The Dreaming Dark [02] - The Shattered Land, page 28
part #2 of Eberron: The Dreaming Dark Series
![The Dreaming Dark [02] - The Shattered Land](https://picture.bookfrom.net/img/keith-baker/the_dreaming_dark_02_-_the_shattered_land.jpg "The Dreaming Dark [02] - The Shattered Land")
Gerrion stepped forward.
“You were sent to the place of storms, to watch for the child of war, led by the voice of the past. Have you fulfilled your duty?”
“Yes, speaker.”
A murmur ran through the soldiers. Holuar struck his staff on the ground.
“Silence!” He pointed the staff at Gerrion. “You have failed us before, child. Do you have assurances?”
“I do, lord speaker.” Gerrion turned to face Daine. “This one was born into a house of warriors, but he split from his house and lost his nation. The child of war, broken from his family, a man without a home. He is led by a voice from the past—a voice that speaks directly in his mind. He is accompanied by a woman of two worlds, who holds the key to that voice. She has been holding it at bay, and surely she can unleash it.”
The murmuring rose again, and Holuar silenced it once more. “Continue.”
“He brought down the priest of dragons, a mighty wielder of flame, and the water rose up to greet him.” He paused here, as if trying to find the words. “A woman of water, speaking in the common tongue!”
Holuar glanced over toward Daine. “You have something to say, Zulaje?”
“Nothing I have not said before, Lord Holuar. I fear that this gray worm wastes our time, as he has done so often before. I fear that this legend holds us from our true destiny. How many generations have we stood at the threshold of the Burning Gate, when we could be spreading our fire across the jungles?”
“Beware, Zulaje,” Holuar hissed. “Do you speak of abandoning our vows? Perhaps you wish to join the savages of the Broken Oath, since you have no respect for our way.”
Zulaje walked forward. “I have more respect than you know, old one. I respect the power we have gained from our devotion.” She spun her double sword, creating a dazzling wheel of fire. “I respect the fury of the flame—it is you who seeks to cage that fury, and even some among your own order grow weary of it. Let us return to the ways of fire and sword. Let those we fought so long ago fear us once again.”
“ENOUGH!” Holuar roared. He slammed his staff into the ground, and the cold fire flared up. “Six thousand cycles we have waited. Six thousand! And I tell you, Zulaje, the season has finally come. I have heard it in the crackling voice of the flame, as I have lain in trance. The time has come, war leader. The opener of the way walks this land. Even I have doubted in the past, but not today. This is the season that the Burning Gate will open.”
Zulaje stilled her blade and inclined her head. “Then let us test our child of war, Lord Holuar.”
He nodded. “Let the two be joined, and lead them to the labyrinth.”
Zulaje spun, and the tip of her flaming sword stopped an inch from Daine’s face. “Stand,” she said in the Common tongue. “Unnecessary movement brings pain.”
As he stood, the guards escorted Lakashtai over to him. Her hands were not bound, and she reached out and let two fingers trail across the back of his hand—a slight gesture, but he could feel the warmth in it; for her, he knew, it was the equivalent of an embrace. He took the hand and squeezed it, and she smiled slightly. The guards surrounding them lowered their spears, and marched them out of the room.
“Are you well?” Lakashtai said quietly. “You seem to have lost your eyebrows.”
Daine tried to look up, but he couldn’t see. “I had an accident with fire, but I’m all right. Should we be talking out loud?”
“We have no choice, I’m afraid. This collar—should I use my mental abilities, it will unleash a burst of flame that will burn through my neck, or so the man who put it on me said, and I know that he believed it.”
“I didn’t get one of those. I feel so unimportant.”
“More likely, they need you alive,” Lakashtai said. “They may have concluded that you’d do something rash and kill yourself quickly, if you were equipped with such a device.”
“That does sound like me,” Daine admitted, considering his aborted escape attempt. “What do we do now?”
“We wait, and we see what this test is. Perhaps you are this chosen one they seek. I have heard far stranger tales.”
“Really? I’ve got two crowns in my purse that say otherwise.”
