passage. The ceiling was low, though. Ashi could have reached up and scraped it with the tip of her newly acquired knife. It made the cavern feel much smaller than it really was, crushed by the weight of the mountains above.
More disturbing than the low ceiling, however, were the symbols that spread across the rock. They were on the ceiling, the walls, and the floor-dozens of them, each an armslength across and shining with a greenish light that gave a soft glow to the entire cavern. Seen from the corner of her eye, they almost seemed to move, but looked at directly they were steady and unchanging. In a way, they resembled dragonmarks. Her stomach churning, Ashi stretched out her hand and looked from the marks on the wall to the marks on her skin. The strange light made her blue-green mark look as black as darkness, yet also weirdly bright and reflective. She let her hand fall with a shudder.
“There are seven caves in the north of the Seawall Mountains,” Ekhaas said, standing beside her and staring in fascination, “that are said to look like this, save that the signs move and spell out the future for those who know how to read them.”
“Do those caves have occupants?” asked Chetiin quietly. “Look here.”
They turned. Partway across the chamber, a strange rock formation stuck up from the floor. Chetiin and Geth were on the other side of it, staring. Geth still held Wrath, but loosely, and the purple of the byeshk blade gleamed through the green glow. Ashi went to join them. As she drew closer, she realized the formation wasn’t rock at all, but wood and cloth-a heavy chair draped with fabric. And as she passed around the chair, she realized that it wasn’t empty.
A hobgoblin, or what was left of him, sat in it. The body was wizened, orange-tinged flesh wrinkled and dry like a withered pumpkin, but the hobgoblin’s face was calm and his eyes closed. The cave’s air-or perhaps its strange power-must have mummified him upon his death. The garments of a larger man were draped around his skeletal frame. Ashi had never seen anything quite like them in style, but the fabric was fine and dyed with rich colors of gold and red. His hair, longer than she’d ever seen a male hobgoblin wear it and held back by a wide band of gold, was still thick and dark. He hadn’t been old when he died. His feet were raised on a small stool that was as heavy as the chair. His hands, covered in gloves studded with gems, rested in his lap.
They were wrapped around a purple rod of byeshk, as long as her forearm and as thick as her wrist, its polished surface carved with strange symbols.
Ekhaas drew a deep, slow breath. “The story stops but never ends,” she said solemnly in Goblin. “Guulen, the Rod of Kings, is found again, and the fate of Dabrak Riis, the Shaking Emperor, is known at last.”
“Taat,” rasped the hobgoblin on the throne. Red-brown eyes opened to glare at Ekhaas and lips drew back from sharp, white teeth. “I am Dabrak Riis, but I shake no more! Bow before your emperor!”
Ekhaas jerked back.
Ashi heard Geth curse. She saw Chetiin and Dagii raise their weapons and step back as well. She didn’t step back. With reflexes honed in the practice yards of Sentinel Tower, she snatched the long knife from her belt and lunged forward, thrusting the blade straight into the seated hobgoblin’s heart. His eyes opened wide in shock-
— then he shoved her away with a strength that sent her flying into the cavern wall.
Ashi pushed herself up and stared as Dabrak Riis, Emperor of Dhakaan, tugged the knife out of his chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
For a terrifying moment, Ashi thought he would hurl the knife at her. She rolled to her feet, ready to dodge, but the withered hobgoblin’s arm didn’t move. Dabrak Riis held the knife up in front of his face and studied it. Ears rose, so dried and leathery they resembled the wings of bats.
“I know this knife,” he said. “It belonged to Rhazala Shaad. What have you done with her, assassin?”
Ashi hesitated, not certain how to answer. It was hard to understand the Goblin that Dabrak Riis spoke. The accent was odd and seemed strangely stilted. Was that how the goblins of the Dhakaani Empire had spoken? She threw a glance at Ekhaas, a silent appeal for instruction, but before the duur’kala could speak, Dabrak’s eyes had moved from the knife back to her. They narrowed sharply.
