Free The Dark Queen by Michael Williams

rise,” she continued,
     absently stroking the glowing drumhead, “Fordus stopped and leaned against a smooth,
     upright stone. Stormlight and Northstar were a step behind him, as always. ”Overhead the
     white moon sailed serenely out of the clouds, and suddenly the entire desert stretched
     before them, desolate and featureless as the face of that moon. Salt crystals dotted the
     arid landscape, catching the moonlight like blades, like slivers of glass. "Salt and
     stone, but no water.
    “This was south of here, in old country indeed. The ground they stood on once formed the
     north- ernmost borders of Silvanesti, back in the Age of Light. 'Twas woodland until the
     Second Dragon War, when Lady Chaos laid waste to the Elflands. Now it is rubble and salt,
     salt and rubble.” Tamex said nothing. The two of them sat in silence, there in the bed of
     the dried-up river.
    “Elf country,” Larken continued, her thoughts haunted by the prospect of such devastation.
     “Druid's country. And then .. .” Tamex stirred restlessly. “I know. I know. The Dragon
     Wars. But what of Fordus?” “Fordus? Oh, yes. That was the night he found the kanaji.”
    “Kanaji?” “A druidic oracle pit. I first saw them near Silvan-ost, on the banks of the
     Thon-Thalas. Wide declivities, covered with netting and leaves. The druids descend into
     them to meditate, to ... find enlightenment.” “How? How do they work, these ...” “Kanaji?
     Druidic magic,” the bard answered elu-sively. Something in her shrank from the ardent
     questioning. “Fordus found the pit that evening. He stood upon it, as though it had
     summoned him there. ”Dig they did, hoping beyond their wildest hopes for water. Then the
     three of them knelt together, pulling the heavy stone away. “They found a hollow chamber,
     round, of limestone block, just large enough for two good-sized people to sit in. The
     floor was nothing but fine white sand, which looked as if it had gone undisturbed by wind
     and water for a thousand years. ”Fordus hopped into the circular chamber, Storm-light
     close behind. They examined the gray, gritty walls, the shadowed circumference, while the
     youngest, little Northstar, stood above them in an impatient watch. “Fordus and Stormlight
     sat in the fine sand. They jokedthe nervous, blustering jests of young men in holy places.
     But the ancientness and reverence of the place soon stilled their laughter, and they sat
     in silence as, over the dry expanse of the desert, the chanting of the elders drifted to
     the rise and down into the kanaji pit. ”The lads went still. In the reverence they had
     been taught since infancy, Stormlight and Northstar looked up toward the heavens, toward
     the mobius of Mishakal and the harp of Branchala. “Fordus, on the other hand, looked
     toward the floor of the kanaji. Then, suddenly, as the sand began to ripple and eddy
     beneath him, he glanced up at Stormlight, motioned his friend's gaze to the changing sand,
     to the strange glyphs forming in the pristine whiteness. ” 'Druidic' my cousin Northstar
     told them. 'The picture language of a thousand years past.' “With a whoop, Fordus raced
     across the level expanse toward the fires of the men, leaving his companions agape at the
     emerging symbols. ”Curious, not a little irritated at being disturbed at their ritual, the
     elders were led to the kanaji. Staring down into the pit, all of them noticed the change
     in Fordusthe sea-blue eyes suddenly bright and focused, as though his earlier addling had
     been lifted, the pupils dilated until a core of fathomless dark seemed to rise out of that
     blue sea. “His lips moved slowly. With great effort, as though he were translating the
     hidden language of the gods, he breathed a single syllable, then another.” “Crouched by
     the lip of the kanaji, Racer made the warding sign, protection against the Lady, ”and the
     destruction that follows