Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death:

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Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death: Page 1

by Matt Forbeck




  Queen of Death

  the Lost Mark book 3

  Matt Forbeck

  Chapter

  1

  I said we re going to Argonnessen to take on the dragons, and I meant it,” said Kandler.

  He scowled down at Monja, the halfling shaman who’d joined them when they’d passed through the Wandering Inn. Bringing her along at the time had seemed like a good idea—they’d needed a healer like her, and Burch had vouched for her—but now Kandler wondered if bringing on another passenger had been worth it.

  Monja arched an eyebrow at Kandler. She stood on the lower part of the airship’s wheel so she could see over the bridge’s console as she steered the ship. A natural flyer who’d spent many hours in the air atop the scaly glide-wings the halflings of the Talenta Plains sometimes used as mounts, she’d made quick work of mastering the ship. For that, at least, she’d proved her worth—that and the way she’d brought Kandler and Sallah back from the brink of death just the night before.

  "She just asked how wise that was, boss,” Burch said. The shifter sat perched on his bare feet atop the back rail of the bridge. The cold winds whistling down off the Ironroot

  Mountains to the east ruffled the long, black mane of hair that swept back from his deep-tanned, feral face. "Fair enough?”

  Kandler wanted to snarl at his old friend, but he knew he needed as many people on his side as he could. Angering someone who’d always had his back wouldn't help that.

  "Look,” he said, glancing at each of the others. "It may not be a great plan, but it’s the only one we have.”

  Xalt nodded. Kandler hadn’t known the warforged long, but he had proven himself trustworthy over and over. If Xalt saw the logic in Kandler’s reasoning, then the justicar could feel confident in his own judgment. As a creature born in the forges of war—or those of House Cannith—his impassive face seemed impossible to read.

  Duro, the dwarf who’d led Kandler and the others deep into the heart of the mountains to find the lair of the dragon Nithkorrh, grunted and ran a hand through his long, brown beard. "My people lived under a dragon’s shadow for centuries. That was just one. Taking on a whole continent filled with the winged beasts . .

  Sallah nodded in agreement, the sun glinting off her red curls and her battered armor. When Kandler had first met her only a few weeks back, the steel had glimmered like a mirror. Both it and she had been through much since then.

  "We should head straight for Thrane,” she said, no hint of doubt in her voice. "The Church will take us in and provide us sanctuary.”

  Awry grin twisted Te’oma’s flat lips like a fold in a seam of fabric. "Can you protect the girl there as well as you did in Mardakine?”

  "We were but five knights then,” Sallah said, her emerald eyes flashing. The fact that she now stood alone, the other knights—including her father—dead, added to the frustration in her tone. "In Flamekeep, we would have an army to protect her.”

  "It wouldn’t be enough," said Espre.

  The young elf had said little since dawn had broken over the mountains off the port bow. All eyes turned to her now.

  Although she looked younger than any of the others, Espre was at least twice as old as Randier. Elves took far more time to reach maturity than any of the other races, and with luck she would live many times longer than Kandler had any hope for himself.

  Despite this, Kandler couldn’t help but think of her as a little girl—his little girl, in fact. She looked just like she had the day he’d married her mother Esprina years before, and he could still see his dead wife every time he looked at her face. She was all he had left of his wife, and he planned to fight for her to his last breath.

  "Kaijdler is right,” Espre said. "Too many people want me dead. I can’t hide forever.”

  Sallah put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. Her gauntlet looked massive next to Espre’s face. "You wouldn’t have to hide in Flamekeep,” she said. "The Silver Flame will protect you.”

  "Might as well paint a target on her forehead,” Burch said as he took his crossbow from across his back and checked its action. "Soon as the world knows where she is, it’s over.”

  "We have to take the fight to her attackers,” said Kandler.

  "Didn’t say that either.” Burch pulled the trigger, and the string on his empty weapon twanged.

  Duro snorted. "You think you can hide her away, like a treasure under a mountain? My people have tried that time and again, friend. It never works.”

  "I made a life of it.” The shifter leaned back against the rail behind him.

