. Even Daine found himself feeling slightly better. This was what Lei did. Surely she’d find an explanation.

“What’s especially unusual is the size of the mark,” she continued. “I’ve never heard of an aberrant dragonmark larger than the least true dragonmark. They are invariably small enough to fit on the palm of the bearer’s hand. But this …” She walked around Daine, studying his skin. “I’ve only seen its like once before. In Metrol, one of my cousins was said to be marked by Siberys. He’s a legend in our house; he can create objects from pure thought, bringing imagination into reality.”

Daine twisted around, trying to look at his back, but he could only see a few vivid red stripes along his shoulder blade. Still, he remembered the pattern he had felt only moments ago, traced across his entire back. Lei was right. Daine had seen only one person with such a mark in his own house. And the size of the mark was always an indication of its power. “So what does this thing do?”

“I don’t know,” Lei said. Daine felt slight warmth against his skin as she passed the wand over it. “There’s no aura of magic, but that’s not unusual. Sometimes it’s possible to draw conclusions from the pattern, but I can’t make sense of it. Have you had any sort of unusual visions, emotions, anything like that?”

“I don’t know. Something like talking to a dead halfling in my sleep and having injuries disappear?”

Lei chewed on her lower lip. “Yes … that would qualify.”

“That hardly seems like a terrible thing,” Daine said. “If that’s the worst-”

“What makes you think that’s the worst thing you’ll have to deal with?” Lei said, her voice rising. “It’s an aberrant mark. You know the stories as well as I do! Madness. Sickness. You think talking to our dead friend is a good sign?”

Daine’s frustration grew. “I know the stories. And what if that’s all they are? You’ve never seen anything like this before. So why do you still believe something just because your parents told it to you? After all the lies-”

The world dissolved in a flash of agony, and Daine cried out in pain.

Lei had brushed her hand along the path of the mark. In that moment of contact, the spark that had been burning at the base of his spine flared into fire, burning a twisted path across his skin. Lei jerked back, and the pain subsided. Daine gasped for breath.

“Daine,” Lei said. “I didn’t … I don’t know what that was. The red lines along your skin glowed, and there was a burst of heat. Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” The spark had flowed back into his bones, and he slumped against the cool grass. “I guess talking to Jode isn’t the worst thing I’ll have to deal with.”

“Hold still.”

Daine felt a spot of warmth, growing stronger and sharper. “Just bringing my finger close to the mark is enough to cause a reaction,” Lei said. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“So if you touch me, it causes excruciating pain? Well, that’s just wonderful.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Daine. There’s got to be something we can do about it.”

“Not right now,” he said, pushing himself up and grabbing his shirt. “We’ve wasted enough time on this. As long as you don’t touch me, I seem to be fine; it’s not even itching anymore. So if you think you can keep your hands off me, let’s find our way out of these wretched woods.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Lei, the mark has most likely been there for at least a day. I’m not dead yet. But we could all be dead in a few hours if we don’t find a way out of these Flame-forsaken woods. So let’s get moving!”

Daine whistled a call to Pierce as he pulled his chain shirt over his padded vest. The answering call came quickly, and the warforged emerged into the grove.

“No sign of anything I would consider a threat, captain. No humanoid tracks beyond our own, no creatures larger than a fox.”

“You overlook the dangers, man of wood and metal.” Xu’sasar appeared next to Pierce, sliding out of the shadows. “There are birds in the trees, owls and other night hunters. There are eyes in the darkness. In the land of the living, such a creature may not threaten you. But this is the realm of the spirits, and size alone means nothing.”

“Well, Xu,” Daine said, “why don’t you tell us what we’re supposed to do, since you seem to be the expert here?”

“Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed! We’re in a forest!”

“Yes. We have bought our passage further into night. It is as the great scorpion told us. The gates to Dusk lie in the domain of the Woodsman. We have come to this spirit’s demesne. Now we must find our way to the gates themselves.” She turned to Lei. “You still hold the key, shaper.”

“The staff,” Lei said. She’d dropped the darkwood staff to tend to Daine, and even as she knelt down she paused before taking hold of it.

“Lei?” Daine said.

There was doubt in her eyes, but she finally shook her head. “She’s right. The staff does know the path, and we haven’t reached the end of it. There’s just … such anger and pain within the wood.” She placed her hand on the shaft, and stiffened slightly. A faint moan rose through the air, the whisper of an elven voice. “She knows where we must go,” Lei said, rising to her feet. “And she knows that danger awaits.”

“And it’s been so peaceful so far,” Daine said. But his smile was forced. Traces of pain lingered in his memory, and he could still feel the spark burning at the base of his spine, a reminder of the mystery etched across his back. This is no time for fear, he thought. Accomplish the mission. Keep moving forward. “Lead on,” he told Lei.

Khorvaire had its share of vast forests and jungles, and this wasn’t Daine’s first journey through deep woodlands. Yet there was something disturbing about it, something that lent credence to Xu’sasar’s tales of spirits and ghosts. None of the trees stood straight. They were gnarled and bent, their outspread limbs suggesting giants contorted in pain. Daine would swear that he could see faces in the wood, distorting the bark-but when he turned to look, trunks and boughs were unblemished.

