The Gates of Night

CHAPTER 21

Don’t even think about eating that,” Lei said.

Daine paused, a chunk of bread halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“By the Sovereigns, you’re lucky your voice was all that you lost. Don’t eat the food. Did you have a mother?”

“She was a swordsmith,” Daine said. “My bedtime stories taught me the dangers of battle, not traveling through other planes.”

“Just trust me. Leave it alone. I’ll make you a bowl of gruel when we find a place to stop.”

“Oh, gruel,” Daine said, regretfully tossing the bread into the bushes. “Now there’s an appealing offer. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’ve got other things on my mind right now. You,” she said to Xu’sasar. “That weapon of yours. What is it?” Her voice was hard, her anger still searching for an outlet.

“It is nothing of your world,” Xu’sasar replied. “I said before, our people tell different tales.”

“Then tell me a story,” Lei said. “Because we’re not going anywhere until I choose our path.”

Pierce looked to Daine, but it seemed that the captain had chosen to leave this in Lei’s hands. Pierce himself was curious. While Xu’sasar seemed to be an ally, there was much they didn’t know about the drow girl. Where had this weapon come from, and what was it capable of?

Xu’sasar stared at Lei, silver eyes gleaming with the light of the moon. But Lei wasn’t backing down. Xu’sasar brought the bone blades together, and the two weapons merged, twisting into a longer sword with a blade made from a giant tooth.

The total mass of the weapon has increased, Shira observed. I am still unable to ascertain its true nature, but it holds great power, such that I can sense its energy, even over the ebb and flow of the realm.

“Behold the Tooth of the Wanderer.” Xu’sasar said. “The world is filled with spirits. You outlanders do not see them and do not heed their calls. Tree, scorpion, wind. Vulkoor the scorpion is predator and provider, and there is power and wisdom in his lessons.” She ran a finger along the opalescent vambrace covering her right forearm.

Scorpion chitin, Shira observed. Alchemically treated. Flexible but strong.

“The scorpion of our world is a symbol of Vulkoor, a lesson we must learn. So it is with all things in the first land, from the shifting panther to the foul giant.”

“I asked about the blade,” Lei said.

“Then listen,” Xu’sasar replied. “The great spirits are known by name. Hul’drac. Vulkoor. Kura’tra. Each one is a lesson, and each guides us down a particular path. But there is one who bears no name, who cannot be bound by a single form, a wanderer who follows every path, and none.”

Lei’s eyes narrowed. “And this Wanderer … does he give gifts, perhaps?”

The drow girl clicked his tongue. “Dangerous gifts, traps for the weak and unwary. The Wanderer is the lesson that remains unknown until the end, and those who survive will be stronger for it.”

“And you’re carrying his tooth? How is that even possible, and who would be fool enough to do such a thing?”

“The Wanderer is not bound to mortal flesh.” As Xu’sasar spoke, the blade in her hands shifted, transforming into the three-pronged throwing wheel she had used before. “The blade is an idea, just as the Wanderer is … chaos and change, bound together as tooth and bone. It is my destiny to bear it, and if I am strong, I will survive this task. Already, my blade restored the voice of Daine when you lacked the courage to act. Who are you to question it?”

Lei took a step forward, but Pierce put a hand on her shoulder.

“I understand your frustration, my lady,” Pierce said. “But perhaps it would be best to continue this conversation when we are no longer standing in the shadow of an enemy.”

Lei took a deep breath, then released it. “It’s not that easy, Pierce.” Lei looked at the forest around them, and a mournful whisper filled the air, the voice of the darkwood staff. “As long as we remain in this wood, the enemy is all around us.”

“The Woodsman,” Daine said. “In Aureon’s name, who is this Woodsman? The demon prince of lumberjacks?”

“No,” Lei said. “He’s not a woodsman. He’s the Woodsman. He’s the lord of this forest, a being of fey magic.” She raised her staff. “This is what he seeks. This is why he’s hunting us. He wants the spirit of the woman who was to be his wife.”

“Why does everyone want that thing?” Daine said. “And if it’s the source of all our troubles, then why in Aureon’s name don’t we get rid of it?”

“Do you not remember the words of the scorpion?” Xu’sasar said. “Only the spirit bound within can open the gate that lies at the end of our path. It is the key that will open the Gates of Night.”

“My vision said the same thing, Daine.” Lei stared into the carved eyes of the staff. “And she wants to be free. I won’t let her go.”

Pierce had come to expect sarcasm from Daine. So I can’t have a bite of bread, but you can keep the haunted staff?

