The City of Towers: The Dreaming Dark - Book I (34 page)

“Very well.” Daine didn’t like the thought of being indebted to anyone, and the situation was unfolding with remarkable speed. But he could feel Monan’s power growing, could hear the changeling’s voice whispering in the back of his mind, and he felt flashes of emotion that had nothing to do with his own desires. “What do I do?”

“Lie back. Let your thoughts wander. By now, your enemy will be gathering his power, preparing for his next attack. Don’t try to resist. Whatever happens, whatever threat he presents, don’t fight back. Let my friend handle everything.”

She leaned in close to him, and for a moment Daine thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she touched her forehead to his. Her eyes filled his field of view, and her scent filled his mind—strange and exotic, yet somehow intimately familiar, an old friend he had forgotten.

“Let go,” she said, and he fell into her eyes.

“So here we are again.”

He was outside the Manticore, and Monan’s voice rang through the air. The changeling was leaning against the door of the inn.

Daine said nothing.

“Your grandfather was a poor choice,” said Monan, walking toward him. “Perhaps he was a professional soldier, but you were used to fighting him, and that was my mistake. But there are so many weapons I can use against you.”

The surroundings changed, and Daine found himself in a luxurious manor—Alina Lyrris’ estate in Metrol, which Daine hadn’t seen for eight years. The floors were covered with soft bearskin, the air filled with the scent of cinnamon and rich perfumes. Daine knew what Monan was trying to do, and he expected to hear Alina’s voice next. But it was Lei who appeared nearby.

“Now, what do you suppose I would think if I knew about this?” Lei said. “I never thought you were capable of such things, Daine. But neither did you, did you? Does it still trouble you? Or has the war burned the shame from your system?”

She came closer, and Daine saw a glint of metal in her hand. A knife? Instinct brought his hand to the hilt of his sword, but memory weighted down his thoughts. Why fight it? Despite his best efforts, what difference had he made over the last eight years? Cyre was gone and he was working for Alina again. What was the point?

But even as he let go of his sword, even as Lei came closer, he felt a
presence
, something fundamentally … other.

Look away, Daine. Close your eyes
.

The thoughts came from within his own mind, yet he knew they were Lakashtai’s. Even as he glanced away, he saw a shadow falling over the false Lei, saw a look of pure terror on her face. He closed his eyes. There was a horrible, gurgling scream … and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was still Lei’s voice. It was a sound that would haunt his dreams for years to come.

When Daine opened his eyes, he was lying on a soft bed in a room of glowing crystal. He felt no trace of Monan in his mind, and Lakashtai was nowhere to be seen. A small shard of green crystal was on the bed next to him. He picked it up. It was cool to the touch, and for a moment he felt the touch of kalashtar fingers on his hand.

He slipped the crystal into his belt pouch, picked up his cloak, and left the glowing room for the dark streets below.

T
he sun had set over Sharn, but the towers were alive with light. Lei looked over the railing and was stunned by the sight. The spires of the tallest towers were the playgrounds of the wealthy. Buildings of crystal and gold glittered in the light of magical fire. She could see a long pool of water atop one tower and a grove of ancient trees atop another—private pieces of nature hidden amidst the city. Looking down the length of the tower was a lesson in architectural style. Every few hundred feet structures and materials changed, as each tower and ward reflected the traditions of a different era or culture.

There was no shortage of light on the deck of the
Pride of the Storm
. The ship’s railings were studded with crystal shards charged with cold fire. But these tiny torches were overshadowed by the enormous ring of elemental fire wrapped around the waist of the ship, the light from this belt of flame almost a match for the sun itself. There were a dozen Lyrandar servants scattered around the deck, polishing the railings and performing other forms of maintenance. But there were also a few guests, and after taking Lei’s pack the chief servant led Lei and Pierce to the small knot of guests—one of which was a massive owl—standing midship beneath the flaming arch.

“Master Calis?” the servant said. “Your guest has arrived.”

Lailin Callis was an enormous man, at least in girth. His
long beard was dyed in various shades of blue, matching the swirling patterns of his loose robes. “Lei!” he bellowed, charging forward and embracing her. The small group of people watched him go with looks of mild bemusement. “What a wonderful surprise.”

“Surprise?” Lei said, breaking free and gasping for breath. “From your note, it seemed a matter of fate.”

Lailin’s face split in a massive grin. “Yes, well, that’s because you didn’t see the note I left last night—or this afternoon.”

“What do you mean?”

“A friend told me you were in town and would be coming to visit, but I had no idea when you might arrive. I’ve been leaving notes for you every time I leave the house.”

Lei smiled. “And my companion?”

“As if you would be traveling alone, my dear!” Lailin studied Pierce with a curious eye. “Although I must admit, I rather expected you to be in the company of a handsome young man. No offense meant.”

“None taken,” Pierce rumbled.

“And here I thought you’d finally unlocked the secrets of the stars and moons, Lailin. Nonetheless, I thank you for making me feel welcome. After what we’ve been through recently, it’s wonderful to have a chance to socialize.”

