But with the young kalashtar came Vennet, racing across the deck. “Save me!” he shouted. “You have to save me!”
Singe turned his head and bared his teeth at him. “The Master of Silence rewarded you with the Siberys Mark of Storm, didn’t he?” he said as smoothly as the hatred that twisted inside him would allow. “Command the wind to save you.”
Vennet’s face brightened. “Storm at dawn! Yes!” He turned to face into the wind of the airship’s passage and raised his arms. “Come!” he shouted, his hair whipping around his face. “Come! Your master commands it! Carry me to safety!”
For a moment, nothing seemed to happen-then Vennet’s feet rose from the deck of the ship.
A grin of triumph spread across his face. “I bear the Mark of Siberys!” he said. His voice rose into a howl. “The wind answers me! I command the storm!” He kicked himself away from the deck and drifted effortlessly toward the ship’s rail. The fear that had been in his eyes turned to rage as he glared at Singe and Dandra. “You will pay for your defiance of the powers of Khyber. Try to escape! I will blast you from the air!”
He pushed himself from the rail to stand firm on the empty air beyond and spread his arms again. “Vennet d’Lyrandar,” he crowed, “controls the skies!”
“Enjoy them,” said Dandra and through kesh, Singe felt her release a small part of her concentration.
There was confusion in Vennet’s eyes as he dropped and terror in the scream that faded into the distance below. Dandra’s arm tightened around Singe. He squeezed her back, then glanced at her.
“How do we get down?” he asked.
Her lips pressed together. “The same way,” she said and called out with her mind, Mithas, be ready!
The unseen threads of vayhatana surged, flinging them off the deck of the airship, and they fell. The elemental ring of the ship passed over their heads in a roaring blaze. Singe squeezed his eyes shut and screamed.
Then something grabbed them and held them steady in mid-air. Singe opened his eyes. He still clung to Dandra, Dandra still clung to him, Moon floated silently next to them, and the other airship was slowing to a stop just below. On her deck stood Mithas d’Deneith, a wand in his grasp pointing at them. He gestured with the wand, and they began to sink. Singe remembered the wand the sorcerer had displayed over Sharn and his boast that he could save Ashi from falling. He was pleased to see that for once Mithas hadn’t just been boasting.
Ashi and Natrac were on the deck as well and reached up for them as they descended. There was another person on the ship. Standing at the helm was a half-elf woman whose face had haunted Singe’s fevered dreams. He stared at her then looked at Dandra. “Vennet threw her overboard in Sharn!”
“I thought she was you and caught her with vayhatana,” Dandra said. “She’s Benti. Stealing the second airship was her suggestion. By the time we had her, your ship was out of sight. We guessed at where Dah’mir would be taking the kalashtar, but the Bonetree mound isn’t on any airship charts-we had to fly to Zarash’ak then follow the river north. We’re lucky Dah’mir was too busy fighting the orcs and chasing your ship to notice our approach.”
Singe barely heard her explanation. He blinked at Dandra. “Biish’s Benti?”
Her lips curved. “Not exactly.”
Then they were on the deck, and everyone was bustling around him and Moon. Dandra made him sit down. Natrac thrust a flask into his mouth, holding it there until Singe had drained the contents. The liquid inside was viciously bitter, but Singe felt the tingle of magical healing almost immediately. New strength flowed into his limbs, and while his belly remained empty, he thought like he could go another day before he needed a meal.
The potion didn’t bring his eye back-not that he had expected it would. It would take more magic than could be found in a potion to do that. Natrac glanced at the empty eye socket. “Vennet’s work?” he asked. Singe nodded. The half-orc grimaced and twisted his knife-hand so the long blade flashed. “Too bad you got to him before me,” he said.
A scarf fluttered down over Singe’s head. “Cover it up,” Mithas said in distaste.
Singe pulled the scarf from his face and looked up at the sorcerer. “You’re the last person I would have expected to come on a rescue mission.”
Mithas’s expression was sour. “I’m protecting my investment,” he said. “Ashi insisted on coming. She pointed out that our bargain was that she would let me take her to the lords of Deneith after everyone was safe. I didn’t realize she included you in that.”
“As long as you sell people out to advance yourself, Mithas, you’re not going to understand someone like Ashi.” Singe pushed himself to his feet and away from the sorcerer. “I want to see Moon.”
“That’s good,” said Ashi, stepping up to them. “He’s awake and he wants to see you.” She paid scant attention to Mithas.
Moon was crouched on the other side of the deck, knees drawn up to his chest and rocking back and forth. Dandra had put a blanket over his shoulders, but he kept shrugging it off. He looked up as Singe approached, and the wizard saw that there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. For the first time, he was seeing Moon alone, not Moon with Virikhad’s presence behind him.
The young kalashtar tried to rise, but Dandra held him down. Singe dropped to kneel beside him. He glanced at Dandra, his lips shaping a silent question-what did Moon want? She shrugged. Singe met Moon’s gaze. “You wanted to see me?” he asked.
“I wanted to say thank you. For not using the binding stone on me. You could have used it and trapped Virikhad, but you didn’t.” Moon swallowed. His face was pale and haunted. “I remember everything that happened. I remember what he did-” His voice caught.
“It’s not your fault, Moon,” said Dandra. “You’re safe now.”
“No!” Moon said sharply. Anger crossed his face. “I’m not safe. No one is safe. I still have a connection to him.” He struck a fist against his ear. “I can still hear the song!”
“What?” Dandra sat up straight.
Singe frowned. “Are you sure it’s not just something you remember?”
Moon nodded. “I don’t know how,” he said. “Maybe he was inside me for too long. Maybe he got too close to my mind. The song is still there. I can hear it. It connects us. I don’t think he knows about it-or if he does, he doesn’t care.” There was a tremble in his voice. “You know how he used his powers through me? I think I can still use them. When he and Medala took the others away, I knew how to follow them with my mind. I felt them bend space.” He took a deep breath. “I know where they are.”
“Where?” Singe asked.
The young kalashtar rose to his knees and pointed through the rail of the ship directly at the Bonetree mound. “There,” he said. “Under there. Deep under.”
Singe looked at Dandra. “Dah’mir said the kalashtar would wake in the presence of the Master of Silence. Do you think Medala and Virikhad are trying the same thing?”
She nodded, then asked him, “Do you think we still have a chance of stopping them?”
“You have to,” said Moon. He turned away from the rail and stared at them. “I’ve felt Virikhad’s mind. I know I wouldn’t want to be like that.” His voice broke. “Light of il-Yannah, I will do whatever it takes to make that song stop!”
The anger in him made Singe jerk back but Dandra reached out and took the young kalashtar’s hand. “Easy, Moon,” she said soothingly. “I’ve felt Medala’s mind, and I touched the killing song in Erimelk. I know I what you’re feeling. But I’ve also been in the tunnels under the mound. I don’t know if we’d be able to find them in time-and Dah’mir’s down there now too.”
Moon’s jaw tightened. “I can take you right to them. I can use Virikhad’s power against him.”
Dandra’s breath hissed between her teeth. “Are you certain? The long step isn’t something to use lightly.”