Darkvision

The crystalline dragonet glittered no more brightly than a star set high in the night sky. The gleam was more than sufficient for Kiril's eyes-she preferred starlight to daylight. But Xet's illumination was unsettling. It meant the geomancer was all alone. The light revealed a bare space shod in rusted iron. The floor and walls were dull and bare, and the high ceiling and narrow passage reminded Kiril of some long-deserted catacomb. Waterlines were visible on the powdery red walls at just about the tip of Kiril's reach. She bent down and touched the floor. It was bone dry. Whatever liquid had once passed this way hadn't flowed in eons. She hoped their presence wouldn't change that. The passage sloped upward to her left, but the grade was almost undetectable. "This way?" she asked, pointing up the gradual slope. "Not really a stairwell, but it slopes up." Xet pealed in the affirmative and flew ahead. Kiril unsheathed Sadrul, the gift of Al Qahera. The razor-sharp blade glittered in Xet's glow. Angul, still in his sheath, groused. Kiril paused and said, "I ask the gods of Sildeyuir to watch over my friend Thormud. See him through to safety."

See to it, if my past service and sacrifice meant anything at all, she silently added. A long journey in the dark was thus begun.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Chill air brushed Warian Datharathi. He cried out and fell on his face. His prosthesis went dead and its light failed. He gasped for breath. He felt as if he'd just finished a sprint where he pushed himself too hard. Yet his arm hadn't killed him… Coughing and shaking, he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Where was he?

Darkness was all he saw… and a broad ribbon of stone knifing through it. Stars settled into focus above him… and below?

Vertigo tumbled his stomach. He blinked. Unconsciously, his fingers tried to work themselves into the hard rock, abrading the fingertips of his natural hand. It was the stone of a great obelisk, similar to one of the menhirs that ringed the portal through which he'd plunged.

But this menhir was wider. And much, much longer, like a path. Or a bridge, over nothingness. The stone path traced an unwavering line as far as he could see-which was u

He spied a mote of radiance below. The mote… it was actually a dimly lit chunk of stone dozens of paces across-an island in a sea of night. Demolished walls of a templelike ruin gaped up at him from the isle. Light leaked from the temple walls, twinkling with witchlight.

The entire edifice receded as he watched it. Gazing around the vast space, he noted tiny flickers of light in every direction, all moving along seemingly random paths. "What is this place?" he asked aloud. He was having difficulty processing a vista so far outside his experience. Too tired to stand, he shambled on hands and knees to see what might lie behind him. He was at a nexus of three paths. The one he'd first gazed down apparently had no end. The second was long, miles long maybe, and seemed to plunge into a wavering, colored curtain. But the third path seized his attention. The third stone road ran for only a few hundred paces, then co

. Sevaera's whirlwind. Then you disappeared as you passed into the ring. I almost got sucked back into Sevaera's damned maw. But after you disappeared, she let up. I followed you." Warian nodded. "Sorry I left you behind. I've never been through one of these before. I don't really understand it. Speaking of which, I don't see a way to go back through from this side." "Who'd want to? She's waiting back there.

Hey," Zel looked closely at Warian. "How're you? You look beat."

Warian was bone tired, true. But not as exhausted as he'd feared after using his arm. Figuring out how to ration the prosthesis's energy had saved his life, he was sure. "I've been worse." Assisting each other, they both stood. "Why did she stop after I went through the ring?" wondered Warian. "She, or whatever was in her, doesn't care one whit about me. You seem to be the prize, Nephew." Warian rubbed his forehead. "My arm. It's immune to the control that Shaddon has over everyone else with Datharathi prosthetics." "Shaddon, and that thing that had Sevaera." Warian nodded. "Another thing I don't understand," said Zel, "is this place. Isn't this where the controlling entity comes from? We might have gone from the cauldron straight into the fire, but it really doesn't seem too bad here. Yet…" Zel's eyes widened as he took the time to gaze around the emptiness that stretched without limit in every direction. The air was sharp and cold, like the air just before dawn, but not damp. A faint odor tickled Warian's nose, like the smell after a thunderstorm. But mixed in was the smell of something rotten, closer. Something had died near them, and recently. Warian pointed out floating motes of earth and stone as they drifted all around. Most contained disintegrating constructions. "Amazing! Isn't this amazing? I've never seen anything like this. It's incredible!" Zel forgot about their predicament as the floating ruinscapes captured his imagination. "See that one?" Zel pointed. A perfect cube, each face a mirror, tumbled through the darkness, tracking a path from nowhere to oblivion. "I wonder what's inside? Treasure of some sort, eh?" Zel chuckled. "Now that's an odd one." Warian's uncle jabbed his finger into the void. Distant lights reflected on the shimmering, fluctuating surface of a misplaced lake.

Lapping, splashing waves on the surface were faintly audible as the globule sailed high overhead and away again. "Zel-" "Better not mess with that one!" crowed Zel, his finger finding yet another object. A slab of transparent glass about twenty paces long and half as wide tumbled below them. As it spun, Warian caught a sudden whiff of carrion, different from the rotten odor he'd smelled earlier. Caught in the slab's center, like a fly in amber, was a monstrous humanoid creature apparently formed of moist earth. Its legs were short and thick, and its arms tapered to bony claws. Teeth, rotting scraps of cloth, and bone shards protruded here and there from the muddy flesh.