Trees or no, eyes were all around them. Rodents rustled in the low shrubs, creating just enough motion to keep Daine’s nerves on edge. He caught sight of an owl the size of his head, a beautiful bird with black plumage and golden eyes. The creature sat in a high branch, watching the travelers below with proud indifference. Daine considered having Pierce shoot the bird, but it seemed pointless; he felt as if the entire forest was arrayed against them, and it was hard to imagine the death of one owl doing anything more than annoying whatever spirits might be present in the trees and the beasts. Besides, Pierce only had one arrow, and it seemed unlikely that a bird would be the greatest threat the forest had to offer.

Lei forged a path, pushing aside vines and shrubs with her whispering staff. She had enchanted one of her gloves, and pale white light illuminated the area around her. She pressed at a nest of vines-and jerked back as the web of interwoven boughs came to life.

“Balinor’s bow!” She jerked backward, nearly dropping her staff.

Daine pressed past her, his sword gleaming in the eldritch light. He saw three writhing tendrils disappear into the shadows, oily black and glittering silver. He poked at the underbrush and caught a glimpse of a pair of pale eyes, before it disappeared into the undergrowth.

Lei seized his arm. Daine flinched, waiting for the excruciating pain that had accompanied their last moment of contact, but all he felt was the pressure of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, breathing deeply. “I just … I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Only a few snakes,” Daine said. “It’s nothing to worry about. Let me take the lead. You just tell me which way to go.”

Lei nodded and Daine pushed forward. A few more serpents slid away into the shadows as Lei’s light fell upon them. Lei shuddered whenever she saw sinuous motion. Daine was certain there was something behind this strange fear. She’d seen far worse in the Mournland and the sewers of Sharn, and never reacted in this way. But he knew to leave it alone if she didn’t want to talk about it. They could survive a few snakes.

Then he looked up.

The trees were covered with serpents.

Black and silver scales were almost invisible against nightshadowed bark and the light of the moon, but now he saw the motion in the branches, the heavy coils hanging from the boughs. The viper that darted away from the light was barely as thick as his thumb; looking up, Daine found himself gazing into the eyes of a scaled beast whose head was larger than his own. Dozens of cold eyes were watching them, and looking at the silhouette against the moonlight, it seemed as if the trees themselves were moving.

Daine said nothing, glancing at Pierce. The warforged had his eyes on the canopy, his last arrow nocked to his bow. Should a serpent strike, Daine was certain it would fall with that arrow through its skull. Xu’sasar was nowhere to be seen, but Daine was beginning to expect that.

“I’m sorry, Daine,” Lei said, right behind him. “I know this is stupid, especially with everything you’ve gone through. It’s just … when I saw those snakes moving, I remembered that thing below Sharn. The mind flayer.”

She was talking about a horror they’d fought when they’d first arrived in Sharn, the squid-faced monstrosity that had murdered Jode and almost killed Lei. Daine could only imagine the trauma of seeing such a creature looming over him, tentacles reaching down to grip his skull … he could certainly understand her fear.

The ground was uneven, and a maze of treacherous roots hid beneath the carpet of moss. In the gloom of night, vines and roots were all too easily mistaken for snakes, the shadows creating monsters at every turn. But it was a different sort of serpent that brought their progress to a halt. Pressing forward, Daine saw a glittering, sinuous shape stretched across their path. It was no snake, nor even a living creature.

It was a river.

The river formed a canyon through the dense forest, a rift in the dense canopy of foliage. Looking up, Daine could see the sky. As on the moor, there was only one moon in the sky, but this moon was larger than the last had been, and silvery-white. The stars formed unfamiliar patterns, and Daine was comforted by how faint they seemed to be. The water of the river was eerily silent, and to his eyes it seemed perfectly still … as if it were frozen.

Daine knelt on the shore. He wasn’t much of a swimmer, but with water this calm, perhaps they could make it across. He could just see the far side of the river, another wall of trees rising in the darkness. As Daine knelt by the water, a sibilant whisper filled the air-the eerie song of Lei’s staff.

“Stop!” Lei’s voice was low and urgent. Her hand gripped his cloak, pulling with surprising strength; Daine stumbled, his left hand sinking into the moist earth as he flailed to keep from falling.

“What?”

“Don’t touch the water. I don’t exactly understand what she’s saying, but there’s great danger there.”

“Ah.” Daine looked out at the river. “So … this isn’t the way we want to go?”

Lei ran a hand along the staff, which moaned softly. “We need to cross the river,” she said, “but … we can’t touch the water.”

“What then? Do you have the energy to teleport us?”

Lei shook her head. “It took all I had left just to create the light. Perhaps we should rest here.”

Daine glanced over Lei’s shoulder and saw a twenty-foot snake slip up into the canopy. “I don’t think this is the best place to set up camp.”

“There is a bridge,” Xu’sasar said. The shadows seemed reluctant to release the drow woman as she stepped out from the forest and into the moonlight. “I can show you the way. It has a fearsome aspect, but it can provide the passage you seek.”

“Fearsome aspect?” Daine said.

“Yes,” Xu’sasar said. “The bridge is alive.”