James rode a dakkan with burnt-orange scales, Wein rode a green-scaled dakkan, and Garet sat astride an enormous dakkan with blinding yellow scales. Only Perklet continued riding a horse, since his own dakkan had apparently been lost during their previous demon hunt. The other true horses stayed with Danner and Maran in the middle of the group. Looking at the paladins astride their horses-turned-dakkans, Danner wondered whether the dakkans chose their alternate shape or if their riders had something to say about it.
Danner’s horse shied violently away as Wein rode his dakkan close by, and Danner had to concentrate on controlling his mount. They passed through the gates with no trouble, though the guards’ eyes followed Birch as he passed. Their faces were filled half with wonder, half with fear. Danner rode close enough to get a quick glimpse of his uncle’s face, then decided to leave him alone.
Instead, Danner focused on the city. Maran quietly pointed out several interesting sights along the way. Danner hadn’t even known the elf had ever been to this city, so he listened with interest.
Vendors lined the streets, hawking their gaudy wares here as in every city in every nation since the dawn of civilization. It was the same everywhere, and Danner took some small comfort in this; it made the alien newness of the larger city less intimidating.
Few of the buildings around Danner were more than two or three stories tall, and everything seemed made of the same brown brick. The roofs were all made of fired tiles, and windows were more often than not wide with open shutters. The streets were perfectly straight with square corners at every evenly spaced block. Danner wondered at this a moment, then stopped in his tracks at the sound of his name.
“Danner! Danno!”
Not daring to believe his ears, Danner turned toward the familiar voice and nearly choked in surprise. The crowd parted for a motor vehicle unlike any other Danner had seen, but the strange design only diverted his attention for a second before his eyes became riveted on the gnome driving the buggy.
“Faldergash!” Danner cried joyously, all but falling from his horse in his rush to reach the gnome. Birch saw his nephew and called their party to a halt, a confused smile on his face as he recognized the gnome’s name.
“Fal, you’re alive!” Danner said, clasping the gnome to him. His embrace was made somewhat difficult by the safety harness Faldergash had strapped around him, but Danner was too overcome to bother with anything so trifling. Tears brimmed in the young thief’s eyes, and for a moment he was beyond words.
“There, there now, Danno,” the gnome said, awkwardly patting Danner on the back. “I’m going to assume from this then that you didn’t get my note.” Danner leaned back and looked questioningly at Faldergash, but the gnome shook his head. “No, I suppose not. I sent a message to your father that I’d been spotted by the Coalition and I was coming here to Nocka to visit with a friend until things blew over. I knew you’d be able to talk yourself out of any trouble, and I didn’t have time to get word to you personally and dared not leave any message in the house. I guess he never got the note.” Faldergash scowled. “Should’ve known better than to trust a damn dwarven courier service.”
Danner finally released the gnome and took a step back so they could appraise each other. Danner absently noted that Faldergash still had all of his limbs, all nine fingers, and that his facial hair and skin were remarkably free of burn marks.
“I’m sorry if I worried you, boy,” Faldergash said, blushing slightly. On the edge of Danner’s consciousness, something seemed different about his friend, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. His relief at simply seeing the gnome alive blocked out everything else.
“Fal, I…” Danner said, breaking off. “I… I’m sorry I put you in danger,” he said finally. He rushed on before the gnome could speak. “I knew I was just asking for it when I went to work for the Coalition, but I thought I could handle it. I was so smart,” he said bitterly, “and I nearly got you killed. I thought I had gotten you killed. I’m sorry,” he said again.
“There now, no harm, no harm,” Faldergash said. He shrugged. “I’m alive, none the worse for wear, and the break has done wonders for my creativity. I’ve almost finished the superfire cooker,” he said excitedly. The familiar gleam of gnomish genius – more commonly called madness – was in his eyes as the gnome beamed happily. Danner couldn’t help but laugh, and suddenly everything was better again.
