The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [33]
She let her mind go blank, until her foe was the world. The wisp flashed before her, but it seemed to crawl through the air; the slightest motion was all it took to move out of its path, and she slashed her palm through the gleaming globe as it passed by. For an instant she wished that she had her knives, the long daggers that had belonged to her mother and to her grandmother before her, but it was no surprise that one should be forced to face the trials of the final lands with only hand and foot. Here she needed to prove the strength of her spirit and her knowledge of Vulkoor’s teachings. It was strange that the outlanders were allowed to keep their tools, but they were soft and weak, and it was hardly surprising that they were not pressed as hard as the children of the night.
The metal hunter still sought to aid Xu’sasar. An arrow passed through the heart of the wisp, but this second attack was insufficient to shatter the orb. She caught a flash of light in her peripheral vision as the humans brought down their prey. The last wisp had no desire to share the fate of its fellows, and it sped away across the field. Xu’sasar sprinted after the wisp, letting the panther’s speed flow through her limbs. She heard a warning in the back of her mind—they are deceivers—but the thrill of the hunt was upon her, and her prey would not escape her now. With every step she closed the distance between them. The wisp darted behind a tor and she raced after it, spinning around the corner.
The scorpion was waiting for her.
The Jalaq Qaltiar revered many spirits, but the greatest among them was the scorpion, known as vulkoor in the tongue of her people. Many lessons could be learned from Vulkoor, and the scorpion shared its armor and its venom with the drow. Many tribes refused to listen to any spirit but the scorpion, and her father had been killed in battle with drow who saw the pantheistic beliefs of the Qaltiar as heretical. For an instant Xu’sasar was paralyzed with fear. He has come to punish me.
Then he spoke. At first she thought he was speaking in the tongue of her people, then she realized that she couldn’t hear the actual words; she simply knew their meaning, as if his language was so primal that it bypassed all mortal knowledge.
“You have done well, warriors,” he said. His voice was deep and strong, and the mere sound of it seemed to push the lingering echoes of pain from Xu’sasar’s breast. “But your trials have just begun.”
The humans had come around the edge of the tor, the metal hunter behind them. Xu needed to act quickly; the outlanders were fools when it came to matters of the spirit, and the man was likely to raise his sword and doom them all. She fell to her knees, raising her palms before her.
“Forgive these people their ignorance, great Vulkoor,” she said. “You in your wisdom have let them walk this path. Tell us what we must do to find our way to the endless struggle.”
“What endless strug—” Daine said, but the mighty spirit cut him off.
“You honor me, Xu’sasar of the Broken Oath, but you are mistaken in many things. I am but a servant of Vulkoor. The highest spirits cannot be known in this life, even to those such as I. The path you walk does not lead to the endless struggle. Though you pass through the final lands, you still have a duty in the lands of the living.”
Xu’sasar reeled. How could she be so close to her destiny—so close to her reunion with her fallen kin—and have it torn away? Was she to be reborn in a lesser form? A thousand cries echoed through her mind, but one did not challenge the words of so great a spirit.
Apparently, no one had told Daine. “So we’re not dead?” he said.
Xu’sasar almost struck the rash human. If he angered the spirit, rebirth would be the least of the punishments it could inflict upon them. But the scorpion did not move, and when it spoke there was no trace of malice in its