Not this time. There was no twinkle in Daine’s eyes, no sardonic note in his voice. Daine had been just as worried about Lei as Pierce had, and surely Daine could sense her distress as well. He nodded. “So what do we do? How powerful is this Woodsman?”

“I don’t know,” Lei said. “I think … I hope … the staff can shield us. He’s lord of this forest, but the spirit in the staff was once lady of the woods. Her power is diminished, but I think that if we stay close together-very close together-she can hide us from his eyes until we can reach these gates.”

“And your magic stick can show us the path?”

“Yes,” Lei said, as the staff whispered again. “Yes, she can.”

“And what’s the range of this protection?”

Lei walked to the edge of the clearing, about twelve paces. “About this far, I think.”

Daine nodded. Steel gleamed in the moonlight as Daine drew his sword, and he tossed his dagger to the warforged soldier. “Pierce, you stay with her. Xu’sasar, you’re with me. Eyes sharp. Bird, weasel, anything you see … I want it dead.”

Xu’sasar smiled, and her twin blades merged together to form the bone throwing wheel she’d used against Huwen.

“Very well, Lei,” Daine said. “Lead the way.”

Lei led them off the path and into the forest. The staff was singing a song without words, a soft and mournful tune. The wood responded to the song. Vines rose up and out of their way, while roots that could catch underfoot sank into the soil. A new path opened before them, closing after they passed. Glancing back, Pierce could see that the ground held no trace of their passage; plant and soil shifted to cover their trail. Pierce wondered why Lei hadn’t called upon these powers earlier, and Shira responded to the thought.

The power of the staff grows as we move deeper into these woods. If these woods were once the stronghold of this spirit, her strength should be greater in this place, just as the power of your enemy is. She paused, considering. Or perhaps Lei has changed since rising from her sleep.

Pierce had wondered this himself. He was pleased that Lei was functional once more, and the mere sound of her voice brought a sense of satisfaction, of a mission completed successfully. Yet he could hear the tension in her words. Human emotions were often difficult for Pierce to recognize, but he had a bond with Lei; he felt her sorrow and her joy as if they were echoes, faint but clear. She was angry, but Pierce could feel the fear and confusion beneath that mask of anger. At first he thought it was merely the aftermath of the battle in the Crooked Tree. But as time passed, the tension remained, growing stronger with each passing hour.

“My lady,” he said at last. He moved closer to her, so he could speak quietly. “What troubles you?” He didn’t touch her. For all that he felt concern, Pierce was warforged, and he’d never taken comfort in physical contact. He could feel pressure against the metal plates covering his body, and it was painful when a blade tore through his rootlike muscles. But these were tactical indicators, not nearly as sharp as human senses. Pierce knew when he’d been injured, but he took little pleasure in touch.

Lei glanced at him. Pierce thought she was going to snarl, but when she finally spoke, he heard the fear and not the fury.

“Where do I begin?” she said. “I almost died in Xen’drik, Pierce. I should have died in Xen’drik. Instead, I repaired that shattered orb for Lakashtai. How did I do that?”

“Do you not repair me when I have suffered damage?”

“It’s not the same,” she said. “The power in that orb, the skill and energy that must have gone into making it … I wouldn’t know where to begin. I don’t know of a Cannith artificer alive who could make such a thing. And that’s just it. Why me? Why would Lakashtai go to all that trouble, all that trickery with Daine, to lure me to Xen’drik? Sovereign and Flame, she was in Sharn! Some of the finest minds of the house are in that city. Why me? And why go through that charade with Daine instead of striking at my mind?”

“At this point we know nothing about Lakashtai, my lady. Everything she told us may have been untrue. This makes it difficult to analyze her motives.”

“That final battle,” Lei said. “The other one-Tashana-why were they even fighting?”

They were beings of two different orders. Shira’s thought was a calm statement of fact. The one you knew as Tashana possessed a bond to a spirit of Dal Quor, the plane of dreams. This bond was a weak and vestigial thing; the spirit barely touched her soul. Pierce felt the faint touch of Shira sifting through his memories. This is in keeping with the beings you think of as kalashtar. The other served as a mortal vessel for a quori spirit, which was likely in full control of her actions. I suspect this spirit was truly Lakashtai-and the flesh you dealt with was a simple shell.

While this was intriguing, Pierce was more concerned with Lei. As upset as she was, he could sense something held back. “What happened to you, my lady? What happened while you slept?”

Lei stopped moving. She turned, looking into Pierce’s eyes, and he could see the fear within.

“What is it?” Daine said, as he and Xu’sasar caught up with them. “What’s wrong?”

