The Grieving Tree

CHAPTER 16

A grunt and rapid footsteps were all the warning that Singe had. Dah’mir’s gaze focused past him and the dragon roared in frustration. Herons rose into the sky in a flurry of black wings. Up so close, the sound was deafening. Singe staggered against it, but managed to twist around in time to see Ashi dart down one of the side corridors that opened off the long hall, carrying Dandra-dazed from even the brief exposure to Dah’mir’s awe-inspiring presence-over her shoulder. The hunter had the right idea. Singe’s rapier felt like a toy in his hand, the most powerful spell at his disposal a candleflame.

“Run!” he shouted at Natrac and Orshok.

But it was already too late for them. Dah’mir’s roar fell silent and even over the ringing in his ears, Singe heard the rasp of the dragon’s inhaled breath. Dread pierced him. Dah’mir’s head whipped forward and his mouth opened. Singe whirled, trying to cover his face as if that would protect him from the dragon’s acid venom. Except that no acid came-instead of searing liquid, Dah’mir’s breath billowed around them, warm and wet. The taste of copper seeped into Singe’s mouth and nostrils and across his tongue. Abruptly the air seemed thick. It dragged on him, impeding his every sluggish move. He turned back, looked up.

Orshok and Natrac had been caught in the dragon’s strange breath as well. They moved with such agonizing slowness that it looked almost as if they were swimming. By comparison, Dah’mir’s movements were fluid and lightning fast. Even his voice crackled in Singe’s ears, bellowing frustration turned sharp and staccato.

Further down the hall, Chuut and half a dozen other ogres burst out from one of the side corridors, weapons drawn and alarm on their faces-alarm that only grew deeper at the sight of Dah’mir in the courtyard. One of the ogres gave a yelp of terror and staggered back, but Tzaryan was already shouting terse orders in the ogres’ deep language. Chuut recovered himself with the discipline of House Deneith training. Slapping at his squad, he drove them on across the hall and toward the corridor down which Ashi had turned.

Herons were settling back onto the walls of the courtyard. Robrand was still standing frozen against the door he had opened, staring at Dah’mir in shock. His mouth worked in silent motion before he managed to force out words. “Dol Dorn’s mighty fist-!”

“Collect yourself, General!” said Tzaryan. “Dah’mir is our guest.” The ogre mage turned to the dragon. “My ogres will bring them back. They won’t escape.”

“See that they don’t.” Dah’mir’s head turned. “Don’t just stand there. This lethargy won’t last long. Seize them!”

To Dah’mir’s left, two figures emerged from the shadows to reach for Natrac and Orshok. One was Vennet, though the half-elf’s bloodstained clothes and bright, mad eyes scarcely matched Singe’s last glimpse of him. Behind him was Chain, freed from his cell in the dungeon. And to Dah’mir’s right …

A cold sweat broke out on Singe’s skin. At first all he saw were licking, flickering flames and glowing embers, stark against the night, then he saw past the brightness. He stared at a burning corpse, risen from ashes. And not just any corpse. Tongues of flame took the place of tendrils and tentacles. Charred flesh marked hollows in an eyeless face. Below them, a thin mouth twisted in hate.

“No,” Singe croaked. “You’re dead.”

Hruucan lunged forward, fiery shoulder tentacles lashing through the air. Singe tried to raise his rapier. He could feel the sluggishness inflicted by Dah’mir’s breath already starting to pass, but Hruucan had been faster than him before and now he seemed to move like the wind. One extended tentacle whirled past Singe’s face. The wizard lifted his rapier higher-and the other tentacle slammed across his belly.

The ring that he wore on his left hand glittered greedily, devouring the heat of the flame before it could burn him, just as it had protected him from the fiery spell he had used to kill the dolgaunt. There was more than fire in Hruucan’s blow, though. The tentacle punched into his gut and seemed to wrench something out of him. A sudden flash of weakness that he felt in his very core sent him staggering back. Hruucan’s tentacles whirled up for another strike.

“Hruucan!” snapped Dah’mir. The dragon’s wings flapped and furled, sending a gust of wind across the courtyard. His herons stirred in an echo of his irritation. “I said seize, not attack!”

The dolgaunt froze like a serpent. “I’ve waited, Dah’mir! Give me my revenge!”

“Wait a little longer,” Dah’mir said.

Singe saw Robrand swallow, then dart forward. With swift efficiency, he grabbed Singe’s arm before anyone else could. Still reeling from the dolgaunt’s attack, Singe couldn’t put up any resistance. Robrand seized his arm and twisted it in a lock-for a moment bringing his lips close to Singe’s ear.