“Where are you headed now, Danno?” Faldergash asked. He looked pointedly at the paladins waiting patiently nearby.
“We’re going to the paladins’ chapterhouse I think,” Danner replied. “Come with us. We’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Not now, I think, Danno,” Faldergash said with a headshake. “Tell you what, here’s where I’m staying for now. Come and see me sometime.” He quickly scribbled a note on a scrap of parchment, then revved the engine on his buggy. He winked up at Danner. “We’re blocking traffic, boy. Get a move on.”
With a fond shake of his head, Danner embraced the gnome once more then remounted his horse. He thanked Birch and the others for waiting, then followed them through the city.
- 3 -
“Paladin Birch de’Valderat and the jintaal headed by Paladin James Tarmin,” a young herald proclaimed, motioning for them to enter the room. “Accompanied by Danner de’Valderat, nephew to Birch, and by El’Maran…” the herald stumbled, realizing he had no surname or title for Maran. The elf walked into the room without comment, so Danner paused by the herald.
“The thief,” Danner whispered helpfully when the pale-faced herald stopped.
“…the thief,” the herald finished loudly. Suddenly his eyes widened and his cheeks sucked in as he realized what he’d just announced. He glared furiously at Danner as he closed the door behind them, sealing himself out.
Maran looked at Danner reprovingly, but only just managed to hide a smile.
Danner’s look of feigned innocence died on his lips as he surveyed the room. Gazing at him from a raised platform were eighteen stern-faced men, all dressed in gleaming, ceremonial armor with their swords resting before them on a long table. The back of Danner’s neck itched, and he had the sudden desire to leap out a window and run as though the entire deron’dala guard was on his heels.
“Lord Donnor is indisposed at the moment, but we have convened this emergency council in his absence,” one of the paladins said.
Birch had told them that Lord Rathamik Donnor was the head of the Prismatic Council.
“Paladin James Tarmin, report.”
“Sir, we flushed out the demons and destroyed them,” James reported, his easy tone replaced by a crisp, business-like snap appropriate for delivering reports. “We sustained minor injuries, and only one casualty. Paladin Perkal lost his dakkan in the fight, through no fault of his own or his mount’s. All of the jintaal performed as warriors of God.”
The men on the platform nodded approvingly, and Danner finally noticed there were three paladins from each Facet. The paladins from the Green Facet sat together, as did each of the others. Danner finally pinpointed the man who had spoken before. He wore a blue cloak and sat between the two others of his Facet.
“Thank you, brother,” the Blue said. “I wish I could give you time to rest, but given the company you keep, it seems likely your jintaal will set forth again almost immediately.”
There were some quiet murmurings at this, and several of the council members looked disgruntled by the announcement. James nodded silently, his face politely curious. Finally, one of the paladins seated at the table spoke up loud enough to be heard by everyone.
“I thought we were holding off on this decision,” the muscular Orange paladin said.
“Lord Donnor informed me a short while ago that this was his decision,” the Blue replied coolly. “As the rest of the council is split in its decision, his vote has decided the issue.”
“But we still don’t know how or why he esca…”
“Enough!” the Blue barked, silencing the
last of the disagreements.
“Paladin Birch de’Valderat,” one of the Yellow paladins said, “the Prismatic Council has come to a decision regarding your status. Approach.”
Birch stepped forward, his blazing eyes locked on nothing. His face seemed cast in stone, but Danner thought he detected a barely concealed impatience smoldering beneath his uncle’s impassive façade. Birch reached the table and stopped. The Yellow paladin held up a tightly rolled bundle and handed it wordlessly to Birch.
He took the bundle and allowed it to unfurl, revealing an off-white cloak identical in every way but color to those worn by the other paladins in the room.
“This council can reach no definitive answer through its own wisdom regarding your status, and so the question has been left to the same blessed powers that determine each paladin’s place in our order,” the Yellow said seriously. “When you don your cloak, we shall know your reflection.”
