hall.'
'Thrane and Karrnath?' Thorn said. 'And you left them alone? Would you care to lay odds on which side is still standing when we arrive?'
Kantar's smile widened, revealing disturbingly sharp teeth. 'Oh, they aren't alone. My ladies have called many of the warlords of Droaam to the Crag for this gathering. You'll see. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, lady. You are-?'
Beren stepped in to answer. 'This is my aide, Nyrielle Tam.'
'I see.' The giant vizier paused for a moment to look at her, then glanced at Toli before he resumed his pace. 'It's fascinating to see whom each nation chose to send. And I am sorry that you lost one of your men in that unfortunate attack.'
'And what of that?' Beren said. 'I trust you've learned something about the attack by now. Are we still in danger?'
'It is not my place to answer such questions,' Kantar replied. 'Tonight Sora Katra speaks with her own voice, and she will decide what is said. Be assured that the Daughters will not allow any harm to befall their friends.'
'And are we friends?' Beren said.
'That's what this gathering will determine.'
Beren stopped, and Toli stepped between the ambassador and the giant. 'Let me make one thing clear,' Beren said. 'I am the voice of Breland in this place-your nearest neighbor and the mightiest of the Five Nations of Galifar. I am cousin to King Boranel, and I have fought at his side on the field of battle. Should anything happen to me, there will be dire consequences. Your gnolls knew to keep me alive, and I'm sure that you have the same orders. So don't play games with me, Drul Kantar. I have come here as a favor to your queens, to listen to their plea. We may stand in your castle, but don't think to threaten me. My death would cost you dearly.'
The oni stared at Beren, and Thorn felt a faint charge in the air… magical power? Then he grinned, and the energy faded. The grin turned into a deep belly laugh. He raised a hand to Toli, whose sword was half-drawn from its scabbard. Thorn realized that she'd already drawn Steel, hiding the blade against her arm.
'Your lord is wise,' Kantar said. 'Sheathe your weapon, guardian. Yes, we seek the favor of all nations, but Breland is our neighbor and the foe we have fought before, and it is you we most hope to befriend. You are safe here, Beren ir'Wynarn. Enjoy our hospitality, and sleep soundly this night.'
Beren gave a curt nod, and they began walking again. Thorn smiled. With the nerve to face down a giant, he'd be just fine without an aide.
The Daughters had spared no effort on the evening's feast. The hall was a spectacle of colors and sound, an overwhelming sight after the dull stone walls of the rest of the Crag. Sparks of golden light floated in the air, fey flames that drifted just beyond the reach of guests. A team of goblins darted around a central fire pit, preparing and distributing food. After a week of eating rabbits, the rich aroma of spiced meats and vegetables set Thorn's mouth watering. Tribex, gorgon, some sort of crustacean the size of a warhorse-there was enough food for an army, and it smelled delicious.
Long tables were set with Riedran crysteel, plates and goblets with the beauty of carved glass but the strength of iron. Music echoed through the hall, the work of a band of goblins in the far corner. The little creatures were producing a frenzied song on pipes, drums, and lute. A dancer accompanied them. Her skin was jet back, and as Thorn watched, flames seemed to dart across her flesh.
Skindancer, Steel whispered. Most changelings use their gifts to impersonate other living creatures, but when you can alter your body, there are many other possibilities.
The skindancer spun in place, and her hair flowed out from her body, taking on a brilliant red hue as it did, as if a cloud of fire had suddenly burst around her. The woman spun faster and faster as the music built to its climax. On the final note, her hair shifted to black and spun in toward her. From a distance, Thorn wasn't certain the woman was wearing clothes; it seemed that she had just painted patterns on her skin.
'We have changelings in Breland-why haven't I seen that before?' she murmured.
Because the changelings of the Five Nations hide their abilities. You know how they're treated, with suspicion and distrust. In a land with harpies and medusas, a shapeshifter isn't so strange. I'd imagine the changelings of Droaam have more opportunities to explore the full extent of their powers.