She smiled again. “Then I hope we’ll have time to put my claim to the test, but now, it seems we have arrived at our destination.”
The hall was a vast obsidian corridor, with no decorations or furnishings; it stretched forward into darkness, stretching on for hundreds of feet. A series of catwalks crisscrossed overhead, and Daine could see drow soldiers watching from above, crossbows at the ready. The ceiling stretched a short distance above the catwalks. Huge chunks of it were missing, revealing a view of a cloudy sky.
“Maybe it’ll rain,” Daine said to Lakashtai.
There was a line carved into the floor, and the guards prodded and pushed until Daine and Lakashtai crossed over it.
“Child of war!” Holuar called. “It is your destiny to open the Burning Gate, to unlock the path to the world beyond, but the way is blocked by hidden peril.” He produced a small bronze orb from the sleeve of his robe and flung it forward. The sphere fell to the floor, rolled fifteen feet, and suddenly dissolved into a pool of molten, bubbling metal. “The deadly walls cannot be seen and shift with every passing moment. Only the voice that speaks within you can guide you safely through, so listen, and walk, and find the way to victory.”
Daine turned around. “Invisible walls of death?”
Holuar spoke in the unknown tongue, and a wall of fire sprang up along the line carved in the ground, separating Daine and Lakashtai from the drow. The flames rose up to meet the catwalks and completely split the hallway. As Daine watched, it began to expand, creeping toward them inch by inch.
“Ah.” Daine said. He glanced at Lakashtai. “Any ideas?”
What is this place?” Pierce said.
The warforged had descended deep below the surface before coming to a large obsidian chamber with rough floors and a smooth, curved ceiling. The walls were filled with the reflections of ghostly flames—and it was these false fires that spread light across the room.
A vault, Harmattan replied. Though Pierce and Indigo had taken the lead, Harmattan and three of Hydra’s bodies were close behind. This land has seen many wars and rebellions. This is a storage facility, holding supplies … though we have come here to rescue a prisoner.
“A prisoner?” Pierce considered the level of brush they’d cut away to reveal the entrance, the thick layer of bone and ash. “How long has he been trapped down here?”
Over thirty thousand years. Our quarry is no creature of flesh and blood. I told you, little brother. Our roots are far older than House Cannith.
Harmattan gestured to Indigo. There was only one tunnel leading away from the entry hall, and she began to creep down it, Pierce at close behind. After a few steps Indigo paused, holding up a hand.
“Look at the ceiling,” she said. There was a fine smattering of fracture lines across the glass. “There is power in the hall—a sentry spirit, as there was above. I believe this hallway is set to collapse.”
Better the treasures be lost to all than stolen, it seems. Little brother, let Indigo show you to the perimeter of the sentry’s watch. Contact it. Tell it to … maintain, and lest you think of giving other instructions—failure in this matter will prove most painful for your dear lady.
Indigo traced a line across the floor with a finger, and Pierce stepped up to it. He looked out into the hall, studying the illusory flames on the walls. As before, the flames grew brighter. There was something, a presence, like a wisp of smoke at the back of his mind. Maintain, he thought, conjuring images of stability. A wall. A block of ice.
“I believe that it is safe,” he said at last.
Hydra, take point once. Indigo to follow.
As one, the three Hydras took a single step forward and turned to face each other. A second passed. “Very well,” they said together, and the one to the left walked toward Pierce. He limped slightly; of the three, he had suffered the most damage when the displacer beasts attacked.
As Hydra crossed the sentry line, Pierce felt the faintest tension, as if a thought was trying to worm its way out of his mind. Maintain, he thought, pushing back against the pressure. Indigo followed the first Hydra, but the ceiling held above her.
Well done. Follow Indigo. I’ll be right behind you.
The passage curved to the east, slowly dropping further below the earth. Finally it came to an end, opening into a large, dark room. There were no flames bound into the walls of this chamber, but Indigo was prepared. She tapped her left shoulder, and a ball of cold fire rose up into the air. This drifted just behind her head, casting a cone of light out in front of her.
