The young knight’s eyes locked on a shaft of light filtering into the stables through a thin hole between two boards. In his mind, the soft glow transformed into a silvery flame that beckoned him forward. He struggled to creep toward it as his vision darkened, closing into a tunnel focused on that burning light.
Silver Flame, he prayed with his final thought, may you consume my soul with your light.
Then all went black.
27
“So Brendis isn’t joining us for dinner?” Esprë said as Kandler emerged into the hallway from the men’s quarters.
Kandler shook his head at the young elf, who didn’t do much of a job of hiding her disappointment. He was still so happy to see her that he didn’t mind a bit. He just put his hand on her back and guided her across the fort’s open yard toward the private dining room of the Captain of Bones.
“The trip here was hard,” he said. “Not everyone’s suited for riding a glidewing. Monja thinks he’s a bit sunsick too.”
“There’s also that knock he took when he banged his head in the stables,” said Sallah.
With the dust of the flight and the Mournland washed away, she looked more amazing than ever, Kandler noticed. Her skin had a fresh glow to it that he had never seen on her before. It seemed more than just being clean. She looked younger too. Perhaps the relief of catching up with Esprë had erased some of the worry from her face.
“Hurt his head less than his pride,” said Burch.
The shifter hadn’t bothered with cleaning up. While the others enjoyed their baths, he’d wandered around the fort, getting the lay of the land. He hadn’t found much unusual about the place, outside of the skeletons.
“Airship almost looks ready to go,” he’d said to Kandler, pointing at the battered craft in the middle of the yard as they walked past it.
Xalt nodded, his exterior plates polished and buffed to a shine. He had found a lanyard and threaded it through the end of his amputated finger. As it rested on his chest, it gleamed in the light as well, and Kandler guessed that if he didn’t know better he might think it was an artful piece of warforged jewelry instead of a missing digit.
“The way its ring of fire burns so bright, it seems as if the elemental inside knows how close it came to freedom,” Xalt said. “If those restraining arcs ever do give out, the creature is sure to leave a wide trail of scorched earth behind it as it speeds away.”
Monja noticed Esprë staring at Xalt’s finger necklace and slipped an arm around the young elf’s shoulders. Esprë stood a full head taller than the halfling, but she leaned into the embrace with relish.
“He finally let me look at it,” the shaman said. “It’s a clean cut, but it’s beyond my power to reattach it. Things like that take mighty prayers from those who call the gods old friends.”
“When we get to Flamekeep, the clerics there should be able to help,” Sallah said to Xalt. “Jaela Daran herself may choose to intercede on behalf of a hero such as you.”
“Are we going to Thrane?” Esprë asked Kandler, concern etched on her face. “I thought we might go back to Sharn.”
Kandler nodded. “Me too, but we can’t go back through the Mournland again. It’s too dangerous.”
“Every warforged in the land will be looking for us,” Burch said.
“Better to go north and over the Mournland and then down through Thrane to Breland,” Kandler said. “We can even stop in Mardakine if we like.”
“You would be welcome to pass through the plains again,” Monja said. “I would even travel with you until you reach Valenar.”
“The elf-land’s not the problem,” said Burch. “It’s getting through all the goblins in Darguun.”
“Right,” said Kandler. “We could make for the Thunder Sea and sail up the Dagger River, but that’s a long way around.”
“Can’t you just fly over it?” asked Monja, stabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the airship.
“That,” said Kandler, “is one of the first things we need to talk to the captain about.”
“Well,” Berre said, opening the door to the dining room as Kandler and the others approached, “we are bound to have an interesting conversation tonight then. In the interests of better digestion, though, I suggest we save such details until after the main course.”
Kandler acquiesced to the captain’s request. He didn’t worry about offending her. Most dwarfs were too pragmatic to be bothered by direct talk, but she did have a small army of well-armed skeletons, along with a few well-trained soldiers of the breathing sort, all around them. He could afford to be patient for now.
The meal was simple but tasty, served family-style out of common dishes in the center of the table. It featured more of the typical dark and bitter Karrnathi spices than the justicar preferred, but the sweet, blood-red wine that accompanied it washed it down well.
Kandler noticed that Burch, ever suspicious, refused to eat anything until he saw Berre sample it first. The others weren’t so concerned. Sallah ate but without relish. Since Xalt couldn’t eat, he didn’t bother with the meal at all, although he took part in the small bits of conversation between the others’ mouthfuls. The petite Monja devoured everything put in front of her with the appetite of someone four times her size.
A group of six Karrnathi skeletons waited on the table as attentively as any living servants. They moved according to Berre’s exacting orders, performing their duties to the letter and then returning to their corners once again.
Kandler couldn’t help but notice that the bony waiters wore their blades and armor still, and that they outnumbered the guests. He knew that with the barest word from their captain they would attack.
“So,” Berre said, as the undead waiters cleared the plates away and topped off each diner’s goblet of wine, “let us speak of what is to come.”
Kandler gazed into the dwarf’s dark brown eyes for a minute before he spoke. She had done him many a good turn already today, including reuniting him with Esprë. He knew that he owed her something, and he feared that now the bill would come due.
“Now that we’ve found Esprë,” he said, “Burch and I plan to take her back with us to Sharn. Sallah and Brendis have offered to put us up in Flamekeep for a while on our way.”
“So your route will take you north of here through Karrnath before turning south into Thrane? Excellent.” An easy smile spread across Berre’s lips. “If you will permit me, I will accompany you as far as Korth. If I do not miss my guess, the king himself will long to hear your tale and to entertain such illustrious guests.”
Sallah started to speak, but Kandler cut her off with a curt wave. “We wouldn’t want to bother your king,” he said. “We just want to get Esprë home.” He glanced at her and saw concern furrow her brow. “I think she’s been through enough without … She’s been through enough.”
“I understand how you feel,” Berre said, “but I’d be delinquent in my duties if I didn’t bring such a unique person as Esprë to the attention of King Kaius. I just know he’d find the particulars fascinating.”
Kandler looked at Esprë, a sick feeling in his stomach. “She’s just a child,” he said, “my child.”
“You are her stepfather, correct?”
Kandler didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. “I’m all she has in the world.”
Berre’s face turned grim. “I respect that. I would never dream of separating the two of you again, but she must go to Korth. I have been in contact with my superiors in Kaius’s court. My orders are clear.”
“And if we try to leave?” Kandler felt his anger rising into his throat as he readjusted himself in his chair.