Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

“You met my mother? Sailing to Xen’drik?”

“Yes. Perhaps thirty of your years ago. An interesting one, she was, strong currents flowing, not like the man who was with her; he was ice in the deepest water, cold and still.”

“My father …” Lei said. She glanced at Daine. “I told you that they’d been to Xen’drik.” She turned her attention back to Thaask. “What can you tell me about them? Why were they traveling?”

“The cold one did not speak to me, but Aleisa and I talked often. She was curious about the secrets hidden in the deep waters, the ruins of those who went before. As we spoke, she told me of her own questing.”

Daine found the whole conversation hard to swallow. Here they were in the middle of the Thunder Sea, speaking with a walking fish that just happened to have met Lei’s parents. “Lei. This is some sort of trick …”

“No,” Lei said, holding up her hand. “Thaask, please. What was she looking for? It would mean a great deal to me.”

“Mean a great deal, hssh? When one has a thing of value, it is customary to offer a trade.”

“I knew it,” Daine growled. “He’s just trying to catch you in his net and reel you in, Lei.” He took Lei’s arm, but she pulled away and stood her ground.

“This is my choice. What is it you want?”

“Your mother gave me a gift-a stone of music, which would play when held. It was taken from me long ago by a tooth of the Devourer. I would have such a thing again.”

Lei nodded. “I could probably make you such a thing by the time we arrive at Stormreach.”

“I trust you to hold to this bargain, for the honor of your mother,” Thaask said, “and I will tell you what I know between my warning rounds. Two things were foremost on her mind, and I can speak of those now, before my work begins.”

“Please!” Lei said.

Daine sighed and sat down on the deck.

“She traveled with the other in search of the ruins of those who went before. Her people had given life to the unliving, to create weapons of war-”

“The warforged, yes, I knew they worked on warforged.”

“She said that the old land held many secrets of those gone before,” Thaask said. He steepled his hands, tapping his yellowed claws together in a sharp click. “Her folk had plundered this knowledge to use in their creations, but she believed that there was far more to be found-that her kind had skimmed the surface without plumbing the depths. She wanted to find ways to improve these spawn of war, but she did not want to share her knowledge with her kin, whom she thought blinded by gold.”

“You said she spoke of two things.”

“Yes,” Thaask hissed. “The spawn of war, but also a child of her own. A daughter, she wanted. I told her of the spawning pits of my people, and she spoke of her desire for a daughter. It was a subject of sorrow for her, one of great difficulty, but one much on her mind. I am pleased to see that she met with success: She must be quite pleased.”

“She’s dead,” Lei said quietly.

“Yes, the great destruction on your land. We are glad this has come to an end; more ships sail this way, more needing protection of my kind, but my sorrows for her loss. I found her enjoyable company.”

“A subject of sorrow … what do you mean by that?”

“Difficulty with the spawning. I do not understand your reproductive cycles, but I know that the spawning often brings no children, and so it was with her. She felt that soon would change.”

Lei said nothing, but Daine saw her eyes grow wide, as if she’d just remembered something disturbing. “I’ll have your stone for you by the end of the voyage, Thaask.” Her voice was tighter than it had been a moment ago.

“You have my thanks. Speak again, when you wish it.”

Lei said nothing; she simply turned and walked to the hatchway, her expression blank and distant. Daine glanced at the sahuagin, who bobbed his head in something that might have been a shrug.

“Did I offend?”

“I don’t know,” Daine said, “but I intend to find out.”

Are we going to talk about this?”

Daine caught up with Lei below decks as she entered their cabin. Pierce was standing in a corner of the room reading a book, and he looked up as the two entered. Lakashtai was nowhere to be seen; the kalashtar woman often disappeared during the day, and said that she preferred solitude for her meditations.

“No,” Lei said. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Is there a problem?” Pierce said, setting down his book.

“No problem,” Lei responded, glaring at Daine.

“You’re in a good mood, for someone with no problems,” Daine responded. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I said I’d make a music stone for Thaask, and it’s going to be hard to do in time, especially with most of my tools at home. I should have considered the situation more carefully.”

“Creating a magic stone is your idea of a good time. I practically need to pry you out of the basement at swordpoint to get you to have a little fun. The conversation was going fine, and then he said something about your mother, and the next moment you’re running for the hatch. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Who said you had a right to know?”

“Damn it, I’m not trying to interrogate you!” Daine said. “If you don’t want to talk, fine, but if you’re in pain, of course we want to help.”

“Fine.” Lei sat down on the bunk, and all the energy seemed to flow out of her. “What do you know about the history of the warforged?”

“I didn’t ask for a history lesson.”

“You want to know about my family, that’s what you get. Most people think Aaren d’Cannith created the first warforged, and in a sense, he did. He developed the multi-composite construction of the warforged, the blend of wood, stone, metal, and organic material that is still used today.”

Lei was always fond of lecturing, and talking was clearly calming her nerves, so Daine decided not to press the matter. “Organic material? You mean flesh?”

“No, of course not, but wood is actually organic. Pierce, if you would, your arm-see those cords at the joints?”

“I always thought that was leather,” Daine said.

“Leather would likely rot or tear. Aaren derived this material from studying the livewood tree, which remains alive even after it is cut from the ground. These cords are much like tree roots-flexible, tough, even able to respond to magical forms of healing, though not as effectively as flesh and blood. These roots form the bulk of a warforged soldier’s muscles, if you will. The important thing is that the creation forges would actually cause these roots to grow at an accelerated rate, limiting the amount of steel and other materials needed to build a soldier.”

“Great, and what does this have to do with anything?”

“Merrix took the first steps toward the warforged, but his creations lacked true sentience. It was Aaren, his son, who created the first warforged-who adapted the creation forges to breathe true life into metal and wood, but Aaren had no interest in creating soldiers. He wanted to understand the nature of life-to try to fashion a creature with a soul.”

“House Cannith was only interested in war,” Pierce rumbled.

“That’s right. Aaren’s forges were taken from him. The best artificers of the house were set to work, ordered to find a way to duplicate and adapt his creation to produce superior soldiers. My parents were part of this effort. I grew up in a small, hidden forgehold, and I never saw a human child. My parents were always busy, devising new tools for the warforged or new body designs. I spent my childhood with the warforged themselves, discovering the world as they did; but no warforged remained at the hold for long, and my friends would all go off to war. There was a time …”