The Gates of Night: The Dreaming Dark - Book 3 (34 page)

Morim rose to his feet—but he wasn’t Morim any more. Both hands were curved, glowing blades. His flesh and clothes burst, revealing the red chitin armor of some monstrous insect or crustacean. His head was wider, flatter, and a host of burning eyes were pressing forward through his skin.

You’re an interesting one, traveler
. The telepathic projection still held traces of Morim’s voice, but it was overshadowed by a malevolent alien presence, thick and cold, oil running through his mind.
More awake than you should be. Let’s see what happens when you die
.

Daine drew his sword and dagger, setting himself on first guard—and then blinked. The dagger in his left hand wasn’t his dagger. Instead of black adamantine, it was plain steel. It was a trivial thing, inconsequential in the grand scheme. But it was a distraction, and that was all the creature needed. The horror ripped free of the remnants of Morim’s flesh, lashing out with both blades.

And ran into Pierce and Lei.

The darkwood staff was in Lei’s hands, the striking end studded with vicious thorns. Pierce’s flail ended in a true ball of fire, a blazing orb that smashed
through one armored shoulder. Daine recovered his balance and made a deep thrust, sinking the point of his blade into one of the creature’s blue eyes. A howl of pain echoed through his mind, and the creature vanished.

Daine whirled toward Jode. “Well,
guide
, what in Aureon’s name was
that?
And why aren’t they
doing
anything?”

The revelers around them continued to dance and drink, seemingly oblivious to the ruined mass of flesh on the floor.

“I told you that the locals were easy to recognize,” Jode said. “That was one of the weakest. These others, Alina … they’re just figments plucked from your memories.” He prodded the remnants of Morim’s body with a toe. “It’ll take some time for that spirit to reform, but I suggest we start moving. Give me your hand.”

Their fingers touched, and Daine staggered. Sensations poured through his mind, memories and images, just as when he’d touched Jode in the first dream they shared. Once again, he felt a sense of the world around him, and how it was no world at all—just one bubble drifting in vast darkness.

“Daine!” Lei cried.

“Let it go,” Jode said. “Don’t try to see it all. Focus on me. Follow me.”

The chaos faded, his surroundings resolving once more. Jode tugged on Daine’s hand, pulling him forward, deeper into the great hall.

“Come,” Jode said. “Tell me where we’re supposed to go.”

“Draconic … eidolon,” Daine said, still catching his breath.

“It’s supposed to be a region formed from the dreams of dead dragons,” Lei explained. “Some sort of sanctuary for their spirits.”

“Oh, certainly. I think we can find a way,” Jode said. Daine laughed, and Jode looked up at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” Daine said. “Leave you alone for a day, and already you know your way around.”

“I told you, it’s been much more than a day for me. And this sanctuary you’re looking for … it’s the sort of thing the locals talk about. We’re in the fringes of Dal Quor, you see, where reality is shaped by mortal dreams. The quori spirits use these realms as a hunting ground, preying on dreamers and wanderers like me. This dragon realm, well, it’s one of the only places in the fringes that the quori are afraid to go. Of course, no one else who goes there returns, so it’s not exactly a popular destination.”

Their surroundings were changing, subtly at first. The revelers slowed in their dance, and the color faded out of the glass windows. By the end of Jode’s speech, Daine saw that the people around him were no longer flesh and blood. They were statues, and the paneled floor was covered with warm sand.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“We’re moving,” Jode replied. “Leaving your memories and searching for another dream. And let me tell you, it’s far easier with you here. It would have taken me hours to get this far on my own.”

“Two souls in one body,” Lei murmured.

“I think so,” Jode said. “It’s as I said. Our spirits are merged. Honestly, I don’t know what our potential is, but touching you I can
feel
power within us. A fortunate thing that you drank the potion, eh?”

“No …” Daine said. “No. It wasn’t luck. She
told
me to do it.”

“Hmm?”