  "Vol managed to locate her once before,” Te’oma said. "She will do so again.”

  "Sure,” Burch said. Satisfied, he slung his weapon across his back again and slipped off his perch. "If you stay put. A moving target, that’s a lot harder to hit.”

  "It’s not just that horrible lich after her,” Sallah said, sweeping her hair back from her face. "It’s everyone. If I do not return soon, Jaela Daran will send other knights after me. Every nation of power has an interest in the dragonmark that Espre bears. Karrnath knows about her now, too. Do you think the Captain of Bones has not already sent word of the reappearance of the Mark of Death back to King Kaius?” Kandler rubbed his eyes. Too many things threatened Espre at once. He couldn’t possibly take on them all—at least not at once.

  "One thing at a time,” he said. "We can’t sit around and wait for someone to come and kidnap Espre again—or kill her instead. We have to take the fight to them.”

  "Towhom?” Sallah asked. "The dragons of Argonnessen? Or the Blood of Vol? Or the Emerald Claw? Or the elves of Aerenal? They all want her dead.”

  Kandler bit back a snarl. The start of a romance had blossomed between Sallah and him. After Esprina died, he’d given up on that kind of love ever finding him again. Still, he refused to let his feelings for the lady knight influence his thinking about keeping his step-daughter safe.

  He’d hoped that Sallah would side with him, but he should have known better. Sallah had lost so much already on her quest to bring Espre safely to Thrane. She wouldn’t give up hope of accomplishing her own goal. She couldn’t.

  "We start at the top,” Kandler said. "We take down the dragons after her, and we send a signal to the others.”

  Monja giggled. To Burch, she said, "Is he always so silly? 'Take down the dragons.’ Ha!”

  "I'm not joking,” Kandler said.

  Monja lost her smile. "Then you are a bigger fool than you seem,” she said. "You cannot expect to destroy all those dragons. We only barely managed to kill one yesterday—one.”

  "Challenging them all is folly,” Duro said, "but we don’t have to. Having guarded a dragon’s lair for many years, I know a thing or two about those creatures. Fact is if you ask three dragons a question, you get nine different answers. They can’t agree on a damned thing.”

  "Not even destroying the Mark of Death?” Xalt said. "The dragons put a halt to a war against the elves to eradicate that dragonmark once. It seems able to inspire an amazing level of diplomacy among mortal foes.”

  "That’s why we’re going to Aerenal first,” said Kandler, "to ask for the elves’ help.”

  "The pointy-eared bastards will kill us all,” said Duro. He shifted his weight and scratched his neck. "Well, me for sure. They don’t much care for dwarves, I hear.”

  "Didn’t you want to go to the Wandering Inn first?” Monja asked Kandler. "My people won’t be much help against the dragons, I’m sure, but they can get us well fed before we head off.”

  "It could take us days to find the place,” said Kandler, "and it’s not in the right direction. Burch tells me there’s an outpost in the Goradra Gap we can hit for supp
lies.”

  Sallah frowned. "I say we put this to a vote. That should appeal to your Brelish sense of fair play.”

  Kandler shook his head. "Breland’s no democracy, and this ship isn’t either.”

  "You don’t own this ship,” Te’oma said. "You stole her from that crazed elf.”

  "You didn’t even do that,” Sallah said. "Burch did. She’s his ship.”

  Kandler rolled his eyes. "Burch?” he said, still staring at Sallah.

  "I’ll back your play, boss, right or wrong.” The shifter reached out and put an arm around Espre. She clung to his side.

  "Espre’s my responsibility, and I’m taking her to Argonnessen by way of Aerenal.” Kandler looked at each of the others. "If any of you want off the ship, we’ll drop you off somewhere on the way.”

  Chapter

  2

  Y ou sure know how to win em over, boss, Burch said as he padded up behind Kandler, who stood at the ship’s prow, staring out at the ice-capped mountains beyond.

  "I’m a soldier, not a diplomat.”

  Burch showed his teeth. "That’s clear.”

  The two stood silent for a moment.

  "How long until they mutiny?” Kandler asked.

