The Killing Song

CHAPTER 24

The voice of the Master of Silence was like an iron hook scraping through Singe’s brain. He tried to shut it out-there were techniques of concentration he had learned, ways to focus on spellcasting in the middle of a battlefield-but no discipline that he could dredge up from within himself helped. Words that were larger than he was burst through his mind. A few of them he caught. My servants … My enemies … The rest tumbled past him.

There were other voices closer at hand, real voices that weren’t just in his head. Most of them seemed to be screaming. Dandra’s voice was one of the few that wasn’t. She was calling his name. He forced his eye open and met hers-briefly. He couldn’t stop shaking. His body just wanted to curl into a ball. Hands held him back. Dandra’s voice returned through the screams. “Batul, what’s wrong with them?”

Batul flashed in and out of his field of vision. The old orc’s face was amazed. “Dandra, you resist his power!”

“It must be the effects of Ashi’s dragonmark!”

“Word of Vvaraak! Can she use it again?”

Their words vanished as the daelkyr spoke again. You’re not what you were … New agony burst through Singe’s head. He jerked and spun away from the hands that held him, hitting another rolling body. His eye snapped open at the impact. He lay face to patterned face with Ashi. She looked as if she were the same agony as him. Her eyes were wild. Her mouth was stretched wide in a scream. Her hands were clenched over her ears, though that could have done no good at all. Nothing could have shut out that voice.

A word rolled into Singe’s ringing ears. “No.”

Who’d spoken it? He thought it was Medala, but it could have been Dandra, answering Batul. Whoever had spoken, he saw Ashi’s face twist in response, and a word broke into her scream.

“Yes!” Her eyes focused, and her head slammed up into his. Hard.

The impact brought bright sparks of pain, but it also slapped aside the agony of the Master of Silence’s voice and left Singe’s mind clear as cool water. Hands dragged him off Ashi’s body, but not before he’d felt the heat that radiated from her skin. From her dragonmark.

“Twelve moons!” he gasped through the shock. There was roaring in his ears-Dah’mir-and screaming-Ashi and Moon. His throat was sore and he realized that he had been screaming too.

“Singe?” The hands that held him flipped him over and he saw Dandra’s face. “Light of il-Yannah! What happened?”

“Ashi used her mark on me.”

Dandra’s eyebrows rose. “Twice in a day? She can’t!”

“She did.” He gripped her arm. “Bloody moons, Dandra, you don’t know what it’s like-”

He flinched as the Master of Silence spoke again, but this time it brought no pain, only a single word. Hush.

It couldn’t have been directed at Ashi and Moon, but somehow it must have pierced through their tortured minds. They fell silent and grew still, though agony continued to wrack their faces. Singe twisted away from Dandra. “We have to help them!”

Batul moved quicker than he did. With a nimbleness that defied his age, the old Gatekeeper grabbed Ashi’s left hand and Moon’s right. He thrust a chunky amulet between their palms, then quickly twisted the cord of the amulet around to bind them together. Singe caught only a glimpse of the amulet, but he recognized it as Batul’s ancient talisman of Vvaraak. Whatever power it had seemed to pass into Ashi and Moon-their faces eased immediately. Batul looked up at Singe and Dandra. His face was hard.

“It may protect two. It couldn’t have protected three. You have a choice to make-if you take them and leave now, all four of you may still survive.”

Singe glanced at Dandra. She lifted her chin in the gesture of determination he knew so well. He looked back at Batul. “We’re staying.”

The druid nodded and grabbed their arms, pulling them over to where Ekhaas already crouched, staring down from the ledge at the scene below. “We need a plan,” he whispered. “If we act quickly …”

He didn’t need to finish. If they acted quickly, maybe they could take their enemies by surprise. And maybe that would give them an edge, Singe thought. Maybe. He stared down at the cavern floor, at Medala and Dah’mir arguing over the captive kalashtar, at the terrifying form of the Master of Silence in his prison. It was almost as if they’d forgotten the Gatekeepers or dismissed them as inconsequential.

