“Everywhere we go, Dhakaan was there before us,” said Ekhaas. “It stretched from one side of Khorvaire to the other. From ruins in the Endworld Mountains in the east to Yrlag along the Grithic River in the west; from Ja’shaarat, the city that forms the foundations of Sharn, in the south, and north to-” She shrugged. “There are legends that say dar reached the Frostfell during the height of Dhakaan’s power. We live with the ghosts of the empire.”
“And under the rod’s influence, Tariic would re-create it.” Chetiin walked a few paces in silence before adding, “Do you think such a thing would be so bad?”
Ekhaas’s ears flicked. “For most of my life,” she said, “I have been devoted to the memory of the empire. As Kech Volaar, I wouldn’t have wanted anything more than the glories of Dhakaan reborn. But the cost?” She spread her hands. “Even with the power of the Rod of Kings behind him, Tariic would face a battle with every other nation of Khorvaire.”
“The rod pushes him, shows him how an emperor ruled,” said Chetiin. “He doesn’t see the world as it is anymore, only as it was. Without the rod-without Tariic…”
Geth, walking ahead with Tenquis, looked back at them. “Are you seriously talking about a new empire?” he asked incredulously.
“A dream doesn’t die so easily, Geth,” Ekhaas said. “Dhakaan is with dar every moment, every day, and”-she stamped the surface of the road-“everywhere we go. The reminders of our past surround us. They are us. The Dhakaani knew muut and atcha. They had duur’kala. They gave birth to the shaarat’khesh. Some records in the vaults of Volaar Draal suggest that the oldest of the lowland Ghaal’dar clans like the Rhukaan Taash, the Gantii Vus, and the Mur Talaan might have origins in companies within the imperial armies.”
“Six thousand years ago when the empire fell!”
“It’s hard to break from the traditions of millennia. The legacy of Dhakaan marks our lives in ways we can’t control. Honor and duty bind us. We don’t just live with ghosts-we live under the tyranny of ghosts.” Ekhaas let a crooked smile emerge onto her face. “Just because I don’t believe a return to the Age of Dhakaan is possible doesn’t mean I don’t still dream about it.”
“Haruuc could have done it,” Tenquis said suddenly. “I’m no goblin, but I would have followed him.”
“Cho,” agreed Tooth. The bugbear had also slowed to listen to their conversation. “Haruuc could have. If the Last War had ended differently-”
He didn’t have the chance to finish his speculation. Some change in the rising heat of the afternoon brought a sluggish breeze to stir the leaves along the side of the road. Marrow’s head snapped up and around, her nostrils flaring, a growl rumbling from her throat. Chetiin whirled. “Varags!”
The wind-stirred bushes behind them exploded.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
13 Vult
Geth ripped Wrath from his scabbard, but their attackers were already on them. They moved fast. Very fast. He caught only a brief glimpse of hairy brown limbs before the first of the varags was on him. He barely got his gauntlet up in time to block the creature’s strike. A heavy grinder like Tooth’s but much older, the blade worn to a curve by long sharpening, went scraping across the black metal. Geth struck back, but the varag slid aside with frightening speed. His blow found only air.
Then it was past him and whirling to attack again. Geth turned, keeping it in his sight, and finally got a good look at the creature. The varag’s face resembled a hobgoblin’s, with flat nose and thin lips, but stretched out and thrust forward almost like a muzzle, its teeth sharp and prominent. Flat, heavy horns grew across its brow almost like armor. Its long, powerful legs had the backward bend of an animal’s. Its arms were almost as long as its legs and when the varag turned, it hunched forward to pivot around one clawed hand. Rough leathers wrapped a body that was as tall as a bugbear but much leaner, like a hungry wolf.
The varag howled as it lunged a second time-a battle cry, Geth realized as Wrath translated words barely recognizable as thick, guttural Goblin. “Blood and meat! Blood and meat!”
