The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [83]
“I know what they are,” Lei said. She was holding an unusual pair of goggles, with an assortment of adjustable lenses bound to leather straps. Her voice was quiet, and she seemed slightly pale.
“Lei?” Daine said, taking a step toward her. She stopped him with a raised hand.
“Get dressed,” she said quietly. “If Pierce says these things are safe, I’m sure they must be. Now let’s find out what the Dusk Queen serves for dinner.”
The great hall of Dusk was an imposing sight. Pillars of green marble rose up on each side, wrapped in delicate ivy strands formed from pure gold. Narrow streams flowed along both sides of the hallway, and the air resounded with the sounds of water and spectral music. Cricket fiddlers played in the shadows, and tiny men with butterfly wings played flutes and pipes from high in the air. The arched ceiling was painted with the image of the rosy sky of Dusk, and while it was static, it glowed with an inner light.
Pierce had rarely seen such spectacle. He had spent his life on the battlefield, with little time in the towers of lords or dragonmarked barons. Despite his best efforts, he still had trouble seeing the purpose in such things as golden ivy or painted walls. Many said that the warforged lacked the ability to appreciate art, but it wasn’t so simple. For Pierce, there was beauty in function. A well-made bow, a sturdy shield; these things inspired awe and respect in Pierce. The purpose of a building was to provide shelter and defense. The extravagant decorations were unnecessary.
They passed through a feasting hall with a table long enough to seat a hundred. It seemed their hostess intended a more personal experience, for the immense table was bare. They entered a far smaller chamber. An oval table dominated the center of the room, laid out with crystal goblets and large plates hidden beneath silver covers. A vast chandelier hung over the table, or so it seemed at first. As they approached the table, Pierce saw that it was a complex array of hundreds of points of light, suspended in the air with no visible means of support. The lights reflecting in the dark surface of the polished ebony table created the illusion of a starry sky.
“Please be seated!” Kin cried.
Xu’sasar sat next to Daine, while Lei chose the seat across from him. Pierce stood behind Lei and folded his arms.
“Master Pierce, do sit down!” Kin said. The fey courtier pointed to the place next to Lei, and Pierce realized that the chair was considerably larger than the others around the table—as if it had been specially prepared for someone of his height and mass.
“I do not eat or drink,” he said. “And my limbs do not tire.”
“Perhaps you’ve never eaten in the past,” Kin said, “but you would be wise to try our fare. And it would be an insult to her majesty if you were to stand at her table. Please indulge me.”
“Come, Pierce,” Lei said, pushing out the chair. “You don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Pierce settled into the proffered seat. As he had thought, it seemed to be the perfect size. He found himself wondering about Kin’s words. Try our fare? Pierce didn’t have a stomach. He couldn’t consume food if he wanted to.
“Please, help yourselves to food and drink,” Kin said. “I give you my promise that neither will harm you in any way. My mistress only wishes to strengthen you for the journey that lies ahead.”
“Lei?” Daine said.
Pierce could sense discomfort in the interactions between these two. Lei had not met Daine’s eyes since they had emerged from the bathhouse. There was anger in her, but there were still many conflicting emotions, things she was holding in. For now she studied Kin, weighing his words. “I believe him,” she said at last. “Go ahead and eat.”
Daine uncovered his plate. “Is this gorgon?” he said in surprise. “I haven’t had this since I was nine years old! And this sauce—red wine and