The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (18 page)

For Xu’sasar, the night held no fear. Outlanders feared the darkness, but Xu’sasar had to be taught to recognize the shadows. The night was her dominion, her time to stalk and hunt. Given the choice, she would be dancing through the deepest, darkest woods of the final lands, searching for the most fearsome threats that the realm had to offer.

But the choice wasn’t hers.

“Not my place to say, I’m sure,” Huwen had said. “But if I was a creature what walked on my legs, I’d take the path, you see? You might be running into something coming the other way, yes, but there’s far worse in the deep woods. You’ve crossed the river now, and you’ve come to the heart of the night. Even I don’t know all of what’s out there, and I know enough.”

Xu’sasar should have killed the creature with her first blow. She wanted to show her respect for Daine, to give the outlander the chance to make a decision. She hadn’t expected him to make the wrong one. Did the outlanders know nothing of the final lands? This was a bird of ill omen, surely sent to test and trick them.

And now they were following the path it had suggested for them.

Xu’sasar led the way, searching the trees for any sign of motion. The others followed close behind. This road was cobbled with disks of densewood, irregular circles of many sizes, likely harvested from fallen boughs. The path was wide enough for two giants to stand side by side, and it reminded Xu’sasar of the ancient roads in her homelands of Xen’drik. She tried to remember how many times she had used such roads as the foundations for ambushes, leaping out from the sheltering jungle and scattering unwary explorers with a swift and furious assault.

“She’s got some colorful ideas, that one,” said the crow. “If I had friends in wait, you think I’d do something as obvious as this? I’m so clever I’m stupid, is that it?”

Daine was just behind Xu’sasar, his black-feathered burden in his hands. Xu’sasar turned swiftly. “Stay out
of my mind,” she said. “There is still time for you to suffer. You might even live long enough to reach your shelter.”

“So you’re making the decisions now, are you?” Huwen said. “Here I thought you were this one’s hou—Oww!”

Daine prodded the bird’s injured wing, silencing the creature. “Stay out of your mind?” he asked.

“It feeds on secrets,” Xu’sasar replied. “How do you suppose it learned the things it knows? There is still time to kill it and let the knowledge die with it.”

The crow managed a chuckle. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think, girl. You have a few dozen threads, and you think you’ve seen a tapestry. For every two things you know, you’ve got a vast gap in between. Me? I’m no deceiver, no servant of some great evil. I just live here. Everyone’s got to live somewhere, don’t they? This is my patch.”

Daine tightened his grip on the black bird. “And the mind reading? Is that a thread of truth?”

“Oh, well, that,” Huwen said. “I suppose it is. I like the taste of thought, a bit of sorrow, a colorful secret. That’s just what I am. So I have a few memories when I’m feeling peckish. No harm in it, no more than you having a spot of stew now and again. You do me a good turn here, and I’ll be in your debt, won’t I? So why would I let on what I know?”

“I’ve done you a good turn already, bird,” Daine said. “Don’t push me further. If you betray us … well, why don’t you just take a look at my thoughts and see what I have in mind?”

Huwen shivered, ruffling his feathers. “That’s quite … colorful. I’m not sure it’s even possible, but truly, I have no intention of testing it out. As I see it, we’re all on
fair ground here. I was doing a bit of snooping. I’m the first to admit that. You caught me, laid hurt on me good. You help me get fixed up, I help you find some shelter for our lady friend here, and everyone comes out even. No need to go thinking things like that.”

“But I still am,” Daine said. “Remember that.”

Daine turned to Xu’sasar. “Your instincts are good, Xu. I understand what you’re thinking. But I’ve made a choice, and I need you to back me on it.”

She was surprised, less by what was said than by the way in which he spoke. Xu’sasar was a child of the wilds, trained to hear the voice of the spirit, and she could sense a growing strength within Daine—something he might not even be aware of himself. She still knew very little about the outlander. She gathered that he’d been suffering from some sort of illness in Xen’drik and that he’d earned the warrior’s marks on his back at the same time that he’d overcome this affliction. She wondered if this predatory spirit had always been within him, or if it was a seed that had taken root in the final lands.

He was waiting for a response. She clicked her tongue and inclined her head, a gesture she’d learned from watching him.

“Good. I need Pierce to carry Lei. If Huwen is telling the truth, that spark of light is the inn. Scout ahead. Take to the woods, whatever you think best. You know how you’d plan an ambush, so use that knowledge.”

She clicked her tongue again.

“Do
not
engage strangers. I can’t afford to lose anyone else. If you see anything threatening, return and report. If that’s impossible, we’ll need a warning signal. Can you match this?”

Daine whistled, mimicking the call of an outlander
bird. It took Xu’sasar two tries to match the call. He taught her two more calls, one for “all clear” and another for “response requested.” At last he was satisfied.

“You may be as sharp as Pierce,” he said. “You may be as quick in the night. Now show me you can be reliable. Good hunting.”

Xu’sasar clicked her tongue and stepped off the path. The bird watched her go but didn’t say a word.

As soon as she stepped off the path, Xu’sasar could feel the presence of the trees. A human might have dismissed this, shaken it off as general paranoia. Xu’sasar knew better. The trees were alive. They were more aware than the moon-dappled oaks on the other side of the river. With every step she took toward Dusk, the forest grew more aware and more hostile. Every step brought them deeper into the domain of the Woodsman. Xu’sasar wondered what shape this spirit preferred, what powers he possessed. She knew nothing of a Woodsman from the tales, and part of her took pleasure in this. She had the chance to carve out new legends. But now she had a task, a duty to protect this outlander. And she found herself feeling the first touches of fear. A noble death was no longer sufficient. She needed to live, to find a way to overcome her foes. What if she couldn’t? What if it was beyond her powers?

