Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death:

by Matt Forbeck

"Don’t forget that half-dragon he had with him,” said Burch, only half serious. "He had to be worth at least,” he looked to Kandler, "what would you say?”

  "Oh, a half a dragon. At least.” Kandler laughed, and it felt contagious. Espre had to join in.

  The next moment, though, Espre turned serious again. "Even rounding up, call that two dragons. How many are we likely to see in Argonnessen? Two dozen? Two hundred? Two thousand?”

  "What’s your point?” Kandler said.

  "What good are all these people going to do?” she asked. "Why risk everyone’s lives? We don’t all have to die.”

  Kandler looked hard into the elf-girl’s eyes. "Is this because Sallah wants to leave?”

  "She makes more sense than you admit.” As the words left her lips, Espre wished she could take them back, but it was far too late.

  Kandler pursed his lips for a moment. "Who would you put off the ship?” he asked. "Duro? Xalt? Monja?”

  Espre nodded.

  "Te’oma?”

  "Certainly.” She stifled a laugh.

  "Why stop there?” Burch said.

  "What do you mean?” Espre said. It felt like a stream of ice had shot through her guts.

  "Why not get rid of Kandler and me too?” Burch asked.

  Espre couldn’t read the shifter at all. She’d never been able to.

  "That’s what you’re suggesting, isn’t it?” Kandler asked after Espre hadn’t responded for a long moment. "You want to get rid of all of us and go off on your own.”

  Panic threatened to choke Espre. "I can fly the airship better than anyone,” she said. "You said so yourself. I don’t need anyone else. I can make it on my own.”

  Kandler stared at Espre, and now she realized she couldn’t read him either. She couldn’t tell if he was about to jump up and start yelling at her or if he’d just have Burch handle it for him.

  "Thank you,” Kandler said, reaching up for Espre. She fell to her knees next to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She hadn’t realized until then that she’d been trembling.

  "What for?” she said. "Because I don’t want you to come along with me?”

  Kandler stroked her long, blonde hair. "For wanting to save me,” he said. "For trying to see if there was a way you could do this on your own.”

  "I—I just wanted to do the grown-up thing,” she said. Kandler smiled. "Even grown-ups know they need all the help they can get.”

  Chapter

  12

  what in the name of the Silver Flame is that?” Sallah asked.

  Kandler peered out over the airship’s gunwale. They’d been flying south for two days now, and these were the first words Sallah had said to them since she’d declared her intent to leave the Phoenix the next time the airship landed.

  For that reason, Kandler had decided to avoid Krona Peak, the capitol of the Mror Holds, despite Duro’s pleas. Kandler declared that they already had plenty of supplies to make it to the southern coast, and he didn’t intend to stop for anything until they could see the sea. The dwarf had sulked for the better part of a day, but he’d perked up when they’d skirted the active volcano that towered over the southern end of the Ironroot Mountains.

  "The Fist of Onatar,” Duro had said, gaping in astonishment at the reddish lava leaking out of the mountaintop. "It must be. I’ve heard of it my entire life but never set eyes upon it.”

  "Onatar?” Xalt had said. "Is that not your god of artifice?” The warforged had managed to patch his arrow wound so well that Kandler might never have known it had been there.

  "Aye, and of the forge. He usually appears as a dwarf smith, you know.”

  "And as a brass dragon,” Monja had said.

  That had been enough for Kandler to order the ship to give the mountain a wide berth.

  From there, they’d steered clear of the mountains and kept over the burning sands of the Blade Desert, which followed the southwestern curve of the Endworld Mountains. This range stretched all the way to the ocean, and Kandler planned to follow it to its end.

  As Kandler gazed down at the desert floor below, he spied what had upset Sallah. Below them sat a windswept, sandy valley tucked up next to the mountains, and bones covered it from one end to the other.

  Even from as high up as the Phoenix scudded through the sky, Kandler could tell that these were bones. Scores of them stood as thick and tall as pine trees gathered as tight as a forest. He could pick out ribs, legs, arms, even wings. He spotted long, flat skulls too, some of which had to be as wide as a wagon and three times as long.

