Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

“Let’s go!”

Daine and Pierce ran for the entrance. Pierce went out first, and he loosed an arrow the instant he was out of the passage; judging from the cry that followed, the victim was at least a hundred feet away. Slipping up to the mouth of the tunnel, Daine peered around the edge.

Over a dozen drow had made it through the deadly wards, and the burning banner still twisted in the wind. In the lead were two familiar figures. Gerrion brandished a blazing sword in one hand and wore a pulsing buckler on the other. He stood next to an older elf wearing an iron crown-the high priest Holuar, and Holuar was pointing right at them.

“Get back!” Pierce spun sideways, smashing into Daine and throwing him back into the tunnel. A gout of flame struck the entrance, and for an instant Pierce was outlined by fire.

“Pierce!”

The warforged staggered forward a few steps. “I will survive, captain, but I fear that the priest can bring that power to bear again if we reveal ourselves.”

Daine shook his head. “Everyone down the tunnel! Lei, I hope you’ve got something to slow them down.”

“Yes, captain,” she called, as Daine and Pierce ran toward her. “Just a little farther, and … this’ll do.”

Turning around, she flung the crystal shard up the passage to the surface. An instant later, it exploded in a burst of mist. A blast of frigid air swept over Daine, frost forming on his skin. He blinked, and when his eyes opened, the tunnel was blocked.

By ice.

“Ice?” he said. “We’re under attack by masters of fire, and you give me a wall of ice?”

“It was that or fire,” Lei replied.

“Wonderful.”

Daine took a moment to study their surroundings. The air was stale and slightly cold, though Daine imagined Lei was to blame for the temperature. The hall was about twenty feet across and roughly as tall as it was wide. The walls and floor were formed of the same red stone they’d seen outside, with no signs of blocks; it was as if the tunnels had been carved into a massive slab of stone. Light came from the walls themselves. Every surface was covered with words in a flowing script unknown to Daine, painted in cold fire.

“Lei?” Daine said. “What does it say?”

“Many of the inscriptions are simply proclamations of light,” Pierce responded, to Daine’s surprise. “Others speak of protection and secrecy-I suspect these are the shielding glyphs that I spoke of earlier.”

“He is correct,” Lakashtai said. “I … I cannot feel Kashtai’s presence. I cannot call on my inner strength.”

“Great,” Daine said, “but aside from our melting wall and powerless kalashtar, everything’s fine? We don’t have to fight-”

“Giants,” Shen’kar said. The glowing inscriptions covered every wall, but somehow the scorpion wraith found a shadow to step out of. Xu’susar stood beside him.

“Of course,” Daine said. “Naturally. How many?”

“Sixteen that we saw,” Shen’kar replied. “Six of the blade and ten weavers of magic.”

“Did they notice you?”

The elf cocked his head. “How would they do this?”

“I know you’re talented, but-”

“They are all dead.” Shen’kar said.

There was a faint thud … the ringing of a flaming sword striking against a distant wall of ice.

“Ah,” Daine said. “In that case, lead the way.”

“Onatar’s name,” Lei whispered.

“Yeah.”

Daine had foresworn his belief in higher powers long ago, but what lay before them seemed beyond the capabilities of any mortal force. The passage had led them directly to the center of the monolith. The tower stretched up above them, a hollow spire hundreds of feet across and perhaps a thousand feet in height; perspective was hard to judge from so far below. As impressive as the tower was, it was the object within that drew gasps of astonishment. The heart of the monolith was a massive obsidian cylinder almost as tall as the tower itself. It was covered with glowing sigils and inscriptions in the ancient language of the giants, inlaid with a dozen different metals and gemstones.

And it was floating. It was suspended ten feet above the floor of the chamber, and slowly rotating.

“Think of how much that must weigh …” Lei whispered. Daine preferred not to.

Perhaps a hundred metal rings encircled the central pillar, supported by invisible forces. Rising and falling, silently spinning in different directions and speeds, what truly caught the eye were the spheres. Thirteen crystal spheres circled in low orbits, each one studded with gems and glowing inscriptions. Perspective made it difficult to judge the size of these objects … but they were big.

The spheres drew their eyes up-but eventually Daine looked down. Circular tables were spread around the base of the obsidian cylinder. These were made of red stone and rose directly out of the floor. Here were the giants, slumped against the tables or sprawled across the floor.

The corpses were dried and desiccated but almost perfectly preserved; Daine wondered if the seal on the monolith gate had held all air in or if some other magic were at work. The closest corpse was that of a man; his skin was wrinkled black leather, as dark as that of the drow, and he would have been twelve feet tall if he were standing. He wore a tunic of a metallic, brass-colored fabric; the hem was trimmed in silver and embroidered with golden spirals. Daine guessed that the man had been broadly built in life, and it reminded him of the massive worn statues flanking the altar in the city of the drow.

“Look,” Lei said, pointing. “I think that’s a wand.”

Indeed, the fallen giant was clutching an object in his hand-a rod tipped with a black gemstone, but it was two and a half feet long, and as thick as Daine’s arm.

“Is it a weapon?” Daine said.

“I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t care. We’ve only got a few minutes. Is this thing remotely useful? Unless one of you can tell me what it does, we’d better keep moving and hope we can find an armory.”

Daine was looking at Lei and the newly erudite Pierce, but it was Lakashtai who spoke. “These are the planes,” she said.

“Yes … that’s right!” Lei echoed, staring at the column in wonder.

Daine sighed. “That clears everything up. Thanks.”

“The planes,” Lei said, “the outer planes-Dolurrh, the realm of the dead. Dal Quor, the region of dreams. You know.”

“Sure,” Daine said suspiciously, “so you’re telling me that the souls of the dead come here? Good, because give it a few minutes and we’ll probably be joining them.”

“No,” Lei said, exasperated. “This is a model of the planes. They … shift around Eberron, drifting in and out of phase, like the moons, and this is a model of that movement.”

“It’s more than that,” Lakashtai said. She took Lei by the hand and led her forward. Daine reached out to stop her, but Lakashtai brushed away his hand. “Look closely,” she whispered, stepping over the wrinkled head of a fallen giant. “Feel it. See what lies within.” Slowly, she placed Lei’s hand on the closest console, and the mosaic of gemstones encrusting the top of the panel burst into light.

“I can see it,” Lei said, breathless with wonder. “I can feel it, spreading out. It’s so much more complicated than any pattern I’ve seen before. It’s … beautiful.”

“And it helps us how?” Daine said, exasperated.

“It’s a gateway,” she said, “and I think … I think I can activate it.”

“I believe you are correct,” Pierce said, “but how can you possibly know how to operate such a device?”

“I can’t explain it, Pierce. The knowledge … it’s just there, as if it has always been there. It’s … the spheres. Each sphere is linked to another plane.” Without even seeming to notice what she was doing, Lei clambered onto the back of a giant’s corpse so she could run her fingers along the console. A deep, pulsing hum filled the air, and the orbiting rings began to spin at different speeds. “Passengers enter the sphere, and it is physically transported across the planar barrier. I believe-each sphere has controls inside allowing the travelers to return.”