The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [135]
“Xa’sasar,” Shen’kar sang. “There is blood between you and this outlander, and you may settle it in time. For this moment he is our ally and not to be harmed. What is it you have seen?”
The woman watched Daine. It was difficult to read the expression in her pale eyes, but her body language was deadly. “The firebinders move in force. There are outlanders with them: a man of metal and a woman in green, grievously wounded. They are to join with the first priest at the burning gate.”
“Lei!” Daine exclaimed.
Shen’kar ran a finger along the back of his scorpion, considering the news. “The first priest would not leave the walls of the city unless …” He turned to the other drow. “They believe they have found the two outlanders who can open the gate. We must go quickly. We are outnumbered but can still kill the outlanders.”
“No!” Daine said. He rushed at Holuar, but the other drow were between them in the blink of an eye, weapons out.
“This cannot be risked,” Shen’kar said.
“You forget.” Lakashtai’s silky voice seemed to wrap around them, even more beautiful when speaking the Elven tongue. “If they can open the gate, we can destroy it.”
“There are too many!” Xa’sasar cried, but Shen’kar was considering the matter.
“Are you afraid to try?” The dark elves stiffened, and Daine could see that Lakashtai’s words had struck home. “You are the champions of the night,” she continued, “and we have crossed the ocean to see this done. This is destiny. Embrace it, and together we will strike a devastating blow against your ancient enemy.”
Again the drow paused, whispering among themselves, but at last, Shen’kar clicked his tongue in agreement.
“Very well. Let us move swiftly.” He looked at Daine. “We have faced one another in battle. Now we shall stand together. It is fitting that this be returned.” Reaching down, he unbuckled a belt and handed it to Daine. A sheathed longsword hung from the belt, its pommel emblazoned with the Watchful Eye of Deneith.
“I suppose it is,” Daine said, taking the sword and belt. “Lead the way.”
Daine had barely buckled the belt when the hunt began, with Xa’sasar taking point. The elves were swift and graceful, and it was all Daine could do to keep up.
Just tell me we get to kill them when all this is done, he thought to Lakashtai.
Hush, she thought, but even across the distance he could feel her smile.
Firesled. A modification of the design pioneered by the elemental savants of the Sul’at League. The bound elemental provides motive power for the vehicle, and its essence can be channeled through the central staff as an offensive weapon, either in a focused blast or explosive burst. The sled is fire-resistant and spiritually reinforced to resist abjuration effects that could interfere with the binding enchantments. The top speed …
It wasn’t a conversation. Pierce didn’t hear a voice telling him these things. He just knew the information, as if he had studied the subject long ago and forgotten it. At the same time, he felt a strange sensation in his mind—a slight sense of confusion, as if there was something he was trying to remember but simply couldn’t recall. He tried to dismiss it, to focus on the battle, but he couldn’t; it was as if another creature were trying to think with his mind.
THOOM!
Pierce threw himself to the side as the firesled approached, and he rolled with the explosion, avoiding any significant injuries. Rising to his feet, he loosed an arrow at the pilot of the craft, but between the vessel’s speed and the cover it provided to its controller, the elf was a difficult target. The flying sled passed overhead and out of sight. Pierce could hear soldiers approaching through the jungle, and a flock of brightly colored birds took to the sky, complaining in a myriad of sharp notes. An instant later the elves flowed out from the trees—a dozen warriors wearing bronze armor, wielding swords and short