  "Those things could have swallowed a threehorn whole,” Monja said, as she and the others joined Kandler at the rail.

  Te’oma had the wheel, and when Kandler glanced back at her he saw her trying to crane her head high enough to see what all the commotion was about. He thought he saw her neck actually stretch a few inches.

  The halfling turned to Burch, her eyes wide with awe. "Is this . . . ? It has to be,” she said.

  The shifter nodded as he leaned far out over the gunwale. Kandler had to repress an urge to pull his friend back, even though he knew Burch could keep hold of the ship better than anyone. Instead he put an arm around Espre,

  who’d put her head and arms over the railing.

  "The Boneyard,” Burch said. "A dragon graveyard. Some say it's leftover from the Dragon-Elf War, but that’s mostly Valenar elves boasting over ale.”

  "They would peddle such lies,” Duro said gruffly. "Warmongers and glory hounds to a one.”

  Espre glared at Duro. W]jen the dwarf finally noticed, he blushed and said, "Or so I’ve heard.”

  "My people believe that dragons once ruled the entire world,” Monja said. "They once flew as thick through the skies of Khorvaire as a cloud of bats.” She spoke in hushed, reverent tones. "This is where their eldest came to end their days, to mix their bones among their own kind.”

  Kandler felt Espre shudder beside him. Sallah noticed too.

  "There are few such creatures in Khorvaire these days,” the lady knight said, a comforting hand on the young elf’s arm.

  "Nithkorrh was enough,” Espre said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  Everyone else nodded.

  "Should we go down?” Xalt asked.

  Kandler and the others stared at the warforged in horror.

  "You never disturb a graveyard,” Monja said. "Ever.”

  "Why not?” Xalt sounded like all of his five years of age. Although he’d been made whole and full-grown, he’d not had nearly the world experiences of Kandler or even Espre, and he could be ignorant about the strangest things.

  Monja held her hands in front of her and spoke slowly, as if to a young child. "Because the living protect the dead. That’s especially true with the Boneyard. Those who disturb a dead dragon’s bones risk bringing down a living beast’s wrath.”

  "Isn’t that what we want?” Xalt asked. "A dragon to fight?”

  Burch snorted. "We don’t want just any random dragon to show up. We want the ones who want to toast our little girl here.”

  "Don’t they all?”

  "Do all warforged think the same?”

  Xalt inclined his head. "I see.” He looked to Kandler. "Then how will we find the right dragons when we reach Argonnessen?”

  Kandler scowled.

  "Yes,” Sallah said, her hands on her hips. "Tell us.”

  "I didn’t say it was a great plan,” he said before he walked away. "Just the best one we have.”

  Kandler spat over the gunwale. The others had left him alone since they’d passed over the Boneyard. Perhaps the thought of so many dead dragons had sobered them. The thought that there were so many of the creatures to begin with shot ice through his guts. He wondered if he could really conceive how many of them there might be on an entire continent.

  He glanced at Espre. She sat on the deck below the raised bridge, soaking up the sunshine and chatting with Xalt and Duro. It warmed his heart to see her be able to put aside her cares, e
ven if for a short time. All too soon, she wouldn’t have time for anything of the sort. None of them would.

  Te’oma swooped overhead, and Kandler’s hand went to his sword. He left it there as she landed on the deck next to him.

  "Spot anything?” he asked.

  "Mostly a lot of sand,” Te’oma said. Her eyes turned the exact same shade of green as Sallah’s and twinkled at him. "But I did see one thing.”

  Kandler watched Burch leap down from the bridge, where he’d been talking with Monja. The shifter sauntered over to them as if there wasn’t a thing in the world worth rushing for, and that made the justicar suspicious.

  "What’s that?” he said, resolving to keep his eyes on the changeling.

  Te’oma looked down at Kandler’s sword and allowed herself a tiny laugh. You have nothing to fear from me, the changeling’s voice said in his head.