Maybe they had-Medala had already come close to disabling the orcs on her own. Singe tried to focus past what was being said below and come up with a strategy. He drew a deep breath and said quickly, “Batul, you Gatekeepers are vulnerable to Medala’s attacks, but Ashi’s dragonmark should protect Dandra and I, so we’ll go against her. You turn your magic against Dah’mir. Weaken him. Ekhaas, is Geth still down there?” The hobgoblin nodded. “Then find him-we may need his sword against Dah’mir too.”

Batul’s face paled. “What about the Master of Silence?”

“Pray that he can’t do anything more than shout at us.”

Dandra’s arm thrust out. “Singe, the kalashtar-!” she began, but Dah’mir’s roar completed her words.

“They awaken!”

Medala’s voice rose as well. “They are reborn!”

“Twelve moons!” Singe cursed. “Dandra, will they wake with their powers?”

She answered through clenched teeth. “I did!”

The Master of Silence’s voice rolled over them in excitement. More kalashtar were waking. Shelsatori shook her head and looked around. Dah’mir looked confused. Singe’s hand tightened on his rapier and he rose to his feet. “They’re still distracted,” he said. “We have a chance. Batul, wait until Dandra and I are close enough to attack Medala, then launch your attack on Dah’mir. Ekhaas, get down to Geth.”

Hobgoblin and orc nodded in grim silence and moved, Batul down to the lower ledge where the other druids clustered, Ekhaas heading for the cavern floor. Singe turned to offer Dandra a hand up, but she was already standing. A strange feeling tightened Singe’s shoulders as he looked at her, spear in her hand and fire in her eyes.

“We’re a long way from that path outside Bull Hollow,” he said.

She shook her head. “Not so far as that.” She pushed off from the ground and skimmed up to the next ledge.

Singe followed. They stayed high on the bowl of the cavern, moving as quickly as they dared without attracting attention. As long as Dah’mir and Medala argued, maybe they’d have a chance. The newly woken kalashtar didn’t move except to examine their surroundings. Nor did they speak. In fact, it seemed to Singe that they actually seemed somewhat disoriented, as if they still hadn’t recovered fully.

I see servants able to walk abroad with no fear of the Gatekeepers, the Master of Silence was raving. I see dreams and madness united. I see kalashtar who will serve the masters of Xoriat-

The combined voices of Medala and Virikhad cut him off like twin knives. “You see wrong, daelkyr!”

Singe froze. Dandra froze. The entire cavern froze. Beyond the lens, the daelkyr sat back on his throne. You go too far, he said in a tone that chilled Singe’s guts.

And the lens bulged. A streamer of darkness struck through the seal-and the killing song rose from the kalashtar like a mighty wind to thrust it back.

The sheer fury of the song made Singe stumble. Even Dandra rocked back and dropped down to the ledge. “Il-Yannah,” she whispered in awe.

If Singe’s guts had been chilled a moment before, now they were icy. The Master of Silence could do more than shout through his seal-and the kalashtar could do much more than shout.

Or perhaps not the kalashtar, but the katalarash. Singe’s cold belly rose in nauseating terror as Medala’s arms dropped and she stared at the Master of Silence like a thin, mad queen. He looked to Dandra. Her face was pale. “Is it possible?”

“No-” Her voice caught. “I don’t know.”

Beyond the seal, the mouthless face of the daelkyr grew dark with a terrible fury. The weird creatures of his court swirled in agitated chaos, trying to push away from their lord. When the daelkyr’s answer to Medala’s declaration came, it was as if the charge of an entire army had been compressed into his voice.

The daelkyr do not know masters! The daelkyr create only servants! We raise up only those who will serve! The Master of Silence lifted a perfectly formed hand. Dah’mir! Show her the power of a faithful servant.

Black lightning leaped from his hand. It played across the lens within the Gatekeeper seal, made the air ripple with its passage, then spat out into the cavern and grounded itself in the glittering blue-black dragonshard embedded in Dah’mir’s broad chest.

The dragon reared back and roared as the lightning flowed on and on in a crackling stream. His bellows shook the cavern, bringing loose stones crashing down from the ceiling. His great wings unfurled and beat at the air, raising a storm of grit-Singe flung up an arm to shield his eyes. Dah’mir seemed almost to swell as his body absorbed the power that the daelkyr fed to him. His scales glistened. His acid-green eyes shone like eerie stars.

