City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [22]
“Perhaps the war is never won,” Pierce said. “We must simply find satisfaction in survival.”
Lei tightened her grip on his shoulder, and they continued on their way.
Cannith Tower was a masterpiece, a testimony to the architectural talents of the House of Making. Silver threads had been embedded into the surface of the stone walls, creating the impression of a glittering web of light rising into the sky.
“I remember when I first saw the tower,” Lei said. “I came here to study firebinding.” She pointed to a window high on the tower. “My cousin Dasei and I stayed in that room while we were learning. She couldn’t bind to save her life, but she always managed to charm her way through the challenges.” She shook her head.
While Pierce listened, his attention was on the defenses of the tower. For all that they appeared to be leaded glass, he had no doubt that the windows were mystically hardened to resist physical damage. There was one central gate, and five guards spread before it. All five were identical warforged—massive warriors built from gray adamantine alloy. They stood as still as statues, but Pierce had no doubt that they had already spotted him and were evaluating the threat he might pose. Each of the ’forged carried a long hammer and a shield bearing the Cannith seal. Pierce couldn’t spot the slightest scratch on the polished skin of any of the soldiers. This could reflect a lack of combat experience, or it could be a fringe benefit of working for the House of Making. While combat seemed unwise, Pierce loosened the chain of his flail. Should Lady Lei be threatened, he needed to be ready.
“Are you certain this is a wise course of action, my lady?”
“Don’t worry, Pierce. There is no question of violence here.” Nonetheless, he could hear fear in her voice. “Follow my lead.”
Lei took a deep breath and walked up to the gate. One of the warforged moved to block her path.
Lei made a sharp gesture with her hand. “Stand aside, guardsman. I have dealings with the baron of this house and have no time for underlings.”
Pierce was watching the guard’s face, and he saw a slight motion as the warforged looked down to examine Lei’s fingers. While Lei had the imperious manner of a noble, she no longer had her ring, and the guardsman held his ground.
“What is your name and the nature of your business?”
“I am Lei d’Cannith,” she snapped, “an heir of the mark, and my business is not for you to know.”
The speaker glanced at one of the other warforged soldiers. Pierce tightened his grip of the haft of his flail.
“Please inform the warden, Twelve,” the sentinel said. One of the other warforged nodded and entered the building.
“You dare to keep me waiting on the doorstep?” Lei said.
The guard met her gaze. His face was a steel mask of indifference, but Pierce could sense a touch of uncertainty beneath. He wasn’t prepared for this situation. “If you will wait one moment, I am certain that the warden will be able to assist you.”
Pierce could see Lei’s anger building, but she maintained her composure. She had expected a cold welcome.
Minutes passed, then a new figure appeared at the gate. A large man in his late forties, he had red hair that almost matched Lei’s, but there were a few streaks of gray in his flaring mustache. He wore studded leather armor died a deep blue, and a harness bearing five rods of polished darkwood—each holding a potentially deadly enchantment, Pierce was sure. It had been two years since Pierce had seen this man, but he remembered him clearly enough—Dravot d’Cannith, whom they’d last seen as the warden of the Whitehearth armory.
Lei glowed at the sight of a familiar face. “Dravot!” she cried. “You’re alive!”
She moved to embrace the warden, but a warforged guardsman stepped into her path. Her face tightened in anger, and for a moment Pierce thought she might actually attack the warforged; he had heard of her exploits at the battle of Keldan Ridge. But then Lei saw Dravot’s face. She stopped, the energy draining out of her.
“You have no place here,” Dravot said. His