The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [53]
Move swiftly. I cannot hold him long.
Lakashtai’s thought pulled Lei from her reverie. I know, I know! Give me a moment. Daine put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly, and she gave him a brief smile. “I’m all right,” she whispered, feeling an irrational desire to keep her words from the kalashtar upstairs.
She drew a deep breath and turned her attention back to the glowing glyph. She closed her eyes and extended her perceptions, calling on the same techniques she used to craft her own magic. She touched the seal with her mind and slowly traced its path with her thoughts, running along each strand of energy until she reached the end. Every gleaming thread was bound together to form a greater whole, and she contemplated the beauty of the magical web. Finally, she directed a burst of energy at the heart of the seal—a blade that would either cut the thread or cause it to explode.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The glyph had faded away. To the others, the experience had only taken seconds, but she was exhausted; it seemed as if days had passed since she first looked at the glyph.
Broken, she thought to the others and continued down the hallway.
If Gerrion’s directions are correct, this is the chamber we’re looking for, Lei thought. I can’t sense any traps, but it is mystically sealed—the work of House Kundarak, if I know my auras. I imagine Sarkhesh has a token to deactivate the seal.
“Remind me why we didn’t just kill him and take the key?” Daine muttered.
My, thief to assassin in less than an hour. You really are making quick progress, Lei thought. Now let me work on this door—I’m going to need to prepare an unbinding charm, and it’s a difficult task. She pulled a small brass wand from her belt pouch and began whispering to it, weaving the energies she would need to break the arcane lock.
Three acolytes have arrived. It was Lakashtai. I have managed to draw them into my illusion, but there is a limit to the number of minds I can affect—should anyone else arrive, there will be trouble.
Lei’s working on it, Daine shot back. A moment later Lei completed her task and touched the wand to the door, producing a brief flicker of light. The door slowly creaked inwards.
Daine pulled Lei away from the door. Pierce, point.
Pierce had his long flail in one hand, the chain wrapped around the haft. He pressed the flail against the door, slowly pushing it open. Then he darted inside, swift and silent.
Safe, came his thought.
Daine was the next to enter, blades drawn in spite of Pierce’s assurances. He glanced around, and his heart sunk.
The room was full of dragons.
There were wooden dragons, wyrms carved from gold and ivory, statues in a host of shapes and sizes. The doorway was flanked by two copper statues, and each of these rearing dragons was taller than Pierce. Dozens of chests and caskets were scattered around the chamber, seemingly without rhyme or reason. A mail shirt hung from the wall, white scales bound to leather. If there was a blue dragon scale in the room, it was hidden from view.
Lakashtai? Daine thought. You may have to maintain the ritual for longer than we’d planned.
For a moment they were stunned by the spectacle. Daine had seen greater wealth in his life; he still remembered Alina Lorridan Lyrris’ garden of jewels in Metrol, but with Alina, one never knew what was real and what was illusion. Here treasures were scattered about with no concern for art or appearance. A gilded statuette with ruby eyes the size of Daine’s thumb was propped against a rolled tapestry.
“Blue scales,” Daine said, pulling his thoughts together. “Pierce, watch the door. Lei, I need to know if these chests are safe—it must be in one of them.”
“We could fit a lot of this in my pack,” Lei said, studying one