The Road to Death

38

“It’s time,” Kandler said as he entered the infirmary. Three human guards stood watching over the changeling, one at the window, one at the door, and a third standing a sword’s length away from Te’oma’s bed. Berre had sent them in shortly after Kandler left the room last night, with orders to make Burch leave and get some sleep.

Kandler had bumped into the Captain of Bones this morning already, and she’d told him about the switch. He’d thanked her for it. He needed Burch fresh and ready for their trip, no matter where it took him. Berre looked like she’d been on her feet for the entire night, but that was fine. Once Phoenix took off, her part in all this would be done.

The changeling sat bolt upright in bed at the sound of Kandler’s voice. He wondered if she’d slept at all herself. She looked horrible. Since she was a changeling, the justicar knew that either she’d made herself look like that on purpose or she was too distracted to bother with her appearance at the moment. Her red eyes and puffy face told him she’d been crying.

“All right,” she said in a defeated voice, rubbing her eyes.

“Try to contact Esprë,” Kandler said.

The changeling closed her eyes and concentrated. She remained silent for a long moment, until Kandler cleared his throat.

“I have her,” Te’oma said. “She’s unharmed. She’s in the captain’s cabin on Keeper’s Claw.”

“Where are they headed?”

“She can’t tell. From the direction of the sun, they’re heading east by northeast, but that’s all she knows right now.”

“Tell her to stay safe and keep her head down.”

Te’oma looked up at the justicar and nodded.

“And tell her I love her. We’ll contact her again once we’re in the air.”

Te’oma smiled. “She knows.”

Kandler waited for a moment until he thought the changeling had broken her psionic connection with his daughter. “How is she?” he said. “Is she frightened?”

“No more than you’d expect. That’s one tough elf you’ve raised.”

“Living with him will do that to you,” Burch said as he walked in through the curtained doorway. “I used to be a gnome.”

Kandler ignored the shifter. A thought about the changeling had struck him, and he needed to know the answer now.

“Do you have a mindlink set up with anyone else?” he asked Te’oma.

The changeling froze, then lay back down in the bed. She closed her eyes and nodded without a word.

“With whom?” Kandler asked. “The Lich Queen?”

Te’oma nodded again.

“Have you contacted her recently?”

The changeling didn’t move. A growing dread filled Kandler’s heart.

“Is that why you’ve been crying?”

Te’oma’s body shook so hard it rattled her chains. She rolled forward into a ball, unable to hold back her tears any longer.

“It looks like I’m not the only one who’s failed at his job around here,” Kandler said.

“She’s dead,” Te’oma said softly.

“For centuries,” Burch said.

“Not the Lich Queen,” Te’oma said, her voice rising to a hysterical note. “My daughter!”

The words shocked Kandler. He couldn’t help but feel pity for the changeling, although he didn’t imagine she deserved it.

“What happened to her?” he asked.

As the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them. He glanced at Burch, who shot him an insane look. He shrugged at the shifter, not understanding his actions any better than his old friend.

“An angry mob stoned her to death after catching her impersonating their justicar.” The changeling wiped the tears from her face with the heels of her hands.

“The Lich Queen couldn’t stop that?” The more Kandler knew, the less it seemed he understood.

“She died three years ago,” Te’oma said, her voice as raw as her face. “The Lich Queen promised to restore her to life in exchange for my services.”

“But now that you failed her, the deal’s off.”

The changeling nodded, fighting back another round of tears.

“Who’s not protecting her family now?” Burch asked, back in his spot on the windowsill.

The changeling leaped off the bed, ready to attack the shifter, but Kandler shoved her back down before she got two steps away.

“Try that again, and I’ll break your ankles,” he said. “As it is, you’re lucky I don’t rip those wings off your back.”

“They could die,” she said, angling her back as far from Kandler and Burch as possible.

“I wouldn’t be bothered by that.”

“Do you have any other insults you’d like to heap on me, or can we get going now?” Te’oma said.

The wind whipped through Kandler’s hair as he stood on the bow of Phoenix, shading his eyes with his hand and staring out toward the horizon in some vain hope of spotting a ring of fire floating there. As he brought his gaze back around to focus on the airship, he had to admit that Berre’s skeletons had done a fantastic job getting the ship back into shape. Besides being whole once again, it looked better than he’d ever seen it, polished and coated with fresh varnish and paint.

Burch waved at him from where he watched over Te’oma, and the justicar nodded back. They’d chained the changeling in front of the bridge, between it and the hatch that led to the hold, by means of a length of links that led from her collar to a large, solid eyelet bolted through the deck.

Despite her bonds, Te’oma seemed relaxed, almost cheerful. She’d been happy to put Fort Bones far behind her, and her joy put the justicar’s suspicions on edge. He still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t pulling some horrible scam on them, designed to send the heroes in the wrong direction while Ibrido got away. He’d had Monja petition the gods to confirm the truth in the changeling’s words, though, and Te’oma had passed that test. Despite that, he knew he could never trust her.

Monja stood atop the railing where the raised bridge overlooked the main deck below, balanced on it with the confidence of a tightrope walker. She grinned into the rising sun, and her attitude infected the justicar enough to bring a tight smile to his lips.

The ring of fire crackled overhead, driving the airship forward at top speed. Kandler imagined that the elemental trapped inside enjoyed moving again, although it might have preferred its freedom. The Karrns’ reinforcement of the mystical restraining arcs put that worry to rest for now. They ran from the stern and arced over and under the main part of the ship. At their ends, they held fast opposite sides of the fiery band that encircled the ship like a ring on a finger.

If that ring ever managed to get loose of its restraints, the resultant explosion would consume the entire ship, he’d been told. Kandler preferred not to think about it.

It felt good to be back on the road again, so to speak, even if that path took them a mile into the air. Kandler had always enjoyed traveling, sometimes more than arriving at his destination. The open road called to him in the way seas beckoned sailors.

That was at least part of the reason he’d become an agent of the Citadel back in Sharn. As much as he loved the City of Towers, he couldn’t bear to stay in the place for more than a few weeks at a time. That job gave him a chance to serve his country and still not be confined to it.

“Crown for your thoughts,” Sallah said as she appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest.

“Who’s flying the ship?”

“Monja.”

“Is that wise?”

Sallah pursed her lips. “Flying an airship requires a strong personality more than anything else. You have to be able to get the ship’s elemental to listen to you and follow your lead. Despite her size, Monja has one of the largest personalities I’ve ever encountered.”

Kandler nodded, satisfied.

“About those thoughts?”

The justicar lowered his head for a moment before he gazed out past the prow and spoke. “All of us, we’re on this road together,” he said, “each of us with our own past and our own futures. Do any of us know where we’re going? Where does it all end?”

“There’s an old Thranite proverb,” Sallah said, “ ‘All roads lead to death.’ ”

Kandler laughed.

“It means,” she continued, “that there’s no escaping our eventual fate. All of us are doomed to someday die. In the meantime, it’s our duty to make the best of the journey that we can.”

“I think we can do that,” Kandler said, turning in Sallah’s arms and tenderly, tentatively kissing her full, pink lips. “As long as we’re on that road together.”