And the lightning still flowed when he struck, dropping back down onto four feet, drawing his head back, then whipping it forward, mouth wide as if to vomit acid at Medala and the katalarash.

But instead of acid, a colorless vapor distorted the air. Singe knew that attack-Dah’mir had caught him with it once, and it had dragged at him, slowing his actions and leaving him horribly vulnerable. Medala, however, just let the stuff wash over her as the killing song rose again. When she moved, there was nothing slow about her actions. Her arms came together, and a hollow crack shivered on the air.

A stream of frost burst from her hand and streaked toward Dah’mir-except that he was no longer there. Powerful legs uncoiled, and the dragon leaped easily to the side. Medala’s bolt of frost passed under him and spattered across rocks on the far side of the chamber, coating them with ice. Dah’mir landed across the ledges that Singe and Medala had only just left, legs spread wide, clawed feet gripping the rock as easily as if he stood on a level surface. Singe gasped and flattened himself against the ledge. Dandra dropped down with him. Dah’mir’s blazing eyes were still only for Medala, however. He leaped again, directly at her this time.

The killing song pitched deep. Medala’s head came up.

Dah’mir’s leap spun sideways. He flew across the cavern and smashed into the wall.

“Vayhatana!” Dandra said.

“Bloody moons! Vayhatana, ice bolts-when did Medala or Virikhad learn to do that?” Singe asked.

“They didn’t,” said Dandra. “Those powers belong to the other kalashtar!” She pointed at one of the men in Medala’s singing chorus. “Otonalast knows frost the way I know fire. Il-Yannah, the killing song must allow Medala and Virikhad to draw on the powers of those caught in it!”

“And maybe the other way around too.” Singe said. “That would explain how Erimelk and Moon were able to use Virikhad’s far step powers.” He stared at Dah’mir-and hissed in amazement.

The dragon staggered to his feet with one wing bent at an unnatural angle, but the black lightning still crackled around the seal and another arc of it leaped to the shard in Dah’mir’s chest. He howled as his wing straightened then stiffened, healed once more. His eyes flared again, and he spun on Medala, pacing the floor of the cavern like a hunting cat pacing before prey. From beyond the lightning-shot lens, the creatures of the Master of Silence’s court cheered at the battle, though the daelkyr himself only watched with narrowed eyes.

Was he concentrating on his champion?

“Medala can draw on the powers of her katalarash,” said Dandra. “Dah’mir has the power of the Master of Silence behind him. If they can’t stop each other, how do we stop either of them? And if we do, how do we stop the other one? We can’t take on either one!”

Singe groaned and ground his teeth together, trying to think of something. Some solution. Had Virikhad shown any hint of a weakness while he’d inhabited Moon’s body on the airship? Had Dah’mir? Had there been anything that they could exploit?

Yes.

He rolled over, and his hand dug into the pouch around his waist. His fingers closed on a cold, hard object, and he drew out the binding stone he had removed from the bracer meant for Moon. Dandra recoiled at the sight of it, but then her breath hissed between her teeth.

“You can’t use that against Medala! Whichever of her mind or Virikhad’s the stone traps, the other one will be left behind.”

“I wasn’t thinking of using it on Medala,” Singe told her. He flipped back over onto his belly and searched the cavern for the Gatekeepers. Down on the cavern floor, Dah’mir stalked slowly closer to Medala. She waited for him with frost glittering on one hand and fire flickering around the other. The killing song had sunk to a dull throb, the katalarash still surrounding Medala like unmoving guards. Singe spotted the orcs pressed to the back of a deep ledge. He pointed them out to Dandra. “Can you reach Batul with kesh?”

Geth watched Dah’mir glide across the cavern, his burning green gaze and Medala’s pinprick eyes fixed on each other. The dragon paused, then extended his foot in one more step …

Medala’s fiery hand snapped up, and white flames poured forth in a roaring bolt. Dah’mir flung himself aside-and so did Geth, ducking back into the niche between ledges that had become his hiding place. He had to drag Ekhaas back with him as Medala’s flame spattered like burning water on the rock.

“You’re a hazard!” he snarled at her.