  In an instant, Kandler had his fangblade out, creasing the changeling’s throat. "I could have taken your head,” he said. "You leave mine alone, and I’ll leave yours.”

  Te’oma leaned back, away from the blade, exposing a thin, red cut where the blade had been. "Understood,” she said.

  "See you two’ve become good friends," Burch said as he strode up.

  Kandler sheathed his sword. With Burch next to him, the changeling wouldn’t dare try anything.

  "He did the same thing to me when we met,” the shifter told Te’oma. "He’s not much of a diplomat, but he gets his point across.”

  "What did you find out there?” Kandler asked the changeling.

  Te’oma smiled, exposing teeth whiter than even her skin. "A ruined city,” she said.

  "Out here in the desert?” Kandler said. He wondered if she could be lying about this and, if so, why.

  "It's inhabited,” she said. "I sawyuan-ti.”

  Now Kandler was sure she was lying. At least that settled one issue for him. If she’d lie about this, then she’d lie about anything.

  "She’s right,” said Burch.

  Kandler snapped his head around to stare at his friend. "It’s called Krezent. Used to be filled with couatl. Now it’s just the snakefolk.”

  The justicar felt like he’d been slapped. "Anything else about it you want to tell me?”

  Burch nodded. "They all worship the Silver Flame.” Kandler groaned.

  Burch jerked his head back at Sallah, who stood at the wheel now, talking with Monja. "What do you want to do?” "Yes,” Te’oma said, enjoying herself. She gave a little wave to Sallah, who ignored her. "Are you going to tell your girlfriend where she can get off?”

  Kandler fumed for a moment, wondering if anyone would miss Te’oma if he sliced off her wings and dumped her overboard right now. "Don’t say a word to her,” he said.

  "See,” Te’oma said, reaching out to caress Kandler’s cheek. "It’s not so hard is it?”

  "What’s that?” he asked, his eyes locked on Sallah. "Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

  Chapter

  13

  Yes?” Sallah said.

  When Kandler stalked on to the bridge, Monja took one look at him and scurried away. He suspected he knew what was on his mind, and he appreciated her giving him the space he wanted.

  "I . . .” He looked into Sallah's green eyes, the ones that Te’oma had mimicked so well, and his tongue froze in his mouth.

  "Ah,” the lady knight said, nodding. "I’d forgotten which one of us wasn’t talking to the other. Thank you for making that clear.”

  "No,” said Kandler. "I just wanted to . . .”

  He chewed on his bottom lip, not sure what he wanted to do. He just knew that he loved Sallah and wanted her to stay with him. All he had to do to make that happen for at least a few days longer was keep his mouth shut.

  Where was the harm in that, he wondered? It would only be a few days more she’d be forced to stay with the Phoenix. Of course, she was right. They hadn’t been talking at all for the past couple of days, so why drag out the inevitable?

  He should have dropped her off at Krona Peak, although he’d known that stopping there would never have been as simple as slowing down the airship enough for Sallah to get off. Duro would have bragged about how they’d killed Nithkorrh, and the dwarves there would have insisted on hearing the story over and over again. There would have been feasts to dine upon and counsels to keep, and all of that would have added up to more wasted days than Kandler cared to think about.

  Here, though, they could leave Sallah at Krezent and be gone—just like she’d said she’d wanted. Of course, she hadn’t objected to his bypassing Krona Peak. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind if he did so here.

  If he mentioned the possibility to her, it would only cause trouble. It would be better to keep quiet about it. He was sure about that.

  "We’re near a place called Krezent,” he said. "It’s not much more than a ruin, but a group of yuan-ti live there.”

  He stopped talking and tried to read Sallah’s reaction, but he’d seen statues display more emotion.

  "They worship the Silver Flame. I’m sure they’d be happy to take you in.”

  Sallah stared at Kandler for a moment, her face blank. Then she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. This surprised him so much that he barely returned it.

  "What was that for?” he asked, afraid he didn’t want to hear the answer. The kiss had felt something like good-bye.

  "I knew it,” she said, a gentle smile parting her full lips. She hadn’t looked upon him so kindly in days.

