The Queen of Death

13

“Yes?” Sallah said.

When Kandler stalked on to the bridge, Monja took one look at him and scurried away. He suspected he knew what was on his mind, and he appreciated her giving him the space he wanted.

“I …” He looked into Sallah’s green eyes, the ones that Te’oma had mimicked so well, and his tongue froze in his mouth.

“Ah,” the lady knight said, nodding. “I’d forgotten which one of us wasn’t talking to the other. Thank you for making that clear.”

“No,” said Kandler. “I just wanted to …”

He chewed on his bottom lip, not sure what he wanted to do. He just knew that he loved Sallah and wanted her to stay with him. All he had to do to make that happen for at least a few days longer was keep his mouth shut.

Where was the harm in that, he wondered? It would only be a few days more she’d be forced to stay with the Phoenix. Of course, she was right. They hadn’t been talking at all for the past couple of days, so why drag out the inevitable?

He should have dropped her off at Krona Peak, although he’d known that stopping there would never have been as simple as slowing down the airship enough for Sallah to get off. Duro would have bragged about how they’d killed Nithkorrh, and the dwarves there would have insisted on hearing the story over and over again. There would have been feasts to dine upon and counsels to keep, and all of that would have added up to more wasted days than Kandler cared to think about.

Here, though, they could leave Sallah at Krezent and be gone—just like she’d said she’d wanted. Of course, she hadn’t objected to his bypassing Krona Peak. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind if he did so here.

If he mentioned the possibility to her, it would only cause trouble. It would be better to keep quiet about it. He was sure about that.

“We’re near a place called Krezent,” he said. “It’s not much more than a ruin, but a group of yuan-ti live there.”

He stopped talking and tried to read Sallah’s reaction, but he’d seen statues display more emotion.

“They worship the Silver Flame. I’m sure they’d be happy to take you in.”

Sallah stared at Kandler for a moment, her face blank. Then she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. This surprised him so much that he barely returned it.

“What was that for?” he asked, afraid he didn’t want to hear the answer. The kiss had felt something like good-bye.

“I knew it,” she said, a gentle smile parting her full lips. She hadn’t looked upon him so kindly in days.

“You knew about Krezent?”

She nodded. “I’m a Knight of the Silver Flame. I’ve been trained to become one since birth. Of course I know about even the most remote outposts of our faith, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

Kandler squinted at her smiling face. Here, in the sun, she had a few freckles across the bridge of her nose that he’d never noticed before.

She reached out and caressed his cheek. “I knew you couldn’t hide it from me, that you wouldn’t. That’s not your way.”

Kandler smiled back at the lady knight. Then his face fell. Such compliments meant little in the way of consolation if it meant she was going to leave. His eyes fell to where her hands rested on the wheel, then he glanced up to check the position of the sun.

“I noticed you haven’t changed course,” he said.

Sallah shook her head. “I’ll stay with you until we reach the coast.’’

Kandler sighed in relief, then caught himself. “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us.” Then, seeing the look on her face, he added, “Yet.”

“Do you know anything about Krezent?” she asked.

“Just what Burch told me.”

“It’s the remotest sort of remote. The reason no one but the yuan-ti live there is that it’s not suitable for other sorts. They have little contact with the outside world, just the occasional trading caravan that wanders through—or off course, as happens more often than not.

“If I disembarked there, I wouldn’t have any way to go anywhere. I’m sure the priests there would take me in and protect me, but finding passage for me back to Thrane might take weeks or even months. Better that I stick with you until we cross a better-traveled path.”

“Ah,” Kandler said, his face falling. The spark of hope in his heart that they might be able to work something out faded without catching fire.

“I’m not going to Argonnessen with you,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “It’s a fool’s journey. The Order has lost enough knights in this quest already. I’ll return to Flamekeep to tell your tale.”

“Don’t you want to know how the story ends?”

“If you go through with your plan to cross the Dragonreach to take your fight to Argonnessen, I’m afraid I already do.”

She kissed him. This time, he responded, knowing it might be the last time. When they broke apart, he turned and walked away.

“You see those horses?” Burch asked, pointing down at a trio of riders who had broken off from the main force of cavalry.

Kandler shaded his eyes as he watched them gallop off to the south. They rode faster than the airship, although Esprë wasn’t pushing the Phoenix hard right now. Kandler had asked her to take the wheel at the first sighting of the army, and the others had joined him at the prow to learn what they could of the tableau below.

“Those are Valenar cavalry, the best in the world,” Burch said. “They go out of their way to prove it any chance they get. They’re bastards, and they’re always spoiling for a fight.”

“Then what are they doing out here in the desert? ” Duro asked. “There doesn’t look like much around here to pick on other than lizards and birds.”

“Some of the clans of my people used to roam these lands,” Monja said. “They got tired of dealing with these invaders, so they looked for friendlier lands with better neighbors.

Kandler nodded. “The Valenar warclans used to run strikes into southern Cyre every couple of weeks. Ironic when you consider that Gyre brought them into the Last War as an ally in the first place.”

“They do not bother the warforged or the Lord of Blades,” Xalt said. “The Lord of Blades sometimes sends his best fighters to test their mettle against the warclans, though. Sometimes a warclan will wait for weeks outside of the Mournland, waiting for a warforged force to show itself and enter battle.”

“That’s madness,” Te’oma said. “They fight just to fight?”

“Not everyone does it for money,” said Burch. “Some people take pride in their work.”

“I never took pleasure in it,” the changeling said.

“Can they do anything to harm us up here?” Sallah asked.

She addressed Kandler directly. The two of them were speaking to each other again; although they both treated each other so respectfully, so dispassionately, Kandler felt like they might as well have kept their distance instead. Still, if she wanted to play things that way, he didn’t wish to stop her. Being with her, even in such a stilted way, was better than not being with her at all._#

“No,” he said. “We’re too high up now. Sometimes they have a wizard or sorcerer in their retinue though. That’s why I had Esprë move us higher as soon as Burch spotted them.”

“Where are those riders headed?” Sallah asked.

Kandler looked to Burch. “Probably Taer Shantara,” the shifter said. “It’s one of the six forts that stretch around the last stable border Valenar had. The warclans always try pressing out farther—into Q’barra and the Talenta Plains these days—but geography and weather always tar up their supply lines. Besides which, none of the Valenar elves want to bother with guarding a supply caravan instead of being in the thick of things, so eventually they run out of food and water and come galloping home.”

Te’oma stared at the shifter. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say in one stretch,” she said.

“You’re not usually worth talking to.”

“Are we headed for Taer Shantara?” Sallah said. “It seems it would be a logical place to gather supplies for your journey across the sea.”

Kandler noticed that she hadn’t included herself in that journey.

Burch shook his shaggy head. “The elves at Shantara are too war-crazy, and those riders are sure to get there before us to warn that we’re the vanguard of an invasion from the north.” He held up a hand to cut off protest. “True or not, it doesn’t matter. Better to pass them by for Aerie instead.” “That sounds like my kind of place,” said Duro. “Clear mountain air and filled with eagle-riding dwarves, I’m sure!”

Burch snorted. “It’s the westernmost Valenar fort, the favorite launching pad for raids into Q’barra. It sits in the foothills at the very end of the Endworld Mountains, overlooking the sea. It’s our last chance to stop.”

“Assuming the elves there don’t decide that we’re the leaders of an invading force too,” said Sallah.

Burch smiled, showing his pointed fangs. “Last chances are last chances,” he said.