“I didn’t know about this!” he whispered quickly. “Dol Arrah’s oath, Etan, I swear it!”

Singe forced himself to suck in breath. “Help us!” he answered in a soft gasp. When Robrand reached for his rapier to disarm him, he let him take it.

“I have this one, my lord,” the old man said out loud. Tzaryan nodded his approval. Hruucan hissed, but backed down.

Chain had Orshok in his grasp and the druid’s hunda stick was on the ground. Vennet held Natrac at the end of his cutlass. His eyes flashed merrily. “Like old times, Natrac,” he said. “I like the knife. Very ingenious.”

“Da ga shek erat,” Orshok snarled.

Vennet’s face hardened. “Watch your tongue. I’d be happy to set you up for a matching set of cutlery.”

He fell silent as a rumble grew out of Dah’mir’s belly. The dragon rose and paced forward. Singe could feel every footfall through the stone floor. Dah’mir looked down on them. “There’s one unaccounted for,” he said. “Where’s Geth?”

Tzaryan repeated Robrand’s news of Geth’s flight with Ekhaas. The rumble deepened. “Find him for me, Tzaryan,” said Dah’mir. “I owe him a special debt.” He lowered his head until his eyes stared into Singe’s. “It was a mistake coming here, Singe. Once I learned where you were going, I knew exactly what you were trying to do.”

Singe shivered as Dah’mir’s acrid breath whispered across his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Orshok turn pale. “How did you know we were coming here?” the young orc asked. There was fear in his face. Singe felt an echo of it. Who knew they had been headed to Tzaryan Keep-or even that they were looking for the Spires of the Forge? Had Dah’mir found Bava after all? Had he somehow tracked down Batul and Krepis?

Vennet answered for the dragon. “A good sailor obeys his captain,” he said. His lips twitched slightly. “Karth was a good sailor in the end.”

The crusted blood that stained Vennet’s clothes. “Lightning on Water …” Singe breathed.

Vennet turned his smile on him. “… never made it to Sharn,” he finished for him. “Although I’m sure Marolis still had her on course right up until I split him open.”

Dread and disgust squeezed Singe’s chest. “Twelve moons, Vennet, your own crew? Your ship?”

“A ship?” Vennet’s voice rose and broke. “What need do I have of a ship when soon I’ll have command of the wind itself?” He shrugged with his free arm and his open shirt slipped down to expose part of his shoulders and back. “Do you see the power of the Dragon Below? My dragonmark grows. By the blessing of the master of my master, I will bear the Siberys Mark of Storm!”

Singe felt Robrand stiffen and mutter a curse of disgust. Orshok looked away. The bright pattern of Vennet’s dragonmark was red and inflamed, as if he had been scratching at it. Patches were crusted with scabs. An open sore over his shoulder blade oozed thin liquid and pus. If the mark had actually grown, though, Singe couldn’t see it.

Dah’mir’s blunt muzzle opened in something like a grin. “I hope you found what you were looking for in Taruuzh Kraat. Do you think it was worth the price?”

A spark of anger rekindled itself in Singe’s gut. He clenched his jaw and met the dragon’s gaze with grim determination. “We found Marg’s device and his ravings. We know Taruuzh’s story.” He narrowed his eyes and added, “We know that the magic of the binding stone is the same magic that defeated the Master of Silence. Your master.”

Less than an armslength from his face, teeth larger than knives clashed together. “Ironic,” Dah’mir said, “isn’t it? My master’s servants will be born from his defeat.”

Singe forced himself to stand tall when every instinct urged him to cower. “The binding stone that Marg made is broken. Dandra smashed it.”

“So I have found.” Dah’mir’s eyes shone. “But I studied the great stone for two hundred years. I understand the magic better than Marg ever did and I have centuries more to perfect it. I will create another.”

“If you could,” said Singe, “you would have already.”

Dah’mir reared back with a furious roar. Hruucan looked enraged at Singe’s defiance. His fiery tentacles struck the air like angry serpents and he lunged forward, but one of Dah’mir’s thick legs slammed down between him and Singe with such force that the stones underfoot cracked. Hruucan reeled away. Singe staggered, falling back against Robrand. Dah’mir glared down at him. “I didn’t have Dandra and Tektashtai to study before.”

Singe swallowed and staggered back to his feet. “You still don’t!”