“By the Lawbringer, what manner of creature are you?” he asked. “You’re not dar, and you’re not elf.” He looked around at the others. “Ghaal’dar and golin’dar”-he paused to stare at Midian and his dry lips twisted in disgust-“and one of the jungle rats, dressed like a person.”
The gnome looked like anger might overcome his shock at being addressed by a corpse, but Dabrak’s gaze had already moved on to settle on Geth. His ears stood, and his eyes widened. “You… whatever you are… that’s Aram!” he sputtered. “You carry the lost sword!”
Geth bared his teeth and lifted the twilight blade. “I found it,” he said, his Goblin thick and simple compared to the emperor’s. “I carry it. It led us to you.”
“Another assassin? Are all of you assassins?” He swept his eyes across them all once more-then put his head back and laughed. “If you have come to kill me, you’ll find it more difficult than you thought!” He dropped Ashi’s knife to the floor of the cavern and plucked at his garments, pulling the cloth out tight where she had stabbed him.
The fabric was whole. There was not a tear, not even a mark. It was as if she hadn’t attacked him at all. Ashi stared in amazement.
“You’re Dabrak Riis?” said Midian. “You’re really Dabrak Riis? Sage’s shadow, how is that possible?”
The amusement in Dabrak’s face vanished. He looked first to Ekhaas, then to Dagii. “To which of you does that creature belong? Silence it. I will not hear its screechings.”
“Your pardon, Marhu Dabrak,” Ekhaas said quickly. “It will not speak again.” She stepped forward and dropped to her knees, gesturing for the others to do the same. It seemed like a very good idea to Ashi, and she sank down. They all did, even Midian. Dabrak sat back with satisfaction on his face. Ekhaas looked up at him and said, “We’re not assassins, marhu. We just didn’t expect to”-she hesitated, then added-“find you still alive.”
At any other time, in any other place, Ashi might have laughed at the understatement. How could Dabrak still be alive? The Empire of Dhakaan had been gone from the world for more than five thousand years. Dabrak couldn’t just have been sitting in the cavern all that time-could he?
He only nodded in response. “So that much time has passed,” he said. “The world thinks me dead. I suspected as much.”
Ekhaas looked startled. “You know that time has passed?”
“Of course I know.” He gestured at the cavern around them. “I may not feel it here, but before they abandoned me, Razhala and my other guards would go out through the shrine and report on the passing of the seasons.” He sighed. “They didn’t have the strength to stay, though. One by one, they left me-faithful Razhala was the last. But eventually the trolls came. They have been my guards.”
“The trolls are your guards?” said Dagii.
“You encountered them, didn’t you, warrior?” Dabrak looked pleased. “They were wild things when they came, but I tamed them. The smallest of them entered the shrine and ventured in here. It was a challenge to work with them, but I had the power to mold them.”
He lifted the Rod of Kings and it seemed to Ashi that even that simple gesture carried with it a swirl of power. For a frightening moment, it seemed that Dabrak wore authority like a cloak-then the cloak vanished as the rod settled back into his lap. “I still feel a distant connection to them,” the emperor said, as if the display of power was something so casual he barely even noticed it. “I know their pack still watches over the Uura Odaarii. You must be mighty indeed to have passed them.”
Ashi could tell from the faces of the others that they had felt the rod’s power as well. Dagii seemed awed by it, Chetiin stunned. Midian looked gray with fear. She felt a little bit afraid herself. This was the power they would bring back to Haruuc?
Ekhaas struggled to speak again. “The Uura Odaarii, marhu?” she asked. “Is that this place?”
Ashi didn’t recognize the words. Chetiin was closest to her, and she glanced at him. “The Womb of Eternity,” he translated for her.
Dabrak’s attention was all on Ashi. “You haven’t heard of it. I’m not surprised. I traveled across the length and breadth of my empire just chasing down the rumors of it,” he said. He sat forward, the movement making the
