The Queen of stone tob-1 Read online

  The Queen of stone

  ( Thorn of Breland - 1 )

  Keith Baker

  Keith Baker

  The Queen of stone

  CHAPTER ONE

  The City of Graywall Droaam Eyre 11, 998 YK

  The scents of sweat and blood filled the common room of the Bloody Tooth. A minotaur covered in matted black fur bellowed in triumph as he shook blood from his horns. Across the room, a tattooed ogre fell back against the rough stone wall of the tavern, baring three-inch fangs as she clutched her gory shoulder. As the horned beast moved forward to seal his victory, the ogre suddenly rose to her full nine-foot height. A swift snap of her hand sent her blood flying into the eyes of the minotaur. The crowd roared its approval as the two giants grappled again. The shrill voices of goblins mingled with the deeper cries of brutish bugbears and the chortling laughter of hyenalike gnolls. Gargoyles hissed and scratched the floor with stony talons, and the only two dwarves in the bar set aside their bone dice to concentrate on the match. As the brawlers clashed, onlookers spread slivers of precious metal and the teeth of fierce beasts on the tables and floor, tokens of value in a nation yet to mint a coin.

  None of the patrons noticed the woman in black as she moved along a wall, just another shadow in the faint and flickering light. Thorn wasn't the only woman of the Five Nations in the Bloody Tooth, but anyone with human blood in this place was likely a cutthroat, bandit, or worse. Thorn had no friends in that tavern-not even the man she had agreed to meet.

  Thorn slid a short dagger from its sheath, keeping the dark blade hidden behind her forearm. In this room, bare steel would be seen as a challenge, and the last thing she needed was a fight with a drunken bugbear.

  "Where's your gold?" she murmured quietly into the stale air. "Scars or horns?"

  You're looking for a goblin. The voice was a cool whisper, as clear as if the speaker were breathing into her ear, but Thorn knew no one else could hear it. I'm searching for the amulet now.

  "The ogre's a safe bet," Thorn said as another cheer rose from the crowd. "You're just afraid to take a chance."

  I have nothing to wager. Steel's voice was detached and indifferent. And I question your judgment. The ogre has already been injured twice. Her opponent possesses superior natural weaponry. I expect the contest to end soon.

  "I'm sure it will," Thorn said. "Look at the scars. She's seen worse than this. He hasn't."

  As if in answer, a roar rose up from the center of the room. As the minotaur charged, the ogre caught his horns in her calloused hands. Grunting from the exertion, she slammed the black-furred beast face-first into the stone floor. The minotaur spat blood and broken teeth, struggled to pull free as the ogre raised him up for another blow.

  Thorn smiled. "Where's the mark?"

  The aura is strong, but it's out of sight. The crevasse in the left corner. He's about seven feet down the passage. The southern wall of the Bloody Tooth was a sheer rock face, marred by a number of crevasses and small tunnels. Gnoll tunnels, Steel explained. This place must have been a lair. The young seek spaces too small for their parents to interfere with them.

  "A game?" Thorn said, dodging around a chanting gargoyle as she moved toward the tunnel mouth. Behind her, the crowd cried out again as the ogre smashed her enemy into the floor.

  If you call murder a game. They're quite competitive.

  "Lovely." Thorn paused at the edge of the passage. A goblin-or young gnoll-might have no difficulty fighting in the tunnel, but it would be a tight fit for her. "Is he alone?"

  I can sense only magical emanations. There's one additional aura. I believe it's some type of container, but it's difficult to read. It's an excellent abjuration effect-it can't have been made by his own kind.

  "So you don't know what's inside."

  No. But I can tell you it's more than it appears. I doubt there's a sorcerer in this city who would notice even that.

  "Fine. Let's go." She slipped the dagger into its sheath and stepped out of the tavern and into the dark passage. As Thorn squeezed through a tight corner, her vision shifted into a different spectrum, each stone highlighted in sharp black and white. Thorn slid a finger along her enchanted ring that provided this gift. As useful as it was in her line of work, Thorn was still uncomfortable with darkvision. She'd received the ring only two months ago, just before the mission at Far Passage.