“Be glad of that,” Dah’mir said, grinding the words between his teeth, “or I would already have given you to Hruucan.”

The sound of heavy running echoed from the side corridor down which Chuut and his squad had pursued Ashi and Dandra. Moments later, the ogres burst into the long hall. Dandra and Ashi weren’t with them. Chuut slid to a stop and dropped to one knee before Tzaryan. “My lord, they tricked us. We lost them.”

For a moment, Singe felt a surge of hope. Dah’mir’s growl rumbled on the air. Tzaryan looked furious-and embarassed. “General, take command. I’ll take charge of your prisoner,” the ogre mage said, striding forward. Singe’s heart froze as he reached for him. “Turn the patrols you have looking for Ekhaas and Geth and set them after Dandra and Ashi. I want the keep searched-”

“No,” said Dah’mir.

Tzaryan paused in midstride. “Dah’mir?”

“Searching will take too much time. I want Dandra found now.” The dragon eased himself back. His eyes flashed. “Chain!”

The big man flinched. Dah’mir glared at him. “Earn your rescue. You carry the Mark of Finding-find me Dandra!”

Dandra was dimly aware of the corridor that Ashi ran down, twisting and turning around corners, flashing from torchlight to shadow and back to torchlight. She was somewhat more aware of the discomfort as the hunter’s shoulder dug into her belly with each swift pace. She also knew that Singe and the others weren’t with them-that while Ashi’s quick reactions might have saved the two of them, the others had been left behind to face Dah’mir’s wrath, caught by Tzaryan’s treachery. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, though. The farther they fled from Dah’mir, the more her head cleared, sloughing off the shroud of the dragon’s influence. Unfortunately, her release was Tetkashtai’s release as well.

She felt like a tiny vessel on the middle of an ocean storm as her creator raged around her. Tetkashtai! Dandra shouted, trying to calm her down. Tetkashtai!

Her thoughts were butterflies to the hurricane of Tetkashtai’s terror and Dandra felt a flash of fear herself. Back in Zarash’ak, she’d told Singe that every episode of panic seemed to take the presence closer to the brink of true madness. Abandoning any effort to soothe Tetkashtai, she wrenched herself away. Or attempted to. It was like trying to rip a limb from between the teeth of a beast. Tetkashtai shrieked, dragging her back. In desperation, Dandra drew up a memory of Dah’mir-acid-green eyes shining-and flung it at her.

Tetkashtai’s screams rose and she flinched back. Dandra slammed the gates of her mind, trappping the presence outside them. Echoes of Tetkashtai’s terror rang in her ears. Dandra threw her will against them and blocked them out. For a moment, her thoughts were her own.

And she realized that Ashi’s footsteps weren’t the only ones she could hear.

Dandra raised her head and tried to look behind them. Far back, a squad of ogres swung around a corner. One-Chuut, she realized-saw them and let out a deep shout.

“Il-Yannah,” Dandra cursed. She twisted around in Ashi’s grip. “Ashi! Let me down!”

“Wait.” Dandra whirled in the air as Ashi slid around another corner-

— and came to a sharp stop. “Rond betch!” she spat and swung Dandra off her shoulder. Dandra turned around and stared.

The passage continued on but the torches they had followed were gone. The corridor ahead was pitch dark. To their right, stairs plunged down into darkness as well. To their left, a stout door stood closed. Ashi snarled and whirled, staring at their options with wild eyes. “We can’t go on. Even if we had a torch, the ogres would see the light!”

Dandra spun to the door, reaching for the handle. There was no way of knowing what lay beyond it, but at least it was a hiding place-but if the ogres didn’t see a light retreating down either the darkened hallway or the stairs, wouldn’t the door be the first place they’d look? Her hand dropped. She turned back to Ashi. A glance at the hunter’s face told her that she had realized the same thing.

Ashi had her spear clutched in her hand. She thrust it at her and Dandra took it, raising her chin in determination. Ashi bared her teeth and drew her sword, the bright blade shining in the dim light. Neither of them said anything. The pounding footsteps of their pursuers closed in. Dandra moved to face the turn in the corridor, stepping up onto the air and skimming the ground, ready to fight. Raising a hand, she reached into herself to call up the fierce energy of whitefire. The first ogre around the corner was going to burn.

Instead of whitefire’s droning chorus, all that filled her was Tetkashtai’s mad terror. It lanced through her, tearing a gasp from her throat as she fought it back. She stumbled, her feet dropping hard to the ground. Ashi’s hand whipped out and caught her before she could fall.

