The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [43]
“Balinor’s bow!” She jerked backward, nearly dropping her staff.
Daine pressed past her, his sword gleaming in the eldritch light. He saw three writhing tendrils disappear into the shadows, oily black and glittering silver. He poked at the underbrush and caught a glimpse of a pair of pale eyes, before it disappeared into the undergrowth.
Lei seized his arm. Daine flinched, waiting for the excruciating pain that had accompanied their last moment of contact, but all he felt was the pressure of her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breathing deeply. “I just … I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Only a few snakes,” Daine said. “It’s nothing to worry about. Let me take the lead. You just tell me which way to go.”
Lei nodded and Daine pushed forward. A few more serpents slid away into the shadows as Lei’s light fell upon them. Lei shuddered whenever she saw sinuous motion. Daine was certain there was something behind this strange fear. She’d seen far worse in the Mournland and the sewers of Sharn, and never reacted in this way. But he knew to leave it alone if she didn’t want to talk about it. They could survive a few snakes.
Then he looked up.
The trees were covered with serpents.
Black and silver scales were almost invisible against nightshadowed bark and the light of the moon, but now he saw the motion in the branches, the heavy coils hanging from the boughs. The viper that darted away from the light was barely as thick as his thumb; looking up, Daine found himself gazing into the eyes of a scaled beast whose head was larger than his own. Dozens of cold eyes were watching them, and looking at the silhouette against the moonlight, it seemed as if the trees themselves were moving.
Daine said nothing, glancing at Pierce. The warforged had his eyes on the canopy, his last arrow nocked to his bow. Should a serpent strike, Daine was certain it would fall with that arrow through its skull. Xu’sasar was nowhere to be seen, but Daine was beginning to expect that.
“I’m sorry, Daine,” Lei said, right behind him. “I know this is stupid, especially with everything you’ve gone through. It’s just … when I saw those snakes moving, I remembered that thing below Sharn. The mind flayer.”
She was talking about a horror they’d fought when they’d first arrived in Sharn, the squid-faced monstrosity that had murdered Jode and almost killed Lei. Daine could only imagine the trauma of seeing such a creature looming over him, tentacles reaching down to grip his skull … he could certainly understand her fear.
The ground was uneven, and a maze of treacherous roots hid beneath the carpet of moss. In the gloom of night, vines and roots were all too easily mistaken for snakes, the shadows creating monsters at every turn. But it was a different sort of serpent that brought their progress to a halt. Pressing forward, Daine saw a glittering, sinuous shape stretched across their path. It was no snake, nor even a living creature.
It was a river.
The river formed a canyon through the dense forest, a rift in the dense canopy of foliage. Looking up, Daine could see the sky. As on the moor, there was only one moon in the sky, but this moon was larger than the last had been, and silvery-white. The stars formed unfamiliar patterns, and Daine was comforted by how faint they seemed to be. The water of the river was eerily silent, and to his eyes it seemed perfectly still … as if it were frozen.
Daine knelt on the shore. He wasn’t much of a swimmer, but with water this calm, perhaps they could make it across. He could just see the far side of the river, another wall of trees rising in the darkness. As Daine knelt by the water, a sibilant whisper filled the air—the eerie song of Lei’s staff.
“Stop!” Lei’s voice was low and urgent. Her hand gripped his cloak, pulling with surprising strength; Daine stumbled, his left hand sinking into the moist earth as he flailed to keep from falling.
“What?”
“Don’t touch the water. I don’t exactly