Lei closed her eyes, massaging her temples with one hand. “I don’t know how to say this. When I fell, I had a vision. And-”

The staff screamed.

Lei convulsed, clutching at the staff and gritting her teeth to fight through the pain. “He knows,” she said. “He knows we’re here.”

A chill filled the air, and the wind rose around them. The growing gale howled in the distance, and the wind whipped branch and leaf. The darkwood staff moaned with the gale, singing an eerie counterpart to the rising storm.

“Stay close,” Lei said. “He knows we’re near, but we still might escape the eyes of his minions. And the gate … we’re almost there. I can feel it.”

“So do we run?” Daine said.

“No.” Lei’s voice was almost lost beneath the howling wind. Her eyes were distant as she listened to the song of the staff. “Wait. Wait to see if they pass us by.”

“Then fight back to back,” Daine said. “Pierce, cover Lei on the other side. And Xu, you heard her. If we’re attacked, we defend ourselves. But you strike the first blow and I swear I’ll kill you myself. Is that understood?”

The drow blew out her breath, but the sound was lost beneath the gale.

Pierce watched the woods. The storm shook the trees and drowned out all sound, but Pierce’s eyes were sharp. His flail was destroyed. He had one arrow for his bow, and then he’d have to rely on Daine’s dagger. Nonetheless, he felt warmth spread through him, the pleasing calm that always came before battle. Any doubts and uncertainty in his mind faded as every thought turned to the coming conflict.

There.

A flicker of motion, a shadow slipping behind a tree, darting out, moving forward to the next line of cover, passing across dense undergrowth as if it were open grass. And there-another, and another. There were at least six of them, no larger than halflings or goblins, features hidden by storm and shadow. No glint of metal on moonlight, but Pierce could see the silhouettes of swords and bows.

Thorns, Shira observed. Soldiers of the wood. Tough and sharp, resistant to mortal steel. But they can be fought.

Pierce touched Lei’s shoulder and pointed at the oncoming strangers. She nodded and flashed two signals with Cyran fingerplay. Hold position. Do not engage.

The thorns advanced through the forest, moving slowly and carefully. Now one stepped into the moonlight. The little man had rough green skin, and a layer of pine needles in place of hair. Its torso was covered by a jerkin made from large, leatherlike leaves. Pierce idly wondered if this was clothing, or if the leaves were a part of the creature’s skin. Its weapon was a thorn, a long thorn from some enormous plant, which the creature held as if it was a rapier. The little man’s eyes were dark and shiny, like little beetles-and they fixed directly on Pierce.

Calculations flashed through Pierce’s mind.

Distance to the foe.

The capabilities of Daine’s dagger.

Could Pierce reach the thorn and cut its throat before the creature could alert its allies? No.

Pierce wasn’t even certain that his weapon could hurt the thorn, or what its weaknesses were. Though human in appearance, its anatomy could be very different. More important, if Pierce abandoned his position he was both disobeying orders and leaving Lei vulnerable. He faced the creature, dagger ready, waiting for the thorn to close.

The green man moved forward, thorn-sword lowered. Then, just before it came within Pierce’s reach, it shifted its path and slipped past the group. Now there were thorns all around them, at least a dozen of the little creatures, but not one paid any mind to Pierce or his companions. The thorns kept moving through the forest. The storm lashed the trees, the wind howled, but within moments the thorns had moved on.

Lei caught his attention with a gesture. Follow. Her fingers flickered, using more complex signals difficult to catch in the dim light of night, but Pierce’s eyes were keen. Objective close.

Lei walked slowly through the storm-torn forest, bracing herself against the wind, and the trees moved out of her way once more. Moments became minutes as they moved farther through the wood. The storm raged, thorns scuttled through the shadows, but these lesser forces could not match the power of the staff.

Another thorn caught Pierce’s eye. This was the fifth of these creatures he’d had a good look at; the little man was only a few feet away. He was looking at Pierce and the others, but Pierce could tell that the green man couldn’t see him. Still, something was different about this thorn. While the man wasn’t looking directly at him, there was a look of intense concentration on his face. As if he were … listening.

Pierce reached out to grab Lei, but it was too late. The thorn raised a hand, and lightning flared in the sky. The ground exploded behind Pierce, forcing him away from his companions.

The staff stopped singing.

Your protection has fallen. The enemy is aware of your presence.

Movement all around him, thorns emerging from the woods and darting forward. Through his link to Shira, Pierce could feel the positions of his allies, feel them spreading to engage the foes. The thorn beside him kneaded the air with its hands, and as Shira’s knowledge flowed through him Pierce knew that the creature was gathering the power of the storm. Another instant and the lightning would strike again.