“Dandra!”

Dandra shook her head, struggling to clear her mind. “It’s Tetkashtai!” She tried to summon the concentration to lift herself off the ground once more, but the presence was like a drowning person, dragging on her mind. Dandra beat her back, but yellow-green light seemed to force itself into the corners of her eyes. Through the glare, she saw Ashi swing toward the sound of the approaching ogres like a cornered animal.

To their side, the door that they had seen and rejected as a hiding place swung open. Ekhaas leaned out through the door frame, gesturing for them. “Inside! Quickly!”

Ashi snarled, but Dandra shoved her toward the door. She felt no trust for the hobgoblin, but Ekhaas was no friend to the treacherous Tzaryan Rrac-and if Robrand was right, at least Geth had found some reason to set her free. “In!”

“The ogres will look in here!” the hunter said.

“No, they won’t.” Ekhaas reached out and grabbed her arm, hauling her through the door. Dandra slipped through on her heels. The hobgoblin held the door open for a moment longer. Her free hand gestured and Dandra caught a snatch of deep, swelling song. Two flickering lights flared over her palm. With a quick motion, Ekhaas hurled them into the darkness of the hallway, then pulled the door almost shut, leaving it open just enough to peer out. Through that thin crack, Dandra could just see Ekhaas’s lights receeding down the dark passage-exactly like torches carried by running fugitives.

The sound of heavy footsteps and ogre voices filled the corridor outside. Dandra heard Chuut give another shout and order the ogres onward. In moments, their pursuers had hurtled past them.

“Quickly,” said Ekhaas. “We don’t have much time. The lights won’t last long. Down the stairs. Take my hand and I’ll guide you.” She pushed the door wide, then reached back and grabbed something from the shadows. The dim light in the hallway struck flashes of purple from a heavy byeshk sword. Geth’s sword.

Fear and anger rose in Dandra’s throat. Her spear darted forward, point quivering a finger’s width from Ekhaas’s side. “What’s going on here?” Dandra hissed. “Where’s Geth? The General said he and you fled together!”

Ekhaas didn’t move, though her yellow eyes narrowed and her ears twitched back. “The General lies. Geth is in Tzaryan’s dungeon-with Lor.”

Dandra blinked. Ekhaas’s breath hissed. She pushed Dandra’s spear away, then stretched out her hand. Out of sight down the corridor, ogre voices rose in confusion. Ekhaas’s ears flicked. “Decide! Geth is in danger. You have my word on that.”

Dandra glanced at Ashi. The hunter’s eyes were hard and suspicious, but she nodded. Dandra clenched her teeth and took Ekhaas’s hand. “We’re all in danger.”

“Be silent until I tell you it’s safe.” Ekhaas led them-Dandra’s hand in hers, Ashi’s hand on the shaft of Dandra’s spear-across the corridor and down the stairs. The light of the hallway vanished. In the dark, the oversized steps of the stairs were even more treacherous, but Ekhaas descended with rapid urgency. They reached the bottom just as the sound of Chuut and his ogres echoed again along the corridor above. Ekhaas shoved Dandra and Ashi back against a wall and let go off Dandra’s hand. Once again, the hobgoblin sang and two more tongues of flame, identical to the first two, appeared above her palm. This time, however, the flick of Ekhaas’s hand left them hanging in the air at the bottom of the stairs. Dandra choked back a curse. Ekhaas was going to draw the ogres right to them!

Up above, harsh words became excited at the sight of the flames below. Footsteps started down the stairs-only to stop at a command from Chuut. An argument erupted, then ended with the sound of a closed fist on a thick skull. Chuut growled another command and heavy footsteps charged away, back along the corridor in the direction they had all first come.

In the lights of the flames, Dandra could see Ekhaas’s face. Her ears stood high and she looked pleased with herself. From behind Dandra, Ashi said softly, “Are you mad? You almost brought them right after us!”

Ekhaas gave a disdainful snort. “You don’t speak their language, do you? For an ogre, Chuut is smart-but not that smart. I knew he’d think the lights were just another distraction. We’re safe for now.”

“If we’re safe,” Dandra said, “I want an explanation now. What’s going on?”

“Listen while we move.” Ekhaas moved away from the wall and started along the lower hallway. The dancing lights she had brought into being moved with her, forcing Dandra and Ashi to stay with her as well or be left behind in the dark.

