The Road to Death: The Lost Mark, Book 2

by Forbeck, Matt

“Not the Lich Queen,” Te’oma said, her voice rising to a hysterical note. “My daughter!”

  The words shocked Kandler. He couldn’t help but feel pity for the changeling, although he didn’t imagine she deserved it.

  “What happened to her?” he asked.

  As the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them. He glanced at Burch, who shot him an insane look. He shrugged at the shifter, not understanding his actions any better than his old friend.

  “An angry mob stoned her to death after catching her impersonating their justicar.” The changeling wiped the tears from her face with the heels of her hands.

  “The Lich Queen couldn’t stop that?” The more Kandler knew, the less it seemed he understood.

  “She died three years ago,” Te’oma said, her voice as raw as her face. “The Lich Queen promised to restore her to life in exchange for my services.”

  “But now that you failed her, the deal’s off.”

  The changeling nodded, fighting back another round of tears.

  “Who’s not protecting her family now?” Burch asked, back in his spot on the windowsill.

  The changeling leaped off the bed, ready to attack the shifter, but Kandler shoved her back down before she got two steps away.

  “Try that again, and I’ll break your ankles,” he said. “As it is, you’re lucky I don’t rip those wings off your back.”

  “They could die,” she said, angling her back as far from Kandler and Burch as possible.

  “I wouldn’t be bothered by that.”

  “Do you have any other insults you’d like to heap on me, or can we get going now?” Te’oma said.

  The wind whipped through Kandler’s hair as he stood on the bow of Phoenix, shading his eyes with his hand and staring out toward the horizon in some vain hope of spotting a ring of fire floating there. As he brought his gaze back around to focus on the airship, he had to admit that Berre’s skeletons had done a fantastic job getting the ship back into shape. Besides being whole once again, it looked better than he’d ever seen it, polished and coated with fresh varnish and paint.

  Burch waved at him from where he watched over Te’oma, and the justicar nodded back. They’d chained the changeling in front of the bridge, between it and the hatch that led to the hold, by means of a length of links that led from her collar to a large, solid eyelet bolted through the deck.

  Despite her bonds, Te’oma seemed relaxed, almost cheerful. She’d been happy to put Fort Bones far behind her, and her joy put the justicar’s suspicions on edge. He still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t pulling some horrible scam on them, designed to send the heroes in the wrong direction while Ibrido got away. He’d had Monja petition the gods to confirm the truth in the changeling’s words, though, and Te’oma had passed that test. Despite that, he knew he could never trust her.

  Monja stood atop the railing where the raised bridge overlooked the main deck below, balanced on it with the confidence of a tightrope walker. She grinned into the rising sun, and her attitude infected the justicar enough to bring a tight smile to his lips.

  The ring of fire crackled overhead, driving the airship forward at top speed. Kandler imagined that the elemental trapped inside enjoyed moving again, although it might have preferred its freedom. The Karrns’ reinforcement of the mystical restraining arcs put that worry to rest for now. They ran from the stern and arced over and under the main part of the ship. At their ends, they held fast opposite sides of the fiery band that encircled the ship like a ring on a finger.

  If that ring ever managed to get loose of its restraints, the resultant explosion would consume the entire ship, he’d been told. Kandler preferred not to think about it.

  It felt good to be back on the road again, so to speak, even if that path took them a mile into the air. Kandler had always enjoyed traveling, sometimes more than arriving at his destination. The open road called to him in the way seas beckoned sailors.

  That was at least part of the reason he’d become an agent of the Citadel back in Sharn. As much as he loved the City of Towers, he couldn’t bear to stay in the place for more than a few weeks at a time. That job gave him a chance to serve his country and still not be confined to it.

  “Crown for your thoughts,” Sallah said as she appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest.

  “Who’s flying the ship?”

  “Monja.”

  “Is that wise?”