  The crevasse came to an abrupt end. A goblin sat on the floor, a rough burlap bag at his side. He wore the gray rags of a laborer, and his skin was covered with dirt and sores. Looking up at Thorn, he plucked a withered tick from one leg and swallowed it.

  Thorn saw no sign of weapons or wands, and at this range she could strike before he could complete the workings of a spell. But the Silent Knives of Darguun were trained to kill with their bare hands, and Thorn knew better than to underestimate the little man. She dropped into a crouch and held out her hands, palms up. "Silence is sharp as a blade," she said.

  "Yes," said the goblin, his voice low. "Thorn of Breland, is it?"

  Thorn gave a slight nod. "Kalakhesh of Darguun?"

  "Yes," the goblin said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "Many tales I've heard of you, lady. Much for one so young, though perhaps it is the long-eared blood in your veins that keeps your skin so smooth. I felt sorrow when I learned of the death of Magister ir'Torath of Arcanix… all his research lost in that remarkable fire that consumed both house and bone."

  "It's always a tragedy when knowledge is destroyed." Thorn said. "I remember hearing about the Arcanix blaze in Sharn, when I was serving with the Royal Guard." She smiled, but behind the mask she was surprised. Not even the Royal Eyes of Aundair knew she'd killed the old wizard, yet it was clear that the goblin knew the truth.

  "Oh, so you were not involved?" Kalakhesh smiled. "Pardons-we know so little of your nations. And the damage at Far Passage, you were surely not part of this. We know your Citadel was the moving hand, but it is said all those involved were killed. And here you stand."

  Thorn stiffened, hating herself for reacting, knowing that the goblin had seen it. She could still hear Dellan's screams. And she still carried the crystal shards of the explosion in her flesh, embedded in her neck and spine. The stone at the base of her skull pulsed, the pain as sharp as a dagger pressed against her neck.

  "We have business in the here and now," she said, ignoring the pain. "I suggest we tend to it."

  "Yes," the goblin said. "We do have that." He slid a hand into the worn sack on the floor, producing a large book bound in black leather and gilded with strips of gold. The image of a sword gleamed on the spine, inlaid with bright silver. A figure in relief rose up from the cover-the full-sized image of a man's face. Strong features, jaw set, a slight cleft to his chin… familiar, but too faint to recognize.

  "I'll need to verify it," Thorn said.

  "Do as you must. My hand does not leave until I am paid, and it would be unwise to try to remove it any other way."

  Thorn nodded. The goblin hid his feelings well, but she could see the tension in his stance, preparation for battle or betrayal. But she intended neither. She drew her dagger and passed it slowly over the heavy book. The furrow of crimson steel running down the center of the blade burned with a faint light. Thorn said nothing, waiting for the whisper in her mind.

  Tell him to open it, Steel said.

  Thorn relayed the request, and Kalakhesh turned to a random page. Light filled the room, vellum glowing with a pale white radiance. The image of a knight in silver armor facing a dragon with blood-red scales and flames dripping from its vast maw caught Thorn's eye. The artistry was astonishing, both the sharpness of the lines and the brilliance of the color. Thorn half expected the flames to burn through the page, or
to see the image take life as the warrior leaped to dodge the snapping jaws. With a conscious effort, she pulled her eyes away from the picture and glanced at the facing page.

  The sheet was covered in words written in gleaming golden ink. In her peripheral vision, she'd seen a spidery, alien alphabet. Yet as she looked at the text, it flowed before her eyes, resolving into new shapes and intelligible words. It was an account of the action seen in the picture-the legendary knight Harryn Stormblade's encounter with Sarmondelaryx, the Bane of Thrane.

  Fascinating. It was the first time Thorn had heard any hint of surprise in Steel's voice. I can't imagine how this was made. This is what we are looking for, Lantern Thorn. Pay him and return to safer ground.

  And then I want some answers, Thorn thought. She couldn't voice her questions around the goblin, so she sheathed the dagger and nodded to Kalakhesh.

  "Satisfied?" The goblin closed the book and the light faded.

