Stardeep

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Stardeep, The Causeway

A fey wind came up, blowing obscuring mist across the Causeway. Streamers of fog advanced, fused, and blotted the landbridge into a cloud of billowing gray-white. The Empyrean Knights and their mounts were leached of their color and faded, too, called back to their commanderies and stables beneath Stardeep.

"Come back!" screamed Kiril at the empty air. She dashed forward, cutting ineffectually at the ice-clogged water with Angul. "Blood!" she coughed, realizing she was too late. Stardeep had pulled back its drawbridge, leaving only the unassailable moat of misted water for her to curse. She obliged.

Stabbing pain in her wounded leg cut short her stream of invectives. Damn Angul for refusing to provide healing. Usually, it was all she could do to fight off his influence. Now that she most needed his balm, he remained dull, unconcerned metal. She savagely shoved the blade in his sheath, a bitter oath in her mouth. She groped for her flask.

The pain in her leg redoubled, pounding as if a spike were being inserted. Blood slicked her calf and clouded the icy water with a scarlet plume. A wave of dizziness pulled at her and she stumbled.

Gage appeared at her side with a supportive arm.

"How is your wound?" he asked, concern turning down the corners of his mouth. The thief's own injury no longer seemed to bother him … Then she saw the glint of a discarded glass vial lying unstoppered and empty along his path.

"Are you blind? What do you think? You could have saved me some of your healing draught," she mumbled. "Help me sit."

The thief lowered her to the ground and said, "Sorry Kiril, I was in a bad way. I didn't think to save any." As Gage's gauntleted right hand guided her to the ground, her sheathed weapon finally sparked and glimmered.

She gave up scrabbling for her flask. Instead, she grasped Angul's hilt. It was just like him. Despite himself, the willful blade couldn't remain quiescent in such close proximity to the hellbred glove. As her fingers slipped around the hilt, warmth suffused her. It suddenly occurred to her that amputating the thief's hand then and there was probably a reasonable course of action.

Above and beyond his fraternization with tools born in hellish dimensions, Gage knew more about the Knights' emergence than he should. What had he said during the heat of the fight? Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked up at him. She gripped her sheathed sword tighter. Angul stanched her blood and fused severed flaps of skin and muscle, knitting them together as if never parted.

When she stood, her strength was renewed, and more. Her eyes burned as she roughly threw off the thief's hand, turning to face him. He realized his peril and backstepped.

Kiril groaned with the mental effort of relinquishing her grip on Angul's hilt. An arc of blue-bright fire persisted a moment, a connection between her hand and the blade, before spitting and snapping into oblivion, burning her palm with petulant fury.

"Not today, Angul," she told the blade, which quivered and audibly groaned, impotent in its leather scabbard.

"Kiril, I-" began Gage.

"Quiet! I need to think," she interrupted. But did she have time for that luxury? Doubtful. Something was terribly wrong within the bastions of her old home. How could she come to any other conclusion when the bodies of wood elves lay in shallow graves before the Causeway, and its once doughty defenders attacked former Keepers?

She mentally reached out, feeling for the planar veil and the access points that would flip the Causeway open once more-and found nothing. The Causeway Gate had been sealed from within, and no external force, not even a Keeper, could access it until those inside decided otherwise.

The half-elf martial warrior and his sorcerous companion approached. Where had they come from, and what would they demand of her? Too many thoughts competed for her attention. She didn't need any more complications. She was close to breaking. Maybe a sip from her flask would do the trick. She grabbed the enchanted container, easily unclipping it now that Angul had mended her …

No.

No! She shook her head, so violently she saw flashes of light.

No. If Nangulis had somehow, beyond all reason, returned to Stardeep, dulled wits wouldn't pave the road to that reunion. Quite the opposite. Better just to run herself through here and now than allow her decade-old habit to sabotage her, on the cusp of comprehension. Kiril returned her flask to her belt.

The strangers bowed their heads in greeting. Their unforeseen aid had turned the tables, or at least preserved her life long enough until someone within Stardeep pulled back the Knights. Perhaps the newcomers had answers, if Gage didn't. The half-elf, the one who'd fought with only his hands-his skin and hair were dark for an elf, and his features possessed a cast and shape unfamiliar to her. Yet his likeness reminded her somehow of the Sild?yuir realm.

