Unbroken Chain

broken. He dragged his boots and nearly stumbled twice before he got to them. Skagi laughed derisively.

“Have you been in Tatigan’s wine, Vedoran?” he said. “No wonder you’re late.”

“I’m fine,” Vedoran said tersely. He walked past Skagi to greet Tatigan. “I apologize for my lateness,” he said. “We can leave anytime you’re ready.” He glanced briefly at Ashok. “Lead on,” he said.

Ashok noticed Vedoran’s hands shaking. He’d steadied his walk, but it was an effort, Ashok thought. As the group gathered together, Ashok walked past Vedoran, but smelled no strong drink on his breath. His hair was slightly askew from its tail, and his skin was paler than normal, but in all other respects he seemed in control of himself.

Skagi called him to the front of the group, and Ashok had no more time to wonder about Vedoran’s condition.

“Time to lead us through the Veil,” Skagi said and nodded to the arch.

Ashok looked at the bare canyon wall. He glanced at Skagi and the rest, but they were waiting on him. Even Vedoran accepted his new role as leader without comment or conflict. Ashok found that a jest indeed, since he had no idea where he was going.

“But I go,” he murmured to himself, and stepped forward until his nose was almost touching the stone. He smelled earth and something faintly electric, like contained lightning, and underneath them both dampness. He closed his eyes and took the last step forward.

His body passed through the wall, and Ashok felt a breath of wind blow his hair back, like the air currents between doors. The electricity hummed along his skin and then was gone. The air turned to damp, and there was a smell of moss everywhere.

Ashok opened his eyes, looked around, and was engulfed by a sudden vertigo that made him stumble back a step.

Hands on his shoulders steadied him, and Ashok looked back to see Ilvani behind him. She had to reach above her head to touch his shoulders.

“What is this?” Ashok asked her. “I don’t understand.”

“You passed through the Veil,” Ilvani said. “Everything here is real, even if your eyes say no. The eyes always say no, but they lie.”

Ashok tried to get his breath, but his senses were still awry. The city before him was obviously Ikemmu, except that everything was wrong.

Before him there were the four towers whose summits nearly brushed the top of the cavern-the trade districts and Makthar with its thundering waterfall, and Athanon with its fence. But the towers on the far side of the Veil were smaller than those on the other, with fewer of the archways for teleportation.

The people Ashok saw coming and going from the trade districts were almost all human, dwarven, or one of the other races. He saw one shadar-kai for every two dozen other races. The trade district was much larger and more built up on that side of the city as well. The buildings were newer, constructed in the last ten years, Ashok thought. Much of the debris that cluttered the roadways on the other side of the Veil was missing.

“Two faces for one city,” Ashok said.

Tatigan stepped through the Veil with the others. Ashok hadn’t realized that he and Ilvani had been the only ones to cross for several breaths.

Skagi said, “Surprised?”

“I had no idea,” Ashok said. He nearly laughed aloud at his feeble plans when he’d first arrived in Ikemmu, of his enclave ever having a chance to attack the city. “How many people live here?” he asked.

“Roughly eight thousand souls,” Tatigan said before anyone else could answer. “But that’s not counting the traders and planewalkers that come through here every day. Most of them only ever see this side of the city.”

“Where is this side of the city?” Ashok said. “Are we below where we were before?”

Tatigan chuckled. “Prepare to be dizzy, lad,” he said. We’re in exactly the same spot we were before. We haven’t gone anywhere at all.”

“I don’t understand,” Ashok said.

“We’re in the Underdark,” Tatigan said. “Specifically, this place is known as the Ramparts of Night. We crossed from the shadow world to the thing that cast the shadow. Right now we’re below the world of Faerun, my home.”

Cree laughed. “Tatigan has made a study of Ikemmu’s geography,” he said. “He’ll go on for days if you let him.”

“Someone has to chronicle the marvels you take for granted,” Tatigan said. “Your city exists in two worlds simultaneously, and you don’t think that’s something to respect?”

Skagi shrugged. “Means we can be attacked on two fronts. That’s why only certain people get to cross to the Shadowfell side,” he explained to Ashok. “Only permanent residents get to go there.”

“They trade comfort for security,” Tatigan said. “The other races have worked hard to restore the Underdark side of the city, but the Shadowfell side is the point of refuge in the event of an invasion.”

“And this?” Ashok said, nodding to the bustling market. “This is the true trade district?”

“Where all the coin is made,” Tatigan said. “You can smell it in the air.”

“We’re wasting time,” Vedoran said, speaking up. He’d been so quiet Ashok was startled to hear his voice. “Tatigan, if you please.”

“I do please,” Tatigan said, sniffing. He fell into step beside Ashok. “I’m writing a memoir about the city. There is a path that we’ll take up to the surface and then you’ll tell me, you who have never seen the colored world like this”-he poked his green lenses-“if this city is not a wonder. I wager you won’t be able to say it.”

“I wouldn’t make the wager,” Ashok said as they started off into the mirror city. He glanced at Ilvani. “The wonders in this city are limitless.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The trip through the city was agony for Vedoran. He crawled the walls of his mind, seeking peace, but there was nothing except the memory of the last day and how it had gone so horribly wrong.

I will not see you again until the thing has been set in motion, the Beshaban cleric had warned him. Had he known what that meant?

Vedoran had gone to see Natan at Makthar. The cleric had been willing and, Vedoran thought, eager to speak to him about the successful mission and his sister.

They stood in the main chapel, and Natan dismissed the guard so they could speak in private.

“I’m glad you’ve given me this opportunity to thank you for your role in my sister’s rescue,” Natan said. “Your leadership brought your party back safely. Uwan and I both recognize your potential to serve this city. We won’t forget what you have done.”

Vedoran clasped his hands behind his back and said formally, “Thank you for your words, and my thanks in turn to Lord Uwan. But I’m well aware that the gratitude of Ikemmu extends only so far. You need not pretend otherwise.”

Natan’s face clouded. “No pretense, I assure you,” he said. I’m aware that you place your faith in yourself, Vedoran, and not in the gods, but you may not always feel this way. Surely, you can keep yourself open to the destiny Tempus may have planned for you. You can’t deny that He is at work here in our lives.”

“I recognize that He is at work in some lives,” Vedoran said. He walked up a set of steps leading to the altar and Tempus’s sword carved into the wall. The candles on the altar were warm on his face.

“You mean Ashok?” Natan said as he joined him and sat on the steps. His informality made Vedoran uncomfortable, though he could not say why. Perhaps it was because he’d expected Natan to condemn him with the righteous love of Tempus. But the cleric looked, if anything, extraordinarily weary, aged beyond his years. He was too weak to lecture anyone overmuch on faith, Vedoran thought. Uwan is the strength of the pair.

“You and Uwan have chosen Ashok as Tempus’s emissary,” Vedoran said. “A stranger, with no connection to this city and no love for its people. How can you trust such a person to carry your god’s message?”

“Because Tempus spoke to me,” Natan said. “My vision was proved true. Ashok is no longer a stranger.”