on.” Her voice was steel.
How much did she know already? When had Kelas spoken to her last? “The Dragon Forge is destroyed.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“As soon as the queen departed, we came under attack.”
“The dragon king? Or the excoriate?”
Aunn almost blamed the dragon king, because Malathar was already dead. But too many people knew the truth—if Nara got a report from anyone else who was there, she would know he’d deceived her. “The excoriate,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on her.
“Damn it, Kelas! I told you to kill him quickly! I warned you not to let the Thuranni toy with him like that! Is he still alive? Is he free?”
He had paraded Gaven through the Cannith enclave that evening—Jorlanna would certainly know by morning that Gaven was in his custody. “I have him here with me. He’s in a stupor. As he destroyed the forge, he shattered the dragonshard that held his mark, and it seems to have shattered his mind.”
“He destroyed the dragonshard?” Her voice was a gasp, as if the news had been a physical blow to her gut.
“Yes.” Aunn felt confident in that lie—no one but Cart, Ashara, and the kalashtar could tell her otherwise. And he didn’t want her to come looking for the shard, or order him to bring it to her.
“His mark—it hasn’t returned to his skin, has it?”
Aunn glanced at Gaven, who was staring into the dragonshard again. The lines of the Mark of Storm still coiled within the rosy stone. Gaven’s skin was still red where his mark had been. It looked tender.
“No, there’s no sign of it.”
“Twelve moons,” she said. “So we have no Storm Dragon. But he has a few verses yet to fulfill.” Nara tapped a finger to her lips. “Damn it, Kelas. I’ve been planning this for a very long time. You know I don’t like surprises like this. We’ll survive the loss of the Dragon Forge—it has played its part in the Prophecy—but without the Storm Dragon, what happens to the Blasphemer?”
“The barbarians,” Aunn blurted. Kelas had been counting on the Dragon Forge to stop their advance through the Eldeen Reaches—or so he’d said.“Without the forge—we have to find a way to stop them.”
“Stop them?” Nara chuckled. “And undo all of your dear changeling’s hard work? ‘The Blasphemer’s end lies in the void, in the maelstrom that pulls him down to darkness.’ You’re teasing me … Kelas.” Her eyes grew hard as she said his name.
Aunn swallowed. He had to convince her he’d been joking, allay whatever suspicion had just formed in her mind. “Of course I am. I neglected to tell you that my changeling also returned to the Dragon Forge with Gaven, panicked about the onrushing barbarians.” He saw Nara’s eyebrow rise and a smile play at one corner of her mouth—good signs. “He did not survive the attack.”
“Excellent,” Nara said, chuckling. “Still, it says a great deal that he survived as long as he did. He could have been a tremendous asset.”
“Where did I go wrong with him?”
“You were always too quick to punish him, Kelas. You made him hate you. He was always loyal, but to the crown, to his work, not to you. Did he try to kill you in the end?”
“He did.” Aunn was amazed—Nara’s words echoed many of his own thoughts of the last months.
“So you were forced to kill him. That must have been difficult for you.”
“No.” That was a slip—he’d answered from his own perspective, not Kelas’s. Was that the right answer?
Nara laughed. “Well, some of my lessons stuck at least. I must say, Kelas, I was growing worried that you were too attached to him, just as he clearly cared too much about you.”
What had Kelas thought about him? “He was extremely useful.”
“He was, and his last mission was his greatest. The Blasphemer rises.” Something shone in her eyes for an instant, then they turned back to steel. “So why did you flee to Fairhaven? Who’s in command at the forge, or what’s left
How much did she know already? When had Kelas spoken to her last? “The Dragon Forge is destroyed.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“As soon as the queen departed, we came under attack.”
“The dragon king? Or the excoriate?”
Aunn almost blamed the dragon king, because Malathar was already dead. But too many people knew the truth—if Nara got a report from anyone else who was there, she would know he’d deceived her. “The excoriate,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on her.
“Damn it, Kelas! I told you to kill him quickly! I warned you not to let the Thuranni toy with him like that! Is he still alive? Is he free?”
He had paraded Gaven through the Cannith enclave that evening—Jorlanna would certainly know by morning that Gaven was in his custody. “I have him here with me. He’s in a stupor. As he destroyed the forge, he shattered the dragonshard that held his mark, and it seems to have shattered his mind.”
“He destroyed the dragonshard?” Her voice was a gasp, as if the news had been a physical blow to her gut.
“Yes.” Aunn felt confident in that lie—no one but Cart, Ashara, and the kalashtar could tell her otherwise. And he didn’t want her to come looking for the shard, or order him to bring it to her.
“His mark—it hasn’t returned to his skin, has it?”
Aunn glanced at Gaven, who was staring into the dragonshard again. The lines of the Mark of Storm still coiled within the rosy stone. Gaven’s skin was still red where his mark had been. It looked tender.
“No, there’s no sign of it.”
“Twelve moons,” she said. “So we have no Storm Dragon. But he has a few verses yet to fulfill.” Nara tapped a finger to her lips. “Damn it, Kelas. I’ve been planning this for a very long time. You know I don’t like surprises like this. We’ll survive the loss of the Dragon Forge—it has played its part in the Prophecy—but without the Storm Dragon, what happens to the Blasphemer?”
“The barbarians,” Aunn blurted. Kelas had been counting on the Dragon Forge to stop their advance through the Eldeen Reaches—or so he’d said.“Without the forge—we have to find a way to stop them.”
“Stop them?” Nara chuckled. “And undo all of your dear changeling’s hard work? ‘The Blasphemer’s end lies in the void, in the maelstrom that pulls him down to darkness.’ You’re teasing me … Kelas.” Her eyes grew hard as she said his name.
Aunn swallowed. He had to convince her he’d been joking, allay whatever suspicion had just formed in her mind. “Of course I am. I neglected to tell you that my changeling also returned to the Dragon Forge with Gaven, panicked about the onrushing barbarians.” He saw Nara’s eyebrow rise and a smile play at one corner of her mouth—good signs. “He did not survive the attack.”
“Excellent,” Nara said, chuckling. “Still, it says a great deal that he survived as long as he did. He could have been a tremendous asset.”
“Where did I go wrong with him?”
“You were always too quick to punish him, Kelas. You made him hate you. He was always loyal, but to the crown, to his work, not to you. Did he try to kill you in the end?”
“He did.” Aunn was amazed—Nara’s words echoed many of his own thoughts of the last months.
“So you were forced to kill him. That must have been difficult for you.”
“No.” That was a slip—he’d answered from his own perspective, not Kelas’s. Was that the right answer?
Nara laughed. “Well, some of my lessons stuck at least. I must say, Kelas, I was growing worried that you were too attached to him, just as he clearly cared too much about you.”
What had Kelas thought about him? “He was extremely useful.”
“He was, and his last mission was his greatest. The Blasphemer rises.” Something shone in her eyes for an instant, then they turned back to steel. “So why did you flee to Fairhaven? Who’s in command at the forge, or what’s left
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