Marked for Death

Chapter 44

Kandler wrapped his arms around the changeling’s waist, and she battered at him with her fists as they plummeted through the inky blackness, the wind whipping around them as they fell. The arc of their dive reached the end of the mooring line on the justicar’s belt with a tug that bent him in half and knocked the breath from both of them, but his hold on the changeling never weakened.

The pair’s momentum swung them back and up toward the bottom of the ship’s hull, only feet away from the lower part of the fiery ring. In the blazing light, Kandler could see the changeling’s face clearly for the first time. She was beautiful in her own formless way, her black hair fluttering behind her.

“Release me,” the changeling demanded, “or I cut this line!”

She pushed the edge of her knife against the rope that kept Kandler from following the sword down to his doom. Kandler rammed his head into the changeling’s nose. Red blood spurted onto her ebony skin. He reached up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled the knife away from his lifeline.

“The chase is over,” the justicar said.

Kandler forced the knife around lower, readying it for a stab into the changeling’s exposed side. As he did, he felt something foreign jab into his mind, probing for a weak spot, a switch that would turn him into a drooling madman or a gibbering fool. He fought with everything he could muster, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the psion battered down his defenses and destroyed his mind. Kandler stopped trying to force the knife lower and swung it back up toward the rope instead. It bit into the line above him, splitting some of its vital fibers. The pressure in his head spiked, and he growled like a cornered beast.

“Stop it! These wings won’t hold our weight!” The changeling hissed the words into his ear. “You’ll kill us both!”

“Fine. With. Me.” Kandler spat through gritted teeth. He had let this creature kidnap his daughter once, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it again. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t force her from his mind.

As the pair struggled, they swung back out behind the airship again. A bolt sailed through the air as they hit the apex of their swing. It grazed the changeling’s shoulder, and she howled in pain.

The pressure in Kandler’s head disappeared. He grinned down at the bloodied changeling in his arms as they swung back under the airship again. “It’s over,” he said as he reached up to pull the black knife from the rope so he could finish her off.

The changeling lunged forward in Kandler’s arms and sank her teeth into his neck, biting and tearing like a mad dog. He shrieked and shoved the changeling away from him as hard as he could. The changeling kicked off from the justicar and, free at last, arced backward into an elegant dive. She spread her arms, and her wings unfolded around her. They caught the rushing air and buoyed her up again into the sky. The light of the airship’s ring of fire reflected off the wings for a moment, making her seem like some sort of demon, then the mists swallowed her again. Kandler snarled in frustration.

One of his the rope’s strands popped under his weight. His head snapped up, and he saw the changeling’s knife still stabbed through the rope. With every motion, he pulled the rope against the blade, shredding a few more fibers.

Kandler reached up and grabbed the rope above the knife. Grunting with the effort, he began hauling himself hand over hand up the long line. After a moment, he realized the rope was moving upward, too-and fast.

As the justicar reached for the ship’s railing, a mailed hand met his. Brendis pulled Kandler up and helped him onto the bridge.

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” the young knight said.

Burch and Deothen dropped the end of the rope they’d been hauling on. The shifter reached over and grabbed Kandler into a bear hug. The justicar pounded his friend on the back and grinned.

“Sorry about your sword,” Kandler said to Brendis as Burch let him go. He stuck out a hand to the young knight.

“It was a sacred blade awarded to me by the Council of Cardinals,” Brendis said. “It can never be replaced. But it was lost in a good cause.”

“Yes,” Deothen said as he picked up his own sword from where he’d dropped it on the deck. “You can use the justicar’s for now. He won’t have any use for it.”

Kandler stared at the senior knight. “You can put that away,” he said. “I won’t fight you, but I’m not going back into that hold.”

“The situation has not changed,” Deothen said. “We are still going to Flamekeep.”

Kandler glanced behind the gray-haired knight and saw Esprл huddled in one corner of the bridge with Sallah’s arms around her. The sight warmed his heart, and he smiled. That disappeared as a thought struck him.

“Who’s flying this thing?” he asked, staring at the abandoned wheel.

Esprл pulled herself from Sallah’s arms. “The elemental!” she said through her tears. “It can’t see where it’s going, but if you set your direction and altitude, it can fly all by itself. I figured it-”

One moment Kandler was reaching out to give Esprл’s shoulder a proud squeeze, then the changeling, gliding in on silent wings, swooped down and snatched her away from his outstretched hand. There was only an instant of hesitation as the wings adjusted to the added weight, then both changeling and Esprл disappeared into the night. The girl’s scream echoed in the justicar’s ears long after she was gone.

“Esprл!” Kandler shouted as he dashed toward the airship’s rail. He stared out into the darkness, looking for any sign of the girl or the changeling. All he saw was the mists of the Mournland, now pulsing a sickly red from the light of the airship’s ring of fire. He heard Esprл scream again, but the sound ended horribly short.

“Burch!” Kandler said.

The shifter was already scanning all around, his crossbow hungry for a target.

“Don’t!” the justicar cried. “They’ll both fall to their deaths.”

Burch growled in frustration at the sky. “Doesn’t matter anyhow,” he said. “There’s nothing. She’s gone.”

Kandler cast about desperately. “The changeling can’t get far on those wings,” he said, thinking out loud. “They weren’t strong enough to carry the two of us.”

“You’re a bit larger than your daughter,” Sallah said.

