Son of Khyber_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [35]
He’s laughing, Thorn realized.
Brom raised his arm and slammed it into the door. One blow was all it took. Darkwood splintered as the door fell off its frame, falling into the room beyond. Brom charged into the room, with Dreck and Thorn close on his heels.
It was dark in the windowless chamber, and Thorn’s sight shifted into darkvision to compensate. Compared to the barren halls and chambers of the rest of the manor, this room was positively cluttered. The soft fur of a giant steelbone bear, a vast and expensive carpet, covered the floor. A four-poster bed sat against the far wall, and this was the source of the dim light in the room. An illusion had been bound into the canopy over the bed, an image of the night sky complete with stars, moons, and the golden Ring of Siberys. Glancing around the room, Thorn saw a miniature castle, a perfect model complete with tiny soldiers walking the walls. There was a pile of books, a map of Khorvaire pinned to the wall, a warforged about the size of a halfling—a warforged that was now darting toward her, with gleaming blades extending from its wrists. It was quick, but not swift enough to close the distance before Thorn could react. She kicked it squarely in the face, and the little warforged staggered back. Before it could regain its balance, Brom’s massive fist came crashing down. Quick as it might be, the warforged wasn’t as durable as iron defenders, and the one blow was enough to crack joints and leave it twitching on the floor; Brom continued to pound until it fell still.
“So what are we looking for?” Thorn asked.
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Dreck replied. “We have come for the greatest treasure of Ilena and Merrix d’Cannith.”
He gestured at the bed, and Brom pulled the comforter from the frame with a mighty tug. A child was hidden beneath the blanket, a boy of perhaps eight years of age, curled into a ball and staring with wide eyes.
“And now we have found him,” Dreck said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dragon Towers
Lharvion 20, 999 YK
You’ve used your mark to stun before,” Dreck said, looking down at the quivering boy. “Do so now. Incapacitate the child for travel.”
Thorn hesitated. This was the turning point in her mission. If she complied, Dreck would take her to the Son of Khyber. And she’d done far worse in the service of her nation. But still, this was a child—and the son of one of the most powerful men in House Cannith. All of her arguments with Steel danced through her mind. Lord Merrix would surely want her to protect his son at all costs, to abandon the mission and kill Dreck and Brom. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. There were too many unanswered questions in her mind, and she wanted answers.
Dreck saw her reluctance but misjudged the reason. “Do you know how many aberrant children the houses have slaughtered over the centuries? Never mind the War of the Mark. To this day, there are enclaves where those born of two bloods are smothered in the cradle.”
Even as he spoke, Thorn heard Sorghan’s voice again: It’s time we destroyed Tarkanan’s brood. Beginning with you.
The boy was too frightened to speak. He pulled his arms and legs tight against his chest, staring at the bloody Brom.
I serve Breland, Thorn told herself. Not Cannith. I must see where this leads.
She knelt down next to the bed and took hold of the child’s arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, then she activated the false mark. This time there were no distractions, and she ground her teeth against the pain. The boy screamed as the agony coursed through him, and he finally collapsed against the bed.
“Take comfort, beloved. You have done well this day.” Dreck tossed her a coil of silk rope. “Now bind his limbs and still his tongue.”
Once she was done, Brom slid the boy into the enchanted sack, handing the bag to Thorn afterwards. It still looked empty, but there was surprising weight to it. Thorn had to throw it over her shoulder to support it.
“Move quickly,” Dreck said. “We must keep this treasure of Cannith hidden, but there is limited air within the sack. We