The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [63]
Please explain your decision, Lantern Thorn.
“You’ve worked with many Lanterns, Steel. But I’ve worked with people. I spent six days with Ghyrryn. I watched him fight. I saw him dealing with the hunters. I believe that he’s a man … gnoll … of his word.”
Reports suggest that the Znir Pact has long been a neutral force within Droaam, Steel acknowledged.
“We need allies. I was confident that Ghyrryn would stand by someone who saved his life, and I still am. He wasn’t willing to reveal all the secrets of Droaam, but I don’t think that he’ll tell any of the warlords about me.”
That’s all?
“I think it’s enough. I’ve learned where Sheshka’s quarters are. I know she has guards that frighten the gnolls. And I know that Harryn’s statue was recently moved at the request of one of the warlords … and that Sheshka is fascinated by the statue.”
You think Sheshka had the statue moved to her quarters?
“It seems like a logical assumption,” Thorn said. “Sheshka shows up for this gathering, gets her room set up, asks to borrow her favorite toy to add a little color to the place.” She glanced around her barren cell. “Olladra knows this place could use it.”
Yes. Another moment passed, then Steel spoke again. I apologize. I have known you for less than a month, and I was told … I was told that you might be unstable as a result of your last mission. I should not have questioned your judgment.
“You can question it all you want,” Thorn said, flipping the blade in the air and catching it in her left hand. “I never said I was stable. But I told you before: I don’t take orders from a dagger. If you want to be partners, that’s different.”
Perhaps you won’t die on me, she thought, trying to ignore the pain of that image.
Very well. Steel’s mental voice was calm and quiet. What do you intend to do now?
“I know you hate it when I do these rash, crazy things, but I was considering sleep.” She stretched out on the cot, feeling the hard stone beneath the blanket. “On the other hand, with a bed like this, considering it might be as close as I’ll get.” She remembered the axe. “What can you tell me about this?”
She passed Steel over the axe Ghyrryn had given her.
It is difficult to say with absolute certainty, but it appears to be an axe, Steel said. Albeit an unorthodox design.
Thorn rapped Steel’s hilt against the bed. “I know that. Tell me about the enchantments.”
It’s not enchanted.
“I don’t understand,” Thorn said. “I struck the wolf with you—a solid blow—and it kept coming. Ghyrryn stabbed it with the spearhead and it fell. And he insisted I take the weapon. There has to be something unusual.”
Nothing that I can perceive.
“Could you be mistaken? And I’ve already heard about the thirty-two Lanterns, so spare me.”
Of course I could be mistaken, Steel said. Magical auras can be concealed. If that’s the case, however, I can’t help you. I suggest you stab something and see what happens.
“What about the metal? The two blades are made from different alloys.”
That could be relevant, Steel said. There are creatures or spirits who can heal from wounds inflicted by mundane metals, yet can be hurt by unusual alloys. Droaam is the primary source of an ore known as byeshk, which is effective against certain monsters found in the underworld of Khyber. And there are the tales of the lycanthrope and its vulnerability to silver …
Steel’s voice trailed off. “What is it?” Thorn asked.
The wolf. Its body. Did anything happen when it died?
“Other than the bleeding? No. It fell on top of me, but it acted like you’d expect a dead wolf to act. Why?”
A pause—Steel was thinking. Thorn hated that the dagger had no expression, no face she could study for clues.
Most shapeshifting creatures revert to their natural forms when they’re killed, he said at last. It’s supposed to be true of werewolves.
“I thought all lycanthropes were exterminated by the Church of the Silver Flame. As I recall, that was the subject of our entertaining party chat.”
And given that our dead wolf was just a dead wolf——if strangely difficult