  "You knew about Krezent?”

  She nodded. "I’m a Knight of the Silver Flame. I’ve been trained to become one since birth. Of course I know about even the most remote outposts of our faith, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

  Kandler squinted at her smiling face. Here, in the sun, she had a few freckles across the bridge of her nose that he’d never noticed before.

  She reached out and caressed his cheek. "I knew you couldn’t hide it from me, that you wouldn’t. That’s not your way.”

  Kandler smiled back at the lady knight. Then his face fell. Such compliments meant little in the way of consolation if it meant she was going to leave. His eyes fell to where her hands rested on the wheel, then he glanced up to check the position of the sun.

  "I noticed you haven’t changed course,” he said.

  Sallah shook her head. "I’ll stay with you until we reach the coast.’’

  Kandler sighed in relief, then caught himself. "I knew you wouldn’t abandon us.” Then, seeing the look on her face, he added, "Yet.”

  "Do you know anything about Krezent?” she asked.

  "Just what Burch told me.”

  "It’s the remotest sort of remote. The reason no one but the yuan-ti live there is that it’s not suitable for other sorts. They have little contact with the outside world, just the occasional trading caravan that wanders through—or off course, as happens more often than not.

  "If I disembarked there, I wouldn’t have any way to go anywhere. I’m sure the priests there would take me in and protect me, but finding passage for me back to Thrane might take weeks or even months. Better that I stick with you until we cross a better-traveled path.”

  "Ah,” Kandler said, his face falling. The spark of hope in his heart that they might be able to work something out faded without catching fire.

  "I’m not going to Argonnessen with you,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. "It’s a fool’s journey. The Order has lost enough knights in this quest already. I’ll return to Flamekeep to tell your tale.”

  "Don’t you want to know how the story ends?”

  "If you go through with your plan to cross the Dragon-reach to take your fight to Argonnessen, I’m afraid I already do.”

  She kissed him. This time, he responded, knowing it might be the last time. When they broke apart, he turned and walked away.

  "You see those horses?” Burch asked, pointing down at a trio of riders who had broken off from the main force of caval
ry.

  Kandler shaded his eyes as he watched them gallop off to the south. They rode faster than the airship, although Espre wasn’t pushing the Phoenix hard right now. Kandler had asked her to take the wheel at the first sighting of the army, and the others had joined him at the prow to learn what they could of the tableau below.

  "Those are Valenar cavalry, the best in the world,” Burch said. "They go out of their way to prove it any chance they get. They’re bastards, and they’re always spoiling for a fight.”

  "Then what are they doing out here in the desert? ” Duro asked. "There doesn’t look like much around here to pick on other than lizards and birds.”

  "Some of the clans of my people used to roam these lands,” Monja said. "They got tired of dealing with these invaders, so they looked for friendlier lands with better neighbors.

  Kandler nodded. "The Valenar warclans used to run strikes into southern Cyre every couple of weeks. Ironic when you consider that Gyre brought them into the Last War as an ally in the first place.”

  "They do not bother the warforged or the Lord of Blades,” Xalt said. "The Lord of Blades sometimes sends his best fighters to test their mettle against the warclans, though. Sometimes a warclan will wait for weeks outside of the Mournland, waiting for a warforged force to show itself and enter battle.”

  "That’s madness,” Te’oma said. "They fight just to fight?”

  "Not everyone does it for money,” said Burch. "Some people take pride in their work.”

  "I never took pleasure in it,” the changeling said.

  "Can they do anything to harm us up here?” Sallah asked.

  She addressed Kandler directly. The two of them were speaking to each other again; although they both treated each other so respectfully, so dispassionately, Kandler felt like they might as well have kept their distance instead. Still, if she wanted to play things that way, he didn’t wish to stop her. Being with her, even in such a stilted way, was better than not being with her at all.#

  "No,” he said. "We’re too high up now. Sometimes they have a wizard or sorcerer in their retinue though. That’s why I had Espre move us higher as soon as Burch spotted them.”

  "Where are those riders headed?” Sallah asked.