She addressed the newcomers. "What do you know of this debacle?"

Gage held up a gauntleted hand to point. "Be easy, strangers. But answer the question."

The half-elf spoke. "I am Raidon Kane. My companion is Adrik Commorand. Who are you?"

Kiril shook her head. "All in good time. I have a legitimate reason to stand here. I acknowledge the aid you provided and am in your debt, but I would know how you came to be here, and why?"

Raidon nodded. He said, "Mounted elves of stern visage, like those we just faced, rode from across the misted water to attack an expedition of some dozens of elves we accompanied, including a sizeable contingent known as the Masters of the Yuirwood. Adrik and I numbered among the survivors. When the defeated remnants of that force departed, Adrik and I lingered."

"Why did these so-called masters approach Stardeep?"

Raidon responded, "Stardeep? Is that the realm beyond the water?"

Kiril said, "Yes, though calling Stardeep a 'realm' is inaccurate-it is much smaller." To speak so to strangers broke rules she'd sworn as a Keeper. Too bad-if these were agents of the Traitor, she would end their days soon enough.

The half-elf, his voice serene and strangely composed, said, "Some tendays now past, mail-clad elves of unfamiliar demeanor rode forth from this location and exterminated a nearby wood elf encampment. The Masters sent a retaliatory force, thinking to extract vengeance, and perhaps seal the portal from whatever realm of discord the murderers originated."

Kiril swore, "Bastard sons of whores!" Raidon cocked his head at her outburst. Adrik took an involuntary step back.

The Empyrean Knights were now striking out into the sun-warmed world to commit genocide? She couldn't grasp the man's story; she didn't want to believe it. If he spoke the truth, then the worst may have already happened. The Traitor must have escaped his bonds and taken control of Stardeep's forces. But if that were true, wouldn't she know? Though a Keeper in exile, she retained sensitivities born in her years of service to the Cerulean Sign. Somehow, she thought she'd know if the Traitor ever completely slipped his bonds.

She controlled her voice enough to ask, "And you are one of these Masters of the Yuirwood?"

Raidon shook his head. "Neither I nor my companion are native. I've been on the road for some time, a road that has led me here, where I hope to find answers concerning the whereabouts of my absent mother."

So saying, the half-elf drew an amulet from beneath his shirt and brandished it for Kiril to see.

She gasped, "Where did you get that?"

Kiril could scarcely credit what flashed before her in the afternoon light: a Seal of the Cerulean Sign. Thirty-six Seals once were known, or perhaps double that; Keeper histories were confused and incomplete. But the knowledge of their making was certainly lost, and as the centuries blurred forward, more and more Seals went missing, were stolen, or were consumed in use. In recent times only a single one remained to Stardeep, the one Nangulis had worn in his vigil over the Well. When Nangulis was transformed and Kiril left Stardeep, she'd left the amulet with Commander Brathtar to pass to the next Keeper of the Inner Bastion.

Raidon said, "This was given to me by my absent mother, before she returned to her people, who she claimed lived in the Yuirwood. I have followed signs and clues that led here, where I hope to match the symbol on the amulet with that said to be scribed on the gates of what you call Stardeep."

Kiril reached out her hand for the amulet. After a moment of consideration, Raidon relinquished the stone. She peered at its convoluted textures, the Sign displayed so prominently, and along both sides, looking for the telltale marks that would identify it. No. It was not the same Seal Nangulis had carried; it must be one of the earlier Seals, returned from history's obscuring grasp.

And it was dark. The amulet Nangulis had carried had been sky blue. She wondered if the color was a mute warning of the Traitor's activity. Too late in coming, if so.

Kiril looked up and met Raidon's anxious eyes. "You carry an extraordinary relic. She who gave this to you-who was she?"

The man shook his head. "I know not. I called her Mother. She left me when I was a child. Now that I'm grown, I've sworn to find her."

"She was an elf," Kiril stated. "Your father, a human?"

Raidon nodded. "He was an honorable man. I had not realized prior to a few tendays ago my mother was a wood elf of the Yuirwood."

Kiril raised a single eyebrow. "Your looks argue against that, not to mention you carry a Seal unlikely to have originated in the Yuirwood. I doubt she was a wood elf of the wood. No, she came from somewhere else."

The half-elf squinted at her, his face framing a question.