  "Yes." Holding out her hand, Thorn stared at her palm, tracing an arcane pattern with her thoughts. With her mind, she reached into her glove, into the small pocket of space mystically bound to the leather. She pulled, and a leather pouch appeared in her palm. Tugging at the cords, she held the bag open so Kalakhesh could see the glittering red stones within. "Twenty thousand galifars in Narathun rubies. Do you want to inspect them?"

  "Unlike you, I have confidence in my allies," Kalakhesh smiled, his eyes cold. "I doubt your Citadel would risk the wrath of the Silent Knives for such a small sum." He slid the book toward Thorn, reaching out for the treasure bag. He released the book as his fingers tightened on the pouch, and he rose to his feet.

  Thorn ran the fingers of her left hand across the cover of the book. Even through her gloves, the leather felt warm and soft, all too close to human flesh. She pressed her palm against the book and concentrated; the tome vanished, drawn into the space vacated by the pouch of gems. "How did you get it?"

  She didn't expect a response, but the goblin surprised her. "Luck, more than anything," he said. "And not a risk I'd take again, knowing what I would gain. I'd hoped to find a treasure for my people, not a curiosity for yours that would drive me from this country. I am glad to be done with it, and it is well enough that I am done with this place and still alive." Kalakhesh put the gems in his sack and threw the larger bag over his shoulder. "Give me a few steps before you follow."

  Thorn nodded and moved out of his way. "Good fortune on your return."

  "And you. Stay to the shadows. This is a bad place for my kind, and far worse for yours."

  Kalakhesh disappeared around the bend in the tunnel.

  The sounds of the brawl had ended, and Thorn wondered if the ogre had won her bout. If so, she'd probably be fighting again by the time Thorn emerged. They didn't call it The Bloody Tooth for nothing. Thorn resolved to give him the count of two hundred before she followed.

  Five.

  Ten.

  Pain!

  Every nerve in Thorn's body burned in agony. She fought against the pain, refusing to pass out. She clung to it, analyzed it, anything to distract her from the torment. And then it was over, leaving her shaken but still standing.

  Kalakhesh. The alien voice hissed in Thorn's mind. It sent a shiver of fear through her, like a nightmare she had thought she'd forced from her memory. You have taken something from the Daughters of Sora Kell, silent singer. I will have the book, and your secrets with it.

  "Lovely," Thorn whispered.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The City of Graywall Droaam Eyre 11, 998 YK

  The pain fades soon, little thief. The thought rose in her mind, carrying an awful sense of violation and shame, horribly different from her psychic rapport with Steel. The pain fades soon, and I will feast on your knowledge. All that I wish, you will tell me. All that remains, I will devour.

  Whatever was out there, it wanted the stolen book. She had to escape before Kalakhesh revealed the book's new owner, and there was only one way out of the Bloody Tooth. But Thorn had no intention of charging blindly into the unknown. She whispered a phrase she'd learned at the Citadel, letting her fingers dance along with the syllables, and as she spoke she could feel the power building within her. A tingling sensation swept over her skin as the last syllable left her lips, but there was no time to evaluate the results of her spell.

  As soon as she'd made the final gesture, she began again, working her way through another incantation. This one was more difficult, and she could feel the energy fighting her; just speaking the words of the spell was a challenge, each syllable forced through her lips. This was a ritual of invisibility, and as she finished she saw her hands fade before her. A wondrous gift for a spy, but with limitations. The veil lasted for only a few minutes, and it required a balance of intention-the magic hid her from enemies, but if she harmed another, the spell would shatter and she would be revealed.

  Thorn mouthed a silent, instinctive prayer to Olladra as she crept along the fissure, and thought of her father. He had raised her in the faith of the Sovereign Host, before the gods abandoned him to die in the Last War. She quietly drew her sharpest dagger-even if Olladra was listening, trust in her blades was more reliable than trust in any miracle.

  There was no time to discuss the situation with Steel, and she trusted that he'd keep silent; she couldn't afford distractions. It took only a moment to reach the mouth of the tunnel, and trusting her invisibility, Thorn stepped into the open room.

