The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (23 page)

“What happened?” Lei said when she finally released Pierce. “Where
are
we?”

“Not far from the river where you had your accident, my lady. We were able to find shelter in this inn, so that you could rest. By the bell in the common room, eight hours have passed since our arrival.”

Eight hours?
The faint moonlight beyond the dusty window was just as it had been when they arrived. The room looked just the same as it had when he had fallen asleep.
Thrice-damned world of darkness
.

But none of it mattered now that Lei was awake. Pulling on his shirt, he rose out of bed and took her arm.

“Daine,” she said, gazing into his eyes.

For a moment he was lost again, and Pierce and Xu’sasar were forgotten. He tried to speak, to tell her his feelings, but his throat was empty and his tongue could not shape the air.

Lei could see that something was wrong. Xu’sasar’s words must have finally registered. “What’s happened to you?” she said, joy turning to concern.

Daine shook his head and made a dismissive gesture with his free hand.

“He loaned his voice to the innkeeper in exchange for our lodging,” Pierce said.

“What do you mean, loaned his voice?” Lei said, eyes widening.

“Just that,” Pierce replied. “I do not understand the magic involved, my lady. The innkeeper employed necromantic energies to remove Daine’s voice from his body. I have heard him making use of it downstairs, while you have been sleeping. He vowed to return it to Daine when we left. Hopefully we can trust his word.”

Lei turned and slapped Daine, leaving an angry red mark across his cheek.
What?
He tried to say, with no success.

“What did you think you were doing?”
Lei said. As surprised as Daine was, he now saw that fear, not anger, drove her. “Making
deals
with these people? Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said about this place? Haven’t you read a damned
story
in your life?”

“I told him the same,” Xu’sasar said, but Lei wasn’t listening.

I did it for you, Daine thought, and I’d do it again.

Lei pulled her hand away from him. “We’re leaving. Now.” She strode across the room and grabbed her
satchel. “Pierce, I want to see this innkeeper.”

“My lady, you have been ill. We do not even know what you have been through. Perhaps this is not the time for a conv—”

Lei reached into her satchel and pulled out the darkwood staff. The staff
moaned
, a clear note of warning and woe. “Pierce, take me to this innkeeper or get out of my way so I can find him myself.”

“As you wish,” Pierce said. Daine had just finished pulling on his chainmail byrnie. Buckling his belt, he grabbed his boots and rushed after them.

The fire still burned in the common room, and the fiddler was playing a merry tune. Huwen the crow chuckled and cawed as Daine entered the room. The bird’s wild gestures proved that his wings had been healed, and he was chattering to Ferric, pecking at a crust of bread and occasionally dipping his beak in a wide cup. The portly innkeeper guffawed at one of Huwen’s jokes, and Daine winced at the sound of his own laughter. He glanced around the room, but it seemed that the two other patrons had taken their leave.

“You,” said Lei, striding across the room.

Ferric turned with a smile, but his face froze when he saw the darkwood staff leveled at his throat. There was a moment of fear, but Daine saw something else in his eyes, as if he had just recognized a stranger behind a mask.

“Lady … Lei,” Ferric said, and it was Daine’s voice, full of emotion, the voice he would have used when he saw her in the dim light of the gray room.

“You don’t know me,” Lei said coolly. “You made a deal with my friend. We’re here to settle the bill.”

As she spoke, the unseen fiddler changed his tune, increasing the tempo to a jolly jig. The music wormed its way into Daine’s mind, pushing away thoughts, encouraging him to forget his troubles and dance. Even Pierce began tapping his foot. Then the darkwood staff answered the tune. Her song was one of loss and sorrow, and Daine didn’t need to hear the words to be affected by the dirge. The voice of the staff shattered the cheery tune, and Daine could gather his thoughts again.

