CHAPTER
2

Aunn’s mind couldn’t handle making plans yet. Cart cleared away enough of the forge’s debris that he and Ashara could sit on the ground near Gaven, and he started tracing a rough map in the sand. Aunn heard them talking, but his mind couldn’t process their words. His eyes kept wandering to Gaven, to the wreckage of the Dragon Forge all around them, and finally he left them to their planning and wandered away.

The iron dome of the forge was open to the sky, torn asunder and strewn in masses of twisted metal around the canyon. The towering apparatus at the forge’s heart had collapsed into a pile of rubble, half filling the trenches beneath it, scattered plumes of smoke and steam still billowing into the air around it. The camp that had grown around the forge was deserted, and its tents and structures were a shambles, torn up in the fury of Gaven’s storm. The sky was clear and blue, the air perfectly still and warm. The shaft of clear crystal that towered over the end of the canyon, though, had clouded over into blue-gray stone, smooth and hard, only slightly out of place among the other rock formations of the canyon. The sense of malevolence that had spread from it was gone.

What of the Messenger? Aunn had felt its presence, too, like velvet whispers in his mind, reassuring him and guiding him. That feeling was gone as well, and Aunn’s heart felt empty without it. He slid his hand absently into a coat pocket and felt the cool metal of Dania’s torc against his fingers.

He drew out the torc and examined it closely for the first time. When he first brought it to Kelas, he had barely given it a second glance—professionalism, he’d told himself at the time, but the truth was that it hurt to see it. It reminded him of Dania’s death, and pricked at his conscience. When it fell from the surface of the blue crystal prison, he stuffed it into his pocket and moved on to deal with more pressing matters, like finding Gaven. Now he held it up to the sunlight and took in every detail.

It was pure silver coiled into the shape of a serpent, about as thick as his thumb. It was hinged at the back, but the hinge was so well concealed that it seemed like a single piece of metal. Each one of the serpent’s featherlike scales was carefully engraved, and two feathered wings were barely noticeable near the head, held close to the body. The glittering eyes were pools of quicksilver, somehow liquid but firmly rooted in the solid metal head.

Tiny black pockmarks dotted the edge of the torc, where the silver tracery had joined it and siphoned power through it to the Dragon Forge. He ran his thumb along their rough edges. His skin scraping against the metal sounded like the harsh whisper of the Secret Keeper.

The torc had been a gift to Dania—a gift of the spirit that imprisoned a different fiend beneath the earth in a distant place. It had appeared around her neck in a blaze of silver fire. As Aunn held it, it seemed that it had become a gift to him, the Messenger’s acknowledgement of the good he had done. But still marked by evil, much like his own heart. He took a deep breath, pulled open the torc’s hinge, and placed the metal around his neck.

Aunn couldn’t say what he had expected, but what he felt was … nothing. The metal was cool against his skin, but quickly warmed at his touch. It fit him, which was a bit surprising since it had coiled close around Dania’s slender neck. But there was nothing more, no sudden surge of power or great revelation. He ran his hand across the front and considered taking it off, but decided against it. There was a reason for the Messenger’s gift, if that’s what it was, and he would honor the gift and the giver by wearing it.

He turned and looked at Ashara and Cart, still sitting close and talking quietly. They no longer looked at the map on the ground, but at each other, and Aunn looked away, not wanting to intrude on what seemed like an intimate moment. Or would have, if Cart had been a man of flesh and blood. He looked back at them, but the moment—if that’s what it was—had ended, and their faces were turned back to the ground.

Then his eyes fell on Gaven again, still curled into a ball, lost in his own mind. It was time to do something. He walked back to Cart and Ashara and sat down, facing them across the map.

“What is this all about?” he said.

“What?” Ashara’s face was flushed, and her brown eyes glistened.

“All this.” Aunn gestured vaguely around at the wreckage. “The Dragon Forge, House Cannith, the Arcane Congress, the queen. It’s not just about the war, reconquering the Reaches, and it’s more than just seizing power in Aundair, isn’t it?”