By the smell in the air, Dandra could tell that they were back in the hallway that led to the ogre barracks. She tried to keep her eyes and ears on the shadows ahead, but as Ekhaas swiftly told them what had happened in the dungeon-of Vennet’s sudden appearance and Geth’s attempt to warn them, of Robrand’s treachery-she found all of her attention on the hobgoblin. Ekhaas’s story left her with a sickening hollow in her stomach.

“He was going to torture Geth?” she asked finally.

“By the six kings, I swear it. It sounded like the General wanted revenge on him for something. Maybe the same thing you argued with him about.”

“Why did you take his sword?” asked Ashi.

“It’s a relic of Dhakaan. I would die rather than let it fall into Tzaryan’s hands.” She raised at the sword, studying it by the light of dancing flames. “It belongs in the vaults of the Kech Volaar. I should have fled with it.”

“But you didn’t,” Dandra said. “Why? And why help us?”

Ekhaas was silent for a moment, then replied, “Geth told me he brought this sword out of Jhegesh Dol and used it to fight the dragon servant of the Master of Silence. Is that true?”

Dandra frowned, trying to guess why the hobgoblin was asking. “It’s true,” she said.

“Then your blond friend was wrong to call Geth a coward. No coward could wield this blade-and heroes shouldn’t die in chains. Geth won the sword. It belongs to him now.” Ekhaas’s voice tightened with disgust. “If I took it, I would be a thief. It must be returned to him.” She looked over her shoulder. “Finding help to free Geth just made going back easier. I know a way out of the keep, but I didn’t relish fighting Lor on my own.”

“You only rescued us so we could help you rescue Geth?” asked Ashi.

Ekhaas’s lips curled. “You are less important than what you can do, chaat’oor.” Her ears twitched. “Although I would enjoying knowing what you did to offend Tzaryan Rrac.”

“Nothing.” Dandra ground her teeth together. “Tzaryan betrayed us. Dah’mir is here.”

Ekhaas’s pace faltered for a moment. “Khaavolaar. The dragon? And the rest of you …?”

“Dead? Captives? I don’t know.” Dandra drew a breath. “This way out of Tzaryan Keep-can you get us all out? Geth, me, and Ashi?”

The words hurt her, left her feeling cold and sick. Fleeing the keep meant leaving Singe, Natrac, and Orshok behind-if they were still alive-but they didn’t have much choice. She had no defense against Dah’mir’s power, especially with Tetkastai still pounding at her mind as well. Even Ashi and Geth had little hope against the dragon. They needed to regroup, to find out what was going on, before they could come up with a way to rescue the others.

Ekhaas’s ears flicked back. “My price is your story. Tell me how Dah’mir stole Marg’s stone and what he did with it.”

“Done.” Dandra felt like a coward.

Just ahead, the glow of torchlight marked the head of another flight of stairs-the stairs down to the dungeon. Ekhaas gestured and her lights vanished. The hobgoblin switched Geth’s sword to her left hand and drew her own sword with her right, then crept softly down the stairs. Dandra could hear sounds drifting up from the dungeon: labored breathing, the slow grinding of a blade. She tightened her hand around the shaft of her spear and followed with Ashi at her side.

The door of the cell that had held Ekhaas was open and though a torch in one of the brackets on the wall outside cast the interior into shadow, Dandra recognized Lor’s broad back as he crouched over his victim.

The sound of the grinding blade slowed, then stopped. Lor bent down. Ekhaas moved to the open doorway, her sword raised.

With unexpected speed, Lor ducked his head and reared up on his hands like a kicking horse. His thick legs shot back and slammed into Ekhaas’s chest in a powerful kick that sent the hobgoblin staggering back. Lor twisted and rolled to his feet, a gleaming knife clutched in one hand, a whetstone in the other giving weight to his fist. He leaped out of the cramped space of the cell and charged, knife slashing, fist swinging.

Ashi pushed past Dandra and surged forward to meet him, her pierced lips twisted in a snarl. Lor punched at her with his left fist, but the hunter just spun inside the reach of his outstretched arm and thrust-once-hard with her sword.

Lor blinked, looked down at the hilt of the blade jammed between his ribs and up into his heart, and toppled over. Ashi grabbed his arm and pulled, twisting him around so that he fell back against a wall instead of face down on the floor. His incredulous expression ended up fixed on the ceiling. Beyond them, Ekhaas rose, one hand clutching her side, her face almost as astounded.

Ashi stared into Lor’s unblinking eyes. “So that was fighting an ogre,” she said-then snorted. “I was expecting something more.”

