The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [88]
“I do not die after all,” the warforged hissed, “and you see no more. Drop weapons. I leave.”
The blades on the creature’s arms were digging into Lakashtai’s flesh, and blood dripped on the snow. Her mouth was twisted in pain, but she made no sound.
“Do it.” It was Lei. She stepped forward from behind Daine, her hands held out in front of her. “All of you. Throw away your weapons.”
Keldan Ridge. Daine nodded and tossed his blades aside.
“You’re hurting her,” Lei said, slowly walking toward the warforged. “Let me take her and ease her pain.”
Crystal eyes watched her, peering out from around Lakashtai’s waist. “No. We leave. Perhaps she survives, returns. Perhaps not.”
“You can’t take her with you.”
“You are mistaken.”
“No,” Lei said.
She reached out, and her fingers barely brushed the back of a mithral forearm. There was no burst of flame, no flash of light. The warforged simply fell apart. Connective cords snapped. Razor-sharp blades scattered across the snow like fallen leaves, leaving spatters of blood in their wake. In an instant, all that was left were chunks of wood and stone scattered around a bloody kalashtar. Lei didn’t even look at Lakashtai; she was watching the light fade from the crystal eyes of the warforged.
“I’m afraid I’m not,” she whispered.
Lakashtai stood stiffly, refusing to surrender to pain. The blades of the warforged had torn into her skin where it had grabbed her, and a few of these razors remained in the wounds. Lakashtai carefully drew each blade out, letting them fall to the snow. She closed her eyes, breathing calmly and deeply, and the blood stopped flowing from the gashes. A moment later the clotted blood flaked and fell away, leaving smooth, unblemished skin. The only hints that she’d ever been hurt were the slashes in her cloak and the tunic beneath. Despite her stoicism, she shivered slightly as the wind lashed her pale skin.
Daine found the sight slightly disturbing for reasons he couldn’t explain. He was used to supernatural healing; the touch of Jode’s dragonmark had saved his life on many occasions, and Lei had crafted a number of healing charms over the years, but Lakashtai—what limits did she have? What else could she do? He dug his swords out of the snow and strode over to her.
“Pierce is looking for tracks, Lei’s studying the warforged, and Gerrion is searching the boat,” he said. “Did you learn anything from our little friend?”
“We must leave quickly,” she said. “Lei did not kill it—him. This body is just a fragment of what we face. There are others, and they know we are here.”
Wonderful. Now warforged are after us? “Do you know what they want? Are they looking for me?”
“No. He did not know who you were, but there was recognition.” She glanced off into the snow, looking for the shape moving through the shadows. “Pierce. Only Pierce was of interest.”
He knew Pierce? Is that even possible? He remembered that moment of hesitation when he ordered the attack and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.
Gerrion jumped down from the deck of the ship. “Three dead on board. Stormreachers, all of them—guides and servants.” He smiled. “Less competition for me, at least.”
“Glad something good could come of it.” Daine said. “Lei! We need to get moving!”
She nodded and stood up, a scrap of metal in her hand. Before she turned around, Pierce appeared next to Daine, seeming to materialize out of the snow.
“It is difficult to follow any tracks in these conditions,” Pierce said. “The wind is quickly covering any traces of movement, but a group of people—five, possibly six—headed southwest sometime within the last few hours.” He gestured off into the blowing snow.
Daine found his hand was on his sword, and he forced it away. This is my friend. He’s saved my life a dozen times. As he looked at the metal mask that was his companion’s face, Daine felt traces of doubt. He’s not human. He’s not even flesh and blood.