The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [76]
“Are those the other gates?” Thorn said.
“Yes,” Drix murmured. “This … is a conduit for the power of the dragonmark. The links … are here.”
“You don’t have the dragonmark,” Thorn said. The scraping of glass against the door was growing louder, and her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with another idea to keep them alive. There was no furniture whatsoever in the room, nothing that she could use to reinforce the door.
“No. But I have power. It’s like … a lock pick. You need to feel the shape of the lock, to let the energy flow into the pattern it’s searching for.”
“We don’t have much time, Drix. Can you do this?”
The glow from Drix’s crystal heart was brighter, the pulse speeding up. “It’s not right. It’s not … what I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can feel them. I can feel the circles. The map. And something else. Another layer. Hidden.”
“That’s fascinating,” she said. “And perhaps you’ll have a chance to investigate it when we don’t have an angry spirit carving its way through the door. Can you get us to Tantamar?”
“Closer,” he said. His eyes were closed and sweat ran down his face, mixed with blood from his wounds. “Closer. I can feel it. Pull away the shroud. Yes …”
“We don’t have time, Drix!” Thorn shouted. “Get this thing working and—”
She broke off as new sparks spread across the walls. They were darker, points of crimson light. Some were clustered close around the original gates; there were two additional gates in Wroat, and Sharn was a burning knot of lights. Others were off on their own, scattered in the wilds.
Secret gates? Thorn thought. House Orien has a network hidden from the public eye?
Any other time Thorn would have been desperate to study the map, to make a note of every location. But the sound of glass scraping against wood was growing ever louder.
She held Steel in front of her. “Study these points. Remember what you can.” Her attention was focused on the east coast, the great expanse of the Whitepine Forest. “There! Drix, you’re right. South of Tantamar, near Mutiny Harbor. Can you isolate that gate?”
“Trying,” Drix said through clenched teeth. The sparks flared up, one at a time, coming ever closer to the gate they needed. Even as the focal point drifted east, there was a splintering sound and a few fragments of wood fell to the floor.
“Flame!” Thorn swore. “If you can’t isolate it, then get us to Tantamar.”
“One more moment …”
“We don’t have another moment! Get us as close as you can, but do it now!”
Another chunk of wood struck the floor. A shard of glass fell through and shattered against the ground. As Thorn’s spirits fell, Drix cried out. The crystal heart pulsed with a brilliant radiance, a beacon of light even beneath Drix’s torn clothes. The glittering flames shrouding the teleportation ring rose up toward the ceiling, a curtain of cold fire. Drix staggered away from the podium, and Thorn caught him before he fell.
“Now,” he cried. “It won’t last long.”
Lifting him up in her arms, Thorn dived into the light. She heard the door shattering, the storm flowing into the room. Then it all fell away. For a moment she was tumbling through space, vertigo surrounding her, then gravity and reality seized her and forced her back to the world. Her mind reeled, senses rebelling at the sudden change in her surroundings. The disorientation passed in a moment, as her new surroundings became clear. There were maps on the walls around them, a gleaming circle carved into the floor. But walls and floor were stone instead of wood, brilliant white marble that seemed to harness the light from the cold-fire lanterns. The chamber was smaller. And there was a woman standing right in front of them … with a wand leveled at Thorn’s head.
“You’ve got exactly five words to save your life,” she said.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Pit
Barrakas 25, 999 YK
House Orien was in the business of transportation. The challenge had been