The Shattered Land: The Dreaming Dark - Book 2 (11 page)

When it came down to it, he’d let his disgust with his house cloud his judgment of Lei. He remembered his own childhood, and he’d always assumed that Lei’s naïveté was the result of pampering and luxury, far from the suffering of the war. Now he tried to imagine a child among an army of warforged, going through their drills and preparing to be sent to the field. He rubbed his scar again, stood up and walked toward her.

“Lei.”

Silence.

“Lei, just listen.” Daine clenched his burned fist, hoping the pain would focus his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I should know that you can handle yourself. After what we went through in the Mournlands, even the last few months … I know what you’re capable of.”

She continued to watch the water. She might have been a statue—or a warforged sentry, standing watch.

“It’s just … I feel …” He slammed a fist onto the rail in frustration. “Fine. It’s Jode.”

Lei looked over, green eyes wide. She said nothing, but the question was obvious.

Daine took a deep breath. “I let him go, Lei. I could have stopped him. Perhaps if I’d gone with him, things would have turned out differently, but even before that … I never pressed him, never forced him to learn to fight.” Each word was a weight on his tongue, each one heavier than the last.

Lei’s anger melted in the face of his despair. “He was a healer,” she murmured, “a dragonmark. He wasn’t a target on the battlefield …”

“I was his friend. I could have taught him what I know. I could have made him learn.”

“No one could make Jode do anything he didn’t want to do.”

“It’s not just Jode,” Daine said. “In my dreams—Jholeg, Krazhal, Jani, even thrice-damned Saerath. All dead.”

“All soldiers,” Lei reminded him. “Now you’re going to take responsibility for everyone who died in the war?”

Daine looked away. “People die in war. That’s unavoidable, but could I have done more? I can’t even remember what happened at Keldan Ridge. Did I lead them into disaster? Am I doing it again? I could have made you and Pierce stay in Sharn.”

“Oh, and Sharn is the safest place in Khorvaire? If it’s Sharn without you or Xen’drik with you, I’ll feel safer in Xen’drik.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and ran her finger along the tense muscles of his neck. “You can’t take responsibility for everything, Daine. We’re in this together.”

Now it was Daine who said nothing.

“Come,” Lei said, taking his arm and pulling him away from the rail. “Let’s go another round. Let me show you what I can really do. I think a few bruises are just what you need to clear your head.”

Daine nodded, but the faces of the dead were still fresh in his mind.

“Better,” Daine said.

“Bold talk for someone lying on the ground,” Lei said, the
point of her staff pressed against his chest.

“This is practice. If I don’t let you get away with something occasionally, you’ll never learn the technique.”

“Oh, so you
let
me trip you?” Lei lowered the staff and offered her hand, pulling Daine to his feet. Despite her slender frame, she was surprisingly strong.

“Believe what you will,” Daine said with a smile. “Now you’re still leaving yourself open—”

He was interrupted by the ringing of the deck bell.
What now?
he thought. Moments later, crewmen were scrambling across the deck.

“Look at the main sail,” Lei said. “The wind just turned, and only the captain could order that. I think we’re coming to a halt.”

“Why? I don’t see any land.” Daine studied the horizon. “Wait. What’s that?”

There was a patch of purple weed floating off the starboard bow—a mass of seaweed some twenty feet across.

“It seems like it would be easy enough to steer around,” Lei said, “unless … it’s some sort of marker.”

“We’ll see,” Daine said. “Perhaps you’ll have a chance to put our practice to work.”

Lei’s assumption was correct. A moment later, the magical wind that filled the main sail died completely, and the vessel stood at rest on the water. Crewman lowered the anchor and threw something else over the side … a package of some sort? Daine wondered if this was some sort of sacrifice to the Devourer, the sinister god who embodied the destructive power of nature. Few people admitted to worshipping any of the Dark Six—the malevolent deities of the Sovereign Host—but he’d known many soldiers to say an occasional prayer to the Mockery when the odds were against them.

The captain came down from the wheelhouse, walking toward the knot of crewman. Daine caught up with him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing for you to be concerned about,” Helais d’Lyrandar said. “Routine procedure before entering Shargon’s Teeth, though perhaps it would be a good time for you to visit the mess.”

“Why’s that?” Daine wasn’t the most sensitive man, but even he could see that the captain was nervous. “I don’t know anything about routine procedures, so perhaps you could enlighten me.”

The captain scowled. “I don’t have time to talk to passengers right now. Stay out of the way!” He made his way to the knot of sailors standing by the anchor.

“He’s in a friendly mood,” Lei said.

“Stay ready,” Daine said. He walked slowly along the railing toward the knot of sailors, then a hand gripped the rail right in front of him.

It was covered in leathery green scales, still wet from the sea, each finger tipped with a sharp claw. A moment later a second hand appeared, and a horror pulled its way up to the edge. It was a hideous blend of man and armored fish, with two gleaming yellow eyes set above a wide mouth filled with needle-like teeth. A leather harness was wrapped around its torso, and a short barbed trident was slung over its back. Swearing, Daine drew back to strike—and suddenly found himself falling to the deck. Lei had tripped him with her staff. Before he could react, there was a hue and cry; the captain and the sailors had spotted the creature.

“Don’t hurt him!” the captain cried, and for a moment Daine thought Helais was talking about him. Then the creature pulled itself over the rail and onto the deck, and Daine realized that its presence was expected.

