Hell's teeth! What was that? Freeze, don't breathe, turn slowly—aah! What's that brilliance that burns my eyes?
Fire. Hell's teeth, it's a blossom of fire from nothing, searing my eyes, near but not yet upon me. Back away, remember there's no sound, duck so as not to move the branches, hide beneath the shadow of the bare trees, better than nothing. My mind knows they cannot see me, but if they turn suddenly or run into me by chance all is over with me. By damn, those things are huge, and two of them draw near to the cave mouth.
The largest—dark bronze, with a gem in his forehead that winks deepest ruby in the firelight—enters with the flaming branch, while the other, bright copper with lackluster eyes, sits without not twenty paces from me. Breathe, Marik, breathe, if this one waits the other surely will not be long.
At last! I have waited an eternity here, and at last it comes out again. The painful fire is quenched in the leaf mould, the bronze one joins its companion and they move away northward. Breathe, Marik. It is astounding. For all their size they move swiftly and silently as cats, leaving only the least trembling of the grass, the lightest whisper of rustling leaves to mark their going.
Wait but a moment longer, beat steady my heart, breathe deep and lose the fear that caught me. The peril now is past. Before me the cave mouth beckons with the promise of riches untold, lying there now unguarded. I see in my mind's eye the open cask full of flickering gems and enter the Dragons' treasure chamber.
The outer room is huge and lined with gold to a depth of some inches. Its call would be difficult to resist were it not for the gems.
Even in this cave the dark is not absolute. My eyes, now recovered, catch the glint of the many vast gems thickset in great slabs of gold on the back wall. Still I am not tempted, it would take far longer than I have to dig them out of their settings. I step closer—
And there, on its golden pedestal, sits the object of all my cost, all my travail. A rough golden cask, like a great bowl, filled nearly to overflowing with the gems that flicker and change with the patterns of their inner fire. It is all I can do not to laugh aloud. Here at last, and so simple withal. I put my hand out to touch, and pause.
They are so very beautiful. I, with my good head for business and sharp eye to the value of a thing rather than its artistry, stand entranced by the wonder of what lies before me. Time seems to pause, hovers in my hand, in the eternal moment between thought and action.
How long have I stood here spellbound? Listen for the beat of the amulet—still strong and steady, I have not tarried too long. These gems have blinded me, deafened me, immobilized me, until at last some deep instinct has warned me that I am bounded by time and must do what I have come to do or leave. Or?
No, not or.
And.
The cask is heavier than I thought it would be, surely this much gold alone is worth many lives of men. In seconds it lies with its contents in the pack I have brought, a dead weight, a precious burden on my shoulder beneath my cloak of borrowed darkness.
Now to leave swiftly, back into the night, back towards the Boundary. I gather my strength and start to run. Lords of Hell, this thing is heavy! But the worst is that I have lost track of time and cannot tell how much longer my amulet will last.
What is that noise? A high keening sound that grates on my nerves, speeds my heart even faster, sets my teeth on edge.
Hell's teeth. It's coming from the gems.
"Lanen, child, wake up. You'll catch your death out here."
I swam reluctantly up from a deep well of sleep to Rella's touch on my shoulder and her voice in my ear. I blinked in the moonlight, slowly realising that many of the Kindred were standing in the clearing talking in very low voices. It took me a moment to work out exactly where I was—leaning against rock, cold and stiff—a cave, no, the Council chamber—then I was wide awake.
"Rella, how did you get here?" I asked, stumbling grace-lessly to my feet.
When I heard the hiss of amusement, I turned to find Shikrar on the other side of me. I nodded to him, trying to hide my disappointment at seeing bronze instead of silver.
"Is there any word from Akor?" I asked. "Has anyone found Marik?"
"Lord Akhor bespoke me not long since, Lady," replied Shikrar. "He has overflown the Gedri camp, and says that Mistress Rella speaks truly—all is being removed and taken in darkness to the southern shore. Of Marik there is nor sight nor smell."
"Well, there wouldn't be, would there?" said Rella. "He's been in once and out again and you none the wiser. Have you something he would want, some treasure perhaps? He's here to make his fortune, sure and certain, and if the camp is all broke down he'll take what he's after and straight to the ship with it."
''By the treaty he must meet with us at dawn to tell us he is leaving," said Shikrar, obviously distressed at this reminder of Marik's ability to come and go unnoticed. "If he does not, we are within our rights to attack him."
I could swear Shikrar looked pleased at the idea. I couldn't blame him. So was I.
"Yes, well, he's sure to stick to the treaty, isn't he?" said Rella wryly.
"Why not have all the Kindred go to their own chambers and stay there?" I asked. "If there is something he seeks in one of these caves, I'd guess that finding it occupied would slow him down, at the very least."
"It is well spoken," replied Shikrar. He called out aloud to those of the Kindred who were still nearby. ''Let us return to our homes, my people, and each keep safe his own dwelling. When the intruder is found, the Council will resume. This is the counsel of the Eldest and the Keeper of Souls."
And the Dragons melted away like ice in sunshine, swift and silent, until only Shikrar stood with Rella and me. "I too must go, the Chamber of Souls must be guarded," he said, and suddenly the idea of waiting helplessly so far away and so alone terrified me.
"Let us come with you," I said, ashamed of my fear but sure of what I asked. Shikrar looked surprised, so I added, "We can't go into Akor's chambers. I suspect Rishkaan would take his chances with the Council and kill me if he had half a chance, despite Kédra. And if Marik comes here, hidden from sight and sound—well, it wouldn't be as clean as Rishkaan, but the end would be the same. Please, Shikrar," I begged, despising myself. Just like the idiots in the ballads. Damn.
I did not recognise the Attitude Shikrar took on, but his voice sounded an odd mixture of annoyance and approval. ''Very well. Come, we must hurry. Both of you sit upon my neck, as Akhor bore you, Lanen. It will be the swiftest." And he put his head on the ground.
I was just reaching out to clamber onto his neck when with a hiss and a deep rumbling growl he sat bolt upright, knocking me to the ground, his head whipping round to the southeast as though his gaze would pierce darkness, distance and all. My heart dropped into my stomach, for I knew the instant he did. I cannot imagine how, but I knew, even before Akor's cry echoed in my mind.
The soulgems of the Lost.
Marik had them.
I was stabbed with the theft as with a lance of ice, as I rode the night wind to the north and west seeking I knew not what. My back arched, my neck snapped skyward and I split the night with a plume of Fire to hallow my vengeance, for I was seized in that instant with a purpose beside which all else was nought. I would save the Lost Ones from this final desecration or die in the attempt.
I cried out to Lanen, a wordless cry of loss and desolation, as in my soul I knew this must be the death of all our words in Council. I turned on the wind and flew fast as thought, calling to Shikrar as I went. "Shikrar, Keeper of Souls, command me!"