The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [53]
She reached into the shadows and pulled an object from the darkness. It was a human head, skin pale from loss of blood, stump of the neck jagged and ugly as if torn from the body by sheer brute force. The eyes were glazed and sightless, but suddenly they rolled in their sockets and focused on the crowd. Thorn could swear the dead man was looking directly at her.
“I came seeking a treasure of the Crag,” he said, and his voice was hollow, filled with despair. “The Orb of Dol Azur, a powerful artifact which might serve as a weapon in days to come. Sora Maenya ground my bones to dust and bound my spirit so that I might have eternity to consider the error of my ways.”
A slight smile pulled at Sora Katra’s withered lips, and she tossed the head toward the table where the Karrns were seated. The Karrnathi ambassador was on his feet, paler even than the dead man, his mouth working silently. He instinctively reached forward to catch the head … and it vanished as it touched his hands.
“Your man is still alive, Lord Tharsul,” Sora Katra said. “He merely sleeps in his quarters, though his dreams are most unpleasant. I would apologize for making an example of you, if you had not brought a spy to my kingdom. Let this be a lesson to you all, for next time it will be no illusion. I welcome you as my friends. Now you have seen what fate awaits those who abuse my trust.”
The Karrnathi ambassador sat down, his face as rigid as that of his skeletal bodyguard. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The Orb of Dol Azur, Steel said. I wonder if he’s with Karrnathi intelligence or the Three Faces of War.
The room fell silent as Sora Katra spoke once more. “You know where you are. You know why you are here. You know what will happen in the days to come, and the laws you must obey. So now, I ask that you enjoy yourselves. Indulge in the delicacies of our land. In the hours to come, you will hear the drums of the Keroine minotaurs and the pipes of the Suthar satyrs. I had planned to give you a taste of harpy song, but in light of recent events, we have set that aside. We are grateful to you for coming, travelers, and tonight is our gift to you. Enjoy it while you can.”
She raised her arms again, and the sparks of light above her flowed down, surrounding her in a brilliant funnel. They grew brighter and faster, spinning in a radiant tornado. And then they burst, scattering across the chamber and filling the room with light.
Sora Katra had vanished.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Great Crag
Droaam
Eyre 18, 998 YK
Thorn’s bunk was a blanket set atop a slab of stone. And I was complaining about sleeping on the ground, she thought. I’m already looking forward to the trip back.
“I’ll bet I missed a beautiful sunset,” Thorn said. It was a code phrase; ‘sunset’ let other Lanterns know she was concerned about magical surveillance.
We are not being observed, Steel whispered.
“You’re certain?”
One of my primary functions is to sense the use of scrying or other active divinations, Steel told her, sounding slightly annoyed. I’ve served with thirty-two Dark Lanterns in my time with the Citadel, and I’ve never been mistaken.
“At least, you’ve never had a diviner drop by to tell you that you were mistaken.”
I’ve never had a mission compromised by magical surveillance when the Lantern has listened to my recommendations.
“So—no eyes or ears?”
That is correct.
Thorn had remained at the feast long enough to identify the remaining warlords, then feigned indigestion and asked a guard to escort her back to her quarters. She sat on her bunk, running her thumb