Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

“As long as Harmattan agrees with you.”

“Do not worry about Harmattan showing mercy to flesh and blood, brother. If he spares a breather, rest assured he has a reason.”

They fell into silence again. For a moment Pierce saw Lei’s face in his mind, but his thoughts were interrupted by noise-a massive figure crashing through the jungle.

Harmattan was coming.

W ake up .

It was Jode’s voice. Faint, distant, but as familiar to Daine as the voice of his father.

Wake up!

The scent of smoke was strong in the air. He could hear a rhythmic pounding, the sound of metal on metal-a column of armored soldiers, marching nearby. There was a terrible pain in his left thigh, as if he’d been stabbed. His other injuries seemed to have vanished.

He opened his eyes.

The night sky was hidden by dark clouds, lit from below by distant fires, but Daine knew that light wasn’t coming from an elven city. He could hear torn tents flapping in the slight wind, and he could feel a rough pallet beneath him.

This was Keldan Ridge. The camp on the hill.

He sat up, sending a pulse of pain through his injured thigh. “Jode?”

The campsite was deserted, and Jode was nowhere to be seen. He rose slowly to his feet. The sound of armored footsteps grew louder, and he saw that a column of warforged was marching in a circle around the camp. These were the warforged he’d fought in the battle, and they formed a moving wall of metal bristling with blades and spikes.

“This didn’t happen,” he said, only half expecting an answer.

“Are you certain? Perhaps you just don’t remember it.” The voice was an all-too-familiar purr. The woman standing next to Daine pulled her hood back. Her silvery-white hair reminded him of the wretched elves, but her skin was as pale as snow.

“Tashana,” he said.

Wrapped in her cloak, she seemed more shadow than substance; either she was surrounded by a thin layer of dark mist, or she was only a shade herself. She met Daine’s gaze, and her eyes gleamed. “Your protector grows weaker by the hour, and now that you’re imprisoned it’s only a matter of time before I shatter her defenses and break you.”

She reached out to touch his face, and he found that he couldn’t move. Suddenly it was Lei beside him, and he felt a disturbing thrill as she stroked his cheek. He tried to speak, but he was frozen in place. “But what about our houses?” she said, glancing coyly to the side. She laughed, becoming Tashana again as she pulled her hand away.

“Ah, Lei,” Tashana said as she pulled up her hood. “We’ll have some fun with her, you and I. It was I who killed her betrothed, you know, and I’ll do worse before I’m through with the two of you.”

Daine was burning with fury, but for all his anger, he still couldn’t move.

“Who are you playing with now?”

The voice came from behind him, from further away, and it drew an angry hiss from the woman at his side, but it was a familiar voice-Tashana’s voice. He flung his fury at the force that held him paralyzed, and he felt something give.

Wake up .

And he did.

Daine awoke in darkness.

Again.

“Why couldn’t I get captured by light elves,” he muttered.

At least this time, the darkness felt natural-a simple absence of light, as opposed to some supernatural force or the fading effects of poison. He was lying on a smooth glass floor, and after twitching his fingers and toes he decided that everything was where it should be. He sat up.

“ Gaah!”

The ceiling of the cell was less than three feet high, and his forehead slammed against the glass ceiling. He stretched out his hands, tracing the walls of his prison. It was a small hollow, a little over six feet long and about three feet high and three feet wide. Every wall was made of smooth glass, with no trace of a door. There were two small glass bowls lying next to him-one filled with water, and the other with what seemed to be thick gruel.

“‘Oh, trust me, you’ll get your meal and your bed.’” Daine slammed a fist against the wall. “The gray rat just never bothered to mention they’d be in a thrice damned prison cell.”

Silence was the only response.

He patted his clothes. The shirt beneath his chainmail was stiff with sweat and blood, and he could only imagine how bad he must smell. His dagger and the club were gone, but they’d left his belt pouch alone.

Wake up , he thought. Perhaps it was all still a dream.

He reached into his pouch and searched through its contents: a few copper crowns, the keys to the inn and to his trunk back in High Walls, a shard of green crystal, and a small glass vial filled with blue liquid-glowing blue liquid.

He took out the vial and set it on the floor next to him. The light was faint, but in the absolute darkness of the cell, it was a startling change. His earlier suspicions were confirmed: there were no signs of door or window, just smooth black glass all around. With the aid of the glowing vial, he found a few tiny holes in the ceiling, smaller than his smallest finger-air holes, presumably, to prevent him from suffocating.

He examined the two bowls under the blue light. The water seemed clear enough, and the gruel looked lumpy and unappetizing.

“Care for some gruel?” he asked the bottle.

The best thing about dying? Never eating gruel again .

“Sure, but you’re missing out on this great water. I’m sure it’s a fine gnomish vintage.”

Ooh, you’re right. Maybe you could just pour some in the bottle .

It wasn’t Jode, but staring at the vial, with Jode’s dragonmark stamped on the seal, it was comforting to imagine what his old friend would say if he were still around.

I think the elves are just trying to wear you down. After all, you put up such a fierce fight-they’re probably afraid of you .

Daine swallowed a mouthful of porridge. “I didn’t see you lending a hand.”

In truth, the struggle could hardly be called a fight. Once Gerrion joined the elves, Daine and Lakashtai were outnumbered by more than ten to one. Daine was weak from poison, and Lakashtai had expended a great deal of mental power in the earlier battle. The priest had bound Daine in chains of cold fire, and someone had clubbed him from behind; the last thing he’d seen was Lakashtai facing the woman with the flaming blades.

Hard to lend a hand when you don’t have any, but I healed you, didn’t I?

Daine paused to consider this. It was true. The gouge on his cheek was gone. The sickly weakness from the poison had faded away. Aside from the terrible hunger in his belly-which the gruel was addressing, however unpleasantly-he felt fine. “Really?”

Of course not. I’m dead, remember? The elves must have done it .

“Why would they do that?”

How should I know? They were talking about prophecies, legends and testing you. Maybe they want you healthy for it .

“I thought the test was fighting those guards.”

Well, that would have been a big failure .

“I failed you.”

I didn’t give you much of a choice, did I?

Daine looked at the little bottle. “You were there for me when I was at my worst. I should have-I should have known. I should have taken better care of you.”

Enough self pity. I’m the dead one. You’ve got other things to think about .

“Like what? Digging my way through a wall of glass?” He sorted through his belongings and produced the crystal shard. “I’m sure this will do the job.”

The words had scarcely left his lips when he felt a wave of intense heat. An orange glow suffused the wall to his right, and as he watched the wall melted away. Instead of simply flowing down toward the ground, the molten glass spread out in a circle-flowing up and sideways in defiance of gravity.