Keith Baker - The Gates of Night

“A moon,” she whispered. “They broke the moon.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lei tried to force the image out of her mind. The pattern was painfully complex, more intricate than anything Lei had ever tried to create. For a moment, she feared it would swallow her thoughts. She pushed back, trying to ground herself in familiar concepts-words, numbers, stories. “Legends say that once, there were thirteen moons above Eberron,” she said.

“And we just lost one somewhere along the way?”

“Yes,” Lei said, still struggling to control her thoughts. “Some say that the planes are tied to the moons. Lakashtai said that the monolith was a place where the giants built weapons for their war. I think she was telling the truth. The central pillar was designed to allow travel between the planes. The orb I restored was supposed to prevent it.”

Daine frowned. Magical theory was hardly his greatest strength. “How? Smaller words.”

“The orb … it was designed to represent both the moon and the plane of Dal Quor. It’s called sympathetic magic, though I’ve never heard of it being used on such a scale. I think that by destroying the sphere, they severed the connection to Dal Quor and drove the invading spirits away.”

“And the moon?”

“Vanished? Shifted to another plane? I’m just guessing.”

Daine nodded. “And Lakashtai somehow controlled your mind and made you put it back together?”

“Yes. But there’s more to it. It was so complex. I could never repair something like that. But I just knew what to do. It was as if the knowledge was hidden within me, and Lakashtai somehow pushed all other thought away and forced it to the surface.” She remembered that moment, that utter focus on fixing the damage … and a second revelation pushed its way forward. “Daine … I healed my hand.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how. But whatever Lakashtai did to me … when I repaired that orb, I healed myself as well.”

“How is that even possible?” Daine said. “You said that not even Jode could heal that level of damage.”

“He couldn’t. I can’t. I don’t know!”

Daine threw up his hands. “One mystery at a time. This orb. You’re saying that those dead giants used it to stop an invasion.”

“I think so.”

“And Lakashtai … is one of these invaders?”

“I don’t know. We need to talk to a kalashtar!”

Daine shook his head. “After all we’ve been through? That’s the last thing I’m going to do. Still, this is starting to make sense. When Gerrion separated us, Lakashtai was furious. She almost killed him. What if this whole thing-the entire trip to Xen’drik-was staged to get you to Xen’drik?”

“What?” Lei shook her head. “You were sick-”

“What if she made me sick to begin with? Back at Karul’tash, she said this was never about me. She said, ‘Sometimes the best way to achieve your goals is to threaten another piece.’ She couldn’t get you to go to Xen’drik on your own. But she knew you’d do it-”

“To save you,” Lei breathed. “And we played along. But why didn’t she just drive me mad? And why me, in any case? I’m hardly the best artificer in Sharn, let alone in the world.”

“Perhaps-”

A new sound cut off Daine’s speculation. It was faint, distant, but set against the silence of the night, it might as well have been a thunderous explosion.

It came again. The baying of a distant hound.

“It seems like we’d best prepare for company,” Daine said. “How quickly can you finish this oracle of yours?”

Lei studied her scattered tools, searching for the mixture she’d been working on. Luck was with her. In the midst of the chaos, the mortar remained undisturbed. “It’s ready for use. And if we may have a fight ahead, I’d rather use it now.”

Daine nodded. “Get back inside the sphere. I’ll watch the door. Hopefully Pierce and our wayward drow will return before anyone reaches us. All the same … as soon as you’re done, I want you to prepare a blinding charm, and to toughen your armor. We’ve been running hard for days now. This time, let’s be ready for a battle.”

Lei gave a quick salute. “Yes, Captain Daine.” She made her way into the carriage, and Daine moved to block the portal. Glancing back, she caught sight of something strange. Daine was facing away from her, watching the plains, and she saw a strange mark at the base of his neck. It was only the briefest glimpse, a flash of black and red rising up from his chainmail byrnie, the edge of a bloody bruise.

But this was no time to look into injuries. She set the mortar in front of her and sat on the floor. Searching through the pockets of her pack, she found a long match and lit the contents of the mortar, producing a stream of aromatic smoke. Lei closed her eyes and breathed in the vapors, trying to set her thoughts adrift, to release the stress of the last few days and hours. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but as moments passed she felt that there was a presence surrounding her, a force that was watching, listening. Lei tried to speak, to open her eyes, but her body seemed distant and unresponsive.

What should we do? she thought.

The answer was immediate. The thoughts seemed to fill the world-

Your answers lie in the evening twilight beyond the Gates of Night. Darkheart must taste the blood of the Huntsman. She knows the path, and she is the key .

With those words, the presence faded, and Lei’s eyes snapped open. The last traces of the smoke were fading, drifting out the portal. She felt lightheaded, and the word Darkheart hung in her thoughts. But there would be time to consider this riddle in the future: Daine had given her orders, and she had to prepare for battle.

Daine kept his eyes on the plains, searching for any sign of movement. Since they’d last heard the distant baying of the hounds, he’d seen nothing. But now it was clear that they weren’t alone … and the cries had sounded like hunting hounds to his ears. Trouble was coming, he was sure of it. Just a matter of time.

If anything, the possibility of battle was a relief. Being alone with Lei was both joy and torture. In the brief moment of Lei’s seizure, Daine had felt a terrible helplessness. He was a man with a sword, and there was little he could do when the battle was purely magical. And Lei … Daine knew that she cared for him. There were times when she relaxed her guard, when she allowed herself to let her emotions show. But then she would push him away, force distance between them. He knew what the problem was: blood. Lei was an heir of House Cannith, and she bore the magical Mark of Making. Daine was born into House Deneith, and while he did not carry the Mark of Sentinel, the blood of the house was in his veins. It was said that mingling the blood of two houses was a sure way to produce a child with an aberrant dragonmark. Daine had never placed much stock in these stories or the tales of the malign consequences of carrying an aberrant mark-until he’d settled in Sharn. Last year he’d fought members of a guild formed by people with aberrant marks, a group that called itself House Tarkanan. Beyond the powers granted by their marks, many of these people were disturbing or disturbed. Daine could still remember the halfling girl sitting under a table talking to her rats, and the rotting flesh of the Tarkanan warrior who’d almost killed Daine with a touch.

Lei had been driven from her house, while Daine had turned his back on his family. But their blood remained, and it was one barrier Daine couldn’t break through.

A sound cut through the silence-the call of a Cyran dusksinger. It was a signal. Pierce had returned. Daine gave an answering call, signaling a clear path, and the warforged soldier emerged from the shadows of a massive tor. As Pierce approached, Daine saw that Xu’sasar was with him, the dark elf almost invisible in the night.