They were in a vast, empty hall. The walls and floor were made of a tough ceramic material that absorbed light and sound. It was impossible to judge the length of the chamber; it seemed to be a void stretching off into infinity. There were no objects in the hall, nothing that could be used to judge size or distance … until Pierce saw the guardian.
The sentinel was an enormous man, twenty feet tall. He had a heavyset bulk reminiscent of a dwarf; he was massively muscled, and his shoulders were more than seven feet across. His skin and robe were jet black, as was his spiky hair and bristling beard, and his mouth was set in a permanent sneer, but even as Pierce raised his flail, he realized that the fierce expression was still as stone, and the giant’s eyes were fixed straight ahead. This sentry was an obsidian statue.
Statue or not, it was superlative work. It appeared to have been carved from a single block of glass … or given what he’d seen at the stairs, perhaps it had been shaped instead of carved. It held an immense greatsword above its head, almost seventeen feet in length. Staring into its blank eyes, Pierce thought of the spirits trapped in this vault, and he wondered—could this thing be alive? He reached out with his thoughts, trying to sense the emanations he’d caught before, but he felt nothing.
Just as well, he thought.
Indigo? Harmattan had entered the chamber.
“The chamber appears safe. However, the compartments are warded. Breaking these wards—it will not be a simple task, but it is possible.”
Even as she spoke, Pierce saw the compartments she was speaking of. The walls of the hall were covered with them: square, flat panels recessed into the surface of the walls, each marked with characters in an alphabet he didn’t know. After a moment, he realized that these were the same language as the markings he and Lei had found on the pillars back by the stone map.
“We cannot open these doors with the key?”
No, Harmattan hissed. The key … it is not so much a key as a lock-pick. It was not created by those who made this vault but rather by their enemies. Unfortunately for us, those who built the vault thought to add a second system of defense. He began walking along the edge of the northern wall, studying the panels. Indigo stayed with him; Pierce started to explore the other wall, but once he drifted too far from Indigo the darkness became too deep.
This is the one, Harmattan said. He stood aside, and Indigo produced a series of small tools; Pierce had seen Lei use similar items when breaking down protective wards.
“Our prisoner is in there?” Pierce said, still puzzled.
Yes, Harmattan replied. With his help, we shall unlock the gates of Karul’tash, and then—we shall see what fate has in store for us.
Karul’tash—the name was familiar, but Pierce couldn’t place it. He watched Indigo. She worked in silence, her attention completely focused on the task. A moment later, the sigil in the center of the panel began to glow, and this light spread out in a vertical line. Once the door was bisected, the panel swung inwards with a faint hiss. The chamber within was rectangular, padded with dark fabric. It held one object: a metal sphere two inches in diameter. It was forged from silver or mithral and polished to a mirror finish, its surface studded with red and gold dragonshards.
Yes, Harmattan said. We have found it. He reached forward and drew the sphere out of the vault; it was almost lost in his massive hand.
“This is a prisoner?” Pierce said.
It is a vessel—a housing for sentience, not unlike our own. It—He paused abruptly and raised the sphere closer to his glowing eyes. Something is wrong. I can barely sense the energies within.
Indigo glanced at the sphere. “Perhaps we chose the wrong vault. It would be dangerous, but I could try to open another.”
No. This is the key, and we would not have been sent all this way or found our brother Pierce, if this was not the path of destiny. There must be an answer.
Harmattan looked at Pierce and extended his hand. Perhaps—
And the sword came down.
The glass giant in the center of the room had sprung to life. It had no joints, but it moved anyway, as if obsidian were as flexible as flesh. The massive great sword slammed through Harmattan’s right arm and completely severed it. Whatever force was binding the arm together dissolved, and it disintegrated into a mass of metal shards, falling to the floor. The sphere was thrown from his hand and rolled into the darkness.
Harmattan hissed in rage. Even as the glass giant raised its sword for another blow, Harmattan flew forward, exploding into a whirlwind of steel. The shattered remnants of his arm were swept up off of the floor to join the storm of razors. The maelstrom struck the statue with the sound of a hundred knives on glass, and slivers of stone scattered through the air.
