Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

Even more oddly, the stone took on a transparency that allowed the prince to look deep into the model’s foundations. There, far below, he found a simulacrum of the chamber in which he stood. And there, I can see tiny figures staring down at a model of this model and in it they would see tiny figures …

He shook his head, then glanced at Jancis. “Is this something you understand?”

She shook her head, too. “No more so than I understand the blocks moving. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jilandessa’s raven braid snaked over her left shoulder. “Actually you have. There are traces of arcanslata magick being worked here. Likewise in the spells that took Pack’s body and deposited it here beneath that effigy. They are probably urZrethi in nature, but there is something else. My knowledge is limited in that area.“

“Understood, Jilandessa, and not a concern.” Erlestoke frowned. “The magick was triggered when Jancis mounted the steps?”

“It would seem that way, but I have no way to be certain.”

“Highness, there, in the fortress.” Nygal pointed at a blue-green glow near the Crown Tower. “That’s near where the crawls are digging right now.”

As the prince moved closer, other details painted themselves on the model. Little red lines described paths snaking in and out of buildings. They connected large red dots with a white dot at the center. The dig site likewise had a red tinge to it, though it covered a larger area than one of the circles.

Suddenly the earth shook. The tremor was far from violent enough to topple them, but Erlestoke felt the short, sharp shock easily enough through his boots. On the model, a ruin near the site of the dig collapsed into nothing.

A heartbeat later the entire model wavered and vanished.

Erlestoke crouched and pressed his right hand to the platform’s smooth stone surface. It felt as cool as the effigies, and had Nygal and Jilandessa not been staring at the stone with surprise on their faces, he could have believed he imagined it.

He stood and folded his arms over his chest. “We agree we saw a map of the fortress, right?”

Ryswin nodded. “The red lines and spotted dots looked like patrol routes and garrisons.”

“Agreed.” The prince ran a hand over his jaw. “The glow at the dig would have been a DragonCrown fragment?”

“That would be likely.” Jancis frowned. “Were we only being shown one because we’re being given a mission, or is that the only one left in the Fortress?”

Nygal’s eyes widened further. “If there is only one here, then Chytrine has two.”

Erlestoke thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think time is long past when this sort of information about a fragment could do Chytrine good. Before her assault, another fragment was evacuated. If that is a fragment, then she’s only gotten one away from here. Jilandessa, any idea why the model went away?”

The Harquelf’s dark brows arrowed down over her slender nose. “A spell of that size would require a very powerful sorcerer to cast and a lot of energy to maintain. It could be that he got tired or it is possible that when that building collapsed, he was injured or killed.”

The prince nodded. “If I were to guess, I would say the Aurolani used firedirt to bring that building down. They would seem to be getting more desperate in their hunt for this fragment.”

Jancis walked up over to where the glow had been. “Here is the problem, Highness. They are digging here right now.” She took two steps to the left. “Two days ago, they finished digging here. And last week, they were digging over there.”

“You think the fragment is being moved?”

“It’s a logical conclusion to draw. Either it’s being moved, or something is making them dig in the wrong places.” The meckanshü shrugged her shoulders. “I think we have to ask if we can get to it before they do and then somehow get it out of Fortress Draconis. The difficulty is going to be that wherever it is, it will be defended. We’ll have as hard a time getting at it as they will, and then we have to get it away.”

Ryswin knitted his fingers together at his belt. “Perhaps we let them get it, then take it away from them.”

Erlestoke shook his head. “That plan has merit, save that they could give it to an araftü and have it flown away before we can crawl up from below.”

Nygal smiled. “We’ll just have to kill all the araftü . I’ve got plenty of shot and firedirt.”

The prince nodded. “Good idea, but what if a dragon is sent to get it?”

The Savarese soldier let his smile broaden. “They make bigger targets.”

Everyone laughed for a moment, then Erlestoke frowned. “I think the colonel is right, we have to find it first. If we can’t, then we have to fall back on Ryswin’s plan and make sure the Aurolani don’t haul it off.”

Verum, the grizzled meckanshü who served as their weapons-master, crouched at the edge of the platform. “Begging your pardon, Highness, but how do we know this model wasn’t a trick of Chytrine’s? If we plan based on it, we could be running into a trap.”

“That’s a good point, so we will have to be careful. I am inclined to trust it, though, because I don’t see the Aurolani venerating our dead like this. All the information given to us was such that it would help us and yet we have nothing that, if revealed to the enemy, would help her.” The prince nodded to him. “Your caution is laudable, though, so we will be careful. We can verify the patrol routes with some scouting and, if we are fortunate, we will find our way back here to learn more.”

Ryswin jerked his head at the tiers of effigies. “I think, Highness, we might all find our way back here, by one means or another.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I hope that in one sense you are wrong.” Erlestoke looked around and sighed. “This is an august company, but I don’t want to join it. And if we can find that fragment and steal it away from Chytrine, I think our comrades here would be more than pleased to forgo our joining them.”

Alexia shivered as she looked at Will. The flame of a half-burned candle flickered and shifted the shadows on the youth’s face and chest. He lay very still in the bed, with his hands crossed over his stomach, the sheets and blankets pulled down to his waist and folded neatly. Peri had seen to that, and now lurked back in the shadows between Dranae in the corner and Resolute’s brooding presence in the chair beside the door.

The wan candlelight did nothing to disguise the seriousness of Will’s condition. His flesh had an alabaster hue to it that brought into sharp relief the network of angry red veins that radiated out and up from the wound. Bandages swathed his neck, though the bleeding from the punctures had mostly stopped. Sweat dappled his brow and gathered in the small hollow at the base of his throat.

Worse than how he looked was how he sounded. His breath came ragged and wet. He would breathe in, then silence would reign for a moment before a labored exhalation. She feared each breath would be followed by silence unbroken.

Qwc sat on Will’s pillow, carefully plaiting a temple lock. The small Spritha beat his wings to cool the boy, and kept murmuring things in his ear. Alexia could catch none of the words, but she hoped they brought Will some peace. She even imagined seeing his mouth twitch in an effort to smile, and refused to admit she was just deceiving herself.

A gentle knocking came at the door and she opened it. “You came, Highness.”

King Augustus nodded. “Thank you for sending for me. No progress?”

“None. He lives but we don’t know for how long.” Alexia closed the door behind Alcida’s monarch and waved him to the chair beside the bed. “We’ve sent word out to healers, but without elven magick, we have little hope.”