guards. She gestured to them imperiously.
Neimal was visible from any point on the wall by the sword she held in her hand. Purple fire danced along the blade, reacting to the portal set into the cavern wall several yards away. Strangely, Neimal had not yet activated it to admit the caravan that approached the city from the Shadowfell above.
As he followed the brothers to where the witch stood, Ashok looked out over Ikemmu, the city of towers. Four spires rose in the distance: the towers Makthar, Pyton, Hevalor, and Athanon. His gaze lingered on Athanon, the soldiers’ house and the domain of Uwan, the city leader. Though the city appeared calm, with the shadar-kai and the trader races mingling as usual, Ashok felt an inexplicable restlessness, as if the city itself were waiting for something. He didn’t know what it was, but he’d sensed the feeling grow over the past several tendays.
Cree nudged him. “Something wrong?”
Ashok forced a careless grin onto his face. “Afraid you might have bruised my tender neck?”
Cree scoffed. “You know I’m not. You look weary, and you haven’t been weary for eight months. What’s wrong?”
Ashok’s smile turned rueful. He’d forgotten that Cree was often more perceptive than his brother. “Last night, I had strange dreams.”
“What sort of dreams?” Cree asked.
“I don’t remember,” Ashok said. “But I thought I heard someone screaming.…”
Cree’s expression reflected Ashok’s concern. “Do you think it’s the nightmare?”
Ashok felt an involuntary surge of excitement at the mention of the demon horse he’d trained and released back to the Shadowfell. “I don’t see how,” Ashok said. “As you said, it’s been eight months since we saw the beast.”
“Maybe you should ask Uwan about it,” Cree suggested.
“Uwan has more important things to worry about than what goes on in my dreams,” Ashok said.
Cree started to reply, but Ashok motioned him silent. They were within earshot of Neimal and the other guards on the wall. The witch looked more agitated than usual.
“The caravan is overdue,” she told them. “The guards at the upper portal sighted a dust storm coming fast across the plain. They believe the caravan is somewhere in the middle of it.”
“Send a patrol out after it,” Ashok said. “If we can get to them, we can guide them through.”
“No,” the witch said. “If you get turned around in the storm, you’ll end up as lost as they are. Tuva and Vlahna lead the caravan; they know to dig in and wait out the dust. We will wait for them.”
Ashok wanted to argue. He relished the idea of pitting himself against the fierce dust storm, but he knew better than to cross the Sworn of the Wall. He suspected Neimal hadn’t forgiven him for eluding her and her guards during his attempted escape all those months ago. Now that he held the rank of Guardian, he could come and go as he pleased, but he was still wary around Neimal.
Suddenly, the witch stiffened, and her black eyes lost focus. Ashok stepped forward, but Neimal raised the flaming sword, warning him off.
“Don’t touch her,” Cree said. “She’s connected to the minds of the guards at the portal. If you distract her, she won’t thank you for it.”
Skagi chuckled. “He means she’ll cut you into tiny pieces.”
“The caravan is here,” Neimal said. Her voice sounded strained. Her head jerked, and she swung her blade up involuntarily, as if attacking a ghost.
“What is it?” Ashok demanded, losing patience.
“The shadows have broken free,” Neimal said. “Cages are empty-they’re attacking out of the storm.” The witch drew a shuddering breath.
“What’s she talking about?” Skagi said.
“The shadow beasts,” Ashok said. Whatever the caravan captured-the beasts must be loose. He turned and sprinted for the gate. “Open the portal!” he shouted to Neimal.
He didn’t see the Sworn raise her sword, but the keystone at the top of the portal arch glowed, illuminating the sword of Tempus, god of war, carved upon it. The portal activated with a flash of purple radiance.
The warriors closest to the gate teleported to the ground and ran for the portal at Neimal’s shouted command. Ashok joined them. He and three other shadar-kai still in their incorporeal forms were the first to reach the arch. Ashok didn’t wait to see if Cree and Skagi followed him. He knew the warriors would be close at his back. He waited for his body to take on substance again, unlooped his spiked chain, and charged through the portal.