  Burch grunted. "Not sure. Figure we got at least three on our side—you, me, and Espre. Sallah thinks you’re nuts, and Te’oma—well, she’s hard to figure, but she probably does too. Monja, she’ll follow my lead, at least until we hit the sea. Same for Xalt, though he’ll stick around until the ship falls apart.”

  The shifter leaned out over the railing to inspect the rune-carved restraining arcs that held in place the ring of elemental fire that kept the Phoenix aloft. "Which might not be all that long the way she’s looking.”

  "That’s five for us and two against. I should have taken a vote.”

  Burch shook his head. "Wouldn’t have changed anything.

  Thought she liked you better than that though.”

  Kandler ignored Burch’s leer. "How long until we reach the Gap?”

  The shifter stared out at the mountains and said, "Another day. Maybe a bit more.”

  Kandler looked back and saw Duro coming up behind them.

  "Don’t tell me you’re still planning to head to Goradra,” the dwarf said. "I know we’ve not known each other all that long, but please don’t tell me that.”

  "What’s wrong with the Gap?” Kandler said.

  Duro eyed Burch before responding. "Haven’t you told him anything about it?”

  "It’s a big hole in the ground,” Kandler said. "We re in an airship.”

  "It’s not just a big hole,” Duro said. "It’s the deepest hole in the world. It tumbles down so far that sunlight can’t ever reach the bottom, even at high noon. They say it doesn’t stop until it hits Khyber itself.”

  "Who says that?” asked Burch.

  "Everyone.”

  "Everyone?” Burch smiled. "I don’t say that.”

  "You knowwhat I mean.” The dwarf scowled. Kandler saw that he’d hoped Burch would help him talk some sense into the justicar, but the shifter had turned against him instead.

  "Have you been there?” Burch said. "I have. Looked right down into that pit.”

  "You say it doesn’t reach Khyber?” Duro said, daring the shifter to gainsay him.

  "I didn’t say that either.”

  "Stop playing—”

  "It doesn’t matter. If it does reach Khyber, it’s so far down that the demons there would take years to climb up it, and you’d see them coming a mile away.”

  "What about falling into it?” Duro said with a shiver. "You could tumble through that bottomless shaft for hours.”

  "Thought you said it bottomed out in Khyber?” Burch smiled. "Either way, it doesn’t matter if it’s a hundred feet down or a hundred thousand. You fall that far, you’re dead when you land. A longer fall just gives you more time to think about it.”

  Duro’s eyelids twitched. "Can’t we just resupply someplace else? Why bother with Gaptown?”

  "It’s right out there in the open,” Kandler said. "It’s easy to reach by airship. Anything else in this area means a dwarf settlement, and that means crawling deep under the mountains.”

  "My people will welcome us at any of our homes along the entire range. You would be my honored guests. As the slayers of Nithkorrh, we would be welcomed as heroes and treated like kings.”

  Kandler shook his head. "It’s tempting, but if we stop moving, we become a target. We can’t afford to waste that much time.”

  Duro looked hurt. "Time spent in a dwarf city is never a waste—it’s an investment. If you could see the halls of Krona Peak, you would find yourself drawn to spending hour upon hour contemplating their stark beauty. The works of mankind have nothing to compare.”

  "Time to meditate upon the wonders of dwarf society is exactly what we don’t have.”

  "Krona Peak lies right along our path. If we proceed along the Ironroot Mountains here, we will practically pass over it.”

  Kandler gazed down at the dwarf for a moment. "If you want us to drop you off there—”

  Duro cut him off with a sharp snap of his head. "Not at all. I would only suggest—”

  "Why not?” said Burch. "Come with us, and the best you can hope for’s to choose which kind of dragon tears off your head.”

  Duro snorted. "I am not some child to be frightened by such talk. If you thought so little of our chances, would you bring the elfling along with you?”

  Kandler glared at the dwarf. "There’s no safer place for her than with me.”

  "Even when you fly into the dragons’ collective maw? We could leave her with my people. They would care for her as their own. Then we could assault the dragons, free from the fear that she might be killed in the effort.”

