You want us to rob a temple?” Lei said. She looked at Daine. “Surely you’re not going along with this.”

Daine shrugged. “Where were the gods when Cyre was destroyed?”

“You can’t expect the Sovereigns to take sides in mortal wars. Cyre, Breland—they watch over us all.”

“Not very well.”

“Stealing from priests—how much lower could we sink?”

Gerrion was watching the interchange with a smile. “Fair lady, I assure you that the master of this temple has sunk far lower than you ever could. If it is any consolation, he obtained the object we now seek through theft.”

“Why should I believe you?” Lei said.

“Well, since I was the one who stole it for him, I would hope you’d take my word on the matter.”

“Who did you steal it from?” Daine said.

“Hassalac Chaar. That’s how I know it’s something he wants.”

“Of course.” Daine ran a hand across his forehead. Lakashtai and Pierce both watched in silence. Daine guessed that Lakashtai had known about this all along; Pierce, on the other hand, saw no reason to speak. “So you know your way around Hassalac’s estate?”

“Oh, no. I stole the scale before it ever reached the Dragon Prince. I have my talents, but I wouldn’t be so foolish as to invade Hassalac’s sanctum. Not to discourage you, of course.”

Daine glanced at Lakashtai; she raised her eyebrows, and this minimal motion conveyed her indifference as clearly as any shrug. “Fine. This is your game, Lakashtai, and I’ll follow your lead.”

Lei was still studying the multicolored hierogram above the gate. “I … suppose. What are we looking for?”

“A single scale from a blue dragon, a foot across, one and a half feet tall. Straps have been placed on one side, allowing it to be used as a buckler; the other bears the symbol of the Sovereigns.”

Lei considered this. “A foot across? But the dragon would have to be …” She trailed off, struggling to calculate sizes in her head.

“If you believe Master Sakhesh, it’s a scale of the god Aureon himself.”

“Oh!” Lei said. “They’re draconists!” The prospect seemed to cheer her.

“Care to explain that to us lowly soldiers?” Daine said.

“There’s a sect that claims that the Sovereigns walked the earth before they rose to the heavens,” Lei said. “The draconists say that these dragons were the mightiest children of Eberron and Siberys, and that after defeating the demons of Khyber they ascended to a higher state of being. I’ve never actually met a draconist, but I’ve seen