The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (28 page)

“Yes,” Daine said. He glanced over at Lei, praying for an interruption, but her eyes were closed in blissful enoyment of the bath. “Well, don’t worry. We’ll find a way to return you to your people.”

“My people?” Xu’sasar always spoke swiftly, mimicking her fluid native tongue. But now her words caught in her throat. “My people are dead. I am the last of my family, and the burning jungle is no home to me. You heard the voice of Vulkoor. My path lies with you. You are my people now, and I will follow you until death takes us both.”

She leaned against his arm, resting her head against his shoulder. Daine could hear the sorrow and loneliness in her voice, and he couldn’t bring himself to push her away.

“Honored guests, your presence is requested!”

At the sound of Kin’s voice, Lei’s eyes snapped open—and widened as she saw the drow girl leaning on Daine’s shoulder. Daine leapt to his feet, sending Xu’sasar tumbling into the water. He felt Lei’s icy glare as he helped Xu’sasar up. He turned to give Lei a hand, but she had already climbed out of the pool.

“We took the liberty of cleaning and mending your clothes and armor,” Kin said. “Have no fear, Master Daine, for your companion Pierce maintained the vigil of a hawk throughout our work, and you will find your goods intact. You will also find gifts from her majesty. I will leave you to decide what would be most suitable to wear to the feast.”

“How kind of you,” Daine said. “If there’s one thing
I’ve learned over our long night, it’s not to trust strangers with gifts.”

Then he saw the gifts.

“Lei?” he said, looking down at the marble table. “Can we keep them?”

Two items had been set next to Daine’s clothes. The first was a coat of mithral chainmail painted in black enamel. Despite the density of the chain links, the shirt was almost weightless, one of the finest pieces of smithwork he’d seen. The second gift was a hooded cloak of shifting black glamerweave, clasped with a dragonshard brooch.

“The magic in these items is benign,” Pierce said. The warforged had been waiting for them in the antechamber, and Daine couldn’t remember ever seeing Pierce in such good condition. All signs of damage had been repaired, his metal plates polished.

“I have had time to study these objects while you cleansed yourselves,” Pierce continued. “The armor is mystically reinforced, the mithral strengthened by magic. The cloak will help you move unseen in conditions of darkness. The locket presented to Xu’sasar toughens the skin, giving it strength to resist physical blows. And Lady Lei, those lenses—”

“I know what they are,” Lei said. She was holding an unusual pair of goggles, with an assortment of adjustable lenses bound to leather straps. Her voice was quiet, and she seemed slightly pale.

“Lei?” Daine said, taking a step toward her. She stopped him with a raised hand.

“Get dressed,” she said quietly. “If Pierce says these things are safe, I’m sure they must be. Now let’s find out what the Dusk Queen serves for dinner.”

T
he great hall of Dusk was an imposing sight. Pillars of green marble rose up on each side, wrapped in delicate ivy strands formed from pure gold. Narrow streams flowed along both sides of the hallway, and the air resounded with the sounds of water and spectral music. Cricket fiddlers played in the shadows, and tiny men with butterfly wings played flutes and pipes from high in the air. The arched ceiling was painted with the image of the rosy sky of Dusk, and while it was static, it glowed with an inner light.

Pierce had rarely seen such spectacle. He had spent his life on the battlefield, with little time in the towers of lords or dragonmarked barons. Despite his best efforts, he still had trouble seeing the purpose in such things as golden ivy or painted walls. Many said that the warforged lacked the ability to appreciate art, but it wasn’t so simple. For Pierce, there was beauty in function. A well-made bow, a sturdy shield; these things inspired awe and respect in Pierce. The purpose of a building was to provide shelter and defense. The extravagant decorations were unnecessary.

