The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [1]
“What fragile things they are. I would not tolerate such weakness in my servants.”
He said nothing, and she drew closer, drifting over the snow. A precipitate of frost dusted the fabric of his tunic.
“Are you certain,” she said, “you did not stop at the fortress of your brethren before coming here? It is not so far away from Ar-tolor. Perhaps you desired to show them what you've found.”
“They are my brethren no longer. I am forbidden ever to return to my home—a condition I believe is familiar to you.”
Within the cowl, he caught the glint of a milky eye. “Be careful, mortal man!”
He laughed, no less surprised by this reaction than she. “Don't you think it's far too late for that, Shemal?”
She clucked her tongue. “So, do you have it?”
“I do.”
“Quickly—show it to me!”
He drew out the cloth bundle he had kept next to his heart all these leagues. Forgive me, my friend. Hoping she thought his trembling due to cold alone, he unwrapped the cloth, revealing a disk of creamy stone as large as his splayed hand. Inlaid in its surface was a silvery rune. Tal. Sky.
She reached out hands as pale as the disk.
“Do you want to hold it, then?”
A hiss escaped her, and she snatched her hands back. “Do you mock me?”
He kept his tone disinterested. “I shouldn't think so.” However, as he wrapped the bundle again, he felt a spark of triumph. He had guessed she would not dare touch the rune; surely its magic was at odds with her own. She needed him still, to bear the rune. And to break it.
True, there were two others in the world Shemal might have used to break the rune of sky. However, the runelord Kelephon served the Pale King, not her. And the man the Witches believed was the Runebreaker of prophecy, Travis Wilder, was a tool of her foe Melindora Nightsilver. So Shemal had sought out another Runebreaker, one she could make her slave, and she had found him. She had made him bow before her, and he had done so eagerly, pledging himself to her.
In all, the plan was nearly perfect. There was just one problem. He did not know how to break runes. And if she discovered that fact before he found a way to break the rune of sky, all hope was lost.
“You're thinking of something,” she said. “I see it in your eyes. Tell me what it is.”
“I was thinking of our master,” he lied quickly, trying not to look at the dead dove as he spoke. “He has been banished for more than an eon. Will he truly have the strength to do what he seeks?”
“Such petty thoughts! I had not believed you to be as weak as Liendra. How can you doubt the power of the Lord of Nightfall?”
“He was defeated once. He was banished beyond the circle of the world by the elder gods and the deities of Tarras, just as you and I were banished ourselves.”
“Yet we will all have our victories in the end. And those who dared to cast us out will prostrate themselves at our feet before we destroy them.” She brushed slender fingers against the trunk of the tree, and its bark turned black where she touched it.
“You will see,” Shemal said, her words soft now. “I confess, not long ago, I felt doubts such as yours. The Great Stones Krondisar and Sinfathisar were lost, and the sorcerers of Scirath proved as worthless as insects. So powerful they claimed to be. They would open a gate between worlds, letting Mohg step through. All I had to do was show them how to dig up some dead city lost in the sands of the south.” A sharp laugh escaped her. “Of course, I knew nothing of this city they sought, but I told them I would reveal it to them if they did what they said. I knew it wouldn't matter, that once the Lord of Nightfall returned to Eldh the Scirathi would be his slaves or be annihilated.”
He stamped his feet, trying in vain to warm them inside his boots. She had deceived the sorcerers, just as he was trying to deceive her. Could he really hope to best her at her own game? Look what had happened to the Scirathi.
“The sorcerers were destroyed,” he murmured.
Fear gripped him. He had not