  Kalakhesh stood before her. His muscles were rigid, veins standing out like thick twine, and his bag lay on the floor beside him. The patrons of the Bloody Tooth watched from the shadows-goblin, gnoll, and gargoyle alike shocked into silence by the presence of the creature walking slowly toward Kalakhesh. The stranger wore a robe of black and red silk, with a high collar rising around his head. He was as gaunt as an old man, skin stretched tight across his bones. But this was no man. His oily flesh was the pale green of a dying toad. Four tentacles emerged from his chin, writhing and clutching at the air. His eyes were pale, bloated orbs with no trace of iris or pupil. His appearance was horrifying, but worse, as he drew closer, Thorn could feel the creature's thoughts wash over her… a ripple of malevolence, an echo of every humiliation she'd tried to forget.

  Mind flayer, Steel whispered.

  Despite the growing influence of the Daughters of Sora Kell, the land of Droaam was a realm ruled by fear. Ogres and harpies easily terrified humans, but it took something truly horrifying to frighten them. Mind flayers could read thoughts and crush the willpower of any being, and they fed on the brains of the living. This tentacled monster wasn't lying. He would enslave Kalakhesh, and when the goblin had revealed everything, the flayer would consume what was left of his mind.

  Xorchylic, Steel said. The lord of Graywall. Any flayer would be dangerous, but you cannot fight this one. We must leave. NOW!

  Thorn knew he was right, and yet she hesitated. The mind flayer moved slowly, basking in the terror of the audience. Paralyzed by psychic pain, Kalakhesh could only watch his death approaching. An awful way for anyone to die, but worse still for a spy. Knowing that he would be forced to betray his country, that every secret would be stripped from him…

  What are you waiting for? Steel hissed. Go!

  Thorn sidled up to Kalakhesh, carefully studying his neck. A revolting shiver of joy swept over her, the triumph of the flayer as it reached out for its prey. As Steel shouted in her thoughts, Thorn seized the goblin's head with one hand and struck with the other. Kalakhesh jerked as the enchanted blade severed his spine and drove into his brain, but it was pure reflex; it was a perfect killing blow, and Thorn knew he was dead on his feet.

  She slammed the heel of her hand against the goblin's head, forcing her blade free of its grisly sheath and driving the corpse forward. Blood and brain matter burst from the wound, spattering her right hand. But that was the least of her concerns. As Kalakhesh's corpse fell to its knees in front of the mind flayer, a tingling sizzled across Thorn's skin as her bloody blad
e appeared before her. Thorn had sought to spare the goblin from a horrible death, but for all that it was merciful, it was an act of aggression. Thorn had shattered her invisibility, and as the first drop of his blood struck the granite floor, she flickered into view.

  She knew she couldn't fight Xorchylic. He was too strong, one of the chosen lieutenants of the Daughters of Sora Kell. The master of Graywall would shatter her will and consume her mind, and no one would drive a dagger through her brain. There was only one thing she could do. As she shimmered into view, she stared directly into the mind flayer's eyes.

  For an instant she saw her image reflected in the pale white orbs, saw the snakes coiling around her head and the scales covering her skin. Then Xorchylic jerked away, raising his hands to shield his eyes, a satisfying pulse of pure terror radiating from his mind.

  It took something terrifying indeed to frighten a mind flayer.

  Thorn snatched Kalakhesh's bag off the floor and leaped forward, racing toward the arch leading to the street. The creatures in her way cried out in shock and fear, turning away and covering their faces. As she ran, Thorn thrust her hand inside the sack. Dropping her weapon into the space within, she formed an image of the bag of rubies in her mind, and as she'd hoped, she felt the contents shift and the purse rise into her grasp.

  STOP!!! The thought was carried on a wave of agony. All around Thorn, creatures twitched and screamed. A goblin collapsed, and a gargoyle dug furrows in its stony skin with its claws. But the pain flowed around her. She could feel the flayer's fury, though it was a distant echo; something pushed it away from her mind. Thorn didn't waste time questioning her good fortune. In his anger, the mind flayer had inadvertently stunned anyone who might have tried to block Thorn's path, including his own minions. Three ogres and a troll wearing the armor of the Flayer Guards spanned the archway, but all were moaning and clawing at their skulls.