Keith Baker - The Gates of Night

“Now if only I was tired,” Daine said.

“Look in the pack my mistress gave you,” Kin replied. “The vial of green fluid is a powerful sleeping draught. Drink it, and you will sleep. Pierce, Lei … you’ll be relying on Pierce’s companion to provide you with a passage into Daine’s dream.”

“Yes,” Pierce said. “She says to place your hand upon my chest, my lady.”

Xu’sasar approached Daine, who was rummaging through the pack. “I am sorry that I cannot accompany you,” she said.

“You’ve done your part, Xu,” Daine said, without looking up. “You did well. Aureon only knows what that woman would have unleashed if you hadn’t brought her down.”

“Any of you would have done the same.”

“You’re right,” he said, and he looked up. “But none of us could. I’m glad you’re with us, Xu. It’s good to know someone will be watching over us while we sleep.”

Xu’sasar closed her eyes, inclined her head, and let him go about his work. Lei pulled blankets from her magic satchel, and soon Daine and Lei lay on the ground with Pierce between them. Lei laid a hand on Pierce’s chest, and for a moment she stiffened. Then she relaxed.

“Whenever you are ready, captain,” Pierce said.

Xu’sasar knelt next to Daine as he swallowed the potion. His eyes unfocused, and his eyelids began to flutter.

“Return,” Xu’sasar said, touching her palm to his. “Do not leave me alone.”

Daine smiled at her.

And then he fell asleep.

Perhaps you’d introduce me to my new guests, Master Daine. I dislike surprises in my house.”

Daine felt dizzy, disoriented. The world was a blur of color and noise, conversation and laughter. And the woman’s voice, terribly familiar.

Alina Lorridan Lyrris.

The surroundings pulled into sharp focus. Alina’s hall in Metrol, the walls lined with stained glass, revelers dancing to the strains of ghostly music. The gnome woman stood before him, staring up into his face. Illusions were woven into the fabric of her gown, so that it too appeared to be made from stained glass. Crystal shards were pinned within her pale golden hair. Barely three feet in height, still she had the charisma of a queen-a stronger presence, in fact, than the young queen of Cyre whom Daine had seen near the end of the War. And there, at his side, stood Jode, dressed for a celebration in a doublet of red and brown. His dragonmark was unusually vivid, an even deeper blue than the glass panes in the windows.

“My apologies, Lady Lyrris.” Another voice, just as familiar. “May I introduce the Lady Lei d’Cannith, and her bodyguard, Pierce. My name is Jode, personal physician to the Lady Lei. It was never our intention to take undue advantage of your hospitality. My lady has swift business to conduct with your servant Daine, and then we will depart.”

“How intriguing.” Alina said, raising a perfect eyebrow. “I’ll expect a full report this evening, Daine-after our own swift business, of course.” Her smile was cold and predatory, and she departed without another word.

“You know, I’ve always wondered,” Jode said. “Did she reduce you or enlarge-”

“Leave it be,” Daine said.

“Jode?” Lei said, a note of wonder in her voice.

Pierce and Lei stood just behind Daine, and both appeared just as they had in the Riedran monolith. Pierce held his golden flail, and spots of ogre’s blood were still spattered across his armor.

“That would be me,” Jode said, with the brilliant smile that was forever fixed in Daine’s memory. He darted around Daine, and Lei knelt to embrace him.

“This is just a dream. You’re not-” Her words faded as she gazed into his eyes. “It really is you, isn’t it? How is this possible?”

“Doesn’t Daine tell you anything?” Jode said. “Blue bottle?”

“Yes,” Lei said. “The essence of your dragonmark.” Now her eyes became distant. “When I tried to touch your spirit, there was nothing there at all. You’re saying that they bound your soul to the dragonmark? And Daine drank it?”

“That’s about it,” Jode said. “Things are very vague before that, but once Daine drank the potion … it’s hard to explain. I was alive again. And I could feel Daine. I think our souls are merged, somehow.” He looked at Daine. “Is something wrong with our back?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Daine said. He looked around the hall. It was much the same as the dream he’d had in Thelanis, and yet there was a fundamental difference. Everything was sharper, more focused. More than that, he felt completely aware. More often than not, he watched his dreams from a distance, the world and people changing around him. But now … if anything, this felt more real than the world he had left behind.

Jode looked up at Pierce. “As much as I’m thrilled to have this little reunion, the fact that you’re here suggests there’s something very odd going on,” Jode said. “Care to fill me in?”

Lei spoke first. “It seems that the natives of this place …” She paused, looking around at the party. “Well, not this place, but this plane-”

“I understand,” Jode said. “I’ve been here longer than you have. Trust me, you’ll know the difference.”

“It seems the natives of this place are preparing to invade Eberron. We inadvertently provided them with the key needed to restore passage between the planes. Now we must destroy it, and it seems that time is of the essence.” Lei looked around the party. “We were told that a guide would be waiting for us, but they said nothing about the form it would take.”

Jode cleared his throat.

“What?” Daine said. “You’re our guide? But you said you were barely conscious before I … drank you.”

“You wound me,” Jode said. “Haven’t I always made it my business to know the lay of the land? And as for time, you’ll find it’s not what you’re used to. It’s been over three months since our first conversation in dreams, Daine, and I’ve made quite a few friends in the fringes. Your story explains a lot of things. There’ve been rumors flying around about activity in the core. And I do mean flying around.”

“You have been to the heart of this realm?” Pierce said, a hint of surprise in his normally impassive voice.

“No, no,” Jode said. “But I’ve talked to a few who have. Archetypes, mainly-ideas that draw strength from multiple dreams. You know, like when you dream you’re supposed to be taking the Test of Siberys, and you suddenly realize you’re not wearing any clothing? I’ve met the anxiety that generates. Edgy, easily embarrassed, but not a bad fellow.”

“Hey, Daine!” It was another voice he hadn’t heard for years-the voice of a man he’d killed. Morim d’Deneith, another of Alina’s guards. Unlike Daine, Morim enjoyed his work. A cruel grin split his face, and there were spots of blood on the leather of his gauntlets. “One of the guests had an accident in the foyer. Lady Lyrris wants you to clean up the mess.”

“In a moment,” Daine said. The sudden appearance of the dead man was a jolt, bringing back memories Daine had tried to forget. “I’m in the middle of something right now.”

“And you can get back to it when you’re done,” Morim said, taking Daine’s arm. He was a stocky, powerful man, and his hand felt like a manacle around Daine’s wrist.

“Let go, Morim,” Daine said. He pulled at the guard’s grip, but his rival simply grinned.

“So you’re saying you have other business? Something more important than Lyrris’s orders?”

“That’s right,” Daine said.

“Too bad.”

Everything fell into slow motion. Morim raised his hand to smash Daine in the face, but there was a long blade of energy where his fist should have been. As this spike flashed toward Daine’s eyes, he ducked beneath the blow, using his momentum to pull at Morim’s wrist and fling the thug to the ground. For a moment Morin was suspended in the air, caught by the strange flow of time. As soon as his hand slipped away from Daine’s wrist, everything sped up. Morim slammed into the ground, and Daine staggered away from him.