“Well, you were right,” Lei said, prodding him with her staff. “I did get to put our practice to work.”

The visitor’s name was Thaask, and it seemed that the captain had met him before.

“He’s a sahuagin,” Lei said, as they watched the captain talk to the creature.

“I thought sahuagin lived on a diet of fresh sailors.” Daine had heard tales of the fish-folk before, but he’d never seen one—and in all the stories he’d heard, these sea devils were a force to be feared.

“Sure, and ogres eat babies,” Lei said, “but not the ogres in
Malleon’s Gate. It’s dangerous to make assumptions.”

“What do you think this is about?” Daine said, watching the creature. The conversation with the captain seemed cordial enough, but something about the creature set him on edge.

“Helais said that we were about to enter Shargon’s Teeth. From what I’ve heard, that’s dangerous water—full of hidden reefs and … well, sahuagin. My guess is that the captain is paying for protection. Or a guide.”

Lei’s instincts were correct. A moment later, the captain handed a leather purse to the fish-man and gave a slight bow. Thaask echoed this with a slight nod of his angular head. The captain turned and spoke to the crew, and the sailors scattered across the decks, raising the sails and pulling up the anchor.

“If we’re entering the Straits, we’re almost to Stormreach,” Lei said. “It won’t be long now.”

“It can’t be soon enough for me … now what?”

Thaask was coming toward them. He had a strange, lopsided gait; it was clear that he preferred swimming to walking. He spoke, but the sound was a croaking gargle; Daine couldn’t make out the words. Daine still had his sword in his hand, but Lei stepped in front of him.

“What did you say?” Lei said. “I couldn’t understand.”

Thaask spoke again, slower and more clearly. “I give you greetings, daughter of air. Many storms have passed since last we met.”

Daine shot a sharp glance at Lei, but she seemed to be just as surprised as he was. “Since last we … I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

The sahuagin made a rasping sound that could just as easily have been a laugh or a cry of outrage. Eventually it spoke again. “I forget the way that age takes you creatures of earth and air. You would not wear the face in my memory if you were the one I met before, so you must be the daughter.”

“What are you talking about?” Lei said, her voice beginning to rise. Daine put a hand on her shoulder.

“Aleisa. This name is known to you?”

“That’s my mother!” Surprise diffused the growing anger, and Lei loosened her grip on her staff.

“It is she whom I took you to be. As a guardian of these
waters, I never forget my charges, and you and she are one and the same.”

“You met my mother? Sailing to Xen’drik?”

“Yes. Perhaps thirty of your years ago. An interesting one, she was, strong currents flowing, not like the man who was with her; he was ice in the deepest water, cold and still.”

“My father …” Lei said. She glanced at Daine. “I told you that they’d been to Xen’drik.” She turned her attention back to Thaask. “What can you tell me about them? Why were they traveling?”

“The cold one did not speak to me, but Aleisa and I talked often. She was curious about the secrets hidden in the deep waters, the ruins of those who went before. As we spoke, she told me of her own questing.”

Daine found the whole conversation hard to swallow. Here they were in the middle of the Thunder Sea, speaking with a walking fish that just happened to have met Lei’s parents. “Lei. This is some sort of trick …”

“No,” Lei said, holding up her hand. “Thaask, please. What was she looking for? It would mean a great deal to me.”

“Mean a great deal, hssh? When one has a thing of value, it is customary to offer a trade.”

“I knew it,” Daine growled. “He’s just trying to catch you in his net and reel you in, Lei.” He took Lei’s arm, but she pulled away and stood her ground.

“This is my choice. What is it you want?”

“Your mother gave me a gift—a stone of music, which would play when held. It was taken from me long ago by a tooth of the Devourer. I would have such a thing again.”

Lei nodded. “I could probably make you such a thing by the time we arrive at Stormreach.”

“I trust you to hold to this bargain, for the honor of your mother,” Thaask said, “and I will tell you what I know between my warning rounds. Two things were foremost on her mind, and I can speak of those now, before my work begins.”

“Please!” Lei said.

Daine sighed and sat down on the deck.

“She traveled with the other in search of the ruins of those who went before. Her people had given life to the
unliving, to create weapons of war—”

“The warforged, yes, I knew they worked on warforged.”

“She said that the old land held many secrets of those gone before,” Thaask said. He steepled his hands, tapping his yellowed claws together in a sharp click. “Her folk had plundered this knowledge to use in their creations, but she believed that there was far more to be found—that her kind had skimmed the surface without plumbing the depths. She wanted to find ways to improve these spawn of war, but she did not want to share her knowledge with her kin, whom she thought blinded by gold.”

“You said she spoke of two things.”

“Yes,” Thaask hissed. “The spawn of war, but also a child of her own. A daughter, she wanted. I told her of the spawning pits of my people, and she spoke of her desire for a daughter. It was a subject of sorrow for her, one of great difficulty, but one much on her mind. I am pleased to see that she met with success: She must be quite pleased.”

“She’s dead,” Lei said quietly.

“Yes, the great destruction on your land. We are glad this has come to an end; more ships sail this way, more needing protection of my kind, but my sorrows for her loss. I found her enjoyable company.”

“A subject of sorrow … what do you mean by that?”

“Difficulty with the spawning. I do not understand your reproductive cycles, but I know that the spawning often brings no children, and so it was with her. She felt that soon would change.”