“INDIGO, STAND READY!” Harmattan’s voice thundered through the chamber, louder than Pierce would have thought possible. “PIERCE, HYDRA, FIND THAT ORB!!!”
Pierce had seen the sphere fall, and he traced the path through the darkness. Behind him, he could hear the blade of the glass warrior smashing into the floor. Harmattan might be indestructible, but he was at his deadliest when fighting creatures of flesh; he was slowly chipping away the surface of the statue, but it would take time to bring it down.
“NOW!”
Turning, Pierce saw that Harmattan had drawn back from the giant and was reforming his humanoid shape. Indigo spun forward, her adamantine blades glittering in the darkness. Pierce had seen Daine cut through stone and steel with his adamantine dagger, and Indigo’s swords were just as strong. She moved with inhuman speed and precision, dodging a blow that would have split her in two and rolling between the statue’s legs. Coming up behind it, she slashed at its ankles, and her blades carved deep gouges in the stone.
The animated statue was faster than Pierce would have thought possible. Even as Indigo regained her balance from the blow, the giant caught her with a swift kick. The blow swept her off her feet and threw her back into the darkness.
For a moment, Pierce was torn. It was Harmattan who had threatened Lei. Pierce no longer knew what he believed about his destiny, his family, or his people, but he couldn’t stand by and watch Indigo die. He charged, drawing his flail and setting the chain in motion. Daine would have called out, issuing a triumphant battlecry. For Pierce, purpose was enough. The sentry had turned away from him to finish Indigo, and Pierce swung the flail as hard as he could, striking the damaged ankle with a resounding crash. Glass shards flew through the air. Despite his strength, Pierce’s weapon was mere steel, and it didn’t have the bite of Indigo’s strange blades, but he had drawn its attention. It turned toward him, the obsidian blade spinning down …
And Harmattan dove between them.
His razor cloak was spread wide, and it absorbed the full force of the blow without breaking. It was a wall of steel, and it came between Pierce and death.
Careful, little brother, Harmattan said. Your role in this game is far from over.
Pierce simply stepped to the side. Indigo had returned, and her blades were almost invisible as she slashed at the giant again and again.
“Brother!” she called. “Strike from the opposite side!”
He did, timing his blow to match hers. His flail could not match her blades, but his strength made the difference, and the obsidian leg shattered beneath the combined assault. For a moment the giant turned, trying to maintain its balance and spot the tiny creatures below, then it toppled. The terrible injury must have broken the animating magic, for it stiffened as it fell, and when it struck the ground it shattered into hundreds of pieces.
“Satisfactory,” Indigo said, looking at Pierce. “You are a dangerous opponent, brother, but do you truly think you can match me?”
“Perhaps we shall put my projections to the test,” Pierce said. He felt a strange … pleasure as he spoke the words. He had fought in more battles than he could remember. He had even served with warforged before, but with Indigo—somehow, their movements complimented each other perfectly. It wasn’t battle—it was music.
Enough, said Harmattan. The sphere! Where is it?
“I have not yet found it,” Hydra said, speaking from three corners of the hall. “If you could produce more light …”
Illumination filled the chamber—a cold glow emanating from Harmattan himself. Be quick.
Pierce returned to the region he had been searching before, over by the entrance to the hall. He contemplated the broken hallway beyond, touching the spirit that held the ceiling in place.
“You fought well.” Indigo had followed him. “But it was foolish of you to join the fray with such an ineffective weapon.”
“I couldn’t let you fight alone.”
“Why is that?”
Before Pierce could speak, Hydra called out, his three voices hissing across the darkness. “No! What is she doing?”
For a moment, Pierce stared at Indigo. She was beautiful, in a way no human could ever be. A weapon, swift and deadly. Just as he was.
“Stay down,” he said, and knocked her off of her feet with a savage blow from the butt of his flail. He was already turning as she fell, racing down the tunnel as fast as he could. Maintain, he thought.
PIERCE! It took only seconds for Harmattan to respond. Pierce could hear metal tearing against glass as his brother followed him, but he didn’t stop to look until he reached the chamber on the other side, with the spiral staircase rising upwards.