“The sphinx. Flamewind. ‘You will be asked to give away the soul of your closest friend.’ When Harmattan challenged me, I remembered those words.”

“Interesting,” Jode said. “And it was Flamewind who led me to Olalia … and to my death. So was she predicting the future, or creating it?”

“Is there a difference?” Lei said. The walls of Metrol faded away, revealing an endless desert. Stone pillars rose from around them, etched by wind and sand into shapes faintly reminiscent of the revelers they’d left behind.

The words of the Morim-creature returned to Daine’s mind. “What happens if we die here?”

Jode shrugged. “Hey, I’m already dead, remember? Normally, you’d just wake up, I think. But now … there’s something different about you. All of you. I’ve met quite a few dreamers, and you’re more
real
than they are. More like the archetypes. I think, somehow, you’re really
here
. And if that’s the case, dying seems like a bad idea.”

“Shira concurs,” Pierce said. “Death would surely be a traumatic experience. Even if we survived, we might be left comatose, wounded spirits trapped within our physical bodies.”

“Oh, right. Shira.” With everything else that had been going on, Pierce’s pet spirit had slipped his mind. “Are you sure about her, Pierce? From what Thelania said, haven’t we just brought the dragon to the hoard?”

“I believe in her, captain,” Pierce said. “This is not her home, and these are not her people. She was as horrified to see that creature in the hall as you were.”

“If you say so.” Daine frowned. The desert came to an abrupt end ahead, with nothing but stars visible beyond the sand. “Jode?”

“Don’t worry,” Jode said cheerfully. “It’s only the end of the world.”

A vast chasm lay ahead. If it had another side, it was beyond the range of Daine’s eyes.

“So where do we go now?” he said.

Jode pulled his hand free and pointed to the sky. Daine followed the gesture and drew his breath in wonder. A dragonshard floated above them, a golden crystal burning with inner light. It was larger than any shard Daine had seen, as large as a wagon—and it was the first and smallest in a chain. A belt of golden dragonshards rose into the sky and curved across the horizon.

“The Ring of Siberys,” Lei said, her voice filled with wonder.

Jode smiled. “Welcome to the sanctuary of the dragons.”

T
he Ring of Siberys. The golden belt that stretched across the sky. According to legend, it was the remnants of a great dragon, slain at the dawn of time. Some stories said the first dragons were formed from the blood of Siberys, or that the Ring was the ultimate source of magical energy. Most of the sages of House Cannith dismissed these myths, but there was no denying the magical power within the golden dragonshards that fell from the Ring. And shards of such size—the wonders that could be forged with such things!

It’s just a dream!
Lei looked away from the light, feeling foolish. Nothing here was real. This was someone’s imagining of the Ring, nothing more.

Daine’s concerns were more practical. “So where are the dragons?” he said.

“I never promised dragons,” Jode replied. “What lies ahead are the
dreams
of dragons, and dragons long dead at that. I don’t know what form this eidolon of yours will take. Whatever it is, it’s somewhere up there. In the Ring.”

“So we just start climbing?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” Jode said. “If you were a dragon, you could just fly.”

“I’m not a dragon.”

“I could be,” Lei said.

“What?” Daine looked at her.

“I’ve never tried anything so large, but I think I could transform myself into a dragon.” Lei’s mind raced, calculating mystical parameters and dredging up half-forgotten formulas. “The change wouldn’t last long. But I would be able to fly and carry the rest of you.”

“What are the risks?” Daine said.

“Risks.” Lei grimaced. “It’s hard to say. I’ll have to channel a tremendous amount of magical energy, and if I lose control of the forces, I could end up trapped in the body of a lizard. Or I could have my organs turned inside out, exploded from within, or something else spectacularly fatal.”

Daine glanced down at Jode. “Well?”

“Don’t ask me,” Jode said. “It’s her body.”

“I can do this,” Lei said. “I know it’s dangerous, but I can make this work.” As crazy as it was, something about it appealed to her. The thought of spreading her wings, taking to the air—of shedding this increasingly strange body, if only for a few moments.