  Sallah pursed her lips. “Flying an airship requires a strong personality more than anything else. You have to be able to get the ship’s elemental to listen to you and follow your lead. Despite her size, Monja has one of the largest personalities I’ve ever encountered.”

  Kandler nodded, satisfied.

  “About those thoughts?”

  The justicar lowered his head for a moment before he gazed out past the prow and spoke. “All of us, we’re on this road together,” he said, “each of us with our own past and our own futures. Do any of us know where we’re going? Where does it all end?”

  “There’s an old Thranite proverb,” Sallah said, “ ‘All roads lead to death.’ ”

  Kandler laughed.

  “It means,” she continued, “that there’s no escaping our eventual fate. All of us are doomed to someday die. In the meantime, it’s our duty to make the best of the journey that we can.”

  “I think we can do that,” Kandler said, turning in Sallah’s arms and tenderly, tentatively kissing her full, pink lips. “As long as we’re on that road together.”

  Esprë stared at the cabin door for a long time. Violent dreams had disturbed her sleep enough that she felt as if she’d never shut her eyes. She might still be trying to rest if a skeleton hadn’t brought her a bland bowl of steaming gruel and a skin full of water sometime after dawn. She’d forced herself to eat it, all of it, not knowing how long it might be to her next meal.

  Then she sat on the couch and stared at the door. It was thin but solid, polished with a mahogany finish, just like the wood in the rest of the room. A shiny, brass doorknob stuck out of the right side of the door, and matching hinges lined the left side. It opened inward, and a brass sliding bolt and catch sat high on the door’s right side to give the captain his privacy.

  Esprë considered locking herself in the room and refusing to come out, but that would mean getting rid of her two skeleton guards first. They watched her without pause, their blank eye sockets following her wherever she went. At first, it made her skin crawl, but by the time she woke up this morning, she could ignore it.

  The young elf stood up, and the skeletons shifted in anticipation of accompanying her. Their bones rattled in their ill-fitting armor.

  Esprë strode to the door and flung it open. The wind that swirled through the room now had a way to go, and it blew past her, shoving her out on to the airship’s main deck.

  She gazed out over the deck and into the blue sky beyond. Karrnathi skeletons moved about the place like termites on an old log, busy and silent, performing the dozens of jobs necessary to keep such a massive craft in perfect shape. Some of them swabbed the deck, while others checked the actions on the ballistae mounts that lined the gunwales, keeping them in top condition. Another team of skeletons inspected the restraining arcs that held in place a massive, roaring ring of fire that spanned at least twice as wide as that around Phoenix.

  Esprë wondered about the creature trapped in that ring, how powerful it must be, and how angry. She hoped to take the ship’s wheel sometime and learn more about it. She’d come to enjoy working with the elemental that drove Phoenix, coaxing it to move the ship as she wished because it had decided it liked her. She took pride in the fact she’d been able to forge that kind of friendship with the thing. Trapped elementals rarely cared for their masters and often refused to serve those who could not somehow massage their massive egos.

  She wondered how Ibrido flew the ship. None of the skeletons could manage it, she knew. It required a forceful personality, which they didn’t have.


  She spied the dragon-elf standing on the bridge and decided to satisfy her curiosity. She strode across the deck, the winds whipping through her clothes, snapping her long hair around her like a golden banner in a storm.

  Ibrido spotted her crossing the ship and waited for her on the deck. As she neared, she saw his hands gripped the ship’s wheel like it was a weapon. She thought he might tear the thing off and hurl it into the ring if it disobeyed him.

  She wondered, for a moment, what might have happened to the bosun, but she put such thoughts out of her head. If the man was dead, she could do nothing for him. If he was alive, then all the better.

  “Good,” Ibrido said as Esprë climbed the stairs to the bridge. “I feared you might spend the entire trip in the cabin. This is a view that no one should miss.”