They passed through a feasting hall with a table long enough to seat a hundred. It seemed their hostess intended a more personal experience, for the immense table was bare. They entered a far smaller chamber. An oval table dominated the center of the room, laid out with crystal goblets and large plates hidden beneath silver covers. A vast chandelier hung over the table, or so it seemed at first. As they approached the table, Pierce saw that it was a complex array of hundreds of points of light, suspended in the air with no visible means of support. The lights reflecting in the dark surface of the polished ebony table created the illusion of a starry sky.

“Please be seated!” Kin cried.

Xu’sasar sat next to Daine, while Lei chose the seat across from him. Pierce stood behind Lei and folded his arms.

“Master Pierce, do sit down!” Kin said. The fey courtier pointed to the place next to Lei, and Pierce realized that the chair was considerably larger than the others around the table—as if it had been specially prepared for someone of his height and mass.

“I do not eat or drink,” he said. “And my limbs do not tire.”

“Perhaps you’ve never eaten in the past,” Kin said, “but you would be wise to try our fare. And it would be an insult to her majesty if you were to stand at her table. Please indulge me.”

“Come, Pierce,” Lei said, pushing out the chair. “You don’t want to make a bad impression.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Pierce settled into the proffered seat. As he had thought, it seemed to be the perfect size. He found himself wondering about Kin’s words.
Try our fare?
Pierce didn’t have a stomach. He couldn’t consume food if he wanted to.

“Please, help yourselves to food and drink,” Kin said. “I give you my promise that neither will harm you in any way. My mistress only wishes to strengthen you for the journey that lies ahead.”

“Lei?” Daine said.

Pierce could sense discomfort in the interactions between these two. Lei had not met Daine’s eyes since they had emerged from the bathhouse. There was anger in her, but there were still many conflicting emotions, things she was holding in. For now she studied Kin, weighing his words. “I believe him,” she said at last. “Go ahead and eat.”

Daine uncovered his plate. “Is this
gorgon?
” he said in surprise. “I haven’t had this since I was nine years old! And this sauce—red wine and selas. This was my grandfather’s favorite dish.”

Lei filled her glass from the flagon by her plate, and blinked at the rising steam. “Blackroot tal,” she said. “With honey already mixed in.” She uncovered her plate and her eyes widened at the spread of meats and vegetables revealed beneath it.

None of this is what it seems
, Shira informed Pierce.
There is no danger
, she added, before he could shape the question.
This food and drink is formed of pure magical energy, and it will strengthen body and mind of the creature that consumes it. You should be able to eat such matter. It will be absorbed into the web of energy that gives you life
.

Very well
, Pierce thought. After years of watching others eat, he felt a certain level of excitement at the concept of eating his first meal. He removed the silver cover. The deep plate below was filled with a colorless paste. If there was an odor, it was too subtle for his senses.

Gruel.

His flagon proved to be filled with water.
The others are eating the same thing
, Shira observed.
The magic responds to your memories, and you have no pleasant memories to draw upon
.

Pierce tried a spoonful of the thick gruel. There was no noticeable taste, but Shira’s prediction was correct. The matter seemed to dissolve in his mouth. As he continued to eat, he felt a sense of strength and confidence. It was difficult to pinpoint, but he felt better than he had since they’d first set out to Xen’drik.

For a time, they dined in silence. They’d gone a long time without food, and Pierce’s companions were enraptured by the meal. As plates were finally cleared, a new figure entered the room. It seemed that all other light faded, and that she was the sole illumination in the room. The sparkling constellation above the table remained, but these tiny embers were eclipsed by the newcomer. There was no mistaking her. The Queen of Dusk had arrived.

The lady had the features of an elf, but she was taller than Pierce. Her dress was a marvel, a mirror of the sky. The gown was hemmed with pure gold, and the patterns woven into the thread burned with inner light. The skirt was the rosy hue of sunset clouds, while the colors shifted into the varied blues of a cloudy night above the waist. A net of gemstones gleamed in her long black hair, and she wore a circlet of silver with a crescent moon atop her brow. Beauty meant little to Pierce, as he had no biological response to such things. Yet Thelania transcended mere biology. There was a perfection to her form that made Pierce think of a perfectly balanced sword. Her beauty was an elemental force, and Pierce could
feel
the power of her presence, a thrill that ran through him when she looked his way. Pierce waited for Shira
to identify the phenomenon, but his companion remained silent.

