The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [31]
It was one thing to hear the effect described, another to actually be caught within the isolating gloom. “Cadrel?” she said. “Drix?”
There was no response. We’re moving forward, so they must both still be there, Thorn thought. If Cadrel stopped rowing, we’d be going in circles.
Just to be sure, she reached out to where Cadrel had been. She felt the pressure of his body against her hand. Still there. Nonetheless, there was a disturbing numbness to the sensation, a slight chill in her nerves with no sense of the warmth in the old man’s body. Another vision flashed through her mind, of the mist clearing to reveal the rotting corpses sharing the boat with her, Drix’s dead eyes staring straight ahead.
Just keep rowing, she thought.
With no sight and no sound, there was no way to know how close they were to the shore and only the vaguest sense that they were moving forward at all. At times the mist clung to her skin; it was more like thick cobweb than fog, and she could feel it tugging at her arms, trying to reach beneath her gloves and caress her skin. She clenched her teeth together and kept rowing, and the sensation passed.
It might have been hours. It might have been minutes. The hardest thing was holding on to hope. She told herself that every stroke was bringing her closer to shore, but she couldn’t really believe it. More and more, she found herself thinking that she’d never see the light again, that they’d never find their way out, that she’d be rowing until the oar rotted away and she was left alone to drift in the mist.
Was it beginning to fade? She could see Cadrel next to her, his silhouette becoming clearer with each moment. Or was it Cadrel? The shadow seemed too lean, a younger man, lacking Cadrel’s beard. Then he spoke.
“So you still don’t remember. You still think you’re Thorn.”
It took all of her will to hold to her oar, to continue rowing. She knew she was imagining it. But she remembered that voice and those words.
Drego Sarhain.
When she’d met him, he was serving as an agent of Thrane. In time, she’d discovered his true nature. He was a demon of deception, an ancient fiend engaged in a shadowy war she still knew nothing about. And in their last meeting, he’d claimed to know things about her she still didn’t want to believe.
“You’re Sarmondelaryx. The Angel of Flame. The Devourer of Souls. Condemned by the Conclave of Argonnessen, yet they need you, if the prophecy is to fall as they wish it. Embrace the dragon within you. Embrace her power. Let us be together and mock dragon and tiger alike.”
“No,” she whispered. She knew the voice was only in her imagination. But in the utter silence and gloom, it was easy to drift into the memory, to have something to hold on to. She remembered that gleam in Drego’s eyes as he looked at her.
“Every time you draw on her power, she grows stronger,” he whispered. “It’s only a matter of time.” She could see him, lying on the ground and looking up at her, her dagger against his throat.
And the boat ran aground. The jolt shook the vision from her mind, and she was back in the utter silence of the mists.
Setting down the oar, Thorn reached out, finding Drix and Cadrel. Fears lingered at the back of her mind as Drix’s hand closed around hers, but she pushed them away. The water was cold and silent, and a moment later, they were on dry land.
Drix took the lead, and Thorn let the rope play out to give him a little room. The ground shifted beneath her feet: sand. Once she had a hand free, she drew Steel.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she said. “But I’m thinking Drix had the right idea.”
I can hear you perfectly, Steel said. The world around Thorn was silent, but his whisper was still clear in her head. Are you having difficulty?
“Thank Onatar for the smith that made you,” Thorn said. After the endless silence, the familiar voice was an anchor. “I can’t hear a damned thing.”
Fascinating. It must be some sort of mental effect—an illusion of sorts, affecting your ability to perceive your surroundings. Have you been experiencing other delusions?
“You might