Rich Wulf - Rise of the Seventh Moon

“Tristam, Omax,” Seren whispered as she watched helplessly. “Get out of there!”

The wreckage of the Seventh Moon shuddered. Plumes of red fire erupted from the hull. A loud, keening wail began from somewhere deep within the ship. It reminded Seren of the Fellmaw’s screams at Zul’nadn.

She caught a glimpse of a large figure leaping out of the hole in the ship’s belly with something heavy slumped over one shoulder, and then the Seventh Moon exploded in a sphere of brilliant white energy. Seren was thrown to the ground as the shockwave rolled over her. She could see nothing but white light. A sense of warmth suffused her, a sharp contrast to the bitter cold that always accompanied the Legacy’s use.

Then the light faded. The warmth subsided. Seren’s vision slowly returned. The ground no longer shook. The terrifying fissures that split the island receded and vanished entirely. Omax stood over her, beaten and scorched, but alive. He held Tristam’s body carefully in his arms.

“He is alive,” Omax said, “but only just.”

Seren nodded in relief, unable to speak. A familiar hum drew her eyes up. A burning ring of blue flame pierced the night above them.

Amazing,” Zed said. The inquisitive stood at the ship’s rail, staring out at Skyway. Far beneath them, the floating city district had completely stabilized. Bits of cloud that had vaporized when Marth had used the Legacy were beginning to regenerate. The Brelish fleet circled the district in a buzz of activity, making certain Skyway was stable and that no more attackers lay in wait. Above the Mourning Dawn , a massive Brelish warship hovered patiently. Its docking ladder hung only a few feet above their deck. Zed cast the ship a nervous look then turned to Omax.

“How did Tristam do it?”

“That which can destroy can also preserve,” the warforged said simply.

Zed looked at Omax curiously. The warforged paid him no mind, watching the skyline with rapt attention. Ijaac and Gerith stood at the rail watching in awe. Aeven’s head was bowed as she leaned against her figurehead. The dryad wept softly.

“ Kenshi Zhann is free now,” she whispered.

“Where in Khyber is Shaimin?” Zed said, looking around the deck in irritation. “If that elf abandoned us again …”

“Shaimin perished on the Seventh Moon, ” Omax said. “He sacrificed himself to delay Marth while we cleared the way to the ship’s core.”

“Oh,” Zed said, surprised. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by the elf’s final act of heroism or relieved that Shaimin wasn’t coming back. Either way, he’d never expected that sort of thing out of a Thuranni.

Dalan’s hatch opened behind them and a trio of Brelish officers emerged. They cast a cold, suspicious gaze over the crew before climbing the ladder and returning to their ship. The huge airship banked and soared away, joining her fleet in the patrol of Skyway.

“Pherris, get us out of here quickly,” Dalan said, appearing from within his cabin. “I have satisfied Captain Hoyt and his crew for the moment, but we should remove ourselves from the area while we are able.”

“What did you tell them?” Zed asked.

“I leaned quite heavily on my family name,” Dalan said. “That, combined with the fact that our ship has no weapons, Draikus’s warning that Marth was coming, and Tristam’s bravery have allayed their suspicions for now. Captain Hoyt and his men are keenly interested in the safety of the city. Rescuing survivors is his current priority. It is only a matter of time, however, before Hoyt’s superiors begin wondering what just happened here and direct him to conduct more … energetic investigations. So let us vanish before they find their curiosity.”

“Aye, Dalan,” Pherris said. “Where to?”

“We still need to rendezvous with Norra and find out what she’s learned,” Zed said. “Zamiel is still out there.”

“Morgrave University, then,” Dalan said. “Southern central Sharn, if memory serves.”

The Mourning Dawn banked and descended in a wide arc, leaving the floating district of Skyway behind as she dipped down into the City of Towers. The airship soared through narrow canyons between broad walls of buildings. People walked about the city on raised bridges and narrow catwalks, paying no attention to the ship as it flew past.

“Khyber, they all live in the sky,” Ijaac mumbled, terrified. “How can they stand it?”

“Not everyone is afraid of heights, Ijaac,” Gerith teased.

“Cautious!” the dwarf snapped, flushing. “I’m just cautious.”

“I’m going to check on Tristam,” Zed said, heading toward the ladder that led to the lower deck.

“He should be well enough in Eraina’s hands,” Dalan said. “I shall need you presently.”

“Me?” Zed asked, looking at Dalan. “Why?”

“Norra’s last post was curious, even for her,” Dalan said. “I suspect there may be trouble. You know this city better than the rest of us.”

“All right, but didn’t you live here as well, Dalan?” Zed said.

“I was an ambassador of a dragonmarked house,” Dalan said. “I came here as a tourist. You lived here as an inquisitive.”

“Details,” Zed replied.

“Ijaac, Omax, accompany us,” Dalan said.

“Expecting trouble?” Ijaac said. He rested one gnarled hand on the butt of his morningstar.

“Indeed,” Dalan replied. “This is not nearly over yet.”

The spires of Dalannan Tower rose before them, higher than any of the surrounding buildings. Karia Naille circled the tower that housed the University and descended to a small docking tower. Zed disembarked with the others, pausing only to glance back at the Mourning Dawn ’s scorched hull.

“There is a small Tinker’s Guildhouse in northwestern Tavick’s Landing, lower level,” Dalan said to the captain as he walked down the gangplank. “Ask for Maris d’Cannith and give her my name. She will discreetly arrange for repairs.”

“Aye, Dalan,” Pherris said. “Good luck.”

“And to you,” Dalan replied.

With a steady crackle of magical fire, Karia Naille ascended and soared away through the city. Zed watched her depart without a word. When he turned to leave, he noticed Dalan watching the ship leave with an oddly pensive expression.

“Something on your mind, d’Cannith?” Zed asked as he started down the stairs toward the street below.

“I just had a rather troublesome thought,” the guildmaster replied, following.

“What is it?”

“Zamiel,” Dalan said. “We know that he guided and supported Marth, but we still don’t know why. What interest would a dragon have in turning the Five Nations against each other? I would think mortal politics would be beneath such a creature.”

“No way to know,” Zed said. “I just hope Norra turned up something that will help.”

“But we do know one thing for sure,” Dalan said. “If a creature with Zamiel’s power wished to foment rebellion, he could have done so in any number of ways. Instead, he chose specifically to aid Marth in rebuilding the Legacy.”

Zed turned to look at Dalan as they walked out into the street. “What are you getting at, Dalan?”

“I was just thinking that we could end all of this very easily right now,” Dalan said. “The Dragon’s Eye was destroyed. There’s only one way the Legacy could ever be rebuilt-and that’s using the Mourning Dawn ’s elemental core.”

“So if we scrap the Karia Naille , he’ll be out of luck,” Ijaac said, completing the thought.

“Not scrap her so much as dismantle her core,” Dalan said.