“Faith matters here,” Jode said. “We’re walking in dreams. If you’re sure of yourself, I think it’s worth the risk. But I want us to work together. Daine, sit next to me and take my hand. We need to envision her success, lend our strength to Lei.”

“What should I do?” Pierce said.

“Watch,” Jode replied. “By now, the quori may be looking for us. Keep your eyes open for any signs of attack.”

“Think good thoughts,” Daine muttered, making no attempt to conceal what he thought of this operation. Nonetheless, he sat next to Jode, took the halfling’s hand, and closed his eyes.

Perhaps it was just Lei’s imagination, but she did suddenly feel calmer, stronger. She closed her own eyes and began to build the pattern.

The magic of artifice could not be bound directly into flesh and blood, and an artificer had to tie her patterns to inanimate objects. Lei typically used her armor for this task, her green and gold jerkin. This was an heirloom of her family, said to be the work of one of the greatest artificers of House Cannith. A reservoir of magical energy lay within the golden rivets, and Lei could use it for her most difficult enchantments.

Or so she’d always believed.

Now, as Lei reached out for the mystical patterns that defined the vest, a shock ran through her. Lei had worked with illusions in the past, and this was the same sort of sensation as watching an illusion fade, revealing a strange reality. Her mental image of the vest faded away, and Lei realized that she was working her own pattern, the lifeweb she had discovered within herself.
There’s never been any power in the vest. The energy I was calling on is in
me.

It made no sense. Then again, natural flesh and blood couldn’t be repaired with the magic of the artificer, and she’d already proven an exception to that rule.

What am I?

There was no time for doubt. The energies she was binding had built to a critical point, and if she let her mind wander, the Sovereigns only knew what would become of her. Pushing her fears and doubts
away, she focused on the threads of mystical power, forcing the divergent filaments into one coherent pattern. Finally, carefully, she laid that pattern over her own.

An explosion of light and heat spread throughout her muscles.
She was growing!
Her leather armor merged with her skin, transforming into huge, rusty scales. Leather flaps formed as her arms transformed into mighty wings, and she could feel her powerful tail stretching out behind her, ready to lash at her foes. For a moment she was baffled by the presence of the tiny mammals and the little metal man. Instinct demanded that she take to the air and strike these impertinent creatures down with tooth and claw. Then the fog lifted from her thoughts, and she remembered who she was and where she was. Lei. The dragon.

“That’s a dragon?” It was Daine’s voice, though it seemed so small and weak to her new ears. “I thought they had four legs.”

“This creature is a wyvern,” Pierce said. “Aside from the missing forelimbs, it lacks the deadly breath and magical power of the creatures often referred to as true dragons, compensating with a poisonous stinger in its tail. Despite these differences, it is a form of dragon.”

“I—” Lei’s first word caught in her throat. Her voice was hoarse thunder, and her tongue was not made to speak the Common tongue. She tried again, struggling to form words with a throat designed for mighty roars. “I’ve … never seen … a dragon. Best I could do.” She stretched her wings, feeling a thrill as they caught the air. Remembering the task that lay ahead, she leaned her head against the ground. “Mount!”

“We’re just going to hang on?” Daine said. He looked over at the seemingly bottomless chasm. “Oh,
this
is a fine idea.”

“Confidence!” Jode said, crawling up Lei’s neck. A slight ridge ran along her spine, and he wrapped his hands around one of the points, bracing his feet against her scales. “You’re dreaming.
Believe
, and you can succeed.”

Lei knew Daine, knew the bitterness that he carried inside, and she expected him to respond with a jibe. The destruction of Cyre had been hard on all of them, but Daine had suffered the worst. Lei had lost relatives, but the nation meant little to her, and Pierce placed greater worth on his companions than on the abstract nation. Cyre mattered to Daine, and he’d been haunted by that sense of loss and failure, both his failure to protect the soldiers under his command and to somehow defend the nation itself. And then the nightmares began.