“Keep going!” he said. Ekhaas wasn’t out of the cavern yet. As the light of Dandra’s torch receded and the chamber fell into darkness, Geth realized that the tomb of Taruuzh was glowing with a pale, silver-white light. Against that light, Ekhaas looked almost spectral herself.
The mask of frost on Taruuzh’s effigy had changed again. The stone hobgoblin’s face was at peace, as if dreaming of ancient glories. Ekhaas, still singing, stepped past him. Geth fell in behind her, guarding her retreat more out of habit and respect than actual effectiveness-if Taruuzh’s anger had reached after them, he knew there wouldn’t be a cursed thing he could do about it.
But the ghost didn’t come after them and the temperature rose swiftly as they climbed. Dandra had been right-the cave air couldn’t have been more than cool, but it felt warm like summer. Geth let out a sigh of relief.
The stairs were steep, but not long; they opened into a short, unadorned hallway that ended in a wall rigged with a heavy iron arm much like the one that opened the hidden door in the chasm beneath Tzaryan Rrac. From this side, the door, with its latches and handles, was obvious. Dandra and Ashi were waiting for them. As Ekhaas stepped off the stairs and set foot on level ground, she finally stopped singing, took a deep breath and stretched. “Khaavolaar!” she groaned.
“Ekhaas, that was amazing!” said Dandra.
“I wouldn’t be much of a duur’kala if I couldn’t bring courage and calm when they were needed.” The hobgoblin’s old arrogance was back, but also a hint of well-deserved pride. Geth could tell from her face and the set of her ears that she knew she had done something extraordinary.
Something in the wails of Taruuzh’s ghost gnawed at him, though, and left a sick feeling in his throat. “Ekhaas, did Taruuzh say what I thought he said? That his stones-” He tried to recall the spirit’s words. “‘-are saved up against the day that Aryd foresaw.’”
Ekhaas started, pride and arrogance vanishing into the shock of someone caught in a lie. Dandra blinked and stiffened. “Taruuzh’s stones?” she asked. “The original binding stones? Light of il-Yannah, they can’t still exist, can they?” She turned to face Ekhaas. “But your story of the Battle of Moths-you said they were all destroyed to create the Gatekeeper seal that imprisoned the Master of Silence.”
The hobgoblin’s ears twitched back. “I didn’t tell you everything. But what I didn’t tell you … it didn’t seem important. There’s an old legend-almost forgotten now-that Aryd convinced Taruuzh to set aside a small box of his stones before the battle, that she’d foreseen a second invasion of Eberron and that the stones would be needed again.”
Dandra’s eyes opened wide. Her mouth clenched tight in silent horror. Geth growled at Ekhaas. “How could you think that wasn’t important?” he demanded.
“Because no one believes it’s anything more than a legend!” Ekhaas said. “The Kech Volaar hold tight to our history, but even we know not everything is the whole truth. The tale says Taruuzh hid the stones before his death. Marg himself searched for them and found nothing. That’s why he tried recreating the stones on his own. Generations of duur’kala hunted for them, too. They were never found. The riddle that was supposed to be the clue to their location couldn’t be solved.” She spread her hands. “The legend was set aside as a wild treasure hunt.”
“No one listened to the ghost?”
Ekhaas bared her teeth. “Did you listen to me when I said I didn’t know about the ghost? This might be the first time anyone has ever encountered it!”
Dandra spoke suddenly, her voice hollow and frightened. “‘The time will come again. Three great works stand together as allies: treasure, key, guardian, disciple, and lord.’ Singe read that on the statue in the great chamber of Taruuzh Kraat. Is that the riddle?”
“Yes,” said Ekhaas. “What drove those who hunted for the hidden stones is that the riddle of Taruuzh sounds so easily solved. ‘The time will come again’ refers to Aryd’s prophecy. The riddle says ‘three great works,’ wonders crafted by Taruuzh, but mentions five things, so two things aren’t works, but something else. The treasure is the stones, Taruuzh’s second greatest work after the grieving tree. The first grieving tree stands in Taruuzh Kraat and was thought to be the guardian. ‘Disciple and lord’ was believed to refer to Dhakaani lords and Gatekeeper druids, sometimes called the disciples of Vvaraak-the allies that put an end to the daelkyr invasion. The searchers believed that Taruuzh was saying that the Dhakaani and the orcs would need to ‘stand together as allies’ to find the stones, just as they’d need to ally to stop a second invasion.”
“So the riddle seems to tell where to find the treasure and who can find it,” said Dandra. “What about the key? Was that Taruuzh’s third great work?”
“It seems like it should have been.” Ekhaas shook her head. “But the problem was that no one knew what Taruuzh’s third great work was. Duur’kala compiled lists of the greatest wonders he created, trying to find a clue-but there was nothing. The riddle had no answer.”
The sick feeling that had gnawed at Geth turned into a terrible ache. “It has an answer,” he said slowly. “The duur’kala were just too caught up in legends to see it.”
Ekhaas’s ears laid back. “Are you joking?”
“No.” Geth swallowed. He lifted Wrath and repeated the wistful words that Taruuzh’s ghost had spoken. “They call me daashor, but I was first a smith. I made wonders, but your pure perfection brought the most pride of all to my heart.”
As if in confirmation, a long, ghostly sigh drifted up the stairs from the cave below.
“Khaavolaar,” Ekhaas whispered in wonder.
Dandra, however, staggered back against Ashi, her eyes full of terror. “Il-Yannah’s perfect light illuminate us. If Dah’mir were to find out about this …”
“He may not know about the riddle,” said Ashi. “This may mean nothing to him.”
“The Riddle of Taruuzh isn’t well-known, but it’s no secret,” Ekhaas pointed out.
“Maybe he doesn’t understand the clues,” the hunter said hopefully.
Dandra’s face drew tight. “Dah’mir laired in Taruuzh Kraat. He studied Marg’s writings. He spent two hundred years working with the binding stone. He’s a dragon. How can he not understand the clues?” She stood up and paced across the width of the hallway. “Il-Yannah, we know what he was able to do with Marg’s imperfect re-creation of the binding stones. Imagine what he could do with Taruuzh’s originals!”
“He doesn’t have the answer yet,” Greth growled. He thrust Wrath back into its sheath. “All we have to do is make sure he never finds out about this sword-”
Terrible, deep laughter cut him off. Words rumbled through the hallway. “Too late, Geth.”
With a horrible crash, something huge slammed against the other side of the hidden door. The force of the impact shook the floor, sending them staggering. Great talons punched through the cracks that opened around the door, clenched on the rock, and heaved. A deafening bellow of exertion broke the air. The door ripped away, its iron arm twisting and snapping with an agonized squeal.
Acid-green eyes peered through the ruined opening. “Far too late!” roared Dah’mir.
CHAPTER 19
The overwhelming strength of Dah’mir’s presence gripped Dandra. She was drowning, swallowed by the dragon’s irresistible personality. Her world dimmed. All she could do was stare in awe at the eyes that stared through a door too narrow for the dragon’s head.
There’d been no warning this time from Tetkashtai. Her creator’s terror had gone beyond rising and falling. The borders of Dandra’s mind were battered by a constant storm of yellow-green light and wailing screams. The eerie silence of the caves, the ghost’s frigid attack, Dah’mir’s sudden appearance-they were all the same to Tetkashtai.