“There’s a great deal I don’t understand,” Ashara said, not meeting his eyes.

“It seems we all have fragments of information,” Cart said. “We were all tangled in different parts of the web. Perhaps combining those fragments will give us a better picture of the whole.”

“Exactly,” Aunn said. “So—” He stopped. Cart and Ashara knew nothing about him or his role in Kelas’s plans from the start. His first inclination was to extract information from them, stitch it together with what he knew, and keep them in the dark. To do otherwise could be a deadly breach of security.

But he didn’t care anymore. He drew a slow breath. “So I’ll start,” he said. “I’m a Royal Eye. I’ve worked for Kelas my whole life.” He saw Ashara’s eyes widen, and he had Cart’s full attention. “Kelas sent me to join your expedition to free Haldren and Gaven, and after Starcrag Plain I took Haldren back to Kelas. My main purpose was to bring Haldren around to where he’d help Kelas, instead of trying to seize the throne for himself. That done, Kelas sent me to the west, to the Demon Wastes—I think primarily to get me out of the way while he did whatever he was doing here. To kill me, most likely. But if I also managed to achieve my stated purpose, so much the better.”

“And that purpose …?” Ashara asked.

“To provoke a barbarian warlord into attacking the Eldeen Reaches. Which I did.” He saw in his mind the plume of smoke rising above Maruk Dar, and his voice faltered. “The goal was to give Aundair an excuse to invade the Reaches from the east, ostensibly to protect its own borders from the threat of the barbarians.”

“Which Aundair has now done,” Ashara said. “The war has begun.”

“But they’re not taking the threat seriously,” Aunn said. “Kelas wanted a pretext, but he roused a dragon.” Farren’s words rang in his mind: I want you to make sure that a big enough army meets him soon, before his evil can spread far. Because of Aunn, the Maruk Ghaash’kala had failed in their sacred mission, to confine the evil of the Demon Wastes, to keep it from spreading beyond the Shadowcrags.

“You think the barbarians actually threaten Aundair?” Cart asked.

“I fear that they do.”

Why did he say that? Farren’s foreboding, Marelle’s warnings, the verses of the Prophecy that Gaven had mentioned—Dragons fly before the Blasphemer’s legions. They combined into a sense of impending doom, as though the approach of the barbarian horde spelled the end of the world.

Ashara shook her head. “They’ll never reach the Wynarn, much less cross it and enter Aundair.”

“Kelas was counting on the Dragon Forge to stop them,” Aunn said. “We’ve destroyed that hope.”

“We had to,” Ashara said. “We never should have tapped into the fiend’s power.”

Aunn looked around at the wreckage of the Dragon Forge. “Weapons more terrible than their foe …” he said, and Marelle’s pearl-green eyes shone in his mind. He could almost feel her cool hand on his cheek. “You built it?” he asked Ashara.

Ashara cleared her throat. “My House, the Arcane Congress, and Kelas worked together to construct the Dragon Forge. At first, we—House Cannith—believed that it was simply a new source of magical power, something that would increase our production, create new weapons. Kelas offered it to us in exchange for our support in his attempt on the throne. We were not initially aware of the role that Gaven’s dragonmark would play in the use of the Forge, and we—well, I overlooked the risk of the fiend’s evil corrupting the power.”

“But the Forge was actually a weapon,” Cart said. “It created that storm we saw and sent it toward the Reaches. So Kelas planned to use it against the barbarians?”

“And the Eldeen Reaches would shower praise on their Aundairian liberators,” Aunn said.

“So that’s what the queen was here to see,” Ashara added. “A demonstration of this new weapon Kelas offered her. But why …”

“Why should Kelas offer the Forge to the queen if his goal was to overthrow her?” Aunn said.

Ashara nodded. “Exactly.”

“To win her confidence, her trust. To make Thuel look bad, shown up by one of his underlings.”

“Thuel?” Cart asked.

