The Shield of Weeping Ghosts - James P. Davis [41]
The scent of smoke remained in the air for several breaths after Anilya had gone.
Thaena pondered the durthans words. Looking again at the hathran, broken and lifeless, all spark of the power she'd possessed gone, Thaena found anger much easier to accept. Of course they would track down the monsters that did this, lay down their bodies alongside the dead they had taken, but she wondered how long before the next attack, the next incursion on wychlaren territory.
She imagined her own body lying on a cold stone floor, being watched over by an ethran, and wondered what she would say to that young girl if she had power to say anything. Leaning closer to the hathran, she studied the stone Anilya had left with the body. Smooth and oval, colored with flashes of silver and streaks of green, it was beautiful and hauntingly familiar. Her eyes widened as she realized where she had seen such a stone-lying on a shelf beside her mother's bed. It had been a gift from a passing hathran.
Where she had been raised such stones, taken from the depths of the River Ashan, were considered precious. The bearer was said to be guarded by Rashemen and those to whom the stone was given were afforded peace among the land's wilds and waters. She glanced toward the durthan, moved by the unexpected gift from an enemy-a former ethran-and saw her in a very different light.
Reaching out to touch the stone's smooth surface and relive the faint memory of listening to her mother sing while cooking, she was startled to hear labored breathing next to her ear. She drew her hand back, flinching, and looked around. No one was there. The hathran lay as still and silent as before. A chill crawled up her spine as a whispering floated through the chamber.
The shadows near the ceiling seemed deeper and blacker as she scanned the chamber. The whispering quieted and the breathing faded away, but she could not shake the feeling of being watched. She stood and took one last lingering gaze upon her fallen sister, allowing the image to feed her resolve in solving this mystery.
The Creel were not known for stealth or subtlety, but something very sudden had to have occurred to overcome so many at once. Wards guarded those areas of the Shield in use by the Rashemi, guarded them against the broken spirits that might have committed such a massacre. If those wards had been compromised…
Thaena recalled the durthans mention of the mysterious Nar leader, a wielder of magic that had slipped through their attempts at scrying.
She looked to the walls and ceiling, seeking the source of whatever the Creel had unleashed inside the Shield. Closing her eyes, she sought the Weave around her, its presence ragged around the edges. It was very different here than in Rashemen-more cultivated, but also more chaotic, much like a Rashemi might compare the Shield to a forest. Shaking her head, she opened her eyes slowly, stone walls feeling narrower and confining, as if they would close in at any moment.
Footsteps echoed dully from the western doors. Duras, followed by Syrolf, entered the room, his face pale and troubled. Waves of relief flooded through her, and she strode toward him as quickly as modesty would allow. He smiled weakly, appearing out of breath as she neared and embraced him. Duras was her anchor, unchanging and steadfast. She clung to his familiarity and strength.
Though he was warm and assuring in his easy silence, she felt sudden flashes of fear for him as the faint sound of whispering returned and unseen eyes stared cold daggers into her. Her mask was no guardian against that invisible watcher, and she held on to Duras a little longer this time-a little longer than modesty would normally allow.
Chapter Nine
The darkness stretched forever, twisting and turning and destroying every hope that Bastun had of finding light. His staff felt heavy and cold, its magic subdued by the maze. The corridors grew and changed the farther he went, the walls scraping his shoulders at times and echoing his footsteps across what seemed great chasms at others. Though he felt very alone,