The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [90]
I mean you no harm, Shira thought. Try as he might, it was impossible for Pierce to hide his thoughts from her, which only increased his fears. Pierce, I have been alone for for more than thirty-five thousand years. My home no longer exists. I am not like Lakashtai. I am the last of my kind. If I said nothing, it was because of my own fears. Please. Do not leave me alone again.
When Pierce had first acquired Shira, she had been cold and impersonal. It had taken some time for Pierce to be certain that there was a personality within the sphere, that it was more than just a tool. She’d kept distance between them. Now he felt her emotions—her sorrow, her fear.
He just didn’t know if he believed them.
The companions stood, and as they moved away from the table, Thelania approached Pierce. “So, child of war, are you ready for the battles that lie ahead?”
“Why do you ask?” Pierce said.
“You walk into danger with no weapon in your hand. I have given each of your companions a gift. Did you think yourself forgotten?”
“I need nothing from you,” Pierce said. Her cold laughter still rang in his mind. She might not be an enemy, but he could not find it within himself to consider her a friend.
“And I offer you nothing of mine,” she replied. “I wish to help you find what lies within.”
“Leave him alone,” Daine said. “And summon your servant. We’re leaving.”
“Kin will be here soon, Daine.”
Thelania walked around Pierce. A few of the sparks from the floating chandelier followed her. She placed her hand on Pierce’s quiver, and Pierce found himself nearly recoiling from her touch. The quiver was a part of Pierce, embedded into his back, and the exterior shell had all of the sensation of his armored skin.
“Only one arrow, Pierce? What is a warrior without a weapon?”
“I am more than just a warrior,” Pierce replied.
“You are more than you know,” Thelania said. “And you are warrior and weapon. Reach within, Pierce.” She took his hand and slowly guided it to the quiver. “Reach within yourself.”
“Pierce?” Lei said. “Are you hurt?”
As his hand touched his quiver, Pierce realized that there was something to what they said. He had felt a void ever since Indigo had destroyed his flail. He’d dismissed it as shame and the loss of a familiar sensation, the comforting weight of the weapon in his hand. Now he realized that void was within him, not his hand. Reaching back into his quiver, he reached into that void …
And found a weapon.
It should have been impossible. The quiver wasn’t deep enough to hold anything but arrows. Yet as he closed his hand, he drew forth a long flail. The weapon was similar in design to the one he’d lost, but lighter, the balance as perfect as any weapon he’d ever held. Though the ball and chain appeared to be made from gold, a touch proved that they were far too strong to be soft gold. Steel banded the haft, and the foot of the weapon was the steel head of a black lion. Shira was analyzing the magical properties of the flail—the ability of the ball to produce radiant light and heat, supernatural strength of the metal and remarkable accuracy—but Pierce didn’t need her to tell him. The weapon was a part of him. It had been there all along. He reached into the void a second time, and he felt the quiver fill with arrows.
“Captain,” he said, testing the weight of the flail. “I am ready.”
Lei’s thoughts were in turmoil as they rode through the sunset fields. Kin led them toward the sunset. There was no path to follow, and they pressed on through wildflowers and weeds. The emissary had been waiting for them at the front gate, with final gifts from the faerie queen: backpacks of oiled leather with golden buckles, filled with food, drink, and healing salves; and five horses, beautiful black steeds with silver manes, and white spots scattered across their flanks.
Her mind drifted back to their departure, the final words of the queen.
“If you wish to leave, I shall not delay you any further,” Thelania had said. “Farewell, Daine. We shall not meet again.”
“And what of Darkheart?