She continued, "She came from a realm behind the Yuirwood, a place called Sild?yuir."

"Another name for Stardeep? She is one of these murdering elves?"

"No. Stardeep is a splinter of Sild?yuir, long disconnected from it. Elves dwell in that starry land-I am one. And they are not a murdering people. Normally." Kiril glanced at the blood still staining her leg.

She allowed, "Something awful has happened, I fear …"

Kiril swung to face Gage. "Tell me what you know about Stardeep."

Gage swallowed, turned pale. But he nodded.

"Kiril, Sathra did steal your sword, as I explained. And only because of my efforts was it returned to you. Please remember that while you listen to the rest of my tale."

She gave a fractional nod of her head. "Time is not on our side-out with it, thief."

He swallowed, a blush heating his checks. "Sathra took your sword, but it wasn't she who worked for Stardeep-it was me. I was the spy.."

Kiril backhanded Gage so hard he spun and fell. Adrik the sorcerer took another step back, concern growing on his face. A high-pitched bell tolled from a nearby treetop; Xet was concerned about what might follow the slap.

Gage lay where he fell for a moment, rubbing his jaw. He coughed and spit out a bloody tooth. Kiril didn't much care. She said, "I knew you lied when you said you'd killed Sathra, you bastard."

The thief slowly sat up, but didn't stand. Anger threaded his voice, but he replied, "You were justified in doing that. Now, are you planning on hitting me again, or do you want to hear my story?"

"I thought you were my friend!" Gage's betrayal was the oil that fueled her fury.

He looked down. "I made a terrible mistake, Kiril. I am your friend, or would like to be, if you can forgive me."

She wanted to strike him again, oh yes. Pick him up and throw him, kick him. Eradicate him from her memory. Instead she said, "What about Nangulis? Was that a lie, too?"

Gage levered himself to his feet and backed off a pace before replying. "My contact from Stardeep was someone named Telarian. A male elf. In Laothkund he offered me a contract to steal a meaningless sword from a drunken swordswoman. That was before we ever met. If I had known-"

"I asked you about Nangulis, thief!" yelled Kiril. Rage burned her stomach; acid gave an unpleasant tang to the back of her mouth.

Gage rubbed his reddening jaw, said, "After we met, I realized I couldn't carry the blade myself, due to Angul's unique nature. So I sent word to Telarian-"

"How?"

"Telarian had a drop box set up in Laothkund. After I reported my failure, I was contacted again, and told to let slip the name Nangulis. I was to implicate Nangulis as the person who wanted the blade. Telarian said that would draw you to Stardeep without need for Angul's theft."

"Nangulis didn't contact you at all?"

"No, Kiril. I'm sorry."

The ex-Keeper put a hand to her brow. Was hope dead anew? She couldn't trust the thief, that was obvious. But Nangulis's name was in play. Who was this Telarian? Wait, she recalled someone named Telarian … a diviner among the Knights. Toward the end, he had taken vows to learn the duties of the Outer Bastion. Now that she thought about it, Cynosure itself had indicated the diviner possessed exceptional talent and a strategic mind.

"This Telarian-did he call himself a Keeper?"

"Not in my hearing, Kiril."

"He must have become one, in my absence."

Gage shrugged apologetically.

Kiril said, "A Keeper corrupted, though, by the Traitor! Why does he want Angul? Or is it that the Traitor stirs in the Well and Telarian requires the Blade Cerulean to quench the effort? Why then, did he not simply tell me? I would have come."

Well, then again, perhaps she wouldn't have responded. She had washed her hands pretty thoroughly of Stardeep when she'd fled. Washed them in the blood of innocents.

What if the new Keepers of Stardeep feared her, and didn't want her homicidal help, only her blade? The last anyone in the hidden fortress had seen her, she'd been crazed and murderous. Perhaps they had sent the Knights against her to protect themselves.

No. Regardless of how her guilt attempted to fix her with all the blame, earned or unearned, the Knights' slaughter of the wood elf encampment and the subsequent murderous rebuff of the Masters of the Yuirwood happened before she ever returned to the Causeway. That argued for the Traitor's influence, if not his actual presence, loose in Stardeep. The vows forsaken when she'd fled struggled now in her breast, fluttering long unused wings.

And what if Nangulis truly had returned?

Kiril muttered, "I must gain entry! But the gates are closed, and I can't reopen them. I'll have to go the long way 'round…"

She turned to address the barehand fighter, Raidon Kane. "You are welcome to accompany me, half-elf. I don't know if we can find your mother, but it seems clear she was of the starry realm, and I must journey through Sild?yuir in order to enter Stardeep from beneath. I saw how you fought. Few I know could stand against you, and you didn't even draw your blade. I could use your help."

Raidon responded, "I shall not rest until I find my mother, or what became of her. Can Stardeep provide what I seek?"

Kiril said, "Your mother's possession of a Seal of the Cerulean Sign indicates a connection with the dungeon stronghold. Within Stardeep is an archive that names each of the original Seals, their owners, and when and where they were lost, if known. Perhaps those texts will provide the lead you require. Help me gain entry, and you can peruse them in full."

"My path seems destined to lead to Stardeep. I accept your invitation," replied the monk.

So saying, Raidon turned to his companion. "Adrik, your commission concluded some time ago. Thank you for remaining when the others retreated. Return to Relkath's Foot, and from there, seek your brother in Emmech. He must wonder what has become of you. Go with my thanks."

The sorcerer shook his head. "As you say, I've already outstayed the service for the coin you paid. Since my contract is concluded, I can do as I please. I'm coming with you, if you'll have me."

Adrik glanced at Kiril and continued. "Dip me in honey and set me to run through the Great Wild Wood if I pass up an opportunity to find the ancient realm hidden behind the menhirs of Yuirwood! My brother'd boil me in formalin if he found out I turned my back on such a chance. I-"

Kiril raised an arm. "You're welcome to join me as well. I saw you hurl fire like a warmage. If the Traitor's minions stand in our way, we'll have use of such talent."

Adrik beamed.

"Very well," interjected Gage, "I'll get our packs. How do we get to Sil-"

"No. You are not coming with us." Kiril pointed south. "Leave the forest-the closest border is that way. No way I'd let a blood-flecking backstabber accompany me into the starry realm, and into Stardeep itself."

"I've come clean with you, Kiril. I've told you the truth!"

"Which is the only reason you're not dead, despite Angul's wishes to the contrary. Get out of my sight before I change my mind, you damned liar."

"You need me! I've talked to Telarian, and he'll recognize me. We could trick him into-"

"I said no, thief. You dealt with Telarian, and perhaps you still have a deal. Just how gullible do you think I am? For all I know, you're playing a deeper game than I can pierce, even now. I'm done talking about this."

So saying, she walked forward, her left shoulder roughly shoving Gage to the side as she swept past him.

"You two, follow me. We can't waste any more time than we already have."

Kiril led Raidon Kane and Adrik Commorand away from the shore of the misted Chabala. The three figures melted into a line of short pines. The high-flying crystal dragonet darted a glance at the thief, who stood alone on the icy shore, unmoving, then flew after its mistress.

Gage picked up his pack and turned away from the Mere. Shoulders stooped, head down, he stumbled through the leafless glades of the Yuirwood, alone. His long strides ate the distance, but without companionship, the way ahead seemed long. Time spent in conversation passes more swiftly than the same span spent in self-loathing doubt and second-guessing.

And when his journey was concluded, it would be at Laothkund's gate. Back to the cold city walls and slick rooftops. Quick thefts, quicker escapes, and finding a fence trustworthy enough to unload his take. Repeat. Only another fabulous heist away from a month-long parry with fifty of his closest friends. .

Friends who'd lose interest when the money ran out.

The only one who'd never cared who was buying had been Kiril. And he'd rewarded her by trying to steal the only remaining thing in her life about which she cared.

"By the Queen of Air!" he swore. Gage paused beneath the bole of a hoary old evergreen.

It came down to the kind of man he wanted to be. He looked at his gauntleted hand. The demonic mouth drooled, its teeth working. It whispered, "One day I'll have your soul, you know." He frowned, shook his head.

"Don't put off what you've already decided," he muttered to himself. He turned and traced his own trail back to the edge of the Mere. There, plain as day, was the trail in the snow left by those who'd cast him aside.

"I'll show her who she can trust, and who she can't!" he promised.

His gauntlet growled, maybe in protest, perhaps in agreement, or possibly because it had not supped on blood in over a tenday.