mustache. Just as Daine was about to step between the two, the gardener grunted “She’s expecting you.” Despite his small size, his voice was a resonant baritone. The flowers shivered and dissolved, revealing a staircase dropping down into darkness.
Jode smiled. “After you,” he said to Daine.
T he stone steps led down into a dark hall. It might have been a towering hallway for a gnome, but Daine had to duck to keep from striking his head against the ceiling. Once Jode had joined him, the illusionary garden shimmered back into place, leaving them isolated in full darkness.
“You found out about all of this in one morning?” Daine said, using one hand to feel his way along the stone wall.
“I’ve dealt with gnomes before,” Jode said. “Once I heard Alina was in Sharn, it was just a matter of dropping the right names, passing a few coins to the right people. Spend a few months in Zilargo, you’ll learn how it works. If you survive.”
“I didn’t know you’d been to Zilargo.” Daine had never seen the homeland of the gnomes.
“Scary place, my friend. Like a poisonous flower.”
The hallway was quite short, and within a few moments Daine came up against a stone wall. There was a loud
click
and the stone shifted forward, revealing the well lit chamber that lay beyond. Daine stepped through the doorway and stood up. The ceilings were just high enough for him to stand without crouching.
The room was an unusual sight. It was a square chamber, and each wall was about twenty feet long. A large, circular firepit dominated the center of the room, but instead of coals it was filled with amethyst crystals. Violet flames danced above thepit, and a pleasant, flowery smell filled the air. An assortment of chairs and couches ringed the pit, and while most were sized for gnomes there were a few built to human scale. One divan seemed to have been designed for an ogre, though Daine couldn’t see how an ogre would fit through the entry hall. But the most disorienting aspect of the room was the mirrors. Three of the walls were entirely covered with mirrors, creating a dizzying sense of space. The fourth wall was a single window looking out off of the edge of the tower—a bird’s eye view of the Dagger River and the land surrounding Sharn, with only a window and a few wisps of cloud between them and the cliffs thousands of feet below.
There were no obvious doors, no shelves or chests. Aside from the chairs spread around the firepit, the only objects in the room were a set of intricate birdcages set against the wall across from the window. There were six cages, each made from half a dozen different precious metals woven together and studded with gems. As beautiful as the cages were, they were overshadowed by the exotic birds contained within. Daine had never seen their like. He was no druid, but he guessed that they were from lands beyond Khorvaire—the jungles of Aerenal, perhaps, or the distant plains of Sarlona. Curiously, the birds were completely silent; they watched the intruders carefully but didn’t make a sound or rustle a feather.
Then he realized. He could see the birds in the mirror, but …
“The mirrors … where are
our
reflections?”
“I don’t think they’re mirrors, Daine. If I recall correctly, we’re on the wrong side of the tower for a view of the Dagger.”
“Illusions?”
“That’s my guess. I’ll bet these images can be adjusted on demand.” Jode studied the window. “The real question is—is this actually what’s going on above the Dagger right now? Or is it all imagination?”
“That’s what keeps it interesting, isn’t it?”
It was a woman’s voice, low and rough, but with a lilting, lyrical cadence. It had been a long time since Daine had heard that voice, but it wasn’t something you forgot. Alina LorridanLyrris was one of the most beautiful women Daine had ever seen—for all that she was only three feet tall. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown of white
Jode smiled. “After you,” he said to Daine.
T he stone steps led down into a dark hall. It might have been a towering hallway for a gnome, but Daine had to duck to keep from striking his head against the ceiling. Once Jode had joined him, the illusionary garden shimmered back into place, leaving them isolated in full darkness.
“You found out about all of this in one morning?” Daine said, using one hand to feel his way along the stone wall.
“I’ve dealt with gnomes before,” Jode said. “Once I heard Alina was in Sharn, it was just a matter of dropping the right names, passing a few coins to the right people. Spend a few months in Zilargo, you’ll learn how it works. If you survive.”
“I didn’t know you’d been to Zilargo.” Daine had never seen the homeland of the gnomes.
“Scary place, my friend. Like a poisonous flower.”
The hallway was quite short, and within a few moments Daine came up against a stone wall. There was a loud
click
and the stone shifted forward, revealing the well lit chamber that lay beyond. Daine stepped through the doorway and stood up. The ceilings were just high enough for him to stand without crouching.
The room was an unusual sight. It was a square chamber, and each wall was about twenty feet long. A large, circular firepit dominated the center of the room, but instead of coals it was filled with amethyst crystals. Violet flames danced above thepit, and a pleasant, flowery smell filled the air. An assortment of chairs and couches ringed the pit, and while most were sized for gnomes there were a few built to human scale. One divan seemed to have been designed for an ogre, though Daine couldn’t see how an ogre would fit through the entry hall. But the most disorienting aspect of the room was the mirrors. Three of the walls were entirely covered with mirrors, creating a dizzying sense of space. The fourth wall was a single window looking out off of the edge of the tower—a bird’s eye view of the Dagger River and the land surrounding Sharn, with only a window and a few wisps of cloud between them and the cliffs thousands of feet below.
There were no obvious doors, no shelves or chests. Aside from the chairs spread around the firepit, the only objects in the room were a set of intricate birdcages set against the wall across from the window. There were six cages, each made from half a dozen different precious metals woven together and studded with gems. As beautiful as the cages were, they were overshadowed by the exotic birds contained within. Daine had never seen their like. He was no druid, but he guessed that they were from lands beyond Khorvaire—the jungles of Aerenal, perhaps, or the distant plains of Sarlona. Curiously, the birds were completely silent; they watched the intruders carefully but didn’t make a sound or rustle a feather.
Then he realized. He could see the birds in the mirror, but …
“The mirrors … where are
our
reflections?”
“I don’t think they’re mirrors, Daine. If I recall correctly, we’re on the wrong side of the tower for a view of the Dagger.”
“Illusions?”
“That’s my guess. I’ll bet these images can be adjusted on demand.” Jode studied the window. “The real question is—is this actually what’s going on above the Dagger right now? Or is it all imagination?”
“That’s what keeps it interesting, isn’t it?”
It was a woman’s voice, low and rough, but with a lilting, lyrical cadence. It had been a long time since Daine had heard that voice, but it wasn’t something you forgot. Alina LorridanLyrris was one of the most beautiful women Daine had ever seen—for all that she was only three feet tall. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown of white
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