The Shattered Land

CHAPTER 50

Gerrion laughed. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“Oh, I think I do. Do you really think your life is more important than, what, tens of thousands of years of devotion?”

Gerrion glanced at Holuar. “Grandfather? Will you deny me my place in history to satisfy the whims of this outlander, or shall we simply torture them until they do as we ask?”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but we’ve been fighting a war back on Khorvaire,” Daine said. “I’ve been tortured by the best. If you think you’ve got the time to break us, by all means, but I’m told that your season of fire will be over soon, and when it’s over, so much for your gate.”

Holuar considered, finally speaking in Elvish. “You did not bring the child of war to us, Gerrion. Some would say that you failed in your duty.”

“Grandfather!”

“Speaker of the law!” Holuar snapped, and Gerrion hung his head.

“Perhaps it was the wrong man that I led to the city, but I brought all four to the land of fire. If I hadn’t drawn this man here, the child of war would not have come. I fulfilled my destiny!”

“Yes … I suppose that you did.” Holuar looked at Daine. “No,” he said, returning to the Common tongue. “His life is not yours to take. If we must tear the secrets from you, we shall.”

“Wait!” Daine said. “I don’t want his life. All I want is my honor. He betrayed us. He made me look like a fool. I just want to prove how he’d fare in a fair fight. First blood. A scratch only. If he dies you can kill me too. I won’t resist. I swear.” He drew his sword and looked down at the hilt. “On my father’s blood.”

Holuar glanced at Gerrion. “To this I agree.” He glanced at Gerrion. “Take his honor for the Sulatar, child. Show that you have the strength of the fire-that you are not just a knife in the darkness.”

“Grandfather, I-”

“I have spoken!”

Daine grinned. “Tell you what, Gerrion, we’ll keep it fair. You can use that fine flaming stick you’ve got there. Me? I’ll just use my dagger. I’m sure you remember it.”

“Do as you wish,” Gerrion said. “You will take no honor from the Sulatar. When you are ready, then.” He made a mild gesture with his light sword, the vaguest hint of a salute, but even as Daine nodded and drew his dagger, Gerrion was already launching in a lightning-swift thrust.

Daine leapt back. He didn’t parry or riposte-he simply kept the distance between them, staying beyond the tip of the blade.

“Do you have any honor to take?” he said.

Gerrion said nothing. His handsome face twisted in a snarl as he launched blow after blow. Daine continued to dance away, staying just out of reach.

Minutes passed, and Daine had yet to strike.

“What are you waiting for?” Gerrion hissed. “You asked for this fight. Aren’t you going to try to win it?”

“Perhaps I already am,” Daine said, ducking beneath a fiery slash. “Perhaps I’m not trying to win yet, but you’re doing a fine job of losing without me.”

Gerrion growled, and the tip of his blade almost grazed Daine’s cheek; the flames singed his beard. Cutting it close, he thought.

And suddenly Gerrion stopped. He held his guard position and simply watched Daine. “You’re not trying to win,” he said. “But you asked for the fight. And if you didn’t want to win, then you-”

“That’s right,” Daine said. His arm flashed forward, and the blade was a black streak through the air. The adamantine dagger sank into Gerrion’s left shoulder, and the gray man dropped his sword in shock and surprise. “I was bored,” Daine finished. He looked at Holuar. “First blood,” he said. “I’ve got what I came for. Give me back my dagger and I’ll show you to your gate.”

Gerrion had fallen to his knees. Holuar looked down at him and yanked the dagger loose in one swift motion. Gerrion whimpered and pressed a hand against the wound to staunch the flow of blood. Holuar ignored him and tossed the weapon back to Daine.

“You have your honor,” he said quietly. “Now give us our destiny.”

“Is everything ready?” Daine called out to Lei as he led the firebinders into the vast Hall of the Gate.

Pierce and Lakashtai stood by the door; at Daine’s signal, Pierce laid down his bow.

“Yes,” Lei said. “The vessel is prepared.”

She pointed, and murmurs rippled through the assembled drow. One of the crystal spheres had descended and was hovering just above the floor. A shard of the crystal had folded out and down, creating a long ramp. The inside was filled with dark mist.

Holuar studied the glowing inscriptions on the outer edge of the sphere. “Yes. This is the gate of passage, the chariot that rises to the land of promise.”

“Do you know how to operate it?” Lei said. “I can send you through … but you’ll need to use the controls in the sphere to travel back.”

The old elf hadn’t taken his eyes off the sphere. “Yes. Yes, I know what is required. We have prepared for this journey for thousands of cycles.”

