The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [103]
“And that time, we had a united kingdom,” Thorn murmured. The Church of the Silver Flame might have provided the soldiers, but under old Galifar, the church was expected to pursue supernatural threats across the breadth of the realm. Now, the bulk of the military force of the church was aligned with Thrane. Even if the Keeper of the Flame made the offer, the Brelish wouldn’t welcome the presence of Thrane troops. And if Breland stood alone, how long would it be before other nations took advantage of its weakness? The Cyran refugees could see an opportunity to seize land for their people. The Darguul goblins were always a concern. Even Thrane might use the presence of the plague as an excuse to cross the border in force.
“Stormblade!” she called.
Harryn paused in mid retort and glanced at her. “Yes?”
“Say that I agree with you. What must be done?”
“Queen Sheshka says we are already past the midnight hour. If the threat is real, the ritual must be underway. The Moonlord will be in the tower of shadows.”
Thorn nodded. “And where is that, exactly?”
“I don’t know.”
Sheshka’s snakes hissed derisively.
“That could explain why you didn’t find it before,” Thorn said.
“The text I found was unclear,” Harryn said. “The tower is a relic of the first age of the world. It is difficult to translate the writing of fiends. It seemed to say that the tower was destroyed long ago, but its shadow remains—and the tower itself remains in the shadow.”
Thorn was about to make a clever remark about wasting time searching for destroyed towers when Steel whispered in her mind. Such a thing is possible, he said. The fiends of the first age possessed immense powers. It would operate on the same principles as your gloves—pulling a pocket of space out of the world. The question would be finding the portal.
“So you’re saying that the castle is in a shadow?”
“Exactly,” Harryn said.
Possibly, Steel qualified.
“So with six moons in the sky, we’re going to look for … a shadow.”
“According to the text, it’s the shadow of the tower,” Stormblade said. “The ghost of a shadow.”
“Well, that makes it—” the words died in her throat.
The ghost of a shadow. When she and Sheshka had traveled across the city, they’d passed through a patch of unnatural gloom. The shadow of a building—with no building to cast it. “I know where it is.”
Stormblade smiled—the first time she’d seen a gentle expression on his face. He struck his hip with an armored fist. “Destiny! Let us fight, then, Thorn of Breland. Together, let us fight for Galifar.”
You’ll have to tell him sometime, Steel said.
“Yes,” Thorn said. “For Galifar. Sheshka, this isn’t your battle. If you want to stay here, I understand.”
The medusa’s serpents were coiled proudly about her head. “I will join you, sister Thorn. I am not the child I was. And while I do not understand why the Daughters would welcome this darkness, I do not believe that it belongs in our lands. You may fight for Galifar … but I seek to defend Droaam and Cazhaak Draal.”
Thorn called the myrnaxe from the glove and raised it in the air. “Very well, my friends. Let us see what fate has in store for us.”
As they prepared for the struggle ahead, one thought lingered at the back of Thorn’s mind. If Sheshka were correct, Sora Teraza had stolen Stormblade’s identity so long ago. And Sora Teraza had told her where to find the petrified knight.
Were they following the path of destiny … or dancing to the tune of Teraza?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Ossuary
Droaam
Eyre 20, 998 YK
Chew these,” Harryn said, handing her a few leaves. Though he was eager for battle, Harryn was no fool. He sought to treat their