Darkvision - Bruce R. Cordell [83]
As they said their good-byes, Essam produced a wide, curved scabbard from his cloak. He said, "Kiril, please accept this, a gift from the Al Qahera."
"A sword? But I already…" the swordswoman trailed off. Not too long ago she'd wished for another weapon, one she could draw forth without imperiling her mind and soul, as was the case with Angul.
"This was Feraih's blade, and it carries a minor enchantment. Please use it to strike against whatever killed Feraih, and presumably, Ghanim and Haleem. In this way, Feraih's soul can rest easy."
Kiril, unaccustomed to ceremonial politeness, said, "Thanks." She took the scabbard, and with her other hand pulled out the blade. As she did so, she distinctly felt Angul shift in his scabbard. He wasn't happy about her hand on another sword's hilt, that was clear. She smiled. Too bad.
Essam said, "This blade is called Sadrul, and it is the sharpest blade in the city-so sharp, Feraih once used it to divide a man's dignity from his self-esteem."
"What?"
Essam laughed, "A joke! Heh! But all the same, Sadrul is very sharp. Be careful."
"I will," promised Kiril, "and thank you again. If I can use it to get vengeance for Feraih, I will."
Essam nodded, slapped the side of the destrier in farewell, and turned toward the cave mouth of Al Qahera.
Thormud guided the destrier down the ravine and toward Prince Monolith. Kiril looked back and saw the small group waving at them. Moisture caught in her eyes. What the blood? She was tougher than this. But despite her short stay among the desert elves, she had become, briefly, part of their community. The feeling had been outside her experience for more years than she cared to count-since before Stardeep, really.
She strapped Sadrul to her belt. Angul shifted again and rumbled a note of displeasure.
"Don't worry, lover," she said, reaching back to pat the larger blade's scabbard. "You're still my number-one killer." Angul stirred and grumbled anew, probably objecting to the label "killer" she'd chosen.
Despite her praise, Kiril knew that the next time she needed to solve a problem with sharpened steel, she'd draw Sadrul. If the blade measured up to Essam's claim, it might see more time out of the scabbard than the Blade Cerulean. Until she required Angul's exceptionally potent abilities, he would remain unhappily sheathed.
They topped the ravine. Morning sun blazed across Raurin's wasted plain. Striated dunes stretched away to the north, east, and west. The heat hugged the swordswoman, and fine beads of perspiration immediately broke on her brow.
Monolith thundered forward, his great feet sending up sprays of sand. At the limit of Kiril's perception, on the northern horizon, something flashed and twinkled with reflected light. Something purple.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Eined Datharathi motioned for the vengeance taker and wizard to pause. They'd already traveled several abandoned, unlighted tunnels, but Eined guided them without indecision, relying on Ususi's light. She whispered, "The new excavation is just ahead, down this passage. Not far beyond is the extraction area for the crystal. You must help me destroy it."
Ususi looked at Iahn. They owed this woman, but they needed "the source of the crystal" to travel back to Deep Imaskar. Iahn gave a slight shrug.
Ususi said, "We'll do what we can, Eined." She hadn't quite lain aside her initial distrust of Eined. While events had done nothing to paint the Datharathi defector as anything but what she claimed, the possibility lurked that she was leading the two Deep Imaskari into a fiendishly designed trap.
Eined nodded and moved forward. They rounded a bend, and Ususi saw ruins. Imaskaran ruins, without a doubt, but older even than the empty outpost where Iahn had first found her.
Crumbling, half-excavated walls of purple stone cast dark shadows in the light of several dazzling magical lanterns. Small outcrops of Nadir crystal glinted here and there, somehow obscene in their excess. Stepped excavations revealed deeper structures in three locations