The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [102]
“There was nothing wretched about that troll,” Sheshka said. Her serpents seemed limp, her movements sluggish. “That was a war troll of the Great Crag, one of the personal host of Sora Maenya. I’m certain you noticed the skin of steel, and the speed at which it healed.”
“I’ve never been an expert on trolls.”
Sheshka staggered, falling against the side of the hydra, and Thorn took a step forward.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be fine,” Sheshka stammered, though her voice quavered as she spoke. “Used more … energy … than I anticipated.”
“You saved us.” Thorn glanced over her shoulder, where Harryn was staring down at the bones of the troll. “Stormblade. Are you injured?”
“I’ve suffered worse,” he said. He ran his fingers across the new gouges in his armor.
“Then I’d consider it a personal favor if you thanked our savior.”
Sheshka’s vipers all turned at once, shifting to look away from the knight. Stormblade hesitated, but he approached the two women and dropped to one knee, laying his sword before him.
“Lady Sheshka—”
“Queen Sheshka,” she said softly.
Thorn was skilled at reading people—tells were as vital as spells, and she always watched others’ emotions. Harryn Stormblade was a stern and serious man, and he hid his feelings well. But he was taken off guard. Something ran deeply between these two.
“Queen Sheshka,” he said at last. “I thank you for the risks you have taken on my behalf. There is no token of my gratitude I can give that I haven’t offered before. I am unaware of much, and I trust you will forgive my ignorance.”
“Will you forgive me?” she said. Her serpents peered backward over her shoulders, as shy as vipers could be.
Stormblade hesitated, but his voice was firm. “No.”
“You’d be dead if not for her,” Thorn said. “Twice.”
Harryn looked at Thorn, and she could feel the storm twisting within him. “I know nothing of this. Centuries have passed. Perhaps things—and people—have changed. But I am still living in your yesterday, and I cannot change how I feel so quickly.” He looked at Sheshka. “I am sorry, my lady—your majesty—but I cannot forgive you yet.”
A few of the snakes hissed quietly, but Sheshka looked at him kindly. “I understand.”
Thorn didn’t, but she had other concerns. “Sheshka, I need to get Harryn back to Breland. I know that you have troubles of your own—”
“Let us travel north together,” Sheshka said. “I can call a winged messenger and send word ahead to Cazhaak Draal. We can have you astride a wyvern and on your way back to Breland within three days.”
“Can you bring your scaly friend?” The hydra was sniffing around the alley, looking for more corpses.
“He’s too large to fit through the tunnel to the surface. I fear I shall have to petrify him again. I don’t want him to starve.”
“What about the moons?” Harryn Stormblade had risen to his feet, and his voice was grim.
“What do you mean?” Thorn said.
“How many moons are in the sky?”
Thorn hesitated. “Six.”
“Don’t you see? It’s happening again. This is why I have been restored.” His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “The Wild Heart reaches out to the world above. Tonight, as the six moons pass over his tower, the Moonlord will taint them with his magic, and that evil will spread to all the skinchangers. That cannot be allowed to happen. This is destiny.”
“And yet you failed before,” Sheshka said. Thorn could tell that the ghosts of the past were haunting the conversation. “You were stripped of your identity and left for dead. But the world survived. The soldiers of the Silver Flame did what you could not. This is not a task for one man … or two women.”
Stormblade’s voice rose with his retort, but Thorn wanted to hear another voice. She took a step back, giving Sheshka and Harryn room to argue, and ran her fingers along Steel’s hilt.
I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.
“I’ve been busy,” she muttered. “What do you think?”
Intriguing. Much about lycanthropy remains a mystery. As Sheshka said, some lycanthropes are driven to murder and depravity, while a few live solitary, peaceful lives. We know