Sorcery of a Queen by Brian Naslund

Author:Brian Naslund
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

25

BERSHAD

Ghost Moth Island, Beyond the Bone Wall

Once Ashlyn had explained everyone’s part in rescuing Wendell, they continued into the heart of the island, trekking across corrupted forest and meadow and marsh. The farther they traveled, the more machinery they encountered that was intertwined and implanted into the landscape. The air reeked of chemicals.

They passed fetid pools of thick slime that were fed by copper pipes sprouting from the broken ground. Enormous mushrooms that had been festooned with wires and attached to arcane machinery, which had turned their caps black and shiny. The few animals they did see were mostly deformed rodents or lizards—ridges of fungus ran along their skulls and sprouted from their ears and mouths and noses. The animals scurried into the shadows as they passed. Watched them with weeping, corrupted eyes.

Eventually, they reached more Ghost Moth carcasses. Scores of them.

They’d all been killed the same way—a ballista bolt through the forehead. Their bellies had been cut open and their bodies excavated, then propped up with iron rods. But these hadn’t been completely hollowed out like the first one. They passed a juvenile with an intact heart and liver, both of which were connected to wide ceramic pipes that ran along the ground, disappearing into the murky gloom ahead. Another one nearby had the bones of its hind legs preserved and attached to the same type of ceramic pipe.

“So this is how Osyrus did it,” Ashlyn said, tapping the place where the pipe was fused to the bone. “He ran some kind of preservation fluid through the bone marrow.” She followed the pipe with her eyes. “The rest of the apparatus must be up ahead.”

“So is Kasamir and his giant,” Bershad said, motioning to the tracks, which followed alongside the pipe, too. They were fresh. He turned to Felgor. His part in Ashlyn’s plan was the most important, but it was also the most dangerous. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Don’t worry about old Felgor—these fingers haven’t failed me yet.” He wiggled his right hand.

Bershad crossed his arms. He was worried, even if Felgor wasn’t. “This doesn’t work if you don’t take him by surprise,” he said.

“I have some significant sneak to me.”

“You do. But this is Kasamir’s territory. He said he could smell us. I’m thinking that all the time he’s been on this island, anything fresh—anything that doesn’t belong—stands out to him.”

Bershad looked around. Eyes settling on the Ghost Moth carcass with the preserved heart and liver.

“But he won’t notice a dragon’s scent,” Ashlyn finished.

“Right.”

Ashlyn stepped closer to the dragon, examining the liver, which was the size of a baroness’s bed. “Goll, hand me your knife. The liver enzymes will make the perfect mask for Felgor’s scent.”

“What? Enzymes? Mask? What are you talking about?”

Goll laughed. “They’re gonna coat you in dragon juice, Balarian. That’s obvious.”

“But … but that’s … there’s got to be another way.”

“Goll. The knife.”

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