“Do you know what they say about Fernia? I’ve heard it’s all fire and lava. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” “Foolish girl!” Holuar turned to glare at her, and now there was anger in his eyes. “Thousands of cycles. I know what is to come. This is our destiny!”

“Fine!” Lei said, stepping back and raising her hands.

“I am no fool,” the old priest continued, “and I will need … hostages.”

Daine shook his head. “You’re not taking any of my people into a pit of fire.”

Holuar hissed sharply. “Of course not. You do not deserve to see our promised land, nor could you survive it, but …” He gestured to two of his soldiers, speaking rapidly in Elvish. He turned back to Daine as the soldiers came forward. “You, outlander, and your mate.” He pointed at Lakashtai, and Daine tried to ignore Lei’s questioning glare. “The two of you will serve as my assurance. Kulaj and Ad’rul will stand remain behind, blades to your throats. Should we not return or send word within one day, they will spill your blood.”

“You expect us to stand here and wait for you for an entire day?”

“The alternative is death,” Holuar said, and Gerrion smiled at that.

“When you put it that way … Safe travels.”

The firebinders disarmed Daine and bound his hands. They bound Pierce and Lakashtai as well; only Lei was left free. Soon Daine found himself pressed against one of the stone tables, cold bronze against his throat, as the Sulatar troop filed into the crystal sphere.

“Farewell, Daine,” Gerrion called from the ramp. “You may have won back your precious honor, but when I return … I think I’ll put your tales of torture to the test.”

“Go choke on lava,” Daine muttered. The knife tightened against his throat, but the soldier didn’t speak the Common tongue.

“I’m activating the portal now.”

Lei was speaking in Elvish for the benefit of the guards. The panel she was standing at was a mosaic of crystal rods embedded in stone sockets. She drew out a few of the rods, replacing them in different hollows. With each adjustment, a vast pulse of mystical power radiated out from the central column. Daine could feel the air rippling and crawling against his skin. The sphere slowly rose up into the air, and as it moved it gave off a sharp, piercing hum. This grew louder as it drew toward the other floating spheres, and each sphere began to emit a tone of its own. Arcs of energy were flashing around the central column, flowing from ring to ring. Then came a terrible flash of light, a roar like thunder, and the room fell into silence and utter darkness.

Slowly the light returned, as the mystical inscriptions on the walls and the central columns began to glow anew. A moment later and the room was just as it had been before-with one exception: the crystal sphere containing the drow had vanished.

“Lei?” Daine said.

“As far as I can tell, everything was successful, though if the legends are true, Fernia hardly sounds like anyone’s promised land.”

“Now that you’ve gotten your gateway to paradise, could you let us get on about our work?” Daine said to the drow holding the knife to his throat. “Some of us still have our own problems to deal with.”

The firebinder said nothing, and the knife was as steady as ever.

“Perhaps you can find what we seek, Lei.” If Lakashtai was concerned about the elf with a sword at her throat, she gave no sign of it. “The chamber we seek must be elsewhere in this facility. If you can find a way to disable the field that blocks my … talents … I may be able to sense its presence.”

“How would I do that, exactly?” Lei said.

“How is it that you were able to restore function to the network of gates?”

“I … I don’t know,” Lei said. “I just studied the controls, and it came to me. It all seemed to make sense.”

“Continue your work. Examine each panel in turn and see what you can find. Perhaps the answers will come to you.”

Lei looked over at them, and Daine could see her fear and confusion. “Don’t worry about us,” he said, the knife brushing his throat as he spoke. “You did everything you needed to do. Just … do some research. Explain it to me. It’s been far too long since I’ve heard you lecture.”

She smiled slightly at that. “Very well.” She looked up at the central column for a moment. “Each of the crystal spheres represents one of the thirteen planes of existence that are said to exist in concert with our universe …”

To Daine, it seemed as if hours passed while Lei explored the chamber and discussed mystical minutiae. He had hoped that the lecture might lull the drow to sleep, until he remembered that elves didn’t sleep-and however dull the conversation, the soldier watching him seemed as keen and alert as ever.

As Daine himself was struggling to keep his eyes open, the glowing inscriptions on the central column burst into brilliant light. The throbbing hum began, faster, louder, pounding into Daine’s head.

“They’re coming back!” Lei cried.

There was none of the slow build-up that had characterized the departure. A second later, the chamber was flooded with light. Daine could feel the energy flowing through him, pressing against his heart and lungs.

In an instant it was over. The thirteenth sphere had returned. Its surface was glowing a dull orange, and Daine could feel the heat from a hundred feet away. It slowly descended toward the floor, cooling as it dropped. A moment later the sphere opened, and the crystal ramp extended toward the floor. The interior of the sphere was still cloaked in shadows.

