The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [100]
“You keep saying that,” Thorn said. “But you know what?”
Doresh stared at her, the empty sockets of his mask cold and hollow.
She shifted Steel into a fighting grip. “I don’t believe you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Taer Lian Doresh
Barrakas 25, 999 YK
You know nothing, mortal,” Doresh growled, and the stone in his brooch pulsed with light. “And I will not demean myself by fighting you. I am the Lord of Dreams made real, and to face me is to face your fears.”
They weren’t alone any longer. Cazalan Dal was between them, along with his companions in the Covenant of the Gray Mist. Shadowy blades were raised, and arcane energy crackled along the lengths of half a dozen wands.
Thorn could see the move in her mind, and she executed it flawlessly, an acrobat’s dream. She rolled forward, passing beneath the blast from Dal’s wand and driving Steel into his chest with the full strength of the dragon within her. Even as he grunted in pain, she lifted him up and threw him into the swordsman darting toward her.
“You can’t stop me with these dreams,” Thorn snarled. “They’re not real. They’re not my fears.”
It was true. The first time she’d fought Cazalan Dal, she had been afraid. She’d been concerned about the safety of the people in her charge. She’d wanted to take the assassin alive. Knowing that those things were just specters, images of people she’d never known—there was no fear in her, no reason to hold back. Thorn knew she would defeat them. She was a whirlwind of steel and fury. No blade could touch her, and every blow she struck was true. Within seconds her enemies had fallen, and she faced Doresh again.
“Are you ready to demean yourself now?”
Doresh hissed, his mask twisting in fury. His curved knife warped, the fluid metal stretching into a long, crescent blade suffused with a pale light. Then he was upon her.
Fighting the dreams had made Thorn overconfident. With his tattered cloak and threadbare armor, it was all too easy to think of Shan Doresh as a faded soldier, a spirit whose time had passed. Yet he struck with lightning speed and deadly precision. A thrust of the gleaming blade was an instant away from piercing her heart. She parried just in time, but he was already swinging the heavy scepter in his left hand; she felt a burst of pain as the rod struck her temple. It was only a momentary distraction, but in such a struggle, one moment could make all the difference. Abandoning all thought of offense, Thorn threw herself backward. The lunar blade slashed open her thigh as she rolled away.
If Doresh had followed her, that might have been the end, but once his blade was bloodied, the fallen eladrin wished to savor the battle. He smiled. “In truth, it has been decades since I have relied on my sword to finish a fight.”
As Thorn rose to her feet, she could practically see him remembering past victories.
“Come,” he said. The opalescent radiance of his sword pulsed, the flashing beat one more distraction. “Show me what little skill you possess.”
“I can do that from here,” Thorn said, flinging Steel at his throat.
The Stone of Dreams flashed as Doresh raised his scepter. He struck Steel out of the air with a casual disdain, and the dagger clattered across the floor. Thorn reached out with her thoughts … and nothing happened. Steel should have flown back to her hand; instead he remained still, a lump of cold metal on the floor.
Her moment of concern nearly cost her her life. Shan Doresh struck the moment her attention faltered. The light faded from his crescent blade, and it was almost invisible as he lunged. It was sheer instinct that saved her. She leaped back the moment she saw movement, and the distance gave her just enough room to catch the blade against a bracer. Doresh maintained the attack. Steel wasn’t in her hand, and Doresh unleashed a flurry of blows, moving forward as Thorn fell back. Her arms ached as she caught blow after blow against her vambraces.