The excitement in her amber eyes dimmed no more than it had since she had dropped down on him in the aftermath of Medala’s declaration, and as soon as the gout of fire faded, she was up again. Geth groaned and rose with her. It had been good to know that the Gatekeepers hadn’t abandoned him, but Ekhaas had hissed Singe’s message to attack Dah’mir just as the daelkyr’s black lightning had turned the dragon into a scaled juggernaut. He’d spent every moment since that one ducking up and down, alternately looking for some way to reach safety and pressing back to avoid bolts of ice or blasts of fire.

Or falling dragons. The leap that had briefly broken Dah’mir’s wing had thrown him against the cavern wall less than three paces from Geth and Ekhaas’s hiding place. Dah’mir had been close enough for Geth to smell the acrid, coppery odor of his body. He’d almost taken the chance of leaping out and charging the stunned dragon, but that would have exposed him to Medala-and he wasn’t certain that even Wrath could do Dah’mir serious harm so long as the power of the Master of Silence flowed into him.

Then the daelkyr’s black lightning had made Dah’mir’s broken wing whole again, and Geth had been certain that he wouldn’t be able to harm the dragon.

Out on the cavern floor, Medala’s other hand rose as Dah’mir landed and frost howled like a slice carved from a mountain blizzard. This time Dah’mir didn’t dodge her attack but barreled ahead. Frost covered his chest as it expanded in a deep breath and rimed his muzzle as it thrust forward.

Acid burst from between his jaws, yellow-green and foul.

Medala stumbled back, but the song of the katalarash strengthened, and her head came up again. She brought her hands together and thrust outward, the heels of her palms joined and her fingers spread as if she were trying to shield herself.

The gout of acid vanished into a flare of brilliant light that sent Dah’mir springing back. A few stray drops hissed down on Medala’s clothes and those of the singing katalarash, leaving smoking holes but nothing worse. Dah’mir ended up high on the wall over head, clinging to the stone, while he and Medala glared at each other once more. The thin cheering of the Master of Silence’s creatures penetrated the lens of the seal.

Yet the katalarash didn’t move. The song didn’t waver.

Geth stared at them and bared his teeth as a thought occurred to him. “Ekhaas, you’ve been in battles. Have you ever seen a unit take a charge like that without even flinching?”

The hobgobin’s ears flicked. Eyes that had been watching everything with unblinking intensity narrowed. “No,” she said. “Even duur’kala warsingers would have fallen back.”

“That’s what I thought,” Geth growled. “Grandfather Rat’s naked tail-kalashtar or katalarash, I think Medala’s controlling them just like she did the horde. If we could break that control, Dah’mir might have a chance at taking her down.” He looked at Ekhaas. “Do you think that countersong you were working on might work?”

Her ears stood up tall. “Khaavolaar! Have you gone as mad as Medala? Once Dah’mir finishes her, he’ll still be strong and we’ll have to face him!”

“What’s our choice?” Geth demanded. “We can’t hide here forever and we can’t face both-”

There was a scuffling on a ledge above. Geth spun, gauntlet up and sword out, but it wasn’t some new threat, only the Gatekeepers scuttling down like monkeys, staying low and moving as quickly as they could. Batul flung himself flat on the ledge and leaned out to get closer to Geth. “Dandra’s in my head!” he said. “Singe has a plan. He says you need to be ready to attack Dah’mir.”

Geth choked. “Rat! That’s crazy-” He caught Medala’s glare and choked off the word. Crazy as Singe or mad as Medala, they needed to make a move. He twisted around and looked for the wizard and the kalashtar. He found them creeping down the ledges at the far end of the cavern, getting closer to floor level. “What am I waiting for?” he asked tightly.

“They’re going to try and weaken Dah’mir. We have a part in it too. Dandra’s says that if this works, you’ll know when to strike. If you can take him down, they’ll strike at Medala.”

Geth’s mouth twitched and a smile broke across it. A rush of energy filled his belly. “They’re going to weaken Dah’mir,” he repeated, then glanced at Ekhaas. She looked back at him, her ears twitching, and slowly nodded. Geth looked back at Batul. “Tell Dandra we can weaken Medala for them.”

The old Gatekeeper’s eye twitched as he relayed the message back to Dandra, then blinked. “Singe says there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“They’re going to need a distraction.”