“RELEASE THE PRISONERS!” It was Holuar’s voice, yet it was different, stronger and far louder, with an underlying ripple like the crackling of flame. “APPROACH AND BEHOLD OUR GLORY!”

The soldier released Daine, and he raised a hand to massage his throat. The two drow sprinted toward the sphere.

“KNEEL!” Holuar roared from the darkness. “KNEEL AND GIVE HOMAGE, FOR THE MOMENT OF OUR DESTINY HAS COME!”

The firebinders knelt, one to each side of the ramp. Daine’s breath caught in his throat as the shapes emerged from the darkness.

Small shapes. Moving swiftly. Three-pronged wheels of dark wood.

Two boomerangs snapped out of the sphere, each one catching a firebinder warrior in the neck. Even as the soldiers struggled to rise, Shen’kar and Xu’sasar dove out of the darkness. Numbed by poison, the firebinders had barely raised their weapons before the oathbreakers were upon them. Xu’sasar’s twin blades flashed and Shen’kar’s spiked club rose and fell, and the battle was over in seconds.

Within moments, Shen’kar was at Daine’s side, untying his hands.

“What happened?” Daine said.

“Just as you planned,” the dark elf replied. He had released the magical glamour that he’d used to mimic the voice of the high priest. “The shadows we wove hid us from the foe, and the walls of this vessel shielded us from the flame. We followed the instructions of the lady-” he inclined his head toward Lei-“to return with this craft as soon as the firebinders departed. We left them standing upon an island of black stone in a lake of fire. Perhaps they will find the power that they seek, but they shall never return with it.”

“And Gerrion?” Daine said.

“You struck well. The priest healed the wound but did not look beyond the flesh to see the poison that coursed through the veins of your victim. As I promised you, the venom is as slow and patient as Xan’tora herself. By now, your enemy lies dead on the burning shore.”

Daine sighed. He’d never expected the firebinders to sacrifice Gerrion, but he had no intention of allowing the gray man to escape after what he’d put Lei through. My precious honor, he thought, remembering a time when that might have mattered.

“Now we look to your bargain,” Xu’sasar sang. “Holuar is left in this sea of endless flame, but the monolith is now open, and others could follow. Let this place be destroyed?”

“Lei?” Daine said. He pulled his weapons out from under the dead giant, and went to help Lakashtai.

“I don’t know. The power contained in these spheres-even if I can find a way to destroy them, the energy released could devastate the area for miles around-or worse.”

“You will find a way,” Shen’kar said.

The dark elf was still holding his poisoned rod, and his scorpion was perched on his left wrist. His words were fluid and beautiful, but it was clear to Daine that this was a statement, not a request.

“There may be weapons elsewhere in the monolith that could be of use,” Lakashtai said. “Have you learned how to dispel the wards that are blocking the use of mental powers?”

“In fact, I think I have,” Lei said. She’d wandered over to another panel halfway around the vast chamber. “These inscriptions on the walls defend against all sorts of supernatural effects. I think that these crystals empower these enchantments, so if I remove this one …”

A long line of glowing words faded into darkness. The temperature began to drop, and Daine’s breath steamed in the suddenly frigid air.

“I can destroy the heating enchantments. Hmm. It seems the gate system has a rather … chilling effect. Let me try something else.”

A second line of light faded off of the walls.

“Yes!” Lakashtai said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly letting the air flow out of her lungs. “I can feel again.” She stretched out a hand, rotating slowly in place.

“There,” she said. The central chamber was like a great wheel. The passage to the surface was but one of the spokes, and there were five more tunnels spreading out from the chamber of gates. Lakashtai paused, pointing to the northeast. “This is the way we must go.”

Daine considered. “The wards should keep any more firebinders from following, but I don’t like the thought of leaving this place unguarded. Pierce …”

“I should accompany the explorers, captain. It is possible that the information I now possess will be needed.”

“Go,” Shen’kar said. “Xu’sasar and I will remain and watch from the shadows. We have fought our battle. Now you must fight yours.”

Daine nodded. “All right, Lakashtai,” he said. “Lead the way.”

“So what kills a hundred giants?”

The hallway was cold and dim. The only source of light was the glowing inscriptions on the walls, and Lei’s efforts in the chamber of gates had caused many of these to fade into darkness.

Lakashtai was in the lead, lighting the way with a cone of light from her eyes-an effect Daine still found unnerving. They’d encountered the corpses of half a dozen giants as they progressed down the hall; one wizard was sprawled on top of a long scroll, a sheet of parchment that must have been eight feet in length. They had been able to avoid most of the corpses, but two guards had fallen side by side, and the explorers had to climb up and over the dried remains.

