The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [64]
Only Lady Tira was left. “Perhaps it was my hand that set this tragedy in motion,” she said. “And so I must offer the greatest gift of all. I know you do not believe in what we seek to do. You do not believe that we can save your land by saving Marudrix. And so I make my offer to you. Aid us in this matter, and I will tell you the truth.”
“The truth?” Thorn said. “About what?”
“About you,” Tira said. “There are secrets within you. Even now, I can see that they weigh upon you. I do not know how you came by the Preserving Shard or the Quiet Stone. But serve me in this, and I will tell you. If you forge this bond between us and survive it, I will reach through that bond to read your soul. I will tell you all you wish to know about your past.”
“I need to think about this,” Thorn turned away, staring at the glittering prison that held Cadrel. She rubbed Steel against her palm. “It still seems like madness.”
I cannot offer any guidance in this matter, Steel whispered. It might be best to return and inform the Citadel of Cadrel’s betrayal as quickly as possible. On the other hand, you were sent to gather information about these creatures, and you are certainly doing that. And there is one more factor.
She tapped Steel thoughtfully.
The Mourning. The tale that first brought us here. Unlikely as before, yet still … What if there is truth to it? What if they can bring an end to the Mourning?
“What can you tell me about the risks?” she said.
“Nothing,” Tira said behind her, and Steel echoed the word in her mind. “All we know are that he draws on fear and nightmare.”
Thorn walked over to stand before the icy coffin. She thought about Cadrel. About the time she’d spent with him at the galas in Sharn, the trek through the Mournland. She thought about his smile and the strange, dark eyes, and what she still saw of the old man in that face. He was playing a game, certainly, but what was it?
“Let’s break the ice,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
“I knew you’d see the wisdom in it,” Cadrel said once he could speak again. “There are so many things I can tell you … if you survive, of course.”
The spymaster was still bound in his prison of ice, staring at her with those inky eyes. The pits of shadow made it difficult for Thorn to read his expression, but still, she didn’t feel menace in him. What are you playing at? she thought.
“Let’s get this over with.”
She leaned forward but Cadrel pulled his head back. “I’m supposed to kiss you with my hands bound in this way? With you pressed against the ice? Oh, my dear, this hardly seems fair or pleasant for you. Would you ask a master to play an instrument without his hands?”
“You didn’t say anything about the bonds,” Thorn told him. “If you want the kiss, let’s be done with it now. Otherwise, I’m taking the next boat to Breland.”
Cadrel glanced up toward the heavens for a moment. “It is your loss, my dear. Though perhaps the ice will be sufficient to reduce my ardor, to keep from overwhelming you with the fire of my passion. Perhaps—”
Thorn put one hand behind his head and pushed her lips against his …
And the world fell away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Mournland
Barrakas 24, 999 YK
A moment earlier she’d been pressed against a slab of ice, staring into the shadow-filled eyes of a traitor. When she looked around, the ice was gone. She wasn’t in the fey citadel anymore. She was in a hallway that had haunted her dreams for the past year. Behind her, a wall of whirling dragonshards rose from floor to ceiling, a glittering whirlwind that could tear a man to pieces.
Far Passage.
The man in her arms was as familiar as the room, tall and lean, his black shiftweave pulling the darkness to him. Vambraces of blackened mithral, just like those she wore, covered his arms. He pulled back from the kiss, and his smile was as warm as she remembered.
Lharen. Her mentor when she’d first joined the Dark Lanterns. He’d died