Out on the cavern floor, Medala’s other hand rose as Dah’mir landed and frost howled like a slice carved from a mountain blizzard. This time Dah’mir didn’t dodge her attack but barreled ahead. Frost covered his chest as it expanded in a deep breath and rimed his muzzle as it thrust forward.
Acid burst from between his jaws, yellow-green and foul.
Medala stumbled back, but the song of the katalarash strengthened, and her head came up again. She brought her hands together and thrust outward, the heels of her palms joined and her fingers spread as if she were trying to shield herself.
The gout of acid vanished into a flare of brilliant light that sent Dah’mir springing back. A few stray drops hissed down on Medala’s clothes and those of the singing katalarash, leaving smoking holes but nothing worse. Dah’mir ended up high on the wall over head, clinging to the stone, while he and Medala glared at each other once more. The thin cheering of the Master of Silence’s creatures penetrated the lens of the seal.
Yet the katalarash didn’t move. The song didn’t waver.
Geth stared at them and bared his teeth as a thought occurred to him. “Ekhaas, you’ve been in battles. Have you ever seen a unit take a charge like that without even flinching?”
The hobgobin’s ears flicked. Eyes that had been watching everything with unblinking intensity narrowed. “No,” she said. “Even duur’kala warsingers would have fallen back.”
“That’s what I thought,” Geth growled. “Grandfather Rat’s naked tail-kalashtar or katalarash, I think Medala’s controlling them just like she did the horde. If we could break that control, Dah’mir might have a chance at taking her down.” He looked at Ekhaas. “Do you think that countersong you were working on might work?”
Her ears stood up tall. “Khaavolaar! Have you gone as mad as Medala? Once Dah’mir finishes her, he’ll still be strong and we’ll have to face him!”
“What’s our choice?” Geth demanded. “We can’t hide here forever and we can’t face both-”
There was a scuffling on a ledge above. Geth spun, gauntlet up and sword out, but it wasn’t some new threat, only the Gatekeepers scuttling down like monkeys, staying low and moving as quickly as they could. Batul flung himself flat on the ledge and leaned out to get closer to Geth. “Dandra’s in my head!” he said. “Singe has a plan. He says you need to be ready to attack Dah’mir.”
Geth choked. “Rat! That’s crazy-” He caught Medala’s glare and choked off the word. Crazy as Singe or mad as Medala, they needed to make a move. He twisted around and looked for the wizard and the kalashtar. He found them creeping down the ledges at the far end of the cavern, getting closer to floor level. “What am I waiting for?” he asked tightly.
“They’re going to try and weaken Dah’mir. We have a part in it too. Dandra’s says that if this works, you’ll know when to strike. If you can take him down, they’ll strike at Medala.”
Geth’s mouth twitched and a smile broke across it. A rush of energy filled his belly. “They’re going to weaken Dah’mir,” he repeated, then glanced at Ekhaas. She looked back at him, her ears twitching, and slowly nodded. Geth looked back at Batul. “Tell Dandra we can weaken Medala for them.”
The old Gatekeeper’s eye twitched as he relayed the message back to Dandra, then blinked. “Singe says there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“They’re going to need a distraction.”
CHAPTER 25
Dandra released her hold on the kesh. “They’re ready.”
Singe looked at her. “Are you ready?”
She drew a deep breath and glanced up at Dah’mir. The dragon still clung high on the wall of the cavern, his eyes on Medala. The gaunt kalashtar-or katalarash or whatever she wanted to call herself-still stood with the captives from Sharn behind. Dandra tightened her grip on her spear and nodded.
“Good,” said Singe. “Then let’s hope we don’t have to wait too long.”
She could feel her heart beating. It seemed loud in the cavern, even with the soft murmur of the killing song-ready to swell again in an instant-and the excited buzz of the Master of Silence’s creatures as they pressed close to their side of the lens, eager for another flurry of strikes between Dah’mir and Medala. She wondered where the daelkyr’s throne room really was. Before the lens had formed in the seal, the tunnel beyond had looked empty and long. The throne room could be deep, deep below them, far down in the dark reaches of Khyber. Batul had assured her it didn’t matter, that what Singe had proposed would work.
At least in theory, and theory was better than nothing.
She drew another breath, holding herself ready.
Geth burst from cover with a bound and a shout, tearing across the cavern floor. The shifter ran a weaving pattern, back and forth. Dandra saw Medala’s face turn to follow him and prayed that she wasn’t ready with a psionic power to throw against him. It was tempting to look up and see what Dah’mir’s reaction was, but she didn’t dare. She kept her attention fixed on the lens and on the Master of Silence. The daelkyr’s eyes, at least, followed Geth.
“Good,” Singe breathed. “Good. That’s far enough …”
The moment Geth reached the midway point of the cavern floor, Batul and the Gatekeepers stood up on the ledge where they had been hiding, and their old voices rose in a chant. Their faces were intent, and the words they spoke so low that even knowing what they were doing, Dandra could barely hear them. Medala’s head didn’t turn. The Master of Silence’s eyes didn’t leave Geth. There was a cry from above though. Dah’mir had seen the druids! Dandra’s teeth clenched down. Eyes on the daelkyr, she told herself, eyes on the daelkyr!
Dah’mir’s cry turned both Medala and the Master of Silence toward the Gatekeepers. Batul’s face grew taut. He thrust out his hunda stick and the chant broke into a shout. Geth dived for shelter. Dandra held her breath and gathered her will.
A shimmer passed over the lens in the seal. The black lightning that crawled across it pulled suddenly to the edges and stayed there.
And one of the dolgrims who must have been especially close to the other side of the lens stumbled and fell through into the cavern with a dazed yelp.
“It’s open!” shouted Singe. “Now, Dandra!”
The seal would only be open for an instant. The druids couldn’t-wouldn’t-leave it open any longer. Their voices were already strained. An instant, though, was long enough. Singe tossed the binding stone into the air. Dandra focused her will on it, caught it with vayhatana-and flung it straight at the Master of Silence’s stunned face.
The blue-black dragonshard flew as hard and true as a stone flung from a sling, flying through the lens and the open seal with barely a ripple. The druid’s voices fell silent and they stumbled back. The lens flickered again as the seal closed once more.
But the Master of Silence’s eyes flicked as well. The binding stone came to a stop an armslength before him.
“Light of il-Yannah,” Dandra whispered. Singe’s expression fell in shock. On the cavern wall, Dah’mir laughed. His roar shook the cavern.
“Who would stand against the Master of Silence?”
Beyond the lens, the creatures in the daelkyr’s throne room had drawn back from their lord and from the binding stone. Dandra was certain that even if they didn’t know what it was, they could sense just as she could what it would do to any psionic creature who touched it. The Master of Silence, however, leaned forward slightly, studying the stone. Dandra saw it flash darkly as some power like vayhatana rotated it so the daelkyr could see all sides. After a moment, he sat back.
One of the stones of Taruuzh. I remember the night that the Gatekeepers rained these down upon my armies at the Battle of Moths. He looked out through the lens, and his eyes settled on Dandra. A sensation of great presence, similar to what she felt when she faced Dah’mir but even more intense, washed over her, held back only by the protection of Ashi’s dragonmark. Not an attack, Dandra realized, but only the unnatural effect of the Master of Silence’s simple attention. She forced herself to stand straight, to meet the daelkyr’s gaze.