North. Northeast. Northwest. Pierce ran across the blasted ground, jerking to the left and right.
“Can you see it?” Lei said, hanging onto his neck.
“It is not that simple, my lady.” Pierce had no trouble speaking while he ran; his legs seemed to know where to go. “I just … know when to turn and how far I can go.”
East. North. East.
“‘My lady,’” Lei mused. “You haven’t called me that in months.”
“I have not,” Pierce said. “For a time … I thought it was demeaning.”
North. Northwest. North.
“What changed?”
What had changed? “I am not your servant. Daine is no longer my commander, but you are still my lady, and he is my captain. I know the meaning of these words, and I do not care what others think.”
He saw Lei smile in his peripheral vision. “Thank you, brother,” she said quietly. He felt a sense of satisfaction-the calm serenity that he usually could only find in the heat of battle.
West. North. Northwest. Pierce ran in silence, and Lei leaned against his shoulder.
We are within the perimeter of the wards. Your companion will be safe moving under her own power.
“It is safe now,” Pierce said, slowly setting Lei down on the ground.
“Does it talk to you?” Lei said, looking at the dragonshard gem gleaming on Pierce’s chest.
Pierce could feel Shira looking through his eyes, studying Lei. The mark on the back of her neck resembles an archaic form of the Draconic language. Ghostly fingers were sifting through his memories, drawing out facts and collating them with knowledge held within the orb. Dragonmarks. Sigils that convey mystical power. Hereditary.
“It is … present,” Pierce said.
Shira continued to draw connections in the back of Pierce’s mind. Lei grew up in isolation, surrounded by warforged. Her mark manifested at an unprecedented early age, in response to an injury suffered by a warforged companion. Her mark has not grown in size, but she has proven to be an artificer of exceptional skill.
“What do you mean? Is it listening to us right now?” Lei grinned. “Is it talking about me?”
An artificer of exceptional skill can duplicate the magical abilities granted by the Mark of Making. Therefore, there is no way to verify that she truly possesses the mark.
“It is aware of you,” Pierce said.
At last, the gate of Karul’tash stood before them. The base of the spire was taller than the trees of the jungle and easily hundreds of feet in diameter. The stone walls were deep red, polished to a reflective finish and completely smooth; there were no signs of wear or age. The gate itself was a block of obsidian, three times Pierce’s height and nearly as wide.
“What now?” Lei asked.
Guided by newfound instinct, Pierce stepped up to the door and slammed his hand against it, striking as hard as he could.
“Dak ru’sen Karul’tash. Hasken ul tul’kas.” The voice was deep and resonant, and Pierce could feel the vibration in his skin. It seemed to emanate from the door itself. You have come to Karul’tash. Provide words of passage.
Countermeasures will be activated unless the words are given quickly and in the proper voice. You must let me speak for you.
Pierce could feel Shira trying to form words, but she was still a passive presence. He hesitated. So far she had acted within him-but he had never allowed her to control him. If he let go … could she maintain control? Could she force his consciousness into the sphere?
There is no time. You must let me speak.
The temperature in the area was beginning to rise. Pierce let go, and Shira rushed in to fill the void.
“Talkos. Han’tal. Isk.” Pierce heard himself speak with a strange, alien voice, deep and rasping. “Archshaper Kastoruk has come to Karul’tash, bringing slaves and supplies. Open the gate and let fall the wards.”
As the echoes died away, Pierce felt Shira disappear into the shadows of his mind. His voice was his again. The gate melted, obsidian liquefying and flowing in to line the long dark corridor on the other side. For a split second, the invisible labyrinth flashed into view, a complex maze formed of walls of red energy-and slowly, the walls faded away.
“That was … strange,” Lei said. “Is it safe now?”
“Yes. Stay here, and I will signal Daine.” Pierce sprinted across the field, moving at his top speed. Traveling in a straight line, it took him less than twenty seconds to reach the middle of the field and catch the party’s attention. He waved, and they began to move across the field.
It was only then that he saw the movement to the east, just above the treeline.
A firesled heading for Karul’tash.
CHAPTER 49
Daine swore. Years ago he’d vowed never to use a bow, but if Pierce had left arrows, he would have broken the oath in an instant.
“Lakashtai, link us now!” he yelled as he sprinted forward, “and I want Shen’kar!”
Done.
You soil my soul with your thoughts, outlander! Shen’kar’s mental voice was filled with fury. Only the spirits may speak to me so!
THERE’S NO TIME FOR THIS! Daine roared, and Shen’kar faded to silence. Pierce! Catch! Pierce was still running toward him, and Daine flung the longbow at the warforged with every ounce of strength he could muster. Pierce leapt up and caught the whirling weapon, and by the time he had landed he had an arrow to the string.
Back to the monolith! Daine commanded. Drop the staff-wielder if you get a clear shot, but we need to get the wards back up. The others can’t be far away!
The firesled was closing on the monolith. Daine was running at full speed, but he was still far from the crimson tower.
Lei! Take cover!
Her thoughts are not linked to ours, Daine. Lakashtai’s thoughts were calm and cool. The power has a limited range, and she is still too far.
A ball of flame engulfed the gate of the spire. When the smoke cleared, Daine could see no sign of Lei. She’s no fool, Daine thought. She must have gone inside.
They come, Shen’kar thought.
The edge of the jungle was alive with fire. Dozens of Sulatar soldiers were emerging from the treeline, carrying burning banners and flaming spears.
Run! Daine said. We can’t engage them in the open. We need to reach the gates!
Uul’she and Kulikoor will slow the advance, Shen’kar thought, and I shall show them the danger mocking the clouds.
Slow the … Shen’kar, that’s suicide. Call them back!
It is already done. It is the right of the warrior to choose his death.
“Elves,” Daine muttered, but he thought of the battles he’d fought, and the courage of two soldiers who would face an army. Good luck. To all of you.
A second blast of flame burst against the gate of the monolith. Shen’kar sang a soft invocation and then pulled away from Daine, racing forward with inhuman speed. He was a ghostly blur in the fading light of dusk. Moments later he had reached the gates, and without pausing he vaulted into the air, rising in an astonishing thirty-foot arc. He slammed into the side of the sled and pulled himself aboard. The bombardier raised her hand, and Shen’kar was engulfed in a cone of fire. Even as Daine cried out, the fire faded-and Shen’kar was unhurt.