Darkvision - Bruce R. Cordell [82]
The swordswoman nodded. She supposed the desert was rife with interesting relics-she vaguely recalled that some old human civilization once claimed the desert as its own-before destroying itself. Faerun had a way of eating civilizations, especially those that overreached themselves. In other words, human civilizations.
"Three foragers-Feraih, Ghanim, and Haleem-walked north. The dusts subsided, and a bright dawn, clear of flying sand, lured them onward. Something new glistened on the horizon, flashing prettily in the sun. A day's gallop on camel-back brought the foragers to the desert newcomer."
"The Storm Spike? What did it look like?"
"At first glance, it seemed like a splinter of purplish stone and dark crystal that reached for the sky. But Feraih was the first to realize that what had really appeared in the desert was a tall, slender tower-a made thing. Made by whom, though, she couldn't begin to guess."
Was this the epicenter of darkness Thormud detected, and the destination of their tendays-long quest?
"What did they do next?" Kiril asked.
"Ghanim and Haleem spied an entrance, and they went inside. Feraih waited outside, in the tower's shadow. When half a day had passed, she went to the entrance and found it sealed. It looked as if it had always been sealed. She knew that couldn't possibly be true-her friends were within. She tried her rock hammers, minor enchantments of opening, and even prayer-nothing sufficed. The entrance was closed.
"After two days, Feraih returned to Al Qahera. That night, she slept again in her own bed. In the morning, her brothers found her dead. Mas'ud the healer was unable to find anything wrong-he suspected she had fallen into a curse."
Mas'ud believed Thormud was suffering from a curse-might they be the same? Anxiety wrapped its prickly cloak around Kiril's shoulders.
"So we call the Storm Spike a cursed thing, an intruder in Raurin, and something to steer clear of. Since Feraih returned, no Qaheran has journeyed north to again gaze upon the dark tower, the mere sight of which can curse an observer to her death."
* * * * *
After recounting Essam's story about the Storm Spike to Thormud, it was all Kiril could do to restrain the dwarf from leaving immediately. By the next morning, there was no arguing with him. Despite the night's rest, the dwarf remained pale and shaky in the reddish light of the new day. He'd lost weight, and his hair had noticeably whitened since they'd set off from their home in the Mulhorand scrublands.
"You're still too sick, Thormud. We should wait a few more days until you're better," pleaded Kiril.
The dwarf patted her hand. "I might not have the luxury of a few more days."
"Don't be so god-cursed dramatic," the swordswoman huffed, but an uncharacteristic quaver in her tone belied her anger. She didn't know how to end the mysterious curse sapping the geomancer's life. Perhaps the best choice was to race to the Storm Spike and deal with whatever inhabited it. In so doing, perhaps the curse could be dissolved.
Many Qaherans, including Essam and Fadheela, followed Kiril, the geomancer, and the annoyingly underfoot Xet into the ravine that housed their hidden city. The Qaherans were impressed when Thormud spoke a word and the mineral destrier stirred. It rose from beneath the great sand dune that covered it during the evening's storm, shaking away the grit to reveal its strong lines. Kiril was relieved to see their supplies still lashed to the destrier's back.
After the excitement over the destrier, Prince Monolith showed himself. Unlike the destrier, he had submerged himself in the stone of the ravine wall. Without warning, he simply walked out of it, much to the Qaherans' consternation. A few Qaherans cried out in alarm.
"Don't worry-he's our friend," said Kiril.
The elemental noble bowed low to the dumbfounded elves,