“Try that again and I’ll feed you your fiddle,” Lei said. She glared across the room, and following her stare Daine finally saw the source of the music. The fiddler was a tiny man, and only magic could account for the volume of his music; his instrument was little more than a toy. The musician’s head might have reached the top of Daine’s knee if he stood as straight as he could. His jacket was soft brown velvet, buttoned with gemstone shards, and he had the lower body of a grasshopper. He paused in his song, looking at Lei with great reproach.

“All is well, Zimi,” Ferric said. “It seems we have a guest musician under our roof.”

The fiddler tossed his head and tucked his fiddle under his arm. One leap took him halfway up the stairs, and he disappeared onto the second floor.

“Now,” Lei said. “I believe you were going to give my companion his voice back.”

Daine watched in wonder. Lei seemed to have the situation well in hand.

“You’re feisty when you’re awake, aren’t you now?” Huwen chuckled, then squawked as a swift stroke of the staff sent him tumbling off the table. “Should have left that one asleep, you ask me,” he muttered from the floor.

“Lady
Lei,” Ferric said. He still had Daine’s voice, but now his tone was formal, respectful. He took a step
back and looked her in the eye. “Do stop abusing my guests and the help. I made a simple business arrangement with your companion. I fully intend to honor the terms of our agreement. And trust me, you’d rather have me as an ally than an enemy. So why don’t you calm down and have a little dinner? I think you’ll find we have much to discuss.”

“I think we’ll be leaving now,” Lei said. “And I don’t see what help you could offer us.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge, my dear,” Ferric said. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. The Crooked Tree is the only free house under this moon, and the path leads ever deeper into the domain of the Woodsman. I don’t know what you know of him”—his eyes flickered down to the darkwood staff—“but given your companions, I can assure you that he is your enemy. Sit at my table. Eat my bread. Tell me your business in this land. And perhaps I can help you with your problems.”

“Not interested,” Lei said. “Just give Daine his voice back, and we’ll be on our way.”

Ferric sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “As you wish.” He walked out around the counter, stopping in front of Daine. “You know how this works. Just open your mouth.”

Smoke flowed from Ferric’s throat, and an awful scream filled the air. The vapors flowed into Daine’s mouth, pressing against his skin like a writhing serpent, and Daine fought to push away the images of the snakes he’d seen hanging from the trees. He struggled to keep from gagging—and then it was over.

“Thank the Flame,” he said, for the first time in a year.

It felt as if the words were rotting in his throat. He knew that sound. It was the voice the innkeeper had
greeted them with when they’d first arrived.

Ferric opened his mouth, and it was Daine’s laugh that came from his lips.

“Honor the terms of your agreement?” Lei said, and the staff was raised again.

“I have, my dear,” Ferric said, “and not even your companion can challenge me on that.”

“You said you’d give me my voice back,” Daine said, every word a new horror.

“That I did, at first. Than you said you wanted the price to cover your companions as well. I told you that in that case, I’d give you
a
voice back, and you agreed. I’ve upheld my end of our bargain.”

Huwen chuckled from the floor. “Likes a deal, he does. I did tell you that.”

“This will not stand,” Lei said.

“Oh, it will,” Ferric said. “Don’t you think to threaten me beneath the Crooked Tree. But if you want your lad’s fine voice back, I think we can come to an understanding.”

Sword and dagger were in Daine’s hands, but the darkwood staff whispered and Lei waved him back. “No, Daine. You know the stories. I think he’s right.” She turned back to Ferric. “What do you want?”

“Her,” Ferric said, pointing at the staff. “You have quite a bond, I can see. But I have … a way with the spirits of the wood. I don’t know how you came by her, but I can’t imagine she means more to you than young Daine does. Give her to me, and I return Daine’s true voice to him.”

“I can’t,” Lei said. “We need her.”

Ferric nodded. “Oh, I think you’ll find that once I’ve taken her away, the Woodsman will no longer have an interest in you. What more do you need? A path home? I’m sure I can help you with that, as well.”

Lei looked at Daine, and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. The staff began to sing, a low and mournful song.

