The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [3]
Daine’s head was pounding, and his left cheek burned; he could feel the slash running from cheekbone to chin. He opened his eyes and tried to make sense of his surroundings. The tunnel was made of worked stone, covered with mold and dirt. A shallow stream of foul water was flowing past his boots. A sewer? Pale light came from behind him, casting long shadows across the approaching insects.
Tens of thousands of insects.
It was a living carpet of vermin—an army of beetles and centipedes that stretched out beyond the pool of light. They moved forward in eerie unison, as if guided by a single thought.
A strong hand gripped Daine’s shoulder and slammed him up against the wall, and the tunnel was filled with flame. Daine closed his eyes as the terrible heat scorched his skin, but the fires did not consume him. When he opened his eyes, the tunnel was filled with steaming sewage and the charred husks of the insect horde.
Cold fury filled Daine’s heart. His dagger was already in his hand, and as he turned he brought it up to the throat of his unknown assailant. The face was a familiar one: Pierce was standing just behind him, studying him through crystal eyes.
“Dorn’s teeth, Pierce! What is this?”
“Daine!”
He turned toward the voice. A slender figure shone in the darkness, a woman wearing a coat of stars. As she stepped forward, he recognized Lei. She held her darkwood staff in one hand, and the golden rivets embedded in her green leather vest glowed with a cold light, the only source of illumination in the tunnel. She put her hand on his cheek, tears glittering in her green eyes.
“Do you know where we are?”
Her touch brought a flood of memories—the horrors of the Mourning, the long journey across Breland, Jode’s frail form lying on a mountain of corpses. He recoiled and fell to his knees, retching into the filthy water. Finally he reached up to touch his cheek: the pain was gone, and he ran his fingers over the long scar that had graced his face since the night of the Mourning.
“Daine. Do you know where we are?”
“Sharn. Under Sharn. The sewers beneath High Walls.” He rose to his feet. “Flame! It happened again?”
“Yes,” Lei said. “You told me to stay between you and Pierce and to hold the fire until you gave the order, but when we finally saw the creatures—you just froze.” She let her hand slip to his shoulder, and Daine covered it with his own. “What did you see?”
Daine ground his teeth together. This was the fifth blackout in the last ten days, and they were coming ever more frequently. “Keldan Ridge. Again.”
“Was there anything new?”
Daine nodded. “Planning an assault on the base Pierce and I discovered. Split forces, regrouping at Dorn Peak if it fell apart.”
“Which, apparently, it did.”
“Yeah.”
Almost three years had passed since they’d found themselves on the Dorn plateau just beyond the sinister mists of the Mournland. Until now, the events of that night had been a complete mystery; none of them could remember after the third wave of the warforged assault. Now those memories were finally coming back—but why, and at what cost? Daine’s head still throbbed, and he could barely hold his sword steady; his nerves were frayed to the breaking point, and his restless nights were filled with nightmares.
Daine had always believed that he could handle any problem on his own. As a child of House Deneith, he had been taught to fight his own battles, to stand against any foe. As a captain, he had to keep his own council—to make decisions that could determine the fates of hundreds, but how could he fight his own mind and memories? He squeezed Lei’s hand, finding unexpected comfort from her touch.
“Lei—”
“Danger!” Pierce’s voice rang throughout the tunnel.
Lei spun toward the sound, tearing her hand free and gripping her black staff. Daine raised his sword, cursing inside. Don’t expect one blow to end every fight.
Moments ago the floor had been covered with the charred remnants of a million insects. Now a new host had arisen from the old, a river of gleaming chitin and quivering antenna rising up from the ashes. The