“I don’t see any signs of violence,” Daine continued, “They’re just … dead.” He had sword and dagger out and ready; the massive corpses raised his hackles, and it was all too easy to imagine that the withered faces were watching them pass.

“The battle they fought came to an end centuries before the final fall of Xen’drik,” Pierce said. “These magi were battling dreams and tampering with the boundaries of the planes themselves. It is dangerous to tamper with reality: I believe that they paid the price, and that those giants who survived the war wisely chose to leave this place as a tomb.”

Lakashtai glanced back at Pierce for a moment. “You seem to know a great deal about the conflict, Pierce. Do you know what was built here?”

“No. My … memories do not extend to the end of the war. I only know of its purpose: a forge to build a weapon to end the war stretching across the dimensions.”

“Let us hope that it did,” Lakashtai said, “and perhaps we’re about to find out.”

The hallway came to an end at a wide archway. A guard lay across the passage; he was wearing a coat of crimson chainmail, and each link was the size of Daine’s hand. An obsidian greatsword lay on the ground next to him, over ten feet in length. Lakashtai leapt over the corpse without even touching it; her strength had returned, and she seemed more alive than she had since they’d left Sharn. Daine wasn’t feeling so spry; he simply ground his teeth and climbed up over the giant’s chest.

The room beyond the arch was smaller than the chamber of gates, but it was no less spectacular. The walls were studded with translucent spheres, ranging from the size of a man’s head to a vast orb that was at least eight feet across. For a moment, Daine thought they were made out of glass, but as he drew closer he realized that they were far too fragile. They were soap-bubbles formed from traces of light, glowing with the faint essence of a dying coal. He almost reached out to touch one, but reason and the memory of eerily untouched corpses triumphed over curiosity.

“What are they?” Lei whispered.

“Dreams,” Pierce and Lakashtai answered together. They glanced at each other, and Pierce inclined his head.

“The purest essence of dreams,” Lakashtai continued. “Every living creature that sleeps has a bond to Dal Quor, and obviously this is a vulnerability to those who would fight the lords of the night. I wonder …” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Could they have been trying to create dreams? To forge an alternate realm, a refuge they could retreat to in the dark hours?”

“Can you hear them?” Lei said. Her voice was sluggish, almost slurred, and Daine turned toward her. Lei’s eyes were distant and confused. “So many voices …”

“Lakashtai?” Daine said, but the kalashtar was already by Lei’s side.

“Hear only my voice,” she whispered. “Set all else aside. Nothing here is real, all is illusion. Hear only my voice and let it return you to the light.”

Lei closed her eyes, her forehead twisting with the effort of thought. Daine and Pierce rushed forward, but Lakashtai held them back with a commanding gesture. The kalashtar leaned in, whispering in Lei’s ear. Her eyes flashed with light, and Lei convulsed for a moment; then she opened her eyes again, breathing deeply. Lakashtai squeezed Lei’s shoulder and stepped back toward Daine.

“She will recover,” Lakashtai said, “but her affinity for this place and the magic of this era is most unusual. Give her a moment of peace.”

Daine glanced over at Lei. “I’m … fine,” she said. She was pale, but she seemed to have regained her composure.

He returned to the study of the room. The fragile spheres covered the walls and ceiling. The center of the chamber was dominated by a dais of opalescent glass-reflective, pale white material lit from within, slowly shifting in color as Daine watched. This altar was ten feet long and six feet high, and two giants were sprawled around it. Standing across the room, they could see that there was something on top of the dais-pieces of broken glass, perhaps a shattered sphere. Whatever it was, it was dull and lifeless, a stark contrast to the gleaming platform.

“There …” Lakashtai breathed. “That is what we have sought. Help Lei climb onto the platform-the end of this quest is at hand.”

Lei still seemed slightly dazed, but she held Daine’s hand and clambered up onto the table when Daine and Pierce hoisted her up. Lakashtai leapt up beside her.

“Touch the shards, Lei,” she said. “Feel the pattern within. Reshape what has been broken.”

“What is it?” Daine said, standing on his toes and trying to peer up over the edge.

“It is the reason I came here, though even I did not believe it possible,” Lakashtai said, walking over to stand above Daine.

“You see-”

Then she screamed.

There was a distortion in the air around her chest, as if a fist-sized chunk of flesh was being twisted out of phase with the rest of her body. The aura faded, and Lakashtai dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.

“Surely you will not fall so easily, little sister.” The voice echoed through the hall. “After all you have put me through, I expected more of a challenge.”

It was Tashana.