The vision appeared in fragments and flickers, images called from the misty depth of the tall silver scrying mirror in the antechamber to the chapel. It was placed there so that the Black Knight could look over the field of battle before it went to join the fight; but, as with so much else, nobody had ever bothered to inform Pallian that he had access to that resource.
I should have consulted with the elders earlier, he thought. I should have been talking to them, learning from, this whole time. Only... when I was first sent here all I wanted was to be left alone, and I assumed that was what they wanted too. He pushed the thought aside, kept his attention on the mirror.
It was... he caught a glimpse of a massive statue supporting a section of curved wall, there and gone again with nothing to establish any sense of scale; a shattered remnant of the city wall, partly melted and twisted up to flow into the smooth white wall behind it; a more distant image of a tower, flickering against a distant horizon; a half-dozen stone statues held in a great stone hand; ramps and balconies and parapets...
"Whatever it is, it's replaced the city," said the sturdy older woman, her expression blank with concentration. "It's using a huge amount of magic, enough to warp the shape of this plane. I doubt there's a House out there who isn't aware of it by now."
"How the hell are the rest of the Second not aware of it by now?" asked Pallian. "Has there been any activity at the Tomb of the First?"
"Some," said Dakrin Eld. "Not what I would have expected. Perhaps the others are waiting to see what happens. It's been centuries since any of them roused enough to dream their way free like this, after all."
"We have to go back," said the Shadow of Edrias, in that genderless, whispering voice. "We must free the royals if we can."
There was a stirring behind them, and a woman's voice -- clear and ancient -- said, "And who are you, to set the course of the Black Knight of Teregor?" The elders parted, clearing a path from the door to the mirror, as an elderly woman approached.
Pallian recognized her immediately and stepped forward. "Grandmother, this is third-princess Ashmiren of Edrias, in her guise as the Shadow of Edrias, our ancestral enemy and sworn ally."
"Ancestral enemy," the Grandmother all but spat, striding easily towards them. "Pshaw. Edrias is a lovely place and a worthy neighbor. Just because little Taimra was bitter over--" She broke off, looking at Ashmiren. "Forgive me. I am unused to visitors, and my hospitality is lax. You are a welcome ally, it seems, and our guest. Forgive me; I spoke harshly, and in ignorance. Nevertheless, returning to that tower is the very last thing you must do."
The Shadow of Edrias, standing exposed before the gaze of the honorable dead of House Teres, might have swallowed; it was impossible to say. But she came to the Grandmother and knelt before her. "As your guest," she said, "it behooves me to listen to your tales and your wisdom to share what I can of my own." Then, and entirely to Pallian's surprise, she added: "Even if you don't keep riding bats."
Before he could even choke in surprise, the Grandmother looked down at her. "Do we not? Have they become just tales? The eastern caverns are rich with them, and a double dozen of the elders here could teach you the ways of the sightless ride."
Pallian interrupted gently, because events were moving quickly and he had the feeling that every heartbeat might count. "Grandmother, what must we do?"
"You cannot defeat the Second at the tower he has raised, because he is not truly there. You can only slay him in the Tomb of the First, where his body lies dreaming. There are ways to do that, but the most effective would be the Dagger of the First, called Life-Drinker, which was said to be returned to the sarcophagus some seventeen hundred years ago."
Ashmiren rose to her feet. "Then we have our goal," she said.
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