But as fascinating as it was, the dancer was just one part of the wild celebration. Tiny gargoyles darted around the curved ceiling, tossing spheres of glowing glass in a display of juggling and acrobatics. Around her, delegates spoke with the lords of Droaam. A Mror dwarf dressed in black and gold roared with laughter at the words of an armored minotaur, and Lord Beren was speaking with a woman dressed in flowing robes of white silk with bronzed leather. No… as Thorn took in the scene, she realized that the leather was the woman's skin. The living mane that roiled around her shoulders confirmed it. This was a medusa, perhaps the very one Thorn sought. She faced Beren. Clearly, something was blocking her deadly gaze, or there'd be a statue in Beren's place. Again, Thorn was impressed with Beren. Regardless of the setting, it took courage to stare into the face of a medusa.
This sight was enough to shake Thorn out of her reverie. The celebration was a remarkable and overwhelming event, but she had work to do. She had two missions, and she didn't expect to find Harryn Stormblade at this party.
Drul Kantar had said that the Daughters of Sora Kell had called the most powerful warlords of the land to the Crag. Based on the encounter at Korlaak Pass, either some of the warlords had their own plans for Droaam and its relations with the east, or the Daughters were playing a game even their soldiers weren't aware of. Tonight would be her first chance to study the lords of Droaam.
A goblin passed by with a tray of marinated meat on skewers. Thorn grabbed one of the treats as the servant went past. Perhaps it was just her hunger, but the meat was one of the most delicious things she'd tasted; juicy, perfectly spiced, with an exotic flavor she couldn't identify. It wasn't until she reached the end of the skewer that she noticed the small skull wedged down at the base-charred and blackened, but still distinctly humanoid. Pixie kabobs? she wondered. Her gorge rose, and she was half-inclined to let it. Surely they wouldn't serve intelligent creatures as food. She noticed a gnoll licking his jaws, two of the skewers in his hand. She resolved to stick to the tribex.
'Good evening, Lady Tam.' The face was familiar, but the voice was a surprise. It was Minister Luala, the Thrane envoy. She spoke softly, but somehow Thorn could hear every word. Drego Sarhain stood just behind her, with the shadow of a smirk on his face. 'Now that I am able, I wish to thank you for your conduct and company on our journey.'
'I just played the hand I was dealt, minister.'
'Nonetheless, your kindness was appreciated… especially in comparison to your comrade in arms.' Her eyes flickered to where Lord Beren and his bodyguard were speaking to another oni.
'If you mean Toli, I'd be happy to let that subject drop, minister. I'm a diplomat. I choose my words with more care than my companions. But Toli lost friends and family to Thrane soldiers. Personally, I think it's a testament to his restraint that words were all that were exchanged.'
The minister looked crestfallen. 'I had hoped that we could heal the wounds between our nations-just as I sought to restore Toli to health.'
'If you want to magically mend the damage, try raising the dead of Vathirond and Shadukar.'
Drego stepped forward. 'And what of the Thranes slain by Brelish soldiers? Our nations rose together when the Last War began. Are you somehow placing the blame on Thrane's shoulders alone?'
'Not at all,' Thorn said. She sighed. She appreciated what Luala was trying to do, but she understood Toli's anger. 'I wasn't asking for forgiveness. I don't expect your people to forget the deaths of those they loved in the space of a few years. I know mine won't. I appreciate your thoughts, Minister Luala. Perhaps a time will come when our wounds can be healed. But right now, we're here for Droaam. I suggest that you don't try to take on too many challenges.'
'Wise advice.' A woman's voice, low and husky.
The newcomer stood directly behind the Thrane soldier accompanying Drego and Luala. The bodyguard started in surprise and reached for his weapon, but the stranger caught his wrist in one hand and his neck in the other, pinning him in place.
'Don't,' she said, addressing Drego and Thorn as much as her prisoner. 'I've been told not to kill you, but no
