It was a difficult task. The slightest slip in concentration could cause the entire pattern to collapse, ruining days of work, yet Lei found that she was never as relaxed as when she was binding the forces of magic. Challenging as it was, it was clean and logical, and it was as natural to her as breathing. Her daily life, on the other hand, was chaotic and painful. Over the last few years, she’d seen battlefield horrors she’d never forget. She’d lost her parents, her home, and her birthright-everything that had given her life meaning. She’d lost the man who was to be her husband, though it wasn’t a match she’d asked for. Pierce and Daine were all she had left, and Daine … When she’d served with him in the war, things were simple. She was the heir to a dragonmark house, and despite his rank, he was just a soldier. A friend, certainly-but once the war was over, they would never see each other again. There was no point in thinking of anything beyond friendship; they belonged to different worlds, but now …
Something was wrong.
She pulled back from her trance and looked around. The old wine cellar was just as it had been a moment ago. The crystals were properly aligned on the table, and the silverwax candles were all alight.
“Dasei, what just happened?”
Dasei was Lei’s assistant. She was a homunculus-a magical construct given a semblance of life by Lei’s talents. While similar in principle to the warforged, the little wooden woman was not fully sentient. She could follow instructions, and her skills were invaluable when Daine’s crazy jobs took Lei from her work; enchanting was delicate work, and it was not something that could be left unattended. Despite her mystical talents, the homunculus lacked initiative or free will. She was a tool, not a person.
Dasei could not speak, but she could send her simple thoughts directly to Lei’s mind. Nothing changed. Paths prepared.
Lei frowned. She couldn’t explain the feeling. There was a feeling in the back of her mind, a thought she couldn’t quite catch hold of. Something had just happened, something bad, and if it wasn’t related to her work …
“Finish this binding. I’ll be back in a moment.” Lei had named the little creature after one of her more annoying cousins, and she always took a certain satisfaction in ordering the homunculus about.
Understood. Dasei climbed up onto the table and sat next to the wand, stabilizing the magical energies Lei had been working with.
Lei picked up her staff and made her way up the rickety stairs. The staff was formed of darkwood, jet black and stronger than oak. One end was carved in the image of a beautiful elf maiden, with long hair winding around the shaft. The staff was a gift from her deranged Uncle Jura and a mysterious sphinx. Considerable magical powers were bound within the wood, but Lei had been unable to determine the extent of its abilities or how to activate them. She was beginning to think that the staff itself was intelligent-that it was aware of its surroundings and acted only when it suited its own unknown goals. While she still had her doubts about the staff, it had served her well so far. Beyond its unknown powers, it was a strong and sturdy weapon, and it had saved her life on more than one occasion.
The stairway brought Lei out into the kitchen. She paused and listened intently. Though the initial chill had passed, the sense of unease was still with her-a lurking dread that she couldn’t explain. At first she heard nothing, but then she caught the faintest rustle, the barest sound of movement. She slowly moved toward the door, staff at the ready. When she was a child, her parents had arranged for her to be trained in the arts of stealth; her father had been determined to educate her in a broad range of skills, and while it had been a hard life, she silently thanked him for it now. Crouching low, she let one eye slide beyond the doorframe, peering into the large common room that lay beyond. A large humanoid figure was standing in the shadows by the fireplace, a flat object in one hand. As she watched, he reached up and made an adjustment, and the rustling came again.
It was Pierce, reading a book. He looked up as Lei entered the room. With a glance, he took in the staff in her hands and the tension in her walk.
“What is wrong?” he said, setting his book on the nearest table.
Lei studied the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. “I don’t know. Nerves, probably. Daine’s upstairs?” She felt like a fool, but the inexplicable feeling lingered at the back of her mind.
“I believe so. Do you require assistance?” He already had a hand on the haft of his flail. Born to war, Pierce was quick to react to any possible threat.
“No, no … I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll just go and check on him.”
Pierce released his flail and retrieved his book, a history of the kings of Galifar. If he’d been human, he would have shrugged. “As you wish.”
Lei sighed as she made her way up the stairs. She considered Pierce to be one of her closest friends, but somehow … things hadn’t been the same between them these past few months. When they’d first arrived in Sharn, Lei had been forced to fight Pierce and had almost destroyed him. She still had nightmares of that moment, of shredding his lifeforce with her touch; while he didn’t seem to harbor any ill will toward her, she still felt the guilt. There was something further-a dream she’d had in the wake of the battle. The memories were vague, but her parents had been there, with a handful of warforged-including Pierce. Was it a true vision of the past or pure delirium? The dream had left her with a strange sense of dread, of a terrible secret just out of reach. She knew she should ask Pierce about it, but somehow she couldn’t; it was as if the secret refused to be let loose.
Daine’s door was shut, and she rapped on it with her staff. “Daine?”
No answer.
She knocked again, louder. “Daine? Are you sleeping?”
She waited for the acerbic not now that would typically follow such a question, but she received only silence. Frowning, she tried the door. It was barred.
“Daine! Answer me!” She struck the door again. No response.
She closed her eyes and drew on the reserves of mystical energy bound within her green and gold jerkin. She visualized this power flowing into her right glove and quickly wove the glittering strands to form a charm of opening. Studying the door, she struck it with her hand; there was a brilliant flash and the door sprung open, the wooden bar clattering to the floor.
Daine was lying just inside the door, naked save for his breeches. The first thing Lei noticed was his awkward position; he’d fallen unexpectedly and hard. She dropped to her knees and put a hand on his back. His skin was still warm, and she could feel his breathing. She opened her mouth to call for Pierce, but then she saw the other body. Sprawled across the floor in the center of the room, this stranger was completely hidden beneath a dark hooded cloak. For a moment, Lei froze. She opened her mouth to call for Pierce-and a hand grasped her throat.
Lei had been trained in defense, but her eyes were on the intruder. The action was a blur; she was thrown off-balance, then an iron vise caught her neck and slammed her into the ground. A knee came down against her chest, driving the air from her lungs. As she struggled to draw breath, the face of her attacker came into focus: Daine, no sign of recognition in his wild eyes. She gasped, trying to speak, but she couldn’t form the words.
“Daine.” The voice was cool and clear, even over the sound of her beating heart. “Let it go. Come back from the darkness.”
There was a woman standing over Daine, a blurred phantom wrapped in the night. She placed a pale hand on the side of his head, and slowly the pressure eased on Lei’s neck. The madness faded from Daine’s eyes, and they focused on Lei’s face.
Recognition washed over him, and he leapt up, backing away from her. He gazed down at his hands, as if he didn’t know whom they belonged to. Lei drew a deep, ragged breath.