  Esprë turned to look in the direction the airship charged, and her breath caught in her chest. There, on the horizon, a range of high, snow-capped mountains stretched before her. Below the pure, white peaks, the steep slopes turned a rusty red before tumbling down into leagues of rolling foothills covered with green grasses and the occasional stand of trees. Feathery wisps of clouds, lit a glowing gold by the sun rising behind them, spiraled high in the sky over the mountain-tops, which seemed to stretch from one side of the world to the other.

  “Where are we?” she said when she could speak again. She clutched her arms around her for warmth. While the sun promised to heat the land later in the day, standing on the deck reminded her how cool the sky could be.

  “We are flying over Karrnath still,” Ibrido said. He seemed almost careless about her presence, and his confidence irritated Esprë. She wished she could detect even a hint of fear about him, fear of her nascent powers.

  “What are those?” she said, pointing out at the mountains. “I mean, what are they called?”

  “The Ironroot Mountains. They mark where Karrnath ends and the lands of the dwarf clans begin. They call the region the Mror Holds, and for the most part their word is law there.”

  “Is that where we’re going?” Esprë held her breath as she waited for the dragon-elf’s answer. Would he keep his plans a secret, or would his arrogance loosen his tongue, she wondered.

  “It is but the first step on our journey,” he said. “We must report in to my superior here in Khorvaire.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Esprë looked up at the dragon-elf, who stood a good two feet taller than her. He stared down at her with suspicious eyes.

  “Just curious about my fate,” she said.

  “You could say the same of any of us.”

  Ibrido returned his attention to the horizon again. Esprë noticed that he hadn’t any hair for the wind to ruffle, although it wobbled through the small ridges of horns that ran back from between his eyes and over his wide, batlike ears. They seemed like eyebrows, and their slant gave him an evil, savage look even when he was in a good mood. They fit him well.

  “What does your superior want with me?” she asked.

  “The last time the Mark of Death appeared, it triggered a crusade that ended with the death of an entire house of elves.”

  “Why?” Esprë said, horrified.

  “To make sure it would never arise again.” He looked askance at her. “It seems they missed at least one of your ancestors.”

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler just to kill me?” she asked. She knew she wouldn’t like the answer to this, whatever it was, but she had to know why she still lived.

  “If they were only interested in picking the Mark of Death like a weed any time it appeared. They want to tear it out by the roots. To do that, they need to learn everything they can about you and your elf family.”

  “I don’t have any family,” Esprë said, “just Kandler, and he’s no elf. My blood parents are dead.”

  “They had parents and aunts and uncles and cousins. Any of them might also be able to produce an offspring with the Mark of Death, just like you. They must all be exterminated.”

  Esprë felt the need to vomit. The thought that her dragonmark could bring doom to anyone related to her in any way—everyone! She couldn’t bear it.

  “I don’t know any of my relatives,” she said, “not even their names. We moved to Khorvaire when I was too young to remember.”

  “Even if that’s true, it matters not. My masters have powerful spells they can weave to learn your history and that of your line. Once they have you in their clutches, they can begin their inquest. This time, they will not make the same mistake. No one will be missed.”

  “The Undying Court will never let you get away with it,” Esprë said. “This will mean war.”

  Ibrido snorted at that. “You are an amusing child,” he said. “How unfortunate that you know so little about the forces that whirl around you.”

  “What do you mean?” Esprë said.

  “Who do you think helped destroy the Mark of Death the last time?”

  Esprë, are you there?

  The changeling’s voice rang in the young elf’s mind. She’d returned to the captain’s cabin and locked the door behind her. She knew that Ibrido could break the door down if he wanted to get to her, but she didn’t want him to see her cry.

  She’d thought long and hard about everything the dragon-elf had told her. Deep down, she knew it all made sense. She didn’t want to believe any of it, but the fact that he had stolen her from another kidnapper to whisk her off to the Ironroot Mountains—and then beyond—meant there had to be something to it.

  Esprë?