The ancient grinder battered Geth’s gauntlet again, but this time Geth twisted his hand and grabbed the varag’s arm as the blade skittered away. He stepped into the varag’s charge, ducked, and heaved. The shrieking creature-no matter that it spoke, used a weapon, and wore clothes, Geth couldn’t think of it as anything other than a beast-hurtled over his shoulder and crashed hard into the ancient stones of the road. Its words cut off with a clashing of teeth. The impact would only stun it for a moment. Geth moved in, Wrath raised and ready to chop down.
Long feet with claws even heavier than those on the varag’s fingers raked at him. Geth jumped back, but the claws still caught him a blow across the belly, shredding his shirt and tearing into his skin. The wounds were shallow-deeper and it would have been his guts instead of shreds of cloth sagging to the ground.
Geth wanted to look and see how the others were doing. He could hear the sounds of their fighting, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off his attacker. The varag was too fast. As it twisted to its feet and grabbed for its grinder, Geth reached into himself-and shifted.
Some shifters manifested claws or fangs or a burst of speed when they drew on the power of their lycanthrope ancestors. Geth’s gift was sheer toughness. He felt the sense of invulnerability that shifting brought burning in his blood, toughening his skin, making his already thick, coarse hair even thicker. The gashes across his belly closed themselves into angry scars. He sank back into a crouch, sword and gauntlet raised.
The varag hesitated, as if it could sense the change in him. As if it knew that he had become a little more like it. The creature paced back and forth, hunched over on three limbs, its nostrils flaring as it breathed in his scent. Geth peeled back his lips and snarled at it. The varag growled in return and came at him.
Geth leaped to meet it. They came together hard, but this time Geth caught the grinder on the back of Wrath. He twisted the twilight blade, and the deep teeth on the sword’s back caught the grinder, locking it in place. The varag howled and raked at him with the claws of its other hand, but all they did was add to the shreds that hung from Geth’s shirt and vest. Geth drew back his right arm, curled his gauntleted hand into a fist, and drove it hard into the varag’s face.
Bones crunched and the varag staggered back, blood welling up from the imprint of Geth’s knuckles. Geth didn’t let up. He stayed on top of the varag, holding the lock on its grinder, pounding away with his metal-encased fist. The thing’s howl of anger turned to one of pain and confusion. It let go of the grinder and turned to run.
Geth lunged and slashed with Wrath. The edge of the sword sliced into the meat of the varag’s leg. It folded instantly. The varag pitched forward, arms flailing. Geth didn’t give it a chance to recover. He struck hard and fast. Wrath bit deep into its shoulder and halfway through its neck.
A savage growl and a terrible, short scream brought him around, fear for his friends rising in him. The growl was Marrow, though, and the scream a varag-she had it on the ground, her massive jaws around its throat. As he watched, she twisted her head and ripped. The varag’s throat tore out in a spray of gore. Marrow threw her bloody muzzle back and howled her triumph.
Geth raised Wrath to the sky and howled with her.
Around Ekhaas and the others, the last two varags hesitated in their whirling, blurring attacks. One was already bleeding from a deep wound; the other bore the smoking scars of acidic fumes-one of Tenquis’s spells. Geth caught the glance that passed between them.
They were going to break, he realized, and if they ran, there would be no catching up to them. They would escape, and all the varags in the area would know there was two-legged prey to be had-if they didn’t already.
“Stop them!” he spat, but Tooth was already moving. With a stationary target, he swung his grinders as easily as if he were chopping jungle growth. The wounded varag was caught off guard. One arm came off at the elbow and went flying into the undergrowth.
The other came off at the shoulder and hit the ground with a meaty thump. A third stroke of Tooth’s grinders took off the creature’s head.
The final varag turned and ran. Tenquis flicked his wand at it with one hand, hurling a small metal sphere with the other-in the same moment that Ekhaas’s voice rose in song.
The sphere burst against the varag’s back. Thin yellow-green vapors, churned by the dissonance of Ekhaas’s song, billowed up around the fleeing creature. The varag wailed, clapping hands to its ears while squeezing its eyes shut, but it was too late. It stumbled away from the vapors and crashed to its knees, then slumped over. Its hair was already curled and black from the acid, the skin underneath already burned raw. Blood trickled between the fingers that still clutched its ears.
“Four of them,” said Chetiin. “Four of them against six of us. They don’t hold back.”
