The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [100]
“No.” Thorn tried to keep watch for approaching torches. “Who was he?”
“A mage in the dark lands of the west. Some said he was a wizard, a student of Mordain the Fleshweaver. But as I pursued him, I learned a different truth. He was not a man at all, but a shapeshifter, a tiger in human flesh. He served an ancient power, a darkness from the very dawn of time, a force that embodies all our fears of the wild.
“I have known shifters. And I have even met werewolves who were not creatures of evil, who were simply drawn to the woods. But all who carry that mark can be brought under the sway of Drukan’s ancient master. Six moons—that was what he sought. Under the light of six moons, he could shake the bonds of the slumbering fiend, empower the skinchangers, and bring them under his sway. They would spread the curse across the land, and as their power grew, so would that of the chained demon, until he could finally burst his shackles and usher in an age of savagery.”
Harryn paused, his eyes clouded.
“I fought monsters and minions. I seized the Orb of Olarune. I made my way to the ancient mountain fortress, but I could not find his tower of shadows. And that is the last thing I remember … standing in a field of statues, knowing the moons would soon rise.”
He shook his head.
“At least the horror was contained. Even at the cost of thousands of lives. At least Galifar survives.”
Thorn had been drawn in by the story, and she found herself at a loss for words. She could sense Harryn’s pain. But this was not the time to try to explain the Last War. And there was something else …
“Wait,” she said. “Did you say six moons?”
Harryn’s answer was cut short by snarls.
Thorn and Harryn were in a wide alleyway, bordered on either side by piles of shattered statues. Now dark shapes emerged on either side of them, light flooding the area as the Aundairian sorceress threw a glowing sphere into the air. A massive gray wolf stood alongside the woman, and four wererats stared at Thorn with hungry eyes. On the other side, three wolves were spread around a truly terrifying figure. Once, it had been a giant troll—fearsome enough, possessing tremendous strength. But its features were blended with the worst aspects of the bear. Ursine eyes glared out of sunken sockets. Its snout bristled with yellowed fangs, and its long and twisted fingers were tipped with vicious claws. He roared, and his breath was thick with the scent of blood and flesh.
“I don’t know who you are,” the woman said. The dragonhawk crest gleamed on her breast, and energy crackled around her fingers. “But your answer to my next question will determine just how long it takes for you to die. Where is the Queen of Stone?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Ossuary
Droaam
Eyre 20, 998 YK
You will have no answer from me,” Harryn said. “I know you for what you are, and I pity you.”
So much for talking our way out of it, Thorn thought.
The woman laughed. “Bold,” she said. “I like you. If there were more time, I should like to keep you. I think you’d sing a different tune after I’d had a taste of you. But the moons grow closer with each moment, and there is much to do. Kurlun, take them. The rest of you, keep them bound in this place.”
The wolves and rats spread apart, forming living walls to seal off the alleyway. Any doubts as to Kurlun’s identity were dispelled as the trollbear lunged toward them. It moved with terrifying speed, and sparks flew from the stone as Thorn leaped over its blow. She brought the myrnaxe spear down on the troll’s hand, hoping to pin the beast to the ground. But to her surprise and dismay, the flesh beneath the trollbear’s ragged fur was as hard as iron, and her strike slipped aside. Surprised, she was unprepared when the beast lashed out with the back of its hand. Its strength was astonishing, and even this glancing blow sent Thorn staggering into the heaped statues.
Stormblade fared