“And on that note,” he said as he led Lei and Pierce to the small group. He made a brief round of introductions of various merchants, and finally turned to the owl. “Allow me to introduce my companion of the moment. Master Hu’ur’hnn makes his home in the Bazaar of Middle Dura. Without question, he is one of the cleverest birds I have ever crossed wits with.”

“Too kind, Lailin,” Hu’ur’hnn said. Standing almost nine feet tall from the tips of his talons to his tufted horns, Hu’ur’hnn was a the largest owl Lei had ever seen, covered with gray-black feathers. He regarded Lei with yellow eyes the size of small saucers. “Lei, it is? And would you be House of Cannith, my lady?” His voice was strange and inhuman—deep, fluting tones twisted to form words.

Lailin caught Lei’s eye and spoke before she could answer. “Hu’ur’hnn used to be a windchaser in the sporting events of
Dura. I’ve forgotten. Did you ever actually win a match, old owl?”

The owl rotated his head to face Lailin, a slightly disconcerting effect. “Indeed, this is well known. Difficult for the owl to race the Pegasus, but not impossible with proper plans and arrangements. My people admire such effort.”

“Your people?” Lei said. “Are there really so many owls in Sharn?”

“Less than a dozen. Mine are the people of the Bazaar, merchants and others who know the value of word and wit. It took diplomacy to overcome the Griffon and the Hippogriff. Now those same gifts are used in the service of Dura. But as to you …”

“I should probably introduce Lei to our host, Hu’ur’hnn. It’s her first time aboard the
Pride
, you know.”

“Very well.” The owl bobbed his head. “Perhaps we shall talk later, lady.”

Lailin took Lei’s arm and led her to a set of stairs. Pierce followed behind. “A fascinating fellow, Hu’ur’hnn, but he’s a hunter by nature. I didn’t think he’d latch onto your house so quickly.”

“So what do
you
know of my situation, Lailin? And who told you I was in Sharn to begin with.”

“Her name is Flamewind.”

“The
sphinx?”
Lei tried to imagine Lailin fighting a minotaur barehanded and failed completely.

“Yes, that’s her. She spends a certain amount of time at Morgrave University.”

This was what Lei had heard in the first stories of the sphinx. “Talking about Xen’drik?”

“Yes.”

Lei wondered why Flamewind maintained two homes. The temple in Malleon’s Gate was a fairly elaborate stage, if she could just be found in the Morgrave Library. But then again, many mystical powers were linked to specific locations. If Flamewind was a true oracle, perhaps she channeled some hidden power in the temple to obtain the knowledge of the future and the past.

“What did she tell you?”

“That you were in Sharn, no longer part of House Cannith, and that you would be visiting in the future. She’s never spoken to me before. I’ve seen her certainly, but we’ve never spoken. I’ve heard she eats people who ask her stupid questions, and I’ve never felt like taking that chance.”

“Food for thought.”

“Well, exactly.”

They descended a large, spiral staircase into an elaborate ballroom. Both the staircase and the room below were massive in scale, and Lei imagined that they had been designed to accommodate large guests like Hu’ur’hnn or an ogre servant. The ceilings were at least twenty feet high, and Lei wondered if the chamber was making use of two decks. Light fell from glittering chandeliers, each crystal shard enchanted with its own spell of light. Lei was impressed. All magic had its price, and clearly expense was not a concern for the heirs of Lyrandar.

“Thank you for not mentioning my disgrace to the owl,” Lei said. She saw a long table filled with food and started toward it.

“Well, if it’s what I think, I know you’re not allowed to lie about it. But if you’d like … well, a friend who simply hasn’t heard the news and mistakenly misreports things, that’s no crime. If you’d like to be a lady for the night, I’d be happy to assist.”

She smiled. “You’re kind, Lailin. But you know … I’m ready. Perhaps I’m curious to see what will happen. Just let me get some food before you start making introductions. If I’m going to be thrown off the ship, I’d rather it was on a full stomach.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Lailin said, taking a plate. “The blackspiced dragonhawk is excellent, but you simply must try the fish; You’ll never get fish as fresh as at a Lyrandar feast. I think the deepscale trout were brought in from the Thunder Sea mere hours ago.” He helped himself to a generous portion of the trout, along with a salad made from watercress and other Marcher staples.

After Lei had filled her plate, Lailin led her over to another
table where a few others were already seated. “Lord Alais, do you mind if we join you?”

“Not at all.” The speaker was in his middle years, but lean and handsome. He rose and pulled out a chair for Lei. “And who is your charming companion, Lailin?”

“My name is Lei, my lord,” she replied. “Former heir of the House of Making, now finding my own way in the world.”

It was interesting to watch the man’s reaction. There were dozens of physical traits that distinguished the dragonmarked bloodlines—a certain shade of hair or eye, curve of cheek, slant of nose. Each house had thousands of members, and these traits were many and varied. But Lei had paid close attention to the subject in her schooling, and she was fairly certain this man wasn’t an heir himself. This was why she’d chosen him as her test subject. For an instant, his eyes widened in surprise, then they narrowed, and she could see his interest growing. He took her proffered hand, brushing her fingers with dry lips as he gazed into her eyes.