There was a cry from the cell. “Ashi?” Chains scraped and rattled. “Ashi, help.”

Geth’s voice, but tight and strained. Dandra shoved Ashi to one side and sprinted for the cell, then caught herself on the doorframe. “Light of il-Yannah!”

Geth sat on the floor of the cell, chained by the neck just as Ekhaas had been when they’d found her, but with his arms chained and stretched up over his head as well. His legs had been tied down to keep him from kicking. He was barechested, his great-gauntlet, coat and shirt stripped off and tossed in a corner. The thick hair on the shifter’s torso made it difficult to see the full extent of his injuries, but it didn’t look like Lor had started to use his knife on him. Geth held himself awkwardly, though, and his breathing sounded painful. Blood matted the hair on his head and turned his face into a sticky mask. One eye was swollen shut. The other, hazy with pain, fixed on her and cleared sharply.

Geth drew a shuddering breath. “Dandra! Run! Vennet’s here. Dah’mir can’t be-”

Dandra pressed her lips together and stepped all the way into the cell. “We know,” she said. “He’s here. Tzaryan betrayed us. Ashi and I barely escaped. Dah’mir’s strong again, Geth. That shard you shattered in his chest-it’s been replaced.”

Geth sagged a little. “What about Orshok? Natrac?” His voice seemed to catch. “Singe?”

She shook her head. “We’re going to have to try and come back for them.”

The shifter groaned. His head fell forward. “I tried to warn you, but Robrand. He and Chuut ambushed me.”

“We know that, too.”

Geth raised his head to look at her, then his eye went past her and opened wide. Dandra looked over her shoulder.

Ekhaas stood in the door. Geth bared his teeth and snarled like a wounded animal, but Ekhaas ignored him and held out a key of black iron. “Lor had this. You’ll need it.”

Dandra took the key and the hobgoblin retreated. Geth stared after her. “What’s she doing here?”

“She helped us so that we could help you. She’s got your sword.” Dandra knelt at Geth’s side and looked him in the eye. The shifter stared back at her with an expression that was halfway between defiance and fear.

After a moment, the defiance fell away, replaced by a bleak loss that left Dandra more shaken that rage or hatred could have. “Dandra,” Geth said before she could speak, “I-”

“You snapped at me.”

“I’m sorry.” He turned his face away.

The motion left the lock on the collar exposed. Dandra reached forward and shoved the key inside, giving it a hard turn. Geth stiffened as if she had prodded him. The lock sprang open and she pulled the collar away. Geth stared at her. Dandra pressed her brow to his bloody, sticky forehead. “I didn’t know you nine years ago, Geth. But I know you now and I’d trust you with my life.”

He didn’t say anything and his body didn’t relax, but when she sat back, she could see that the bleakness was gone from his wide eyes. He looked at her in astonishment. Dandra gave him a smile and turned to the manacle that held his right arm-the same key fit the lock on it. “I think there’s something you’re not saying,” she said.

The astonishment in his eyes hardened. He bared his teeth again. “You heard what Singe said.”

“I heard what Singe said, but all I heard from you was ‘yes.’ I don’t know the whole story.” She looked at him. “Did Adolan know? Did he know everything?”

Geth’s hand slid free from the manacle-and went to the collar of black stones at his throat. He nodded. Dandra smiled. “Then for now, that’s good enough for me.”

Freeing his other arm and then his legs was the work of moments. Getting him on his feet was more difficult. He was unsteady and his legs were weak. When he sat forward, Dandra saw that the blood that covered his face was nothing compared to what had gushed from his scalp at the back of his head. His hairy back was streaked with red like an artist’s canvas. “Ashi!” Dandra called. “We need your help.”

The hunter squeezed into the cell. Between the two of them, they got Geth up and out of the cramped space. Ekhaas’s ears drew back, however, when she saw the shifter, and she uttered a curse in Goblin. Dandra knew how she felt-Geth’s injuries weren’t going to make it any easier to get out of Tzaryan Keep. “We could use Orshok’s healing prayers right now,” she said.

Ekhaas’s ears flicked. “I can help a little.” She put a hand against Geth’s chest, narrowed her eyes in concentration, and chanted a few sonorous words. The snatch of song tugged on Dandra, something utterly different than Orshok’s prayers. When the druid worked magic, nature seemed to stir in response, its power flowing through him. Something stirred in response to Ekhaas’s song as well, but somehow it felt much more energetic, old yet active, an echo of the primal song of the world. Geth’s eyes-both of them-opened wide and he drew a sharp, deep breath. He stiffened, all but jumping out of Ashi’s and Dandra’s grip.

