The Shattered Land

CHAPTER 30

Whether it was the result of mystical protection or simple good fortune, the day passed without further incident. Once Daine thought he saw a vast dark shape moving beneath the water, but predator or spirit, it did not rise to threaten the Gray Cat. The storms that lingered over the Thunder Sea held their distance, forming a dark wall to the north.

Though the waters were calm, the moods of the passengers were anything but. Lei had been avoiding Daine ever since the attack, devoting her attention to Pierce and pointedly looking away and falling silent the few times he approached. He could have forced the issue, but the Gray Cat was too small for privacy, and Daine didn’t want to continue the conversation around Gerrion or Lakashtai. In the end, he didn’t know what to say.

It had been many years since Daine had been a member of House Deneith, and it simply wasn’t a part of his identity. He had chosen to leave. In part this was a protest against the actions of the house itself. Cannith, Orien, Deneith: if the houses had joined together in support of the rightful queen of Galifar, the civil war might have ended before it had ever begun, but the war was an opportunity for the houses. The conflict brought many opportunities for profit: Deneith mercenaries, Jorasco healers, Cannith smiths-every house had an angle to work in the war. Greed and lust for power came before any sense of decency or compassion or loyalty to any land.

The policies of the house were only one factor in his decision. Long before his dreams had come under siege, he’d been haunted by nightmares of the things he’d done in the service of the house. Spilling blood for gold was bad enough, but when he thought back to his younger years in Metrol, to Alina’s hall of mirrors-the memories still burned. It had been Jode who’d pulled him up from that moral abyss, and now all that remained of Jode was a glass vial in his pocket.

When he left the house, Daine had scored the Deneith emblem off the pommel of his sword. It had since been repaired, and he’d chosen to leave it intact-out of respect to his grandfather if not to the house itself, but he no longer considered himself to be a member of House Deneith, and it had never occurred to him that it might have meaning to Lei. She was right; regardless of his feelings, the blood of the house ran through his veins. Daine might not have the dragonmark of the house, but the potential was still there in his blood. Daine had never concerned himself with history, but every child of the houses knew the stories: mixing the blood of two dragonmarked houses could result in aberrant marks, children with strange powers who could grow up twisted by madness or disease. Daine had been a cynical child and had never put much stock in the stories, but a year ago, they’d encountered three people with aberrant dragonmarks, and it had been a troubling experience. Daine thought about the man covered with sores and boils, the little halfling giggling and talking to her rats. If Lei and he were joined-was that the gift they would give a child?

Did he even want a child?

“You have troubles enough to deal with. Do not invite more.”

Lakashtai’s soft voice startled him out of his reverie. Gerrion was sleeping, but apparently the kalashtar knew something about sailing. She stood behind the wheel, her cloak billowing in the wind. The burns along her pale skin had vanished; Daine wondered if she had come to terms with Lei at some point, or if healing was just another of her powers that he didn’t know about. Lei herself was nowhere to be seen and was most likely asleep in the cabin. Pierce was standing at the bow, but glanced back when he heard the conversation.

“I don’t need you prying in my mind while I’m awake,” Daine said with a glare.

“Neither of us has any choice in the matter,” she replied. “It is the price of your protection. I have touched your dreams, and it is difficult for me to ignore your most powerful emotions. You might try being grateful for a change. I do not enjoy the feeling of your thoughts and emotions intruding on my own, but my only alternative is to kill you.”

“If there is a battle, it will not be Daine who falls.” Pierce was cleaning the chain of his flail. His voice was as calm as Lakashtai; it was hard to believe that they were discussing murder.

“In my current condition, you are more than a match for me, Pierce. The pain from the shattered crystal still burns within me, weakening my bond to Kashtai, but I speak without malice. Without my help, your friend will die, and all your strength and skill cannot save him. His death would be a thing of agony and madness, serving the cause of a greater darkness. It would be a mercy if I killed him.”

“You’re just full of compassion, aren’t you?” Daine said.

Lakashtai glanced at him. Her eyes weren’t glowing, but even at this distance the vivid green was remarkable. “If I did not care about your fate, I would not be here now, and the only part of you that matters would have died a year ago.”

Though her voice was calm and level, Daine thought that he could hear traces of pain behind it, and he felt a touch of shame. Lakashtai’s imperious manner made it easy to forget that she might have feelings beneath her serene mask, and even her beauty was as disturbing as it was alluring, but she was right-and she deserved better from him.

“I didn’t mean to stab at you. It’s just that I’m used to fighting my own battles, and somehow, this talk of killing me just doesn’t fill me with goodwill.”

“I understand, but it is not the way of my people to shy away from a difficult truth.”

“Then why do you do this?” Pierce said. “If killing Daine would have been a merciful act, why did you agree to help? How was it that you were even in a position to assist him in the previous incident?” His expression was fixed in metal, and his voice was steady, but the signs of suspicion were there-his grip on the haft of his flail, the tension in his knees.

“Coincidence, if you believe in such things.” Lakashtai turned to Daine. “I am sensitive to the winds of fate, and when I first saw you in the King of Fire, I knew that our destinies would come together, though I did not know how. When you sought me out, plagued by the mind wraith, I did what I would do for anyone; that technique is an abomination, one used far too often by il-Lashtavar. Once again, I felt the premonition-the sense that there was a bond between us, so I left the crystal beacon in the hope that I would feel you when there was a need. I did.”

“Arriving just in time to kill me,” Daine said.

“If that is how you wish-”

“No. No, I’m sorry,” Daine said, with a dismissive wave. “You’re right. I might already be dead if it weren’t for you. Let’s just forget about it.”

