“There are four. One lies in the eastern section of Chandrar, Germina. Another lies south-west. A’ctelios Salash, our destination. Another further west. Qualvekkaras.”
“Germina, Merreid, Qualvekkaras, and A’ctelios Salash. We go to A’ctelios, but the leaders of Merreid and Qualvekkaras will meet us there. Each Shield Kingdom is different, Trey Atwood. But what makes them unique is a common feature. They were all founded with the intent to stand forever. Khelt may have well been one had it existed in that time—perhaps the Shield Kingdoms will grow if it endures another millennia. Perhaps. But what binds us from that age is—”
“A’ctelios Salash? The Tomb-Dwellers trusted no one thing or person or creation. They simply trusted that they had killed worse than Dragons. We head there now, and it will be easier to see than explain. I caution you before we enter: eat nothing within the city save that you bring in. To be safe, eat nothing at all. Drink nothing. Is that clear?”
“We shall arrive the day after tomorrow. We shall camp early tomorrow, arrive at dawn. When we do—I have little fear you will give offense. It is hard to offend those in A’ctelios Salash, even should you scorn everything offered. But it was a risk, bringing you and Pathseeker here. One your [King] is willing to take. And I must meet my fellow Shield Kingdoms. However, I fear for you more than Pathseeker, Atwood.”
As promised, they reached A’ctelios Salash on the fourth day, after sleeping a night on the ground on the third. That was a relief to Trey, because despite the more easy company of Gazi and the Quarass, their close proximity began to wear on each other.
Who would do such a thing? Trey shuddered. He wanted to be sick, or faint. The Quarass spoke levelly, but even she did not stare long at A’ctelios Salash.
“In an age before the Dragons ruled, something came from beyond the edge of the world. It must have destroyed nations. But here it fell. And A’ctelios Salash was the nation that sprang from its corpse. Even when Dragons ruled, they did not take this place. And the people of A’ctelios first sheltered in its eyes. Then, over millennia, dug deeper.”
“It’s brain is hollow, Trey. I have lived countless lifetimes and visited A’ctelios Salash countless thousands of instances. Each time it is deeper. They hollowed the eyes first, then the head. Now they dig lower. It is dead; nothing lives. It is true the flesh does not rot, but then—neither does Dragonflesh. It is made of magic and time and it is disturbing. But you will be safe with me.”
The Quarass looked back. And the two dozen people of A’ctelios Salash shifted as Gazi’s song reached them. Trey heard laughter, and it was blessedly normal. Almost merry. He heard someone raise his voice in reply.
Not like the people of Ger, who wore freeing clothing. This was a pale group, who lived without sunlight. Not without light, for there was plenty of it in this place. Trey realized the whitish substance they’d walked on was responsible for the glow. Inside, the city of A’ctelios Salash was less bright, and mortal fire or magic lit things.
