The Shattered Land: The Dreaming Dark - Book 2 (30 page)

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.

D
aine swore silently. He’d seen worse in the war, but those were times he’d done his best to forget. At first it seemed that the corpse had been cleaved in two, but the truth was far more disturbing. Only half of the body was intact. As for the rest—what Daine had taken for bloodstains were actually the pulped remnants of flesh and bone. It seemed that the man’s body had been caught beneath a wheel of razor-sharp spikes, and from the pattern of the spray the wheel was spinning at a tremendous speed. Daine knelt next to the corpse. The snow hid any distinguishing features that were left to him and obscured his clothing. Daine was reaching out to brush away the concealing snow when Pierce gave a sharp gesture.

Enemy. Holding position—possible ambush
. He pointed toward the beached boat.

Lei had come up from the shore, and she was stopped short by the sight of the devastated body. “Claws of the Keeper,” she whispered. “What could do something like this?”

“Whatever it is, it’s long gone,” Daine said. “This boat’s probably been here for days. Weeks, even.” As he spoke, he signaled with his fingers, drawing Lei’s attention to their hidden foe.
Moving in. Give ranged support—nonlethal if possible
.

“Good,” Lei said. “We’ve got enough to worry about with the cold, but I would like to take a moment to study … this, if you don’t mind. I’d like to know what’s out there.”

She knelt beside the corpse and drew a crystal and a short
wooden wand from her pouch. Doing her best to ignore the grisly spectacle and focus on her work, she ran the carved stick around the edge of the crystal and concentrated on infusing the shard with the energies she needed.

Daine could hear Lakashtai and Gerrion emerging from the river, but there was no time to explain, and in any case neither of them was familiar with Cyran military signals. Best to move quickly and hope they were smart enough to recognize the situation on their own. Under optimal circumstances Daine could have crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, but the deep snow slowed his movement. Moving calmly and carefully, he made his way to the hull of the opposing vessel. He took a deep breath, the chill air sharp in his lungs, and dove around the bow.

Nothing. Just shadows and blowing snow.

Pierce himself had disappeared. Daine hoped that he had drawn any enemy’s attention away from the warforged, allowing him to do what he did best. Daine put his back to the boat, studying the ground for any signs of tracks or recent motion, then he saw it—a small figure almost hidden in the falling snow and the shadows of night, a gnome or perhaps a human child. Daine couldn’t see a weapon in the silhouette, though in this age of magic the enemy without a weapon could be the most dangerous foe of all. This might be the child of the dead sailor, but Daine couldn’t take any chances.

“You!
Step forward, hands where they can be seen.” Daine had his blade leveled at the shadow in the snow, and he was tensed to leap into the darkness. “Come forward slowly. If you engage in any sort of hostile action, you’ll have three arrows in your chest before you have time to blink.”

“I never blink.” The sound was like hissing steam in a kettle of tal—a warforged voice. The stranger slowly moved into the pool of light that emanated from the glowing coin.

Behind Daine, Lei drew in a sharp breath. It was all Daine could do to restrain himself from lashing out, striking the construct before it could come closer.

Beneath the layer of shimmering frost, the plates of the ’forged were blackened metal, engraved with strange patterns and words in a language Daine didn’t know. While its
hands were empty, dozens of two-inch blades were folded back against its arms and torso, and Daine knew from experience that these could rise up and lock into place to serve as deadly weapons. Its arms were long and spindly, out of proportion with its childlike torso, and its head was the narrow wedge of a rat or weasel, complete with a mouth full of steel teeth. It was not the strange appearance of the construct that caused Daine’s fingers to whiten against the hilt of his sword. He’d seen a warforged like this before. He’d destroyed one, maybe more than one.

At Keldan Ridge.

“Where did you come from?” Daine snarled. Every instinct urged him to strike before the creature could act. Memories rose in his mind, fresh from recent nightmares—this rat-like construct leaping the barricade, only to be shot down by Lei. It couldn’t be the same one. They’d left it in pieces, but he’d never seen any warforged like this anywhere else—and it sure didn’t look like the work of House Cannith. “What are you doing here?”

The warforged had a slightly hunched posture, and its neck was just a little too long and too flexible. It turned its head to the right, scanning the landscape.

Daine lashed out with his sword. The scout had kept its distance, but Daine wasn’t trying for a solid blow; he just tapped the point of his blade against the edge of the creature’s head. It jerked back, its blades snapping into attack position.

“Answer my questions.
Now.”

“You are no threat.”

“That’s why I have friends. Pierce? Two.”

Nothing happened.

Then there was a blur of motion, as two long arrows came out of the snow to strike the strange warforged, catching it in the lightly armored cavity just below its right arm. The warforged hissed so loudly that Daine thought Pierce had struck some sort of reservoir of steam trapped within its body.

It was a perfect shot—but Pierce had hesitated.
Why?
“I’m waiting for an answer, as is my threatening friend.”

“You cannot destroy me.” Even with the arrows half-buried in its torso, the warforged spoke with eerie confidence. Daine
was used to dealing with warforged. Pierce was his friend—and he was far from the only warforged Daine had served with during the war, but most warforged were designed to resemble humans. This thing—it violated those principles. Its posture, its proportions, its teeth—it was all wrong, and Daine found it unsettling on a level he couldn’t really explain.

“Maybe not, but I’m really looking forward to trying,” he said. “I’ll ask you one more time. Why are you here? What did you do to him?” Daine gestured at the frozen corpse with the point of his sword.

“I serve my purpose, breather.” It brought its arm down sharply, snapping off the shafts of the arrows embedded it its right armpit. “Nothing you do matters.”

“I … I don’t like the thought of it, but if we subdue it, I might be able to torture it,” Lei whispered, just behind him. Daine kept his eyes on the stranger, but from Lei’s tone, he could tell that she was disturbed by its presence. “Warforged don’t feel pain in exactly the same way that we do, but if I slowly damage its lifeweb—it certainly won’t enjoy it.”