Pierce turned his attention back to his flail, but Daine could see that the warforged was still watching Lakashtai as he oiled the chain and spiked head.

Gerrion eventually returned to the helm, and they turned toward the land, following the coastline and eventually heading up a wide river toward the interior. The oars came out, and all energy was devoted to driving the boat up the channel. At first, Daine thought the reputation of the region was overrated. The shores were covered with thick vegetation, but it seemed no worse than the rainforests of Breland; there were no beasts bursting out of the underbrush, no ancient ruins with walls of gold.

Then they reached the ice.

It began as a chill in the air. Tendrils of mist and steam drifted across the water. A light dusting of frost could be seen on the trees, and this quickly gave way to deep snow. Looking down the river, Daine saw a wall of fog and falling snow, shrouding water and shore alike in white shadows.

“I don’t understand,” Daine called to Gerrion, his breath steaming in the frigid air. “How can the weather be so severe? An hour ago we were in a jungle-would this weather kill the plants?”

“Xen’drik doesn’t play by your rules, my friend,” Gerrion said. “We’re lucky the river hasn’t turned to lava.”

“Are you serious?”

“Certainly. It’s rare, but I’ve heard of stranger things happening. For the most part, it’s stable, but when you pass into one of the soft zones-well, you never know what you might find.”

“Xen’drik’s ancient kings possessed terrible powers,” Lakashtai said. “They fought a war with dream and nightmare; that conflict left its scars on reality. Tomorrow, this region could be green and tropical again, or perhaps the soil will turn to stone and the trees to glass.”

“And the people?” Daine said.

“Best not to find out.”

Snow began to cover the deck, and Daine found he was striking chunks of ice with his oars.

“I don’t much care for the looks of this,” Gerrion remarked. “Ten crowns says the river’s frozen solid up ahead, and I don’t feel like being caught in that.”

“I could try to create some sort of heat shield,” Lei said, laying off her oars for a moment. “I couldn’t cover the entire boat, but perhaps I could fix a small ball of fire just in front of the ship. I don’t know how long I could keep it up, but it would make an interesting experiment.”

“No … There’s no telling how far this goes or how long it will last.” He turned to Lakashtai. “My lady, if you don’t mind a slight risk, there is another way for us to reach your destination.”

“Speak.”

“I know the region you described from your map. There is-a magical path, more or less, that could get us closer to this monolith. There’s a small cove nearby, where I could set anchor. While I do hate to leave the Cat, it’s a harbor I’ve used before, and it’s as safe a landing as one can find in this place. It won’t be pleasant, given the weather-but this path should allow us to leap inwards. Even if the river isn’t frozen, this would save us a few days travel.”

Lakashtai glanced at Daine. “Well, captain? Any tactical advice?”

The deck was covered with snow, and Daine’s face was numb. An icy wind was beginning to rise. “This doesn’t look good, and I don’t much want to drag this boat across a frozen field. I say listen to the guide.”

Gerrion gave a quick bow. “Always the best advice. Lay on your oars, then-hopefully we can reach the cove before the river is completely frozen.”

The temperature fell with the approach of night, and twice they came to a halt, until Lei carved a path with magical flame. Frost formed on Pierce’s outer shell, and the creatures of flesh and blood drew their cloaks tight against the cold, but even as the sun slipped away, Gerrion pulled the vessel off of the river. Strangely, the waters of the inlet were less choked with ice; it was as if some hidden force was warming the water, and Lei’s mystical flames were not needed. The shore was hidden behind shadow and snow, but Gerrion proved his worth as a guide, steering through the darkness. At last the ship struck soil, and Gerrion and Pierce heaved the anchor off the side.

“If you have any warmer clothing, now’s the time to find it,” Gerrion said. “The path’s only a few hours walk from here, and I’d sooner press on than camp in this mess. Olladra willing, we’ll be back in the warmth by midnight.”

“We are not alone.” Pierce’s quiet voice drifted from the cold. Daine could barely see Pierce through the snow, but the warforged had his bow in hand, an arrow to the string. There was a blur of motion in the night, a splash as Pierce leapt down from the deck. “There is another boat at rest here, struck aground harder than ours.”

Daine squinted into the darkness. He could barely see the outline of the vessel. He sighed: if anyone was out there, they’d surely have noticed the arrival of the new boat. “Lei, light-disposable.”

Pale light pushed back the night, emanating from a copper coin in Lei’s palm. She pressed the glowing disk into Daine’s hand, and he flung the coin off the deck, creating a pool of light in the darkness. Daine searched for any signs of movement, any reaction in the night, but he saw nothing.

Pierce was right: another boat was at rest some 20 feet away. Slightly larger than the Grey Cat, it was a two-masted vessel with a squat, rounded hull covered with black tar. At least it’s not Riedrans, Daine thought-at least the ship was simpler and far uglier than the elegant vessel Lakashtai had identified as Riedran when they’d first arrived in Stormreach.

There were no signs of movement beyond the lapping water and no lights on the ship.

Drawing his sword, Daine leapt off the prow of the Gray Cat. Icy water splashed around his boots, and Daine ground his teeth against the cold as he made his way to the shore.

Pierce materialized next to him, a mithral ghost in the snowy night. He raised a hand, gesturing toward the boat. Follow, silently, his gestures said.

Daine shadowed Pierce, moving as quietly as he could. The warforged kept his bow ready, but a moment later he paused, nodding his head toward the icy ground.

A human body lay on the ground. It was half-buried in snow, and fresh blood was spread across the white blanket.