“Grandmother Wolf!” the shifter said. He still looked horrendous, but he moved with something much more like his normal strength and ease.

“Better?” asked Ekhaas. Geth nodded. “Good. We need get out of here.” She thrust his sword at him. He blinked then accepted it back, shoving it into the sheath that still hung from his belt. Ekhaas looked to Ashi. “Bring the torch.”

Ashi had scooped up Geth’s shirt and gauntlet in the cell. She handed them to him, then pulled the torch down from the wall. “What now?” Dandra asked Ekhaas. “Tzaryan’s troops are sure to be watching the gate. We’re not getting out that way and I didn’t see a back door.”

“Tzaryan Keep doesn’t have back door,” the hobgoblin told her. “But Taruuzh Kraat did.”

She turned away before Dandra could demand an explanation, and once more they were forced to follow or be left behind.

At the top of the dungeon stairs, Ekhaas turned, heading toward the ogre barracks. “Try to keep the torch low,” she told Ashi.

The hunter nodded. Dandra held her breath. Although the darkness ahead seemed quiet-she could only imagine that Tzaryan’s ogres had been turned out to search for them-the idea of venturing right into their lair was still daunting. Just when it felt like the stench of the monsters alone would choke them, though, Ekhaas turned aside and led them down a short passage to a long but strangely narrow room. A closed hatch that would have been a tight squeeze for an ogre pierced one wall. On either side of it stood complex arrangements of winches and pulleys threaded with heavy chains. Ekhaas walked over to the hatch and lifted the simple latch that kept it closed. Stale, cold air puffed out as she pulled the hatch open.

“The back door of Taruuzh Kraat,” she said. She stepped aside to let them approach the hatch.

Dandra stepped up and eased her head through. The space beyond was a dark and echoing shaft that smelled of cold stone. She could see almost nothing. “Ashi, give me the torch.”

The hunter passed it to her and Dandra held it out into the shaft. The flame illuminated smooth walls that quickly became the unworked rock of a natural chasm. Just below the hatch was a ledge; from the ledge, a dark rope with knots along its length for easy climbing dangled down into the shadows. If Dandra strained her eyes, she could just make out the bottom of the chasm, a narrow rocky wedge in the shadows.

Overhead, the ceiling of the shaft was much closer. The chains and winches from the narrow room passed through the wall and connected to an array of beams holding up the underside of a stone floor. Dandra traced the chains and beams with a glance. If the winches were tightened, key pieces of beams would be pulled away. The floor would collapse. She narrowed her eyes and turned to look at Ekhaas. “We’re under the landing in the great stairs. Robrand told Singe that the floor could be collapsed to drop invaders into a chasm.”

Ekhaas nodded. “A chasm that has creased this land since the Age of Dhakaan. Tzaryan thought he could build away from the ruins of Taruuzh Kraat, but in deciding to use this chasm for his trap, he missed a passage. There’s a door at the bottom so cunningly hidden no one could have found it from the outside. It opens into a network of ancient caves. There’s another door in the hall of Taruuzh-I found it while exploring. It must have been intended as an escape route.” The hobgoblin’s ears stood straight with pride. “This hatch is here so Tzaryan’s slaves can maintain the collapsing mechanism. I don’t think Tzaryan ever expected anyone to come and go this way. I’ve been in and out of the keep under his nose for two years.”

“I thought it seemed like you knew this place a little too well,” said Geth. He had his gauntlet on his arm and with Ashi’s help had fastened the straps that held the armored sleeve in place. He gave it a critical shake, then stepped up to the hatch as well, glancing down the chasm before looking to Ekhaas. “You’re sure this will get us away from Dah’mir?”

“No one knows about the door,” Ekhaas said. “Tzaryan Rrac probably doesn’t even suspect the caves exist. We can take shelter in Taruuzh Kraat until we have the chance to escape.”

“Until we can come back for the others,” Geth corrected her. He turned and looked at Dandra. “We may be retreating but we’re not abandoning them.”

She gave him a tight smile, then watched as the shifter climbed through the hatch. He balanced for a moment on the ledge beyond before taking hold of the knotted rope and lowering himself down into the shaft. Ekhaas gestured for her to follow him. “You next,” she said. “Then your tall friend. I’ll come last and close the hatch.”

