Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

Daine sighed. He’d never expected the firebinders to sacrifice Gerrion, but he had no intention of allowing the gray man to escape after what he’d put Lei through. My precious honor , he thought, remembering a time when that might have mattered.

“Now we look to your bargain,” Xu’sasar sang. “Holuar is left in this sea of endless flame, but the monolith is now open, and others could follow. Let this place be destroyed?”

“Lei?” Daine said. He pulled his weapons out from under the dead giant, and went to help Lakashtai.

“I don’t know. The power contained in these spheres-even if I can find a way to destroy them, the energy released could devastate the area for miles around-or worse.”

“You will find a way,” Shen’kar said.

The dark elf was still holding his poisoned rod, and his scorpion was perched on his left wrist. His words were fluid and beautiful, but it was clear to Daine that this was a statement, not a request.

“There may be weapons elsewhere in the monolith that could be of use,” Lakashtai said. “Have you learned how to dispel the wards that are blocking the use of mental powers?”

“In fact, I think I have,” Lei said. She’d wandered over to another panel halfway around the vast chamber. “These inscriptions on the walls defend against all sorts of supernatural effects. I think that these crystals empower these enchantments, so if I remove this one …”

A long line of glowing words faded into darkness. The temperature began to drop, and Daine’s breath steamed in the suddenly frigid air.

“I can destroy the heating enchantments. Hmm. It seems the gate system has a rather … chilling effect. Let me try something else.”

A second line of light faded off of the walls.

“Yes!” Lakashtai said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly letting the air flow out of her lungs. “I can feel again.” She stretched out a hand, rotating slowly in place.

“There,” she said. The central chamber was like a great wheel. The passage to the surface was but one of the spokes, and there were five more tunnels spreading out from the chamber of gates. Lakashtai paused, pointing to the northeast. “This is the way we must go.”

Daine considered. “The wards should keep any more firebinders from following, but I don’t like the thought of leaving this place unguarded. Pierce …”

“I should accompany the explorers, captain. It is possible that the information I now possess will be needed.”

“Go,” Shen’kar said. “Xu’sasar and I will remain and watch from the shadows. We have fought our battle. Now you must fight yours.”

Daine nodded. “All right, Lakashtai,” he said. “Lead the way.”

“So what kills a hundred giants?”

The hallway was cold and dim. The only source of light was the glowing inscriptions on the walls, and Lei’s efforts in the chamber of gates had caused many of these to fade into darkness.

Lakashtai was in the lead, lighting the way with a cone of light from her eyes-an effect Daine still found unnerving. They’d encountered the corpses of half a dozen giants as they progressed down the hall; one wizard was sprawled on top of a long scroll, a sheet of parchment that must have been eight feet in length. They had been able to avoid most of the corpses, but two guards had fallen side by side, and the explorers had to climb up and over the dried remains.

“I don’t see any signs of violence,” Daine continued, “They’re just … dead.” He had sword and dagger out and ready; the massive corpses raised his hackles, and it was all too easy to imagine that the withered faces were watching them pass.

“The battle they fought came to an end centuries before the final fall of Xen’drik,” Pierce said. “These magi were battling dreams and tampering with the boundaries of the planes themselves. It is dangerous to tamper with reality: I believe that they paid the price, and that those giants who survived the war wisely chose to leave this place as a tomb.”

Lakashtai glanced back at Pierce for a moment. “You seem to know a great deal about the conflict, Pierce. Do you know what was built here?”

“No. My … memories do not extend to the end of the war. I only know of its purpose: a forge to build a weapon to end the war stretching across the dimensions.”

“Let us hope that it did,” Lakashtai said, “and perhaps we’re about to find out.”

The hallway came to an end at a wide archway. A guard lay across the passage; he was wearing a coat of crimson chainmail, and each link was the size of Daine’s hand. An obsidian greatsword lay on the ground next to him, over ten feet in length. Lakashtai leapt over the corpse without even touching it; her strength had returned, and she seemed more alive than she had since they’d left Sharn. Daine wasn’t feeling so spry; he simply ground his teeth and climbed up over the giant’s chest.

The room beyond the arch was smaller than the chamber of gates, but it was no less spectacular. The walls were studded with translucent spheres, ranging from the size of a man’s head to a vast orb that was at least eight feet across. For a moment, Daine thought they were made out of glass, but as he drew closer he realized that they were far too fragile. They were soap-bubbles formed from traces of light, glowing with the faint essence of a dying coal. He almost reached out to touch one, but reason and the memory of eerily untouched corpses triumphed over curiosity.

“What are they?” Lei whispered.

“Dreams,” Pierce and Lakashtai answered together. They glanced at each other, and Pierce inclined his head.

“The purest essence of dreams,” Lakashtai continued. “Every living creature that sleeps has a bond to Dal Quor, and obviously this is a vulnerability to those who would fight the lords of the night. I wonder …” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Could they have been trying to create dreams? To forge an alternate realm, a refuge they could retreat to in the dark hours?”

“Can you hear them?” Lei said. Her voice was sluggish, almost slurred, and Daine turned toward her. Lei’s eyes were distant and confused. “So many voices …”

“Lakashtai?” Daine said, but the kalashtar was already by Lei’s side.

“Hear only my voice,” she whispered. “Set all else aside. Nothing here is real, all is illusion. Hear only my voice and let it return you to the light.”

Lei closed her eyes, her forehead twisting with the effort of thought. Daine and Pierce rushed forward, but Lakashtai held them back with a commanding gesture. The kalashtar leaned in, whispering in Lei’s ear. Her eyes flashed with light, and Lei convulsed for a moment; then she opened her eyes again, breathing deeply. Lakashtai squeezed Lei’s shoulder and stepped back toward Daine.

“She will recover,” Lakashtai said, “but her affinity for this place and the magic of this era is most unusual. Give her a moment of peace.”

Daine glanced over at Lei. “I’m … fine,” she said. She was pale, but she seemed to have regained her composure.

He returned to the study of the room. The fragile spheres covered the walls and ceiling. The center of the chamber was dominated by a dais of opalescent glass-reflective, pale white material lit from within, slowly shifting in color as Daine watched. This altar was ten feet long and six feet high, and two giants were sprawled around it. Standing across the room, they could see that there was something on top of the dais-pieces of broken glass, perhaps a shattered sphere. Whatever it was, it was dull and lifeless, a stark contrast to the gleaming platform.

“There …” Lakashtai breathed. “That is what we have sought. Help Lei climb onto the platform-the end of this quest is at hand.”