“I told you they’re not afraid of anything,” Tooth said hoarsely. “We were lucky it was only four. Maabet, we’re in trouble. Other varags will find the corpses. They’ll track us. If we can get out of their territory, we might be safe.”
Geth grabbed his arm. “We can’t turn back now.”
“You saw how fast varags move. Once they start tracking you, there’s no outrunning them. Even leaving their territory may not stop them, but it gives us a chance. We can let them quiet down, then come back.”
“Then Suud Anshaar is safer,” said Ekhaas. “You said varags don’t go near it.”
“That only makes it safe from varags,” Tooth growled. He pulled free from Geth and pointed up the old Dhakaani road. “That will take you right to the Wailing Hill. Or at least it’s supposed to. We’ve got a deal. I’ll wait for you at the other end of the road at noon, when the varags are mostly asleep, for three days. If you don’t come back, I’m heading back to Arthuun.”
“You’ll be on your own,” Geth said.
“Might be better.” Tooth turned and started trotting down the road, moving with surprising silence for someone as big as he.
The sudden shrieks of varags from that direction-not close but not so distant either, and not hunting calls, but more like a pack skirmish-made him pause. Marrow growled something.
“She says,” called Chetiin, “that if she was hunting, she’d follow prey on its own before she followed prey in a group.”
Tooth looked down the road, then back up at them. “Blood,” he grumbled-then came back to them. “But I’m not going into the ruins, just waiting for you outside them.”
Geth could have smiled at that, but the knot of fear that the howls produced in his own belly wouldn’t let him. “Done,” he said and started along the old road again.
The others fell in alongside him. Tooth looked at Ekhaas and Tenquis. “Any magic you have that might slow them down would be helpful.”
The duur’kala and the artificer glanced at each other, then Ekhaas shook her head. “No,” she said, “but I can help us move faster.”
She started to sing again, the song low but rhythmic. The magic caught at Geth’s feet, strengthened his legs, and eased the breath in his throat. Soon they were moving at a running pace, even though they still seemed only to be walking. He wasn’t sure they’d be able to outrun varags if the creatures gave chase, but at least they wouldn’t be as easy to catch.
He kept Wrath in his hand and ready.
The sun had moved a double handspan across the sky when shrieks and howls broke out behind them. The varags had become more active as the heat of the day had passed and Geth had almost gotten used to the distant barks and short screams. The sound that rose from behind them was different, though. It was angry. It was vengeful. It was hungry.
Geth knew what it meant-and he knew he didn’t have to say it to the others. The bodies of the varags they’d fought had been found. In unspoken agreement, they all picked up their already magically enhanced pace. The angry howls faded, and the only sound on the thick, hot air was Ekhaas’s song. Slowly the jungle birds found their voices again, and soon her song blended into theirs.
Tooth looked grim. “They’ll hunt in silence now,” he said. “Some will come up the road behind. Others will come through the trees. Those are the ones we’ll have to watch out for.”
The growth around them had changed. They’d entered a region of tall trees with a thick canopy that shaded and stunted smaller plants. The landscape was more open, and they could see a greater distance into the jungle. If varags did approach them through the trees, they’d be able to see them coming-hopefully. Plants weren’t the only things on the jungle floor. Here and there, vine-choked ruins rose out of centuries’ worth of fallen vegetation. Crumbling walls, heaps of squared stones, the shapes of buildings, all of them with the familiar designs of Dhakaani style.
“Are we there?” Geth asked Tooth. “Is this Suud Anshaar?”
“No,” the bugbear said. “These ruins have no name. There are places like this everywhere in the Khraal. But we’re getting close. The land is rising.” He grimaced. “And the sun is setting.”
Geth looked up to the canopy. Under the gloom of the trees, it was easy to lose track of the day. The green-tinged bright spot that was the sun had actually vanished from among the leaves, dipping down below the branches to throw irregular beams of brightness among the tree trunks. Where the light failed, shadows were deep; where it penetrated, the brilliance was dazzling.
Something in the middle distance flickered across one of the bars of light.
Geth’s breath caught in his throat. A bird? An animal? No, the jungle had gone quiet again.