Birch opened his mouth as though to speak, then clenched his jaw shut with an audible snap. The Yellow paladin paled slightly as Birch’s eyes blazed fiercely, but he maintained his composure under the fiery gaze. Wordlessly, Birch dipped his shoulder and flung the cloak over his back with a practiced toss.
The room hung breathless for a long moment. Danner wasn’t sure what he would see, but whatever he expected was nothing like what happened.
After a timeless moment of waiting, Birch’s cloak slowly darkened until it was a leaden gray, nearly the color of Selti’s scales. Several in the room gasped at the unprecedented sight, and startled murmurs whispered about the hall.
- 4 -
“Silence!” a burly Red thundered, pounding his fist on the table. The astonished voices slowly quieted. “This is unheard of, yes, but it changes nothing. In fact, it lays to rest one of the questions facing us.” Someone snorted at this, but the paladin ignored the sound. Several of the paladins still looked displeased at the proceedings, but they remained silent.
A Yellow paladin took up where the Red left off, “Paladin de’Valderat, a situation has arisen that this council feels is especially suited to your unique experience. What I am about to reveal is known only to this council and a privileged few, and all within this hall are sworn to secrecy on an oath of faith.”
The paladins with James nodded their acceptance of the oath. Danner wondered if that somehow included Maran and himself, the only non-paladins present.
“A little more than a week ago, a powerful presence crossed the Merging and entered our world. Through exhaustive effort, we discovered the identity of this presence.” The paladin paused slightly as though to prepare himself for what he was about to say. Into that silence, Birch spoke.
“The Three have crossed the Merging.”
The entire council turned to face Birch as the gray-cloaked paladin finished the Yellow’s stunning proclamation for him. The shock they had expected to see on Birch’s face was instead showing on the faces of the Council.
“How under Sin and San could you know that?” a Red paladin asked, surprise making his voice harsh.
“Yes, please, how?” an Orange said eagerly, no doubt interested for purely academic reasons.
“One of them hunted me down on the road south of Demar, and I recognized the sense of him,” Birch said evenly. “I ran into The Three during my Calling, though we did not fight then. My dakkan drove the one off, wounding him seriously but not killing him.”
“Did you finish the demon off?” another Red asked.
“No, Joran, I didn’t,” Birch said, his voice suddenly weary.
“Why not?”
“He stayed airborne in the shape of a red dakkan, but at the end of the battle he changed into some other shape and disappeared,” Birch said. “There was no way to track and find him. The Three are accomplished shape-shifters.”
The council muttered at this, but had to accept what Birch said. A Blue spoke up, once more silencing the men around him.
“Again, this seems to work for the better, for you already know what to expect, and we don’t have to explain the matter,” the Blue paladin said. He inclined his head toward the Yellow who had spoken earlier.
The Yellow nodded. “It is the will of this council that you join the jintaal under Paladin Tarmin and undertake the task of hunting down and destroying The Three. Will you accept?” He held up a sword that had lain unnoticed on the table where Birch’s cloak had been.
For an instant, Danner was unsure how his uncle would answer. He seemed to wrestle with something inside of himself, and Danner saw within that struggle a dark-haired woman waiting by a fireplace. Then the fire in Birch’s eyes blazed, and Danner knew the decision had been made.
Birch grasped the hilt of his sword, forged anew from the shattered metal of his old weapon.
“I accept,” he said, his voice hard. “I will hunt The Three.”
Interlude
With powerful friends come powerful enemies. The reverse is not often true.
- Dwarven Proverb
- 1 -
In the dust of the road, a small form stirred. The creature was no larger than a flea, beneath the notice of anyone passing by. For the better part of a month, the creature sat in a helpless state while its body repaired itself. It drew strength from the world, siphoning life from everything around it. At last, it was healed.
The tiny body swelled grotesquely and underwent a terrifying metamorphosis. After a moment, where the bug had once lain in convalescence there now stood a red-stripped faerer. The hunting cat growled fiercely.
