The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [25]
A new sound filled the air: a distant horn, rising up against the darkness.
A hunting horn.
The bay of hounds began anew. And this time there were clearly more than two hounds. This was a full pack.
“You see?” Xu’sasar folded her arms. “The Huntsman comes. My deeds have brought you here, but only you can earn your final passage.”
Daine glanced at Lei, who rolled her eyes.
“We’re not dead,” she said. “I told you, there are portals to Thelanis across Eberron. Some of her people must have found one, stumbled through it, and come up with this story.”
“Fine,” Daine said. “Right now, I don’t care if we’re alive or dead. I just don’t want to be any deader.”
“There are fates far worse than death,” Xu’sasar said as the hunting horn sounded again, nearer still. “Worse even than your feeble death-of-fading. Fight fiercely and well.”
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with!” Lei said. “We don’t know if this is your ‘huntsman.’ We don’t know if he means us any harm.”
“You may not,” Xu’sasar said. “I do. And the time for talking is at an end.” She turned and walked around the sphere, and as she slipped away, the shadows seemed to rise up and engulf her.
Daine grabbed Lei’s shoulder before she could charge after the dark elf. “Enough,” he said. “You’re right. We don’t know the situation, and I don’t want to be the first to strike. Pierce, I want you in high cover.”
Pierce glanced up at the crater sunk into the shell of the crystal sphere. Daine nodded, and the warforged slung his bow and scaled the edge of the carriage, crouching in the gaping wound.
Daine turned to Lei. “Did you make the blinder?”
Lei took her left hand off the shaft of her staff, revealing the golden glyph painted on the palm of her glove.
“Good. We’re strangers here, and whatever Princess Xu may think, we’re not going to attack unless they make the first move. But if we are beset by a pack of ravenous hounds—”
“Agreed,” Lei said.
“Otherwise, best to keep it simple, I think.” He drew his sword and dagger. “Back against the wall. If either of you are seriously injured, get inside the sphere. Lei, can you still close the portal?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Than that’s our redoubt. Be ready to fall back if needed. That goes for you too, Xu!” he called. The drow woman was nowhere to be seen.
“I told you not to—” said Lei.
“You’re just jealous because she knows more about the afterlife than you do,” Daine said.
“We’re not dead!”
“And let’s keep it that way.” The baying of the hounds drew ever closer. “Stand ready.”
The pack came into view.
Seven hounds loped forward in a perfect wedge formation. They moved in eerie unison, every motion precisely aligned. Despite their apparent bulk, each dog moved with a fluid grace. Remembering Pierce’s tale, Daine wondered if the beasts were made of flesh at all, or if they were simply pure blood bound in canine form.
A single rider emerged from the cover of the tor, close on the heels of his hounds. Tall and lean, the man rode a sleek black stallion, whose coat shimmered in the moonlight. The hunter carried a short spear in his right hand, and on his left arm … Daine had to glance up to be certain his eyes weren’t deceiving him, for he first thought the man had pulled the moon from the sky and was using it as a shield. The moon still shone above, but the disk on the Huntsman’s arm was a perfect mirror of it, golden and glowing.
The shield seemed to draw all light away from the rider himself; even as he drew closer, all Daine could see was a silhouette, occasionally sparkling with a flash of silver or gold. “Pierce,” he called. “If there’s trouble, I want the horse down first.”
“Understood.”
The rider passed the last tor, and now Daine could see that the Huntsman wore a flowing black cloak studded with gleaming stars. A coat of mail covered his chest, dark steel glittering in the light from his shield. A deep hood hid his face.
Even as Daine braced for