“Thuel Racannoch,” Aunn said, “the head of the Royal Eyes. Sea of Fire, I’ve just committed treason by telling you that.” He pressed his hands to his temples, trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts. “Why is Jorlanna involved in all this?” He looked at Ashara, who frowned. “Why chase after power in Aundair, rather than trying to unify House Cannith? She already has holdings in the Reaches and Thrane as well as Aundair. Why limit herself?”

“Well,” Cart said, “if Aundair retakes the Reaches, she hasn’t lost much, has she?”

“She’s playing a dangerous game,” Ashara said. “She’s making such a break with tradition that she could lose some of her own enclaves, leave them open for Merrix or Zorlan to step in.”

House Cannith was fragmented, Aunn knew. It hadn’t split like House Phiarlan had, with the Thuranni family forming its own house, but many people believed it was just a matter of time. Jorlanna controlled the house enclaves in the northwest, but Merrix d’Cannith held sway in the south from his headquarters in Sharn, and Zorlan oversaw the house operations in the east. Anything that tipped the balance of power among the three factions could lead to a true schism, or to one baron finally claiming victory over the others. Ashara was right—it was a dangerous game.

“But I don’t think that’s all,” Ashara said. “I think it has to do with the Dragon Forge.”

“How so?” Aunn asked.

“Well, what if Jorlanna could rule a nation that didn’t need the other dragonmarked houses? What if Aundair had its own lightning rail and airships, its own banks and security, its own message stations, all operated by the Cannith family?”

“Using dragonmarks stolen from the other houses,” Aunn said. “With the Dragon Forge.”

“Exactly.”

“So it’s not a question of choosing national power over the economic power of a dragonmarked house. She wants both.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Aunn drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So what about the dragons? What was the dragon king doing here?”

“Malathar was interested in the Prophecy,” Cart said, “and in Gaven’s mark. Kelas spoke of the Forge as a refinery, separating the gold of the dragonmark from the dross of Gaven’s flesh.”

“Kelas certainly had an interest in the esoteric side of it all. This torc, the Ramethene Sword, the Prophecy—they were all part of it.”

At Aunn’s mention of the Prophecy, Cart turned his head to look at Gaven, and Aunn’s eyes followed. Gaven hadn’t moved.

“I think there’s only one person left alive who can help us sort out that part of Kelas’s plans,” Aunn said.

“But in the meantime,” Cart said, “Aundair is at war.”

“And we’re still stranded in the middle of the wilderness,” Ashara added, “four days from Arcanix or Vanguard Keep and not likely to be welcomed in either place.”

“I’m sure we can find supplies in the camp,” Aunn said. “Certainly enough for a short journey.”

Ashara frowned. “But all the soldiers who fled the camp when we fought Malathar are sure to make their way back eventually, with their eyes on the same supplies.”

“We’ll need to be careful,” Cart said.

“What were you two talking about?” Aunn said. “Before I came back?”

Ashara’s face turned red again and she looked away.

Cart answered, “Xandrar.”

“Xandrar? That’s at least ten days from here. And the wrong direction.”

“What do you mean?” Ashara said. “Where were you thinking of going?”

Aunn blinked. “I … I suppose I assumed we were going back to Fairhaven, sooner or later.”

“Why?”

Why? Aunn realized that he didn’t know. He always had returned to Fairhaven—was it simple habit? His mission accomplished, he’d return to the Royal Eyes and await his next orders? What would happen now that Kelas was dead? Would he go to Thuel and tell him of Kelas’s treason? Warn him that the queen’s life might still be in danger? Wouldn’t Thuel just throw him in prison or have him killed?

When he had killed Kelas, Aunn had dealt the final blow to his old life. And he didn’t know yet what his new life would be.

“Wherever we’re going,” Ashara said, “how do we take him with us?” She nodded toward Gaven.

“I can carry him,” Cart said.

“Even you’d get tired with that much weight on your shoulder for ten days.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“So we get him to Xandrar,” Aunn said, “or Fairhaven, or wherever we’re going—then what?”

“I hoped you had an answer in mind,” Cart said.

“I don’t. I don’t have any answers.” He stood up. “I need to think.”

“Think quickly,” Ashara said. “People will start trickling back to the camp any time, now that the storm has died.”

