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“I cannot,” Pierce replied. “The walls are in constant motion. Anyone following me could be caught in the flux.”

“You’re not going alone.”

Pierce considered this, then turned to Lei. “My lady,” he said, “It is possible that your talents will prove useful in opening the gate. If you are willing, I could carry you through the field.”

Lei looked at Pierce and glanced down at her bandaged hand. She’d wiped away her burns and scrapes with the healing wand, but the magic of the rod wasn’t powerful enough to restore her severed finger. For a moment she said nothing. Finally she nodded.

Daine opened his mouth, then bit back the complaint. “Fine,” he said. “Just … be careful. I just got you both back. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Pierce held out his bow. “I will need my hands. Will you hold this for me, captain?”

For a moment Daine hesitated, then he took the bow. Pierce gently picked up Lei, and Daine remembered the night they’d arrived in Sharn. “Good luck,” he said at last.

Pierce set out across the field.

North. Northeast. Northwest. Pierce ran across the blasted ground, jerking to the left and right.

“Can you see it?” Lei said, hanging onto his neck.

“It is not that simple, my lady.” Pierce had no trouble speaking while he ran; his legs seemed to know where to go. “I just … know when to turn and how far I can go.”

East. North. East.

“‘My lady,’” Lei mused. “You haven’t called me that in months.”

“I have not,” Pierce said. “For a time … I thought it was demeaning.”

North. Northwest. North.

“What changed?”

What had changed? “I am not your servant. Daine is no longer my commander, but you are still my lady, and he is my captain. I know the meaning of these words, and I do not care what others think.”

He saw Lei smile in his peripheral vision. “Thank you, brother,” she said quietly. He felt a sense of satisfaction—the calm serenity that he usually could only find in the heat of battle.

West. North. Northwest. Pierce ran in silence, and Lei leaned against his shoulder.

We are within the perimeter of the wards. Your companion will be safe moving under her own power.

“It is safe now,” Pierce said, slowly setting Lei down on the ground.

“Does it talk to you?” Lei said, looking at the dragonshard gem gleaming on Pierce’s chest.

Pierce could feel Shira looking through his eyes, studying Lei. The mark on the back of her neck resembles an archaic form of the Draconic language. Ghostly fingers were sifting through his memories, drawing out facts and collating them with knowledge held within the orb. Dragonmarks. Sigils that convey mystical power. Hereditary.

“It is … present,” Pierce said.

Shira continued to draw connections in the back of Pierce’s mind. Lei grew up in isolation, surrounded by warforged. Her mark manifested at an unprecedented early age, in response to an injury suffered by a warforged companion. Her mark has not grown in size, but she has proven to be an artificer of exceptional skill.

“What do you mean? Is it listening to us right now?” Lei grinned. “Is it talking about me?”

An artificer of exceptional skill can duplicate the magical abilities granted by the Mark of Making. Therefore, there is no way to verify that she truly possesses the mark.

“It is aware of you,” Pierce said.

At last, the gate of Karul’tash stood before them. The base of the spire was taller than the trees of the jungle and easily hundreds of feet in diameter. The stone walls were deep red, polished to a reflective finish and completely smooth; there were no signs of wear or age. The gate itself was a block of obsidian, three times Pierce’s height and nearly as wide.

“What now?” Lei asked.

Guided by newfound instinct, Pierce stepped up to the door and slammed his hand against it, striking as hard as he could.

“Dak ru’sen Karul’tash. Hasken ul tul’kas.” The voice was deep and resonant, and Pierce could feel the vibration in his skin. It seemed to emanate from the door itself. You have come to Karul’tash. Provide words of passage.

Countermeasures will be activated unless the words are given quickly