The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [35]
Chaos. That’s what troubled Daine.
“We’re following a haunted stick, which is going to help us to hunt a boar,” Daine said, “because a scorpion says that’s the only way we can get through the night. And why do we think this makes sense?”
“It’s not about sense,” Lei replied. “This is Thelanis. This is the source of faerie tales and superstitions. Remember the story of the Tower of Thorns, where Kellan kills the ogre and its ribcage becomes a ladder? That’s what we’re dealing with. This is a world of magic, not logic.”
“So you’re saying that we should believe it because it doesn’t make sense?”
“No. I’m saying that it doesn’t matter.” Lei raised her staff. “The spirit in the wood wants to lead us somewhere. We can choose to follow. We can look for a boar. Or we can wander aimlessly around this wasteland waiting for more stars to fall from the sky and kill us.”
Daine glanced at Pierce, who had remained silent throughout the exchange with the scorpion. “Pierce, anything to add? Any insight from your mysterious friend?”
“No,” Pierce said. “My companion is disturbed by this realm. It is sensitive to the flow of mystical energies, and the ambient level of magic in this place is causing it pain. I agree with Lei. We have nothing to lose from hunting this beast, and I would rather pursue a goal than act without guidance.”
“Why do you question this?” Xu’sasar said. The drow girl was just behind Daine, having slipped closer while he talked to the others. “We have a goal now, a path to follow.”
“I don’t like other people choosing my path,” Daine said. “Still, we don’t have much of a choice. But let’s not go into this blind. Lei, I want you to charge Pierce’s bow. Make it more effective against animals. I want this to be as quick as we can make it.”
“Be without fear,” Xu’sasar said, even as Lei took Pierce’s bow and began whispering over it. “Mine is the speed of the shifting panther, and I strike with the skill of the scorpion. This beast shall not escape us.”
“I’m not worried about it escaping,” Daine said. “Let me explain something to you. If you’re going to stay with us, you need to do what I say. When I come up with a plan, you follow it. If you can’t do that, go looking for your own boar. I don’t care how fast you are. We work as a unit, or not at all.”
Daine expected a hostile response. Instead Xu’sasar glanced down at the ground. “I meant no harm with my actions. I am the last of my tribe. Now my place is with you, and I will do as you say.”
Her voice was low, her words slower than usual. For a moment, the mask of the deadly warrior seemed to fall. Since the fight in the planar sphere, Xu’sasar had been arrogant, overconfident, grating. But … last of my tribe. Daine had expected her to be grateful to be saved, but he’d never considered what she’d lost. He didn’t know her relationship to Shen’kar or the other drow that had died at Karul’tash. But she was alone, just as far from home as the rest of them were, without even the comfort of familiar faces. It was impossible to tell her age—had she been human he might have guessed eighteen or twenty years, but an elf could reach a century with few signs to show for it. Still, in this moment she seemed like a child, embarrassed, lonely, and confused. She wanted to help, to impress him with her skills, and he’d snarled at her.
“I know you’re skilled. I’m sure we’ll need your help if we’re going to get through this. I just need you to follow my orders. I need to know what my people are going to do. Strike out on your own and you place us all in jeopardy. Understood?”
Xu’sasar didn’t look at him, but she clicked her tongue. Daine remembered the drow captain Shen’kar doing the same thing as a sign of affirmation. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, and found only empty air; dejected as she was, Xu’sasar apparently had no need of physical comfort.
“Done,” Lei called.
“Good. Now, make a tangler. We let your staff lead the way, and hope that it has a taste for boar. Xu, Pierce, I want