“I don’t see any signs of violence,” Daine continued, “They’re just … dead.” He had sword and dagger out and ready; the massive corpses raised his hackles, and it was all too easy to imagine that the withered faces were watching them pass.
“The battle they fought came to an end centuries before the final fall of Xen’drik,” Pierce said. “These magi were battling dreams and tampering with the boundaries of the planes themselves. It is dangerous to tamper with reality: I believe that they paid the price, and that those giants who survived the war wisely chose to leave this place as a tomb.”
Lakashtai glanced back at Pierce for a moment. “You seem to know a great deal about the conflict, Pierce. Do you know what was built here?”
“No. My … memories do not extend to the end of the war. I only know of its purpose: a forge to build a weapon to end the war stretching across the dimensions.”
“Let us hope that it did,” Lakashtai said, “and perhaps we’re about to find out.”
The hallway came to an end at a wide archway. A guard lay across the passage; he was wearing a coat of crimson chainmail, and each link was the size of Daine’s hand. An obsidian greatsword lay on the ground next to him, over ten feet in length. Lakashtai leapt over the corpse without even touching it; her strength had returned, and she seemed more alive than she had since they’d left Sharn. Daine wasn’t feeling so spry; he simply ground his teeth and climbed up over the giant’s chest.
The room beyond the arch was smaller than the chamber of gates, but it was no less spectacular. The walls were studded with translucent spheres, ranging from the size of a man’s head to a vast orb that was at least eight feet across. For a moment, Daine thought they were made out of glass, but as he drew closer he realized that they were far too fragile. They were soap-bubbles formed from traces of light, glowing with the faint essence of a dying coal. He almost reached out to touch one, but reason and the memory of eerily untouched corpses triumphed over curiosity.
“What are they?” Lei whispered.
“Dreams,” Pierce and Lakashtai answered together. They glanced at each other, and Pierce inclined his head.
“The purest essence of dreams,” Lakashtai continued. “Every living creature that sleeps has a bond to Dal Quor, and obviously this is a vulnerability to those who would fight the lords of the night. I wonder …” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Could they have been trying to create dreams? To forge an alternate realm, a refuge they could retreat to in the dark hours?”
“Can you hear them?” Lei said. Her voice was sluggish, almost slurred, and Daine turned toward her. Lei’s eyes were distant and confused. “So many voices …”
“Lakashtai?” Daine said, but the kalashtar was already by Lei’s side.
“Hear only my voice,” she whispered. “Set all else aside. Nothing here is real, all is illusion. Hear only my voice and let it return you to the light.”
Lei closed her eyes, her forehead twisting with the effort of thought. Daine and Pierce rushed forward, but Lakashtai held them back with a commanding gesture. The kalashtar leaned in, whispering in Lei’s ear. Her eyes flashed with light, and Lei convulsed for a moment; then she opened her eyes again, breathing deeply. Lakashtai squeezed Lei’s shoulder and stepped back toward Daine.
“She will recover,” Lakashtai said, “but her affinity for this place and the magic of this era is most unusual. Give her a moment of peace.”
Daine glanced over at Lei. “I’m … fine,” she said. She was pale, but she seemed to have regained her composure.
He returned to the study of the room. The fragile spheres covered the walls and ceiling. The center of the chamber was dominated by a dais of opalescent glass-reflective, pale white material lit from within, slowly shifting in color as Daine watched. This altar was ten feet long and six feet high, and two giants were sprawled around it. Standing across the room, they could see that there was something on top of the dais-pieces of broken glass, perhaps a shattered sphere. Whatever it was, it was dull and lifeless, a stark contrast to the gleaming platform.
“There …” Lakashtai breathed. “That is what we have sought. Help Lei climb onto the platform-the end of this quest is at hand.”
Lei still seemed slightly dazed, but she held Daine’s hand and clambered up onto the table when Daine and Pierce hoisted her up. Lakashtai leapt up beside her.
“Touch the shards, Lei,” she said. “Feel the pattern within. Reshape what has been broken.”
“What is it?” Daine said, standing on his toes and trying to peer up over the edge.
“It is the reason I came here, though even I did not believe it possible,” Lakashtai said, walking over to stand above Daine.
“You see-”
Then she screamed.
There was a distortion in the air around her chest, as if a fist-sized chunk of flesh was being twisted out of phase with the rest of her body. The aura faded, and Lakashtai dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.
“Surely you will not fall so easily, little sister.” The voice echoed through the hall. “After all you have put me through, I expected more of a challenge.”
It was Tashana.
CHAPTER 51
Green eyes burned beneath the hood of a dark cloak, and a long braid of silver-white hair caught the light. Shadows were swirling about Tashana, and for a moment Daine thought he saw faces howling in the darkness.
“You have been most helpful,” she said. “I would never have found this place on my own. You shielded your mind well; I thought I had lost you until you reappeared only moments ago, but this chase ends here, in this chamber of broken dreams.”
“Just how does it end?” Daine said, walking slowly toward her. He motioned to Pierce-keep your distance, engage at range.
“This is no battle for humans,” Tashana hissed, dismissing Daine with a gesture.
He felt her mental grip tighten on his mind, but this time, he didn’t give in. He tightened his grip on his grandfather’s sword, and for the merest moment he felt the old man at his shoulder.
“Perhaps you underestimate humans,” he said, setting himself on guard. Behind him, he could hear Lakashtai talking to Lei, guiding her work. “One chance, and one alone. Leave. Now.”
The shadows were winding around Tashana, forming the ghastly silhouette he’d seen before. “Fool!” she roared, her voice distorted by the darkness. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?”
“Stopping you. Pierce!”
Pierce’s bow sang, and two arrows flashed toward Tashana’s chest, but this time she had prepared for such an attack-or else her powers had grown since they’d seen her on the docks of Sharn. The cloak of shadows was far more solid than it appeared, and the arrows shattered against this shield.
Daine wasn’t surprised; it was Pierce who had driven this creature off the last time they’d fought, and it seemed unlikely that she’d attack so brazenly without having a defense. If they were to win this battle, he needed to know the rules of engagement. He leapt at the dark figure, feinting with his long blade. As she swatted at his sword with talons of shadow, he switched his footing, ducking under and striking with his dagger.
The adamantine blade could carve through steel and stone, and Daine had never found the substance that could match it-until now. His thrust was perfect, but the blade was thrown back, and his wrist ached from the impact.
Pain. Tashana’s claws raked along his left arm before he had time to retreat, and the shadows carved through steel and muscle with equal ease. Whispers of fear and doubt crawled into the back of his mind-how could he hope to succeed? Why fight, when it was so much easier to just surrender, to let fate take its course?
No. Daine’s grandfather was still behind him, and now he felt Jode’s presence with him as well. He could hear his friend’s laughter, and his zest for life, and it banished the cold fingers of fright. When Tashana came in to strike again, Daine ducked to the side and slashed with his longsword. The shadow parted like smoke, and Daine felt the faintest touch to the flesh within.