  For a long time after she’d left the bridge, Esprë had considered killing herself. It wouldn’t be easy. She guessed that Ibrido had given the skeletons orders to protect her if they could. They wouldn’t just let her dive through the shattered windows in the front of the captain’s cabin. Would they?

  Esprë had been working up the courage to try when the changeling contacted her again. Would the girl’s death put an end to the plans to destroy everyone who shared any kind of blood with her, or would it be some kind of pointless gesture? She’d heard that powerful priests could raise even the ancient dead back to life. Her persecutors no doubt had access to such power.

  Esprë?

  “Yes,” the young elf said aloud, “I’m here. She glanced at her skeletal jailors, but they remained as impassive as ever.

  Thank the Host. Where are you?

  “I’m back in the captain’s cabin.” Esprë wondered if the changeling could hear the rawness in her voice. She didn’t want her to know she’d been crying either.

  You got out onto the deck?

  “Yes, and the bridge.”

  Can you tell where you’re going?

  “I’ve never been to this part of the world before. I don’t recognize anything.”

  Of course. What direction are you heading?

  “Still east by northeast, I think.”

  Do you see any landmarks around you? Anything we could use to steer by?

  “We’re heading for the Ironroot Mountains. At least that’s what Ibrido says.”

  Ibrido? You spoke with him?

  Esprë looked up at the skeletons. They hadn’t moved since she started talking to Te’oma over their mindlink. Could they hear her? Even if so, could they report what she said to their master? They couldn’t speak for sure. Could they write? Use hand signals?

  She didn’t think so.

  “Yes. He’s flying the ship.”

  Do you think there’s a way you could get free?

  Esprë shook her head, even though she knew Te’oma couldn’t see her. “No. He’s ordered the skeletons to kill me if anything happens to him.”

  Damn.

  Esprë waited for a moment. “Are you still there?”

  Yes. I’m sorry. I was relating things to Kandler.

  “Tell him I love him.”

  He knows.

  “Tell him anyhow.”

  I will.

  “Ibrido says he’s taking me away.�
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  We won’t let that happen.

  “How are you going to stop it?”

  We’re—we’re working on that.

  “We’re going to visit someone living in the Mror Holds first.”

  A dwarf? This doesn’t seem like the work of the Iron Council.

  Esprë shrugged, even though she knew Te’oma couldn’t see it. “How far behind me are you?”

  We have no way of knowing. We’re coming after you as fast as we can.

  “We should reach the mountains soon.”

  Do what you can to delay Ibrido. The longer you stay in the mountains, the better our chance to catch up with you.

  “I think Phoenix moves faster than this airship. Ibrido is mean to the elemental. Maybe it doesn’t move so quickly for him, or maybe it’s because the ship is so big.”

  Just keep alert. Do you think Ibrido suspects I’m talking to you?

  “I don’t see how he could.” Esprë looked up at the skeletons. They still hadn’t moved. “I’ve been careful.”

  Be sure you keep it that way. We need you alive.

  “You mean you need me alive. Isn’t that why you’re helping Kandler now? Once you rescue me from Ibrido, aren’t you just going to try to kidnap me yourself again?”

  Don’t be silly.

  “I’m not being silly. I’m not a little girl. I’m older than you.”

  I’m sorry. I—I don’t have any plans to kidnap you again. Once we get you back, I’ll sit down with Kandler, and we’ll figure out what’s best for you.

  “Don’t you mean what’s best for you? What about your daughter?”

  For a long moment, the only thoughts in Esprë’s head were her own.

  “Well?”

  I failed the Lich Queen. She put an end to our agreement.

  “Even if you manage to get me back and deliver me to her anyhow?”

  She doesn’t think that’s possible.

  “You do. Don’t think I trust you for a minute. Be sure to tell Kandler that too.”

  You don’t need to worry about that. If you could see me right now, you’d know he doesn’t trust me either. He has me chained to the deck by a collar, and that shifter friend of his watches me constantly.