She pushed away these fears, pushed away all thought. A slight breeze blew through the trees, and Xu’sasar moved with this wind, slipping through the woods with such silent grace that not even the trees felt her presence.

There was no traffic on the path and little motion in the forest. Xu’sasar saw an owl swoop down on its prey,
taking to the air with a tiny man in its talons. A silver fox crossed her path, slipping between bushes. But neither owl nor fox saw Xu’sasar.

Only once did she come upon true danger, and she never even learned what it was. As she drew closer to the light, Xu’sasar felt a swift drop in air pressure. She froze in place, remaining perfectly silent and still. Even her keen eyes could see nothing in the forest, but she
felt
a presence ahead of her, moving through the woods. At first she thought it was a spirit of pure air, much like the spirits of fire bound by the hated Sulatar. Then it drew closer. The chill she felt was not due to icy air. Once in her life, Xu’sasar had encountered a true ghost, a restless spirit torn from the path of existence. That tormented soul gave off the same chill, but if that had been a light breeze, this was the heart of winter.
Even I don’t know all of what’s out there
, the bird had said,
and I know enough
. Now Xu’sasar knew what he meant. She didn’t want to know what this being was. She just wanted it to pass her by.

And it did.

The sensation lasted only a moment, and then it was gone. Xu’sasar held her breath a little longer, but the spirit had moved away, deeper into the woods. It was traveling away from Daine, and it hadn’t touched the path, so perhaps the bird had spoken truly after all. Perhaps the road was safe. The memory of the chilling presence lingered long after the spirit had passed, and Xu’sasar moved closer to the path for the remainder of the journey.

She didn’t have far to go. The point of light grew larger, and soon she could see that it was a lick of cold fire contained in a crystal cage, hanging from the bough of a tree. She had reached their destination.

It was easy to see how the Inn of the Crooked Tree had come by its name. The building itself was made of thatched straw and black mud, but it was built around a graywood oak, a twisted tree with a dozen crooked boughs stretching out over the long roof. Windows were made of a dark stained glass, but Xu’sasar could see the flicker of fire within, and she could smell smoke in the air. Shadows shifted against the windows, and Xu’sasar could hear laughter and conversation. She circled the building, listening to the faint sounds until she could distinguish the voices. Then she sprinted back through the night, skirting the edge of the road. The cold spirit that had brushed against her had moved on, and she encountered no significant threats on her return.

“The path is clear,” she said, when she reached Daine.

He nodded, and she fell into step alongside him as they moved down the road.

“Well, someone said it was, didn’t they?” Huwen said.

“Oh, right, that was me. Seems like I know a thing or two after all.”

“There are two levels to the building,” Xu’sasar said, ignoring the bird. “I believe there are only four people inside—at least, four who are awake. I saw no guards or sentries. The surface of the walls is easy to climb. I would suggest that I enter the second floor, kill any who sleep, and wait for you by the stairs. When you enter the front, we can converge on the four below, taking them off-guard.”

Daine and Huwen stared at her.

“What?” Daine said at last.

“We are outnumbered, but we will have the element of surprise. Our enemies may not be fully armed, though in this land we must obviously be wary of magic.”

“Did you …” Daine shook his head. “Just tell me when these people became our enemies.”

Now it was Xu’sasar’s turn to be puzzled. “We seek to claim their shelter, do we not?”

“It’s an inn,” Daine said. “You know … inn? Where people give you shelter in exchange for gold?”

“Gold?” Xu’sasar considered this. In Xen’drik, shelter was a precious thing. Her people did not build. Once they traveled to a new area, securing a ruin or a cavern was always the first order of business. You might share shelter with a tribe bound to you by blood, but when strangers held that which you desired, violence was simply the way of things. Unless …

Had she misunderstood Daine? Did he mean a place where people exchanged shelter for flesh? Certainly, that would make more sense than a gift of soft metal.

“Who are you planning to give to these strangers?” she said. The scorpion had ordered her to protect Daine. It said nothing about allowing him to sell her.

Daine frowned. “I’m not giving them anyone. It’s an inn.” He sighed. “I guess you’ve never seen one. They make a living providing shelter to strangers. In exchange for valuable goods. Not people.” He glanced down at Huwen, who had kept his beak shut throughout the exchange. “Since she’s brought it up, what sort of coin do you trade in here?”

“That’s all down to Ferric,” Huwen said. “Whatever he deems fair. He’ll make you a deal. I’m sure of that.”

“It would be far simpler to kill those inside,” Xu’sasar said. “We could make a beginning with the bird.”

Daine held the crow’s beak shut with his thumb and forefinger, silencing the bird before it could respond. “Enough, Xu. There’s no need for killing here. If I have to drop an enemy, I’ll do it. But I’m not killing a man just to get a roof over my head for one night. Understood?”

Xu’sasar clicked her tongue, and they moved forward once more.

Daine was a mystery to her. Xu’sasar would follow his orders, but she would be ready for whatever treachery awaited them. Clutching the bone wheel in her hand, she concentrated, remembering the lessons she’d learned as a child and envisioning a new shape. The wheel flexed and contorted in her grip, ivory melting and stretching. Xu’sasar reached down with her left hand to grip the second hilt. A moment later she held a bone dagger in each hand, with an ivory chain connecting the hilts. She tested the blades. Their balance was a thing of beauty, and she felt as if they were her own claws. She showed her teeth to the moon above and hoped the people at this “inn” would give her a reason to shed blood.