The shadow of the daelkyr made no noise, but suddenly it seemed as if all of the tortured spirits of Jhegesh Dol gave one last wail.
The black fortress and the daelkyr faded into pearl-gray mist on an empty marsh. Geth froze. Natrac, standing on a low hillock of grass gasped and pointed with his hunda stick. The shifter spun around.
Less than ten paces away, Batul, Krepis, and Orshok stood under the branches of the tree that marked the edge of Jhegesh Dol. Behind them, the eastern sky showed the pale pink of dawn. Geth leaped down from the broken chunk of rock that he stood on and sloshed across the wet ground to face them.
“We’re here,” he spat, still breathing hard from his phantom battle. “Satisfied?”
But all three druids were simply staring at him. Even Batul’s eyes were wide. Geth looked down at his hands. In his left he held the notched sword. In his right, the big amulet that had hung from the daelkyr’s neck. There was something inside the amulet he saw now, a coarse, dull black object nearly as large as his palm.
“Gatekeeper legends,” said Batul in an awestruck voice, “tell that when the daelkyr lord of Jhegesh Dol was brought down, two treasures vanished from Eberron. One was the sword, forged by Dhakaani smiths, of the hobgoblin hero who struck the killing blow. The other was a sacred relic, a scale from Vvaraak, the dragon who taught the first druids.” He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the amulet.
Geth held it out to him. “Keep your word and stand with us against Dah’mir,” he growled, “and you can have one of those treasures back.”
CHAPTER 14
They arrived at the Bonetree camp with the sun high in the sky. The young hunters leaped out of the boats and splashed through the shallows to draw the vessels up on shore. On the riverbank above, there were excited shouts that rose into one of the fluting trills that Singe had learned to identify as Bonetree hunting calls.
“What are they saying?” he asked Ashi.
“That Dah’mir has returned,” the hunter whispered. “That the hunt was successful.”
There was no emotion in her voice. She’d said almost nothing to him since the night Dandra had woken screaming, but neither had she strayed far from his side. The young hunters were always watching Singe now, at least as much as they watched Ashi. True to Ashi’s prediction, there had been two more challenges for her sword. The second challenger she wounded as she had the first. The third she killed, her face hard.
That hardness hadn’t lifted.
As they climbed out of the boats, one of the young hunters began shouting at the others, forming them up into a pack, ready to lead Dah’mir and Medala up the riverbank. A ragtag honor guard, Singe realized. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw anger flicker in Ashi’s eyes. She started to move toward the hunters but Dah’mir glanced at her. “Stay with the prisoners, Ashi,” he told her.
“My place is leading the hunters, Revered,” she said, but the green-eyed man shook his head.
“You have a greater honor,” he said and once again Singe could feel the persuasive touch of his presence. “Bring the prisoners behind me so that the clan can see them.”
Even Ashi’s anger softened before his charm. She nodded and moved forward obediently. Dandra needed no encouragement to follow Dah’mir, of course. She stumbled after him like a zombie. Even after days of travel, it still hurt Singe to see the proud, bright woman reduced to a dim automaton.
Singe, though, froze on the river’s edge. This was the end of their journey-and Geth hadn’t come for them. The hope of rescue that he might have nurtured over the past several days wavered like a candle flame.
Ashi reached back and took his arm. “Come,” she said.
At the top of the riverbank, the Bonetree encampment spread out around them, a scattering of rough shelters that seemed to be half hut and half tent. Men, women, and children-the first of the Bonetree clan he had seen, Singe realized, who were not hunters-hurried forward, calling out to the hunters and kneeling down to Dah’mir. The young hunters marched with all the self-conscious stiffness of fresh recruits to the Blademarks, but Dah’mir smiled and held out his hand, offering blessings freely. At his side, Medala’s eyes darted across the gathered clan as if seeking out any hint of a threat to her lord.
Calls and praise turned to stony silence when Singe and Dandra passed.
As they passed a cluster of better shelters, a handful of older hunters stood watching. Singe’s gut sank a little lower. He thought he recognized some of the hunters. They were the ones who had attacked Bull Hollow.
Ashi’s face lit up. “Breff!” she called out to one tattooed man. Singe saw her eyes dart among the older hunters, then narrow. She said something to Breff in the language of the Bonetree clan. “Ches azams esheios?”
Breff shook his head.
For the last several days, Singe had been listening to the hunters as they traveled upriver, trying to unravel a little of their language. He strained to make some sense of Ashi’s words. Azams were other members of the clan. Shei was to hunt. Sheios-they hunt … Are the others hunting?
“Ashi,” he murmured, “should there be more hunters?”
“Yes.” She called to Breff again, waving him closer. “Gri’i ans kriri?”
“We’re the only ones,” Breff said. Singe felt a shock at hearing him speak another language. The hunter’s words were low and his voice was brittle, as if he was discussing some terrible, haunting secret he wanted no one else to hear. “Hruucan set a hard pace on the journey back. Anyone who was too badly wounded …”
He stopped, glancing up.
Dah’mir stood beside them.
Ashi’s face fell and Singe’s belly trembled, but Dah’mir ignored them both and instead looked at Breff. The tattooed man’s gaze slid to the ground.
Dah’mir took a step back. “Hunters,” he said gently, “come to me.” He gestured to the younger hunters as well as the older. “All of you.”
They clustered around him, pierced and tattooed savages kneeling before a dark, immaculate priest. Only Ashi stood back, staying in her place between Singe and Dandra. Dah’mir stretched out his hands, laying one on Breff’s shoulder. “First among the Bonetree,” he said, “my loyal servants, be glad! To fall at the command of a child of Khyber is an honor! The clan will tell tales of the fallen for generations. Yours was a hunt to be remembered.” He gestured with his free hand, indicating Dandra and Singe. “What you sought has been found and new blood for the Bonetree along with it.” He smiled and his green eyes flashed. “Be blessed, hunters of the Bonetree! May the Dragon Below restore your ferocity!”
Singe felt the breath of magic as foul as Fause’s healing of his arm and shivered. He couldn’t imagine that more than few of the kneeling hunters understood Dah’mir’s words, but when they looked up, there was a new light in their eyes. Their fingers rose, darting to their lips and their foreheads. Breff’s eyes seemed brightest of all. “Harana!” he moaned, and leaned forward to kiss the hem of Dah’mir’s leather robes. The green-eyed man raised his hand and all of the hunters leaped to their feet, joining in his honor guard.
None of them looked at Ashi a second time, so caught up were they in reverent adoration of Dah’mir. Singe glanced at her, but her expression was once again hard. He turned away and looked ahead.
The Bonetree mound rose above them. Singe bit his tongue. It was as large as a hill, but after the flatness of the Shadow Marches and with no other hills around, it looked enormous. “That can’t be natural!” he said.
“It isn’t,” Ashi grunted. She didn’t look at him, but she said, “There are stories told by the elders that describe how the earliest members of the clan built it in honor of the Dragon Below. It’s said that once a Gatekeeper circle stood here, but that Dah’mir shattered it and raised the ancestor mound in its place. Now he lives beneath the mound with the children of Khyber. No member of the clan sets foot inside it, but there are other stories of passages that lead deep into Khyber and of Dah’mir’s treasure.”