A figure stepped out from behind the burning wreckage, moving forward into the light. Her cloak was woven of pure shadow, and green eyes gleamed beneath the deep hood.
“Lakashtai?” Daine said. He raised his crystal blade into guard position, warily waiting for the woman to make her next move.
The stranger laughed, musical notes scattered across the dark wind. “Not quite, but you might say that we’re sisters.” She tossed back her head, and her hood fell back from her face. Like Lakashtai, her delicate features had an inhuman perfection, as if crafted by an artist who sought beauty with no sense of realism or compassion, but her skin was even paler than that of Lakashtai. Her hair was pure white, bound into a thick braid and wound about her neck; it seemed to glow with an inner light. “I am Tashana, little Daine, and your mind is mine to do with as I will.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She wasn’t armed, but her confidence suggested unseen powers, and Daine wasn’t about to take chances. He walked forward slowly, ready to launch into a swift lunge as soon as he was close enough. Glass or not, he should be able to pierce her skin.
“So we shall.”
The pale woman raised a hand. Tendrils of shadow rose from the pool and twined around her arm. The darkness flowed along her skin, and in seconds she was encased in a shield of shadows.
Daine shivered. There was something deeply wrong with this situation, and he felt the fear that only comes in a nightmare-the certain knowledge that as bad as things were, they could get even worse in the blink of an eye, with no limits on what terrors could appear. He fought the urge to turn and flee, running back to the safety of the camp, but he forced himself to seize hold of his emotions, to quiet his fears and hold his ground. If this was only a dream, nothing could truly harm him here.
“It’s not only a dream.”
Even as she spoke, the mists surrounding the woman rippled and reformed, creating a monstrous silhouette. Two muscular arms were tipped with massive pincers, and a dozen smaller tendrils writhed around the headless torso. There were no clear legs on the shadowform, just a long, powerful tail tipped with a fearsome stinger.
Daine had seen worse sights in the Mournland, but the lingering fears remained. Though he tried to silence his doubts, he could feel his heart racing.
I’m dreaming. None of this is real, not even my fear.
He brought his blade into the fourth guard position, presenting his right side and placing the point between him and the creature. Pushing away his doubts, he studied the monster. As disturbing as it was, it was a thing of mist and shadow; he could almost see the woman within. It’s a trick, some sort of magic-a disguise, nothing more.
“Allow me to prove otherwise.”
The shadowbeast charged forward. A huge pincer lanced out to crush Daine’s head, but he slid to one knee, dropping beneath the blow as he slashed up with his sword.
It was a perfect stroke and would have crippled a creature of flesh and blood, but this was like striking the wind, and the blade passed through the dark form with no effect whatsoever. For a moment, Daine let his guard drop. It’s just a shadow, after all. Then the creature caught him with a backhanded blow. The pincer slammed into his chest with the force of a sledgehammer, throwing him backwards and onto the ground. He rolled to the side just in time to keep the dark stinger from piercing his heart; instead it caught the edge of his chest, tugging against his chainmail.
Rising to his feet, he did his best to dodge the lashing claws. For a few moments he spun around the monstrosity, backing away and fighting to stay a step ahead of the dark horror. It can hit me. I can’t hurt it. A memory was lingering on the edge of his thoughts, and even as he ducked beneath another blow, it came to him: Pierce’s flail passing harmlessly through the insect swarm. Perhaps physical force wasn’t the answer. Heat might not hurt this thing, but light just might.
As the creature swung at him again, Daine stepped to the side and dove forward, rolling beneath the blow and toward the wreckage of the stormship. Dropping his useless sword, he grabbed a chunk of burning wood from the ground.
He flung the spar with all of his might, aiming directly at the creature’s chest-right where he guessed the woman’s head would be, if she was in fact within the shadowy form. Even as the makeshift torch left his hand, the dark shape shifted, becoming ever more solid; for a moment, the mist became pure obsidian, thick and hard as stone. The wood shattered into a thousand sparks.
The beast shook with laughter, even as it resumed its shadowy state. “You can’t win this, Daine,” she said, her voice a howling wind. “You cannot begin to comprehend my power. I am the darkness.”
“Scary. Scarier if you were just a little bit faster.” Despite his bravado, Daine was still fighting the fear that clenched at his stomach and cried in the back of his mind.
“My physical strength is the least of your worries. There are greater weapons at my disposal.”
She raised her massive arms, and the ground around Daine erupted in motion. Across the battlefield, corpses were moving: maimed human and broken warforged, all of the fallen were rising to their feet, forming a living wall around Daine.
“Now would be a really good time to wake up,” Daine muttered.
He set his back against the keel of the stormship and grabbed another broken spar. He could see familiar faces among the shuffling masses: Lynna carried the morningstar that had shattered her chest, and Cadrian staggered forward despite his broken face. Daine took his guard position and prepared for the first onslaught …
And then came the light.
A brilliant luminescence flowed over the field, and the lurching corpses paused to shield their eyes-even those with no eyes left to shield. A glowing figure stepped out of the wreckage next to Daine, a woman wrapped in a hooded cloak that shone with the brilliance of the sun.
“Let him go, Tashana.” It was Lakashtai.
Laughter. “You’re a fool to come here, child of Kashtai-as great a fool as your ancient mother. We claim this man and his dreams. Leave now, and you can earn a few more days of life.”
“He will not stand alone.”
The nimbus of light surrounding Lakashtai intensified, and the shadowy figure seemed to wilt in the glow. But even as the monster cringed, tendrils rose from the dark pool, flooding into the beast and restoring its strength. In moments, it was even larger then before-and the aura of light was beginning to fade.
“Then fall together.”
A vast wave of darkness rippled forward from the shadowy figure. It slammed into Daine, enveloping him in cold and silence, and he knew no more.
CHAPTER 3
Lei was working on a wand.
She had a gift for weaving enchantments, creating magical tools to serve the needs of the moment, but these magical infusions were temporary, and the power would quickly fade if it wasn’t used. Binding a permanent enchantment into an object was a more difficult task, and one that could take days. The wand itself was a short stick of livewood-an unusual form of lumber that still held the spark of life even after it was severed from its tree. Lei was weaving a healing enchantment, and the livewood was ideally suited to holding this power. For the last few days she had been preparing the wand, bathing it in a series of alchemical liquids and planting the initial paths into the wood. Now it was time to bind it all together. Holding her hands over the livewood, she reached out with her mind. The world receded until all her senses were focused on the wand and the patterns of mystical energy around it. Slowly, painstakingly, she began to pull at these glittering threads, weaving a web of power that would let her channel the lifeforce of the living wood to heal the wounds of another.