He came out on the Shadowfell plain into the remnants of the dust storm. Wind gusts ripped across the dry, cracked earth, blinding him with choking grit. The portal guards were nowhere in sight. Ashok pulled up the hood of his cloak and lifted his tunic to cover his mouth and nose. To his left, not far away, he saw an overturned wagon, its wheels spinning and its contents scattered over the ground. Spare wagon wheels, horse tack, tent cloth, and weapons lay everywhere, some splashed with blood. Beyond that was an empty iron cage used to house the shadow beasts for transport. Two of the shadar-kai caravan crew used it as cover. The guards from the wall ran over to them, but Ashok stayed where he was.
In the distance, indistinct shapes loomed on the plain-more wreckage and the curled-up humps of corpses- but some of the shadows moved, prowling the remnants. Ashok gripped his chain and started toward these.
“Watch behind you!” a voice cried out-one of the caravan guards. Ashok spun, but there was nothing there. The dust was too thick to see beyond a few yards.
In that breath, Cree and Skagi burst through the portal, weapons drawn.
“How many are there?” Ashok called to the caravan guard.
The man stood up, and from his bearing, Ashok knew he must be one of the caravan masters, Tuva. The other guard, a woman, rose up beside him. Vlahna.
“Four spectral panthers,” Tuva told Ashok. “They’re like ghosts-they come out of nowhere in this damned dust.”
The man had a loud, deep voice that Ashok heard clearly over the roar of the wind. Darker than most shadar-kai, he had broad shoulders and wore a heavy suit of shadowmail that made his upper body look all the more massive.
Standing next to him, the woman looked like a child. She had short white hair that the wind tossed around her face. A solid band of tattoos covered her eyes like a mask and tapered down her cheeks in the shape of spiked chains. She carried a weapon similar to Ashok’s, but she’d wound the spikes around her left arm, which was covered in reinforced bands of brown leather, in addition to her armor, to protect her flesh.
“You’re the only ones left?” Cree said. Ashok heard the tension in his voice. He knew Cree wasn’t afraid but was holding himself in check, as Ashok was.
As they all were.
The caravan masters exchanged a glance. “We can’t be sure,” Vlahna said. “All of us were scattered.”
“Including the portal Guardians,” Ashok said, nodding toward the archway.
“Only one way to find them,” Skagi said, twirling his falchion. Ashok could practically feel the energy radiating from the big man’s body.
“Spread out,” Vlahna said, “but keep one another in sight.” She nodded to the shadar-kai who’d come through the portal with Ashok. “Stand guard here while the portal’s open.”
Tuva turned away, and a spectral panther landed on the overturned cage.
“Get back!” Ashok screamed. He brought his chain up-his arm seemed to move in slow motion. The panther bunched up its hindquarters and sprang, wrapping massive paws around Tuva’s shoulders. The shadar-kai went down hard under the weight of the beast. Ashok’s chain soared high and missed them both.
“Watch our backs!” Ashok moved into a line with Cree and Skagi on either side of him. The brothers fell back, forming a small perimeter.
Vlahna ran to Tuva’s aid. She slashed the panther in the back of the neck with her spikes and darted away as the beast roared and swiped at her. Three-inch claws laid open the armor at her thigh and dug into flesh. Tuva rolled away and drew a greatsword. He held his left hand to a gash at his neck.
To his left, Ashok heard Skagi shout a warning and teleport to avoid another leaping panther. The beast landed in their midst, its claws digging into the earth for balance. This time Ashok snapped his chain out and looped it around the panther’s neck. He turned to find Cree and had a glimpse of the man slashing a katar at a third panther that appeared in front of him. A layer of thick dust caked the panthers’ dark coats. The gritty air hampered
