The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [10]
Something was wrong.
She pulled back from her trance and looked around. The old wine cellar was just as it had been a moment ago. The crystals were properly aligned on the table, and the silverwax candles were all alight.
“Dasei, what just happened?”
Dasei was Lei’s assistant. She was a homunculus—a magical construct given a semblance of life by Lei’s talents. While similar in principle to the warforged, the little wooden woman was not fully sentient. She could follow instructions, and her skills were invaluable when Daine’s crazy jobs took Lei from her work; enchanting was delicate work, and it was not something that could be left unattended. Despite her mystical talents, the homunculus lacked initiative or free will. She was a tool, not a person.
Dasei could not speak, but she could send her simple thoughts directly to Lei’s mind. Nothing changed. Paths prepared.
Lei frowned. She couldn’t explain the feeling. There was a feeling in the back of her mind, a thought she couldn’t quite catch hold of. Something had just happened, something bad, and if it wasn’t related to her work …
“Finish this binding. I’ll be back in a moment.” Lei had named the little creature after one of her more annoying cousins, and she always took a certain satisfaction in ordering the homunculus about.
Understood. Dasei climbed up onto the table and sat next to the wand, stabilizing the magical energies Lei had been working with.
Lei picked up her staff and made her way up the rickety stairs. The staff was formed of darkwood, jet black and stronger than oak. One end was carved in the image of a beautiful elf maiden, with long hair winding around the shaft. The staff was a gift from her deranged Uncle Jura and a mysterious sphinx. Considerable magical powers were bound within the wood, but Lei had been unable to determine the extent of its abilities or how to activate them. She was beginning to think that the staff itself was intelligent—that it was aware of its surroundings and acted only when it suited its own unknown goals. While she still had her doubts about the staff, it had served her well so far. Beyond its unknown powers, it was a strong and sturdy weapon, and it had saved her life on more than one occasion.
The stairway brought Lei out into the kitchen. She paused and listened intently. Though the initial chill had passed, the sense of unease was still with her—a lurking dread that she couldn’t explain. At first she heard nothing, but then she caught the faintest rustle, the barest sound of movement. She slowly moved toward the door, staff at the ready. When she was a child, her parents had arranged for her to be trained in the arts of stealth; her father had been determined to educate her in a broad range of skills, and while it had been a hard life, she silently thanked him for it now. Crouching low, she let one eye slide beyond the doorframe, peering into the large common room that lay beyond. A large humanoid figure was standing in the shadows by the fireplace, a flat object in one hand. As she watched, he reached up and made an adjustment, and the rustling came again.
It was Pierce, reading a book. He looked up as Lei entered the room. With a glance, he took in the staff in her hands and the tension in her walk.
“What is wrong?” he said, setting his book on the nearest table.
Lei studied the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. “I don’t know. Nerves, probably. Daine’s upstairs?” She felt like a fool, but the inexplicable feeling lingered at the back of her mind.
“I believe so. Do you require assistance?” He already