“Don’t worry, Darkheart,” Ferric said. “You’ll find my home a fair one … once we’ve established the order of things.”

Lei’s face paled, and she took a step toward Daine. Her hand tightened around the staff. Daine reached out, taking her arm. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t do that to her.”

Daine didn’t know what Lei was talking about, but it didn’t matter. This was his mess. “Well,” he said, and the sound of his ghastly voice brought tears to her eyes. “There’s no deal.”

Ferric smiled, his pointed teeth gleaming in the firelight. “As you wish. I come out ahead either way. I will enjoy your fine—”

The innkeeper’s eyes widened as the point of an ivory blade burst through his throat. No blood flowed from mouth and wound. Instead there were wisps of smoke and the faintest whispers.

“Open your mouth!” It was Xu’sasar. The drow girl pulled her blade from the innkeeper’s neck, and shoved the wounded man. Ferric staggered a few steps and collapsed at Daine’s feet. Now smoke was pouring from the dying man’s neck, and a terrible scream filled the air–Daine’s scream.

Daine opened his mouth without thinking. The nebulous smoke converged into a tight column and flowed down his throat, and now
he
was screaming as it burned within him. He was screaming. With his own voice. “Flame!” he said, marveling at how wonderful it sounded.

“What have you done, girl?” Huwen flew across the
room and landed next to Ferric’s twisted form. “You can’t kill the likes of him. Not here!”

Lei seemed just as shocked. The staff had fallen silent, and Lei knelt over the corpse. Ferric’s body seemed to be collapsing in on itself. “He’s right. The tales—”

“It seems our people tell different tales,” Xu’sasar said. “I suggest we leave.”

“You would kill my husband, and leave me his corpse? You would break an honorable vow?” It was the voice of an old woman, cold and penetrating. For all that it was a rasp and a whisper, it carried over the chaos and brought silence in its wake. A woman stood in the corner of the room, and despite her stooped posture she stood almost as tall as Pierce. She stepped into the light, and Daine saw that she had withered vines in place of hair, and her skin was rough gray bark. Her limbs were long and twisted. Daine knew little of magic, but he was no fool. The Inn of the Crooked Tree, the gray trunk rising up through the center. And Ferric’s warning …
the Crooked Tree will be no safe haven after my death
.

“I would,” Xu’sasar said. She raised a bone blade. “Behold the Wanderer’s Tooth, withered old tree. Husband and vow, both fall to its edge.”

“Aye,” the dryad said. “A foul thing indeed. I pity you, child.” She looked at the others. Daine’s sword was still in his hand, Pierce had his last arrow nocked and ready, and the darkwood staff was steady in Lei’s hand. “With your vile claw and dear Lady Darkheart, you might even bring me down.” She shook her head. “Ferric should have known better. And I hardly approve of his interest in you, Darkheart. I suppose he deserved his fate.”

“So what happens now?” Daine said, still crouched
and ready to strike. The sound of his voice was music to his ears.

“You take what food you require and leave,” the dryad said. “And never seek shelter beneath my boughs again.”

Daine nodded. He took a step back and slowly sheathed his weapon. “You are gracious, lady. I am sorry to have brought sorrow to your door.”

“Just take it with you, child. And never return.”

Daine turned to the others. “You heard her. Grab some grub and let’s be on our way.” He wasn’t thrilled with the thought of eating Ferric’s food, but his stomach was rumbling, so he took a loaf of bread and a wineskin. He looked back at the old dryad. Huwen was perched on her arm, and she was talking quietly with the bird.

“Let’s go,” Daine called out to the others. As he made his way to the door, something caught his eye: Ferric’s corpse. At first it seemed that the body had disintegrated. All that was left was an empty set of clothes. Then Daine saw the withered body of a weasel, poking out from the collar, a ghastly wound in the animal’s neck.

Daine took one last glance at Huwen, wondering what the next innkeeper of the Crooked Tree would look like.