He only looked at her and shook his head. “You understand so little. It’s real. It’s more real than you know.”
The walls that surrounded the alley had begun to fall away as they walked. At the far end of the alley, they were little more than stacks of stone loosely held by crumbling mortar. Open space loomed ahead and a moment later they stepped clear of the alley. Malleon’s Gate lay at their back. Before them was a deep canyon and the edge of the plateau on which the oldest parts of Sharn had been built. In the far distance, across the canyon, she could just make out the bulky roots of the great towers that rose on Sharn’s other plateaus. Ancient stonework hid the natural ground at her feet, but the drop was still as sheer and dangerous as any cliff Dandra had ever seen.
Moon grasped her hand suddenly and, for a moment, fear gripped her as well-if Moon meant to turn against them, this was as good a spot as any-but he just drew her along a narrow path that followed the lonely edge. Dandra heard Ashi gasp and Singe curse as they emerged from the alley in turn and caught sight of the strange vista, but she didn’t dare to turn on the narrow path to look back. She could float, but she couldn’t fly, and while slipping off the edge wouldn’t be fatal, it would be inconvenient.
The path Moon followed led them back toward the arena. The ruins didn’t quite reach the tall walls-it looked like they had been cleared to make way for the arena-but the fire of the guards was well distant along the street. Moon’s hold on Dandra’s hand tightened, and he raced with her across the open space. A broken wall jutted from the end of the arena, running right up to the edge of the canyon. Moon tugged Dandra through a gap, and they were on a sort of terrace, perhaps built as a private retreat for the more important patrons of the arena.
They were also, briefly, alone. The instant they were beyond the wall, Moon swung Dandra around, pulling her close and wrapping his free hand around her waist to tug her down so that their faces were level. The pupils of his eyes had shrunk down to small dots like black holes in his face. He pointed at an open doorway leading from the terrace into the shadows of the arena’s interior. When he spoke, his voice was an urgent rasp. “Don’t scream or Dah’mir will hear you,” he said. “I’m taking a chance for you. Listen to me: when the time comes, don’t resist.”
Dandra shoved at him, trying to pry herself free, but his hold on her was strong. “Let me go, Moon!”
He gave her a shake. “Tell me you won’t resist, Tetkashtai! Tell me you won’t resist!”
She glared at him. “I’m not Tetkashtai!”
“You are. Inside you are. Dandra is a part of Tetkashtai and Tetkashtai is a part of Dandra. I should kill you the way I’m supposed to, but I can’t do it. I want you to join us, the way it was supposed to be.” His arms opened, and he held her only with his tiny, mad eyes. “Dah’mir will succeed in Sharn. I’m going to make sure he does. Your friends have to die, but you can survive if you-”
Deep inside Dandra, something stirred, and she knew with an abrupt certainty that the young kalashtar before her was no longer Moon, that the rebellious youth was gone. Someone else looked out at her from behind his eyes. Someone else spoke through his mouth.
“-just-”
And maybe, she realized, that someone was right that Tetkashtai remained a part of her. Feelings that were less memory than instinct rose out of her. The arm that had been around her waist, the way it had tugged her down to look into a familiar face, the way a phrase was turned, the tones beneath Moon’s voice …
“-don’t-”
And the thing that she and Singe had missed fell into place. Moon hadn’t loved her-or Tetkashtai-any more than he had known where to find Dah’mir. But someone else had loved Tetkashtai. Someone who had mastered the power of the long step, who knew how to use it as a weapon as Erimelk and Moon had.
“-resist!”
And her voice cracked as she said in amazement, “Virikhad?”
Moon’s eyes lit up at the name of Tetkashtai’s lover. “Suri! You remember me!” He reached for her again.
Dandra jerked on her spear, snapping the butt of it up between Moon’s legs, and his words ended in a horrible gurgle. She thrust herself away from him, and her spear spun again. The shaft cracked against the side of Moon’s head, and he went down, eyes rolling back to show white before falling closed.
Beyond his unconscious body, Singe and Ashi froze on the broken wall, their faces wide in surprise. “Dandra!” hissed Singe. “What-?”
Dandra let her spear fall and pushed her mind out to the wizard and the hunter before either of them could speak again. Be quiet! she said through kesh. She pointed at the passage leading from the terrace into the arena. He said Dah’mir is inside.
Singe’s face darkened as he came forward, trading silently. He tried to warn him?
No, said Dandra. She settled onto the ground and knelt to touch Moon’s head. He’d have a nasty bruise, but he wasn’t seriously injured. He tried to warn me-or at least, he tried to warn Tetkashtai.
She passed the events of the last few moments through the mental link, then let the connection of kesh fade. Singe’s eyebrows rose. Ashi’s body tensed.
“Virikhad survived Medala’s destruction at the Bonetree mound?” she asked in a whisper. “How is that possible?”
Dandra kept her voice low too. “I don’t know. Maybe he was stronger than I thought he was.” She bit her lip. “I wonder if he wasn’t the only one to survive. He said ‘I want you to join us, the way it was supposed to be.’”
“Medala,” Singe said. “Tetkashtai, Virikhad, and Medala were supposed to be the first servants Dah’mir created for the Master of Silence. But if she survived too, where is she? Wouldn’t two kalashtar at a time fall to the killing song then?”
“One answer, more questions. I wouldn’t even be certain Virikhad is still inside Moon. He might have left him when I knocked him out. There could be another victim of the killing song waiting for us in Overlook.” An unpleasant thought struck Dandra. “Unless he’s gone to tell Dah’mir.”
Singe shook his head. “If he had, we wouldn’t still be standing here. But why wouldn’t he?” His eyes opened wide abruptly. “Twelve bloody moons. I don’t think Dah’mir knows Virikhad survived either! Remember how he acted at Tzaryan Keep? Until he found Taruuzh’s binding stones, he thought you were the last link to his experiments, Dandra. He wouldn’t have thought that if he knew Virikhad or Medala was still alive.”
“But why would Virikhad secretly be helping Dah’mir then?” Ashi asked. “He said he was going to make sure Dah’mir succeeded in Sharn-we don’t even know what Dah’mir is supposed to succeed at.”
Dandra drew a deep breath. “We can find out though,” she said. “If Dah’mir hasn’t come for us yet, chances are he still doesn’t know we’re on his doorstep.” She turned to the passage into the arena. “We came to spy on him. Let’s do it.”
Ashi stayed with Moon. Dandra was certain her blow would keep him unconscious long enough for them to get into and out of the arena, but they couldn’t take the chance that he might wake. If Virikhad was still in control of the young man, he’d certainly try to betray them-and if he wasn’t, there was a strong chance that Moon would wake to the same screaming violence as Erimelk. Dandra almost thought that she saw his lips twitch, as if some part of him was still singing the killing song, even as she and Singe stepped into the passage.