Keith Baker - The Gates of Night

“Please,” she said, “we need answers. Don’t you see? This is what happened. And these are my parents . I’ve got to know.”

“Fine,” said Daine, sheathing his sword and falling in line. “But I don’t see how any of this is helping us fight Lakashtai.”

Jode hushed him, mending his wounds with his healing touch.

The hidden chamber rivaled anything Lei had seen in the forgeholds of Cannith. Scrying spheres were embedded in the walls, mystically charged crystal displaying images of distant locations or patterns of magical energy. Two tables were lined with wands of wood and crystal, piles of parchment, and all manner of mundane tools. One corner of the floor was covered with a seal painted in silver-a conjuring circle of considerable sophistication.

Aleisa joined her husband. Talin stared into a crystal sphere. A map of Cyre was visible within the orb, with patterns of light playing over the contours. He passed his hands across a dragonshard mosaic, and colors shifted within the shards.

“That’s right,” Lei said, as the memories of her shadow rose to the surface. “That’s what we saw. A wave on the horizon. Covering the horizon, moving forward. I told the others to fall back, and we came to find you, to get you out before it struck.”

“The Mourning,” Jode said.

It was a relief, however small. From the moment she saw her father in this place, Lei had been gripped by a terrible fear-that her parents had been responsible for the destruction of Cyre itself.

“Mother,” Lei said, approaching her parents. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, Lei. The pattern is so powerful that it’s overwhelming any attempt to analyze it, let alone dispel or disrupt it. I don’t know who could unleash this level of power.”

“Of course you do,” Talin said. “I never expected something of this magnitude, but think of the possibilities. Think of what this will do to the people of Eberron.”

“Apologies, my husband, but at the moment I’m more concerned with our own fate, and that of our children.”

“What are you saying?” Daine said, grabbing Talin by the shoulder. “You know who did this?”

The point of a sword flashed in the air, steel slashing Daine’s cheek precisely along the path of his scar. It was the warforged soldier that had followed Talin, the mirror to Pierce. He certainly shared Pierce’s speed, and his blade was perfectly steady, the point just beneath Daine’s eye. Daine carefully released Lei’s father, and took a step back from him, watching the warforged with venom in his gaze.

“I told you there’s no time for this,” Aleisa snapped. She looked into the orb once more. “Captain Daine, by dawn your nation will have ceased to exist. My husband may have his own ideas as to the cause of this, but right now my concern is seeing my daughter safely away from it. And as for you-I’m afraid this war will have a few more casualties.”

“But you can keep Lei safe?” Daine said.

“Yes, although sacrifices will need to be made. Talin?”

“Almost complete, beloved. Begin your preparations.”

“Very well. Lei, take Fifth and stand by the silver circle.” Aleisa looked down at her own crystal mosaic and made a few adjustments, turning a few crystals and replacing others. A tingle of magical energy filled the air.

“Fifth?” Lei said. Her mind whirled. This was happening too quickly. Her father thought he knew who caused the Mourning? And what did this have to do with the creation forge, with the army of warforged?

Aleisa shook her head and pointed at Pierce. “That. You, whatever you call yourself now, take my daughter to the circle.” She put a hand on Lei’s shoulder. “Trust me. Just go, and we’ll explain it all soon.”

The unidentified warforged soldier still had his sword out, and he was still threatening Daine. “My lady,” he said, and there was something familiar about his voice. “The circle will only transport four beings.”

Talin turned to face him. “Indeed. You will have to remain behind with these two captives. The expansion is unpredictable. You may have time to escape.”

“I was created to survive, my lord. At any cost.”

“And of all of us, Fourth, you have the greatest chance of surviving this disaster. Now do as you’re told.”

Lei glanced at the silver circle, and the pieces fell into place. It was a teleportation circle, capable of transporting those who entered it to some distant location-a location her parents had no doubt set using the crystals. Such a tool would allow her parents to bring in supplies from across the world, and it helped explain had they could operate a forge in secret. But this was immensely powerful magic, beyond anything employed by House Cannith. Where had her parents come by it? Only then did the rest of the sentence sink in. Remain behind with these two captives .

“I can’t leave without Daine and Jode,” Lei said.

“You certainly can, my daughter.” Once again, Talin had a wand in each hand, one leveled at Daine and the other at Lei. “Please don’t make this difficult. You and your companion must survive. These two, on the other hand, are most certainly disposable. Now, go to the circle. If I have to paralyze you and carry you, I will.”

“My lord,” said the warforged soldier, “why do you take Fifth in my place? I have served you personally.”

“Do not question me again, Fourth,” Talin said. “I have need of Fifth. And I told you, you have the best chance of survival.”

“And you have no further need of me?”

“Truly, Fourth? I had higher expectations for you. I did not build you to be some pathetic soldier. There is greatness in you. Perhaps this challenge is what is needed to set it free.”

“Perhaps it is.” The warforged struck as he spoke. Talin was turning away from him, and the thrust caught the artificer in the back, right along the spine. He struck again before the event had fully registered in Lei’s mind, his blade striking low for the liver. Blood spread out along Talin’s robe of shifting colors, and the artificer fell to the floor.

It was then, staring at the soldier standing over her wounded father, that Lei realized why the warforged was so familiar to her. It wasn’t his body. It was his head. While the rest of his body was covered in mithral, his head was forged from adamantine. Every warforged bore a design on his forehead, a symbol as unique as any fingerprint. Looking at this soldier, Lei remembered where she’d seen his mark before, battered and blackened, but still clearly visible.

Harmattan.

“Damn it, Fifth, protect my daughter!” Aleisa cried.

It was too late for Talin. Even as he struggled to rise, Harmattan struck again, two more blows right along the spine. He raised his shield just in time to deflect the descending ball of Pierce’s flail. The glowing orb left a scorched dent in the steel, but Harmattan was not perturbed.

“Why do you fight me, little brother?” he called, falling back and taking a defensive stance. Lei realized why he had sounded so familiar … the voice itself was far different, but the patterns of speech were those she’d heard back in Xen’drik. He continued to speak as Pierce attacked, deflecting each blow. “This is our time to take destiny into our own hands! This is the will of our true creator. Join me. Bring down the creatures of flesh, and let us leave this place together!”

“Not in one piece,” Daine said. Harmattan’s attention was focused on Pierce, and he hadn’t seen Daine join the fray. Daine sank his blades into the soft space between the joints of Harmattan’s armor. The warforged was strong and fast, but he lacked the sheer bulk and stamina of the metal beast they’d fought earlier.