“Welcome.” The woman’s voice was pure music; while it had little impact on Pierce, he could gauge its sensuous power in Daine’s reaction. “We have much to discuss, and all too little time.”

“And what
do
we have to discuss?” Far from being awed by this otherworldly beauty, Lei sounded angry. “Do you even know who we are?”

Thelania showed no signs of anger, no signs of emotion whatsoever. Despite her beauty, there was something strangely inhuman about her; her calm features betrayed no hint of the thoughts below. “I know far more than you can imagine, Lei, once of House Cannith. I have been watching you throughout your life. I know the circumstances of your birth, and your true nature. And I know the disaster you have wrought in Xen’drik, however unwittingly.”

Blood rushed into Lei’s cheeks, but it was Daine who spoke first. “What are you talking about?”

“I speak of the Dreaming Dark, of the force that has used you since the day you arrived in Sharn. For tens of thousands of years they have been trapped in nightmare, awaiting their own destruction. Now you have given them the key to escape that prison and overrun your world.”

“We
did this?” Daine said. “When?”

“The moon …” Lei breathed, her eyes distant.

The faerie queen smiled, but there was no warmth in it; this was the smile of an indulgent adult entertained by a child’s deduction. “Well done, Lei. It’s not quite so simple, but you have grasped the heart of it. In ages past, the giants of the land of Xen’drik found themselves at war with Dal Quor, the plane of dreams
and nightmares. An ill-advised conflict, fueled by arrogance on one side and desperation on the other. When the mage-lords of Xen’drik realized that they could not win this war, they sought other ways to end it, heedless of long-term consequence.”

Xu’sasar spoke up. “When the host of horrors tore through the veil of the world, the mighty ones plucked a moon from the sky and used its power to force their foes into the darkness of the mind, where they were soon forgotten.”

“There is some truth to the legends of your people, night child,” Thelania said. She raised her hand, and the lights above the table
moved;
what had first appeared to be a chandelier was now a mass of living sparks, obeying the will of the queen. They formed into thirteen brilliant orbs, circling a larger central sphere. “There is a link between the moons and the planes of existence, though it is no simple thing to explain. In the planar arsenal of Karul’tash, the giants sacrificed the moon to break the orbit of Dal Quor, severing its bond to Eberron and preventing its inhabitants from setting foot on the world.” She snapped her hand, and one of the circling spheres exploded in a burst of light. “The orb that you restored serves as an anchor, a representation of moon and plane. Now it is intact once more, and in the clutches of the Dreaming Dark. An army is gathering in the heart of Dal Quor, a nightmare horde beyond anything your world has seen in this age—and your people do not have the power of the giants of old.”

“What of the dragons?” Lei said. “Surely the dragons of Argonnessen wield more power than the giants ever did.”

“Indeed they do. And if they unleash that power in
battle, it will shatter humanity in its wake, like insects scattered before a storm. It was the dragons who finally destroyed Xen’drik, and if Khorvaire becomes their battleground, you are just as doomed. And so it falls on you to go Dal Quor and shatter the lunar crystal before the Dreaming Dark opens its own Gates of Night.”

Daine pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “You set a nice table, lady, but your stories don’t hold wine. None of this makes sense. If all these nightmares needed was to find someone to fix that orb, why didn’t they do it thousands of years ago?”

The fey queen remained impassive in the face of Daine’s outburst. “The crystal moon is a product of a forgotten age, of magic humanity has yet to master. Even the giants who forged the orb were meddling with powers beyond their understanding, and they could not have restored it. The sphere was made to
be
destroyed, not to be rebuilt. You might as well pour wine into the ocean and seek to reclaim it again. It was an impossible task—for anyone but Lei.”