Pierce didn’t hesitate. He slammed into the thorn, knocking him to the ground and disrupting the complex spell the creature had been weaving. Before the thorn could react, Pierce drove his dagger into its throat.

A thin trickle of sap oozed from the wound, and the thorn jerked in pain. But it was not so easily felled. Pierce felt its empty hand strike his chestplate. Warmth spread over him, emanating from the point of contact.

Magic! Shira said.

The heat grew with each passing second, and Pierce could smell the rootlike tendrils below his armor starting to burn. No time for mercy or careful consideration. Pierce smashed the thorn to the ground and slashed with his dagger. The heat was overwhelming his senses. Bubbling sap, the feel of green wood beneath his dagger, and the all-consuming heat. It was a horrible blur of pain and pure force. He could feel his mithral plates beginning to melt … and then it stopped. The thorn’s head had come free in Pierce’s hand, and his armor was cooling in the storm-torn air.

There was motion all around him. Light flashed in the darkness-Daine’s sword, glowing like the moon itself. Xu’sasar spun through the motions of a deadly dance, lashing out with twin blades attached to a long haft. His friends were holding their own, but not without cost. The thorns were hardy and did not fall easily. Shira told him of the wounds of his allies, of the thorn-blade that had pierced Daine’s thigh and the arrow in Xu’sasar’s shoulder. And while a thrust of Daine’s sword brought down the last thorn of the first wave, there were others in the darkness, racing toward the sounds of battle.

“We’re almost there!” Lei cried. “Follow me!”

Pierce followed right on her heels. Movement brought new signals of pain as Pierce’s body warned him of the damage he had suffered, but he fought past the agony and kept moving.

The power is growing. Even without Shira’s thoughts, Pierce would have known. He could feel it in the air, a presence pressing in on him. It seemed that the trees were fighting him, roots reaching for his feet as branches flew against his face and arms. Lei forced her way through the treacherous undergrowth. They burst out from the trees and into a clearing, into …

The Gates. Nine archways, towering portals even larger than the doors in Karul’tash … doors built for giants. Each arch was made from a different material. One was rough stone, with traces of luminescent moss; it could have been carved from one of the tors they’d seen in the realm of the Huntsman. Another was formed from dark ice. Eight spread in a circle around the clearing, while the ninth stood in the center-a mighty arch of twisted black briars, each barb the length of Pierce’s forearm.

But all were empty. They were open archways. There were no doors to open, and they didn’t appear to go anywhere. Looking through an arch, all Pierce could see was the other side of the meadow.

Look at the sky, Shira thought. Look to the moon.

Pierce looked at the gates again, and then he saw what she meant. When he looked through the different arches, the clearing was the same, but the sky was slightly different. Darker in some, lighter in others. And the moon varied-color, size, and position shifting in each arch.

These are the Gates of Night, Shira thought, the passage to the hours of darkness.

“What do we do?” Pierce said.

“I’m working on it!” Lei said. The staff was singing again, its voice faint, unsteady.

“Work fast,” Daine said, emerging from the treeline with Xu’sasar at his heels. Blood and sap covered his armor.

“Thanks for the advice.” Lei walked forward, approaching the central arch-

And the trees attacked.

No time to react. Roots rose from the ground, gripping Pierce’s legs and pinning him in place. His dagger was out, but before he could cut the tendrils he felt a crushing force around his chest-a tree branch, acting with the fluid motion of a snake and the strength of thick oak. Pierce struggled, but to no avail. The tree was far stronger than he was.

The trees clustered around the clearing, holding just beyond the ring of eight gates. Their limbs flexed and twisted in the darkness, a sea of motion in the shadows. Daine was helpless in the grip of an old pine, while Xu’sasar was nowhere to be seen.

Lei stood in the center of the ring, watching but taking no action. Before Pierce could speak, a passage opened in the wall of writhing wood, and a tall man stepped into the clearing. Both his height and his bearing were reminiscent of the Huntsman they had faced earlier, but where the hunter had been lean, the Woodsman was broad and muscular. He was dressed in loose trousers and a hooded vest woven from dark leaves, and thick vines twined around his powerful arms.

The Woodsman strode slowly into the ring, moving with the confidence of a predator in his lair. A huge axe balanced across one shoulder; he gripped the haft with his left hand, and the polished blade gleamed in the moonlight. Pierce saw that the Woodsman wore a mask beneath his hood, depicting the face of a bearded, smiling man with long mustaches. As Pierce watched, the wooden smile widened.

“So, beloved,” the Woodsman said. “You have returned to me at last.”