“Varags,” he growled, tightening his grip on Wrath’s hilt. “They’re pacing us.”
Tooth cursed quietly, followed Geth’s gaze, then cursed again. Ekhaas looked, too, and her ears flattened back. Tenquis scanned the shadows. “Where?” he demanded, wand already raised.
Two more beams of sunlight flickered, and the tiefling cursed as well. Chetiin hissed suddenly, however. “They’re letting themselves be seen,” he said. “It’s a distraction. Watch the other side!”
Geth swung around and peered into the jungle on the other side of the road. With the light playing across them, the trees and ruins were better lit. Nothing moved there. “I don’t see-”
The attack came from above, launched from one of the lowest branches of the great trees. From the corner of his eye, Geth saw a swinging blur. There was no time to cry out as a varag gripping a long vine hurtled down into their midst. The creature howled just before it struck, a shocking sound. Powerful legs kicked out-at Ekhaas.
She fell hard, her song ending in a gasp of surprise. The magic faltered so suddenly that it left Geth-left all of them-reeling for an instant. The varag twisted on its vine, swinging around for another howling pass. Geth staggered, fighting to find his balance, and slashed by instinct more than intent. Wrath bit into flesh, the howl rose into a shriek, and the varag lost its grip on the vine. The creature hit the ground and rolled, arms and legs flailing. Marrow snarled and bounded after it.
Geth left the varag to its end beneath the worg’s jaws and went to Ekhaas. She was struggling to sit up, the heavy leather of her armor torn by the varag’s foot claws. Her breath came harsh. Geth took her hand and helped her up. “Are you-?”
“It knew what it was doing!” she gasped. “Just run!”
It knew what it was doing… the varag had deliberately targeted Ekhaas. Geth’s head snapped up and around.
The varags that had been pacing them in the middle distance were already racing directly toward them. There were more, too, swarming out of hiding places in the deep shadows.
“Rat!” He released Ekhaas to stand on her own. Tooth, Tenquis, and Chetiin had seen the danger too. Chetiin gestured sharply at a ruined wall, a defensible position that would keep the varags off their backs. Geth nodded and turned to it, but Ekhaas grabbed him.
“No, run!” she said. She pointed along the road. Geth looked — and saw what she’d seen ahead while he’d been staring into the jungle
to the side. Perhaps four long bowshots away, the red-gold sunlight shone where the road emerged from the trees and started to climb the slope of a hill.
Suud Anshaar? There was no time to wonder. The protection of the ruined wall was dubious, their six no match for the advancing number of varags. “Run!” he ordered and led the way.
The varags abandoned silence when they saw their prey break. Their howls and shrieks filled the jungle, and once again, Wrath translated the thick words for Geth. Meat! Blood! Flesh! He tried to block them out and concentrate on sprinting for the sunlight ahead.
The road gave them a slight edge-the varags were forced to contend with the underbrush in their pursuit. Even as thin as it was, it slowed them down just a little. Geth could hear them tearing through bushes, ferns, and clutching vines. He stole a glance over his shoulder and wished he hadn’t. The varags came on in bounding leaps, jumping over obstacles and running like animals on all fours. Marrow barked a challenge at them as she ran, but Chetiin had thrown himself onto her back. He leaned down close to her shoulders, whispering in her ears and keeping her on the road.
The bright end of the road drew closer. The undergrowth grew thicker at the jungle’s edge, but not so thick that Geth couldn’t see through it. There were ruins out there, big and blocky. Nothing to set them apart from the ruins they’d seen elsewhere in the jungle except that here the trees hadn’t taken hold.
Between one ragged breath and the next, he wondered what kind of place could exist for centuries in the middle of a jungle but not be taken over by it.
On his right, Ekhaas ran with long strides; on his left, Tooth had abandoned the stealth he’d shown earlier and charged forward like a bull, eyes fixed on the end of the road. Tenquis…
Tenquis was slowing, stopping as he fumbled in a pocket of his long vest. Geth spun back and grabbed for him. “Keep up!”
The tiefling wrenched his arm away. His golden eyes were blazing. “I can buy us time!”
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