Kandler looked over at the woman. Her face was flushed with shame for letting Esprл get away from her, even though the girl had been walking between the two of them at the time. The lady knight would barely meet the justicar’s glance, but he could see tears of frustration welling in her eyes.

Kandler nodded at Sallah in agreement as he lay a hand on her shoulder in forgiveness. Sallah hadn’t snatched his daughter away.

“You are wounded,” Xalt said to Kandler.

Kandler put his hand to where the changeling had bitten him. It came away wet and red. “Doesn’t matter now,” he said. “We have to go after Esprл.” He looked up at the mists swirling past above as they sailed along and held up his hand to the sky. “Can anyone stop this ship?”

“By the Flame,” Sallah said, “you’re right! We’re being carried farther away with every minute.”

Deothen launched himself at the wheel.

“No one’s been able to fly this thing but Esprл,” Kandler said.

Deothen flashed a grim smile as he gripped the wheel. “I think you’ll find I’m as strong willed as anyone.”

The ship braked to a halt so fast that Kandler found himself nearly thrown from the bridge. He righted himself and stared at the gray-haired knight.

Deothen raised an eyebrow at him and said, “They don’t put just anyone in charge of a mission like this.” He nodded at Sallah. “Get the justicar fixed up. I’ll bring the ship around.”

“But Esprл-!” Kandler started.

“Is out of our hands until dawn,” said the senior knight. “You need to be ready to fight if you’re to help her when we find her again. Get that wound cleaned before it festers. You’re no good to your daughter dead.”

Kandler started to argue with the old man, but the wisdom of his words sunk in. He suddenly realized how tired he was and how much his neck hurt. He climbed down onto the deck, and Sallah knelt down beside him. She reached up and tilted his head away from her, angling his neck so she could see the wound in the light from the ring of fire above. She grazed the opened skin with her fingers, and the justicar winced.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Sallah said. “If she’d bit a little deeper, you’d have bled to death before we could’ve hauled you aboard.”

“If I hadn’t been locked in the hold, this might never have happened,” Kandler said bitterly. He held onto that feeling for a moment before he looked down at Sallah’s face.

Sallah ignored him and concentrated on the wound instead. “He’s a good man in a bad position,” she said.

“That’s how you tell who’s good,” Kandler said. “It’s easy to behave when everything’s going well. Ow!”

“Hold still,” Sallah said. “I want to make sure I get all of this.” She tugged at the collar of Kandler’s shirt to expose every bit of the wound.

“Ouch! Are you sure she wasn’t a vampire too?” Kandler said.

Sallah peered at the wound. “Teeth marks are too even. No sign of fangs.” She lay her hands atop the savaged skin and spoke a solemn prayer to the Silver Flame. Her hands glowed with an argent warmth that spilled into Kandler’s flesh. When she lifted her hands, his skin was whole again.

“Thanks,” Kandler said, looking into her eyes as he rubbed his healed neck with a rough hand.

Sallah returned his gaze. “I’d do the same for anyone.”

“Any of your prisoners?”

Sallah smiled. She stood and wiped her bloodied hands on her white tabard. “Almost anyone.”

“I’m honored,” Kandler said. He glanced back at the bridge and noticed Deothen watching them. When the old man saw that he had caught the justicar’s eye, he beckoned the pair to join the others back on the bridge.

“At my best guess, I’ve brought the ship back around to where we were when Esprл was taken from us,” Deothen said, gazing out into the seamless night. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s much we can do until the dawn.”

Kandler nodded reluctantly.

“Where to then?” Sallah asked. “By morning, the changeling will have had hours to get ahead of us or to hide. She could be anywhere.”

Kandler frowned. “Those wings of hers aren’t all that strong. She’ll be stuck on foot, dragging Esprл along behind her. She’ll need food and water, too, neither of which is easy to find around here. I bet she’d kill for a horse.”

“My best guess?” Burch said. “She’ll head northeast again. The way she was going before we ran into Lady Majeeda’s tower.”

“What’s off in that direction?” Sallah asked.

Kandler shook his head. “I don’t know. Burch and I never made it this far into the Mournland before.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” the lady knight said. “Xalt is the native here.”

The warforged rasped a soft laugh. “Nothing, I fear. This is the Mournland.”

“There has to be something,” Brendis said. “Maybe she went for one of the old lightning rail lines.”

Deothen grunted. “Those haven’t run since the Day of Mourning. They’d be useless to her.”

“There is something that maybe off to the northeast,” Xalt said. “But the changeling couldn’t possibly know about it.”

“She’s a psion,” Kandler said. “A mindreader. If you know about it, there’s a chance she might know about it too. Who knows how long she was in that hold scanning our thoughts?”

Xalt nodded then said one word. “Construct.”

Kandler cocked his head at the warforged. “What’s that?”

“Construct is a town the Lord of Blades founded after the end of the Last War as a warforged settlement. It’s meant to be our capital someday.”

Deothen curled his lip at this. “I’ve heard rumors of this place,” he said. “Different reports have placed it in every part of the Mournland, but no one’s ever been able to confirm them. The place is like a ghost.”

“Almost like it moves,” said Xalt.

Sallah’s eyes grew wide. “It’s a moving city? Like Argonth?”

The warforged nodded.

Burch whistled. “That explains a lot,” he said.

“But how can anyone find such a place?” Brendis asked. “It would be almost impossible.”

“Not if you knew when it was coming,” Kandler said. He looked at Xalt.

“It was scheduled to meet with Superior,” the warforged said, “later today.”