Aunn stalked away from the pair and found himself beside the blue-gray monolith again. He leaned his head against the cool, smooth stone and tried to think. Only a short time ago, he’d been filled with a sense of purpose—a driving force that spurred him into action, the goal of destroying the Dragon Forge and ensuring that the evil of the Secret Keeper didn’t escape into the world. Not only had he been driven into action, he felt he’d been helped along in that action, supported and guided by the Messenger. He’d been helped in the Labyrinth, given purpose by the Traveler or Kalok Shash or the ghost of Dania or some other presence. He needed to find that same sense of purpose. And that same source of help.

Help me, he thought. Please.

Be not afraid. I will be with you.

Had he heard the Messenger’s voice again in his thoughts, or just remembered it speaking before? He couldn’t tell. He put his hand to the torc at his neck, and felt a tingling chill course through his body.

It was still there, he realized—the magic that had fueled the Dragon Forge. It sprang into his mind, not a knot or weave of magic, but a raging fire, alive and unbound. It still burned in the heart of the monolith, and in the silver torc around his neck, and in himself. It was magic as he’d never seen it before, power he could taste but didn’t dare touch, a force and a presence that left him awed and humbled.

Slowly a purpose took shape in his mind again.

*  *  *  *  *

“I’m returning to Fairhaven,” Aunn announced. “I’ll take Gaven with me—there has to be a mule or horse around here that can carry him there for me. You two don’t have to come—maybe it’d be best if you don’t. I can hide myself, but I’m not sure I can hide you.”

Ashara’s eyes widened. “And what are you going to do in Fairhaven?” she said.

“Aundair’s in danger, thanks to me. I need to warn them, to make sure the queen and her generals take the threat of the barbarians seriously. I also need to find help for Gaven. And I want to find out more about Kelas’s plans. There were others involved in his plot, and someone else might be ready to pick up where he left off.”

“That’s hard for me to imagine,” Ashara said. “The plan belonged to Kelas—no one else there had the initiative or the intelligence to pull it together.”

“You’re probably right. Even so, knowing Kelas, there were probably other pieces of the plan, pieces we don’t know about, that might have enough momentum to keep moving without him.”

Cart got to his feet. “I suppose I was being foolish to think I could just walk away from all that.”

“You can,” Ashara said, standing beside him and taking his arm. “You’re a free man.”

“I’m not asking you to come with me,” Aunn said. “I really don’t know what I’d do with you.”

“I’ll take care of myself.” Cart turned to Ashara. “And freedom doesn’t mean running away from responsibility. I played a part in Kelas’s plans because I thought I had a duty to help and obey Haldren. Now I have a duty to help make it right.”

Aunn smiled at the memory of walking with Gaven and Cart in Whitecliff, what seemed like years ago and worlds away. He had just started to see the mind behind Gaven’s distracted appearance, and Gaven observed that Aunn, too, had been concealing his true face. No one had ever seen through him so easily. Cart had shattered the tension, though, by taking pains to point out that he, too, was “really quite complex. Many-layered.” It had seemed like a joke at the time.

“I’ll be glad to have you along, Cart,” he said.

“Will you come as well?” the warforged asked Ashara.

“How can I?” Tears welled in Ashara’s eyes. “I’ve betrayed my family. I’ll be excoriated!”

“You’ll be in excellent company,” Aunn said, nodding toward Gaven.

“True,” she said, smiling up at Cart.

“We’d better gather supplies,” Cart said. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Ashara’s eyes widened, and her mouth spread slowly into a grin. “Not necessarily.” Her gaze drifted to the upper rim of the canyon, the area where Aunn had fought Kelas.

“The circle!” Aunn said. The queen’s party had used a ritual circle to transport themselves back to Fairhaven.

“Exactly,” Ashara said. “Working together, I’m sure we can activate it again.”

“Where will we appear?” Cart asked. “And how do we stay hidden?”

“Ah, that’s where my plan gets devious.” Aunn’s face melted away, passing quickly through the blank gray of his natural face before it became the smiling visage of Kelas ir’Darren.