  "You’d still come with us then?” Kandler asked, trying not to sound so surprised.

  Duro smiled wide beneath his bushy beard. "I am no coward. I spent years guarding the den of that damned dragon beneath my clan’s mountain. Now that job is over, and I find that I have an itch to see the world beyond. I can think of no better calling than to save a youngling by battling even more dragons in open combat.”

  "You’re sunstruck,” said Burch. "I’ve seen it in dwarves before. All that time stuck in those dark caves, you get a taste of fresh air and you go mad.”

  Duro’sgrin never slackened. "Thinkwhat you will. Some of my clan might agree with you. I might once have too, but if my insanity can serve a greater purpose, then so be it.”

  "We’ll try Goradra first,” said Kandler. "If that doesn’t pan out for supplies, we’ll make a quick stop at Krona Peak.” He glanced between the dwarf and the shifter. They both nodded at him, content for now.

  "You don’t have to listen to him, you know,” Sallah said to Espre.

  The girl stared up at the lady knight. Up in the thin, cold air, the warmth of the clear, bright sun only managed to take the edge off the chill, but Sallah never seemed to notice it. Did the knight’s Silver Flame burn so warmly in her as to ward off all such discomforts?

  As Espre shuddered in the open breeze swirling around and through her, Xalt came up from behind her and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. "I found this in the hold,” he said. "Some of the workers at Fort Bones must have been sleeping there between shifts.”

  The elf smiled her thanks at the warforged and reached out to caress his metallic cheek.

  "You are older than he,” Sallah said. "You are ready to come of age yourself and make your own decisions.”

  Espre nodded. She heard the wisdom in Sallah’s words, but the knight’s clear desire to bring the elf back to Flamekeep made her wary.

  "Do you love him?” Espre asked.

  Sallkh froze. She wore her defiance on her taut lips and her jutted chin. When she spoke again, though, her face relaxed, and she looked more human in a way that Espre knew that Xalt could never have managed.

  "I believe I do,” said Sallah. "My head swirls about as if caught in a
whirlwind when I am with him.”

  "That’s just the altitude,” Te’oma said as she slipped up behind the others.

  Sallah scowled at the changeling. "You are fortunate that we didn’t dump you overboard the moment the dragon died. After all you’ve done—”

  "That’s gratitude for you,” Te’oma said, arching a pale eyebrow. She ran a finger along Xalt’s back, right where she had plunged a dagger into him back in the warforged city of Construct. "You’d think saving everyone’s lives would change a few minds.”

  "Burch brought down that dragon,” Sallah said. "You only saved his life because he clung so tightly to you that you had no choice.”

  Te’oma’s face blurred for a moment, and Sallah found herself staring into her father’s eyes. "Does the Silver Flame not teach us to forgive?”

  Espre stepped between the two as Sallah’s sword leaped from its scabbard and burst into flames. She knew that the knight would not harm her, but she didn’t know how long she could manage to keep the pair apart.

  Sallah held her blazing blade before her. "You desecrate my father’s memory,” she spat at the changeling, "and you tempt death by mocking me with it.”

  "Perhaps,” Te’oma said, taking Sallah’s own form instead, "you’d prefer to look your hypocrisy in the face.” Espre flung her arms up to protect herself from the enraged knight. As she did, she felt the changeling’s presence behind her disappear. Then something heavy thudded against the ground.

  Espre spun about and spied Te’oma lying face down on the deck, Xalt’s heavy form atop her. The warforged had the changeling’s arm twisted behind her back, and her face—her own face now—contorted in pain.

  "You shall cease to take our forms,” Xalt said, "or those of people we love. If you do so again, I will be forced to mark you so that we can always tell you apart from those others.” "How will you manage that?” Te'oma said, sneering through the pain as the warforged gave her arm a terrible wrench.

  "I do not think your powers allow you to replace a missing limb.”

  "That’s enough,” Espre said. She felt the dragonmark on her back start to itch. "You made your point.”

  Xalt looked into the elf’s eyes and let the changeling go.

 

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