On the faerer’s face was a scar with one vertical line and two lines crossing, dividing the first line into thirds; it was the shape of the holy symbol, the Tricrus. Overlaying this scar were numerous other slashes, where the creature had mutilated its own face to deface and destroy the holy symbol. Even that self-debridement of flesh had been insufficient to allow the creature to exercise the full extent of its powers to heal itself, and the recovery had been abnormally long and arduous.
With a snarl, the faerer ran north. Now that most of its strength had been regained, the rest of its power would be restored more quickly. In a matter of days, it would be fully recovered.
I have returned, my brothers, Sal sent the thought blasting into the darkness surrounding his mind. Instantly, he felt the response of his brothers and The Three were again as one. The bond between them had slowly been reforming for the last few days, but only now was it strong enough for true communication. The other two read Sal’s fate in his mind and at the same time, Sal read the status of their own missions.
Min’s infiltration into the Prismatic chapterhouse had gone unnoticed, and he had set the paladin on a quest that would make Sal’s job that much easier. With the paladin hunting him, Sal had no need to stalk him and could proceed with the next portion of his mission. The paladin would seek him out in time, then Sal would kill him. What’s more, Min was slowly corrupting one who traveled with the paladin who would be used as a weapon against him when the time was right. Sal smiled.
Ran’s mission was similarly successful. Merishank was on the verge of boiling over, their natural inclination toward conquest taking a dangerous and unholy turn under Ran’s guidance. In the coming months, blacksmiths would be working day and night to produce enough weapons to supply the nation for war, and then their unsuspecting neighbors would suffer.
Ran had to practice caution, though, because turning them loose too soon would prevent Min from fulfilling his mission to weaken the paladins, and would make Sal’s other duties that much more difficult to fulfill. With that in mind, Sal lengthened his strides until he drew near the mortal city.
With one last stop, he snarled to himself. His brothers joined him in his fury, and Sal exploded on wings of fire as he changed shape once again, leapt into the air, and swooped toward the city the mortals called Demar.
- 2 -
Birch tightened the saddle on his horse. The animal was a paladin-trained, chestnut gelding and suited Birch’s needs for the momen
t. Selti crouched on the wall of the stall, glaring balefully at his equine replacement. Birch’s unwillingness to reveal Selti’s unique ability was apparently not sitting well with the dakkan, and Selti had taken every opportunity over the last week to let Birch know just how dissatisfied he was with the decision. He had even begun taking out his irritation on Birch’s new horse, but thus far the gelding had ignored the dakkan’s hostility.
“Behave yourself, Selti,” Birch barked as the dakkan made ready to pounce on the horse’s swishing tail. Selti stuck out his reptilian tongue and leapt skyward. He clung upside down on the rafters of the stable, hanging directly over Birch’s head. With a sigh, Birch went back to finishing his preparations.
The party of seven was in a small stable outside the paladin chapterhouse in the city of Berilana, a four-day ride north of Nocka. After taking more than a week to rest and deliver their individual reports, Birch and the others had set off on the advice of the Prismatic Council. They had received reports of a strong demonic presence near Den-Furral, the dwarven capital on the island north of Marash and Demar. The council thought it likely to be one or more of The Three.
They were supposed to meet a pair of dwarves here who would act as guides once they set sail from Ankor. The Thorn Straits were not easily traveled, and dwarves were more skilled than most at escaping them unscathed. One of the two they were meeting had helped the Prism in the past, the other was an Orange paladin.
Birch frowned, thinking about how few non-human paladins there were. He only knew of a handful of dwarves, no gnomes, and less than a hundred elves. To Birch’s knowledge, there were also no denarae in the Prism, nor had there ever been. Strange, because no matter what the Coalition of Men for Mankind proclaimed, denarae seemed to be the most closely related to humans. Except for their skin color, they were physically identical.
Birch shook his head.
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 23
