Fortress of Shadow by Eric Kent Edstrom

Author:Eric Kent Edstrom [Edstrom, Eric Kent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Undermountain Books LLC

33

The Problem of the Motherlight

Tordain shone in the predawn, a topography of pearly domes tinged orange by the rising sun. The city spread along the eastern shore of the Sorgeal Sea, which glimmered just beyond it. At the furthest reach of the horizon lay the hazy shore of the Kovi-Mest. Henley felt for Kila on the bond and confirmed that she had moved. North. Very far.

The sudden shift had awakened him from his horseback slumbers. Worry gnawed at him, for he knew what lay far to the north.

She must have used a Derslin Wheel, Huff. She’s never been anywhere up there before.

Huff had no opinion on it other than to ask, Why did she leave Nax behind?

Kila’s cat was still to the east.

He didn’t know why and there was nothing to be done about it. He couldn’t follow Kila. It seemed that the force of destiny wanted them parted for now. So strange. He’d been repeatedly pulled into her chaotic fellstorm of a life. And now he had to find this Motherlight relic.

He turned his eyes back to the city. It was obviously a First Race creation, for the craftsmanship to erect such huge domes was beyond the ken of humankind. He rode Sassy down the road, easy in the saddle now, if a bit sore. Yiqa kept ahead of him, back erect but pliant, like the shaft of a whipaxe. He didn’t bother asking questions about the city. If she knew the answers, she wouldn’t offer more than a few words. If she didn’t, she’d ignore the question entirely.

A salty breeze came to him, pulling with it the dry and tea-like scent of the pale green shrubs that covered the land here. Winter did not touch this region with such icy claws as it did Starside, and he enjoyed the warmth of the air.

Huff sat in front of Henley, balancing easily as a sailor on the deck of a gently rolling ship. The cat had developed a condescending fondness for the beast, whom he had named Sassy for no reason Henley could divine. Huff assured him several times that he had not spoken to the horse. Henley wasn’t convinced.

The city is elnisian, Huff. Look at the spires to the north. Maybe that’s the palace of the Autarch.

Huff humored him by looking in the general direction of the spires. They thrust from the tops of two enormous domes. As far as Henley was from the city, it was hard to gauge the domes’ size, but he guessed each covered an area as large as Dunne Medow Plaza. The spires shot up from the peaks of these white wonders to spear skyward, thinning to needle sharpness at the tops. Hard slanting rays of the peeping sun glinted from the pinnacles, shooting flares of gold into Henley’s eyes. Huff squinted and looked away.

Tordain was surrounded by rolling hills covered with vineyards. This was the land where coveted Tordanaise wine originated. Henley’s father had never secured a license to import it to Starside. That honor was held by the Keel family.

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