“Dead,” she said in amazement.
“No,” said a voice from above. Geth turned toward it. The young kalashtar man who had appeared with Singe and Dandra was on his feet, unsteady but supported by Ashi. Their right and left hands were bound together, the amulet of Vvaraak dangling from them. Ashi’s face was pale. The young man’s eyes looked like he had seen something terrible. His mouth twitched. “Free.”
CHAPTER 26
Then Dah’mir was actually right?” Geth asked. “Something was wrong and they did wake too quickly?”
Dandra shook her head, her black hair shimmering in the pale light of one of the Gatekeepers’ reed torches. “I don’t know. Maybe there was something in Medala and Virikhad’s control that brought the kalashtar minds back before they had the strength to hold onto them. Maybe Ekhaas’s countersong eased their madness to the point that when the song ended, they were able to let themselves die. Maybe Dah’mir simply didn’t understand how the bracers would interact with Taruuzh’s binding stones.”
“Dah’mir knew what he was doing,” Singe said grimly. “We should be thankful Medala and Virikhad tried to take control. The bracers worked.” His jaw tightened. “I felt them work.”
Dandra’s hand reached over and took Singe’s hand as they walked. She didn’t say anything and neither did the wizard.
Geth looked away from them and up the tunnel ahead. Beyond the darkness, there was a patch of brightness-the mouth of the mound and the gray light that came before dawn. He felt an urge to race ahead and throw himself out into clean air beneath open skies.
They’d stayed in the seal cavern no longer than they had to, but they’d still been there longer than he would have liked. Batul had reclaimed the amulet of Vvaraak and the weary Gatekeepers had done what they’d entered the mound to do: reinforce the magic that bound the Master of Silence. No one had asked if Singe’s trick with the binding stone had destroyed the daelkyr. Geth was certain that if the Master of Silence was dead, they’d know.
The binding stones that had been in the bracers worn by the kidnapped kalashtar had been crushed and mixed into new mortar for the seal, just as the ancient druids had crushed Taruuzh’s stones after the long ago Battle of Moths. Singe had stripped the kalashtar’s psicrystals out of the bracers. Moon carried them now in a pouch that he bore with silent solemnity. There had been some debate over what to do with the remains of the kalashtar and of the Gatekeepers who had fallen under Medala’s attack. No one wanted to leave them in a place tainted by Xoriat, but no one had the strength to carry them back to the surface.
Dandra had tapped into the last reserves of her psionic power and called up the droning chorus of whitefire. The bodies of the victims and heroes of Dah’mir’s schemes burned in flames so tightly controlled that it hurt to look at the them, but that spread no heat beyond their confines. Ekhaas had stood over them and sung a dirge that soared louder than even the killing song had.
Medala’s body and Dah’mir’s had received no such respect. They left them where they had fallen, though each of the Gatekeepers had solemnly taken a trophy from Dah’mir’s body-a sliver of the Khyber shard that had been in the dragon’s chest and that Wrath had shattered. After a moment, Singe had knelt and taken two of the slivers as well, passing one to Dandra. She’d accepted it in silence. Ekhaas had taken a sliver too, then Ashi and even Moon.
Geth had been the last to take one of the blue-black fragments. He’d squatted down by Dah’mir’s head and looked into the staring, acid-green eyes, but he hadn’t even been able to think of anything to say. He just felt … empty.
The walk back up through the tunnels from the seal cavern had been eerily silent. There was no sign of the dolgrims. Not a claw in the shadows, not a mutter in the darkness. Partway up, words had finally come to Geth, and he’d begun talking to fill the silence. Singe had joined in and soon they were all talking, describing in hushed tones what had happened on the Shadow Marches, in Sharn, through the days since they’d seen one another last. It was a strangely familiar feeling, one Geth remembered from long-ago mercenary days-walking away from a battle, voices low, working through the bloody chaos of what had just happened. Sometimes victory took time to sink in.
Sometimes it just needed another person’s excitement to tip it over the edge. A form moved against the bright mouth of the mound as they approached it and a shout rang out. Geth heard the words through Wrath, but he would have known the emotion in any language. “They’re alive!”
They emerged from the mound to a roar that shook the moons in the sky. Hands seized the Gatekeepers as soon as they emerged and hauled them away into a crowd of jubilant orcs. News of the defeat of Dah’mir, Medala, and the Master of Silence leaped like fire through the horde and another roar rose up.
“Singe! Dandra! Geth!” Orshok and Natrac burst out of the crowd. Natrac looked like he’d shed half his years. Orshok flung himself at Geth and threw both arms around him.
The enthusiastic embrace sent pain lancing through Geth’s still injured side and arm, but it was no match for the exhilaration that finally surged in him. Geth howled into Orshok’s face and crushed him back.
It took some time before they made it out of the horde and Natrac led them to where the airship floated, a rope ladder dangling over her side and down to the ground. As they approached, two figures rose to meet them. Singe felt his stomach knot at the sight of one of them. Geth, one arm still over Orshok’s shoulders, bared his teeth. “Mithas, you slimy toadstool.”
The sorcerer stood firm. “I have a debt to collect.”
A growl grew out of Geth’s throat. “The only thing you’re going to collect is bruises. Why don’t you just start running for Sharn now?”
“Geth.” Ashi put a dragonmarked hand on the shifter’s arm. She turned to face Mithas. “It’s over. Anyone who could be safe is. You kept your word. I keep mine.” She stood straight. “Take me to the lords of Deneith.”
Singe groaned. “Ashi …”
The hunter shook her head. “It’s my honor, Singe. And Deneith is my clan.” She looked around at the mound and the fading remains of the Bonetree camp and touched the sword at her side. “It’s time for me to learn more about them.”
The smile of greed that spread across Mithas’s face would have shamed a miser. He sneered at Singe and Geth, then grabbed for the rope ladder and climbed up toward the airship.
The half-elf woman who had risen with him waited until he was about halfway up and began casually shaking the ladder. Mithas yelped and cursed as he swayed back and forth, but she didn’t relent and he climbed the rest of the way at a timid pace. Natrac gave her a thin smile. “I like you more every time I see you, Benti. That’s not something I’d often say about a king’s agent.”
Singe saw Geth’s eyebrows rose high in surprise, but he doubted that it could be any greater than the surprise he felt himself. A king’s agent? He looked at Natrac, then at Dandra. “There’s something you didn’t tell us,” he said.
Natrac held out his hand, gesturing in introduction. “Singe, Geth, meet Benti Morren, as she chooses to be known-agent of the King’s Citadel of Breland.” His smile filled out as Singe and Geth gaped in amazement. “I wondered when she helped me escape from Biish if she was more than she seemed to be. After Dandra saved her, she was a little more open with information.”
Benti bent her head in response to their stares. “The Citadel has had its eye on Biish’s gang for some time. When word circulated that he was looking for someone with the Mark of Storm, the Citadel used the opportunity to put me in place within the gang.” Her lips curved very slightly. “I don’t think they expected this. My report should be received with interest.”