Dandra drew a deep breath and leaned through the hatch once more. Geth was already a shadow on the edge of her vision. Her stomach tensed as she stared down into the darkness. With her powers, she wouldn’t have worried about the drop at all. She might not even have bothered with the rope. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be sure her powers would be there for her.

Tetkashtai? she asked.

The presence screamed back at her with a wail that made her stumble, though she caught herself against the edge of the hatch. Ashi stepped forward with concern on her face.

Ekhaas bared her teeth. “Move, kalashtar. As long we stand here, we’re in danger!”

Dandra nodded grimly. She could remove the psicrystal and break the link to Tetkashtai, but that would do no good unless she gave the crystal to someone else to carry-and in her terror-maddened state Tetkashtai was sure to attempt to seize control of anyone carrying her prison. Geth had carried it once in a pouch, but a mere pouch might not be enough to block the presence’s influence anymore. Tetkashtai’s frenzy gave her a frightening strength. The strength of madness.

A sour taste rose in Dandra’s mouth as something else occurred to her. Madness was what Dah’mir had been trying to provoke in his kalashtar victims all along. Medala had found that strength and murdered her psicrystal to reclaim her body. Virikhad had eventually succumbed to madness as well and his fight for Medala’s body had destroyed both of them. If Tetkashtai fell, too …

Dandra lifted her chin, slid her spear into the harness across her back, and eased herself through the shaft onto the ledge beyond. The empty space of the chasm hung below her. For a moment, she wondered if giving in to Dah’mir’s power would be such a bad thing.

She choked that thought off. She’d held Tetkashtai back so far.

She turned slowly to face the hatch, then bent down, took the knotted rope between her hands, and slid backward off the edge. She could feel the rope jump and shudder as Geth continued his descent below her. Gut churning, she focused on moving her grasp from one knot to the next, sliding down into the cold dark.

With one arm outstretched and his eyes closed, Chain spun like child playing a game. Vennet couldn’t stop himself from laughing and chanting out the nursery rhyme that went with the game. “Warding, warning, breeding, keeping, making, healing, storm and shade. Striding, scribing, always guarding, all as dark an end they made!”

Chain’s face, already pale with fear, tensed at the mocking-but his spinning still stopped exactly when the rhyme ended. His eyes snapped open and he stared at his arm, the Mark of Finding seeming to shimmer on it, in surprise. It pointed down toward the floor. The big man swallowed and forced his eyes up to Dah’mir. “There,” he said. “She’s about a hundred paces away-and moving.”

Beyond Chain, Singe struggled to conceal an expression of dismay. Hruucan’s burned face was inscrutable, though the movement of his tentacles betrayed pleasure and anticipation-the closer they were to capturing Dandra, Vennet knew, the closer Hruucan was to being given his chance for revenge on Singe. Tzaryan Rrac, however, just looked confused. “That’s impossible!” said the ogre mage. “She’d have to be under the keep!”

Dah’mir’s eyes shone in the darkness. “She’s in the caves,” he said. His voice made eddies in the air, tiny whispers of wind that murmured the praises of the Dragon Below in Vennet’s ears.

Tzaryan’s confusion only seemed to grow deeper. “Caves?” he asked. “There are no caves-”

“There are caves, Tzaryan,” said Dah’mir impatiently. “I knew this area before you were a squalling infant. Chain, what direction is Dandra moving?”

The bounty hunter’s muscular arm traced an arc toward the northeast. Toward Taruuzh Kraat. Dah’mir’s breath hissed between his teeth and his thin lips pulled into a tight smile. “How fitting. This will end where it all began. Tzaryan, gather your ogres and get them into the ruins. There’s only one exit from the caves into Taruuzh Kraat. I want to greet our fugitives when they emerge in Taruuzh’s hall. Vennet, Hruucan-bring the prisoners.”

He thrust off from the courtyard, great talons gouging furrows in the stone, herons scattering around him, and leaped into the sky. Huge wings snapped out and caught the air. They beat twice, then stretched wide in a glide. Vennet’s heart thundered at the glory of the sight. He shoved Natrac toward Chain, and rushed to the edge of the courtyard to peer after the dragon. Tzaryan stepped up at his side-and let out a curse of amazement.

Under the light of the risen moons, with his herons circling overhead, Dah’mir landed and began to dig like a huge, scaly dog, reopening a passage into the ancient ruins.

Vennet whirled to sneer at Singe in triumph. “I told you once that you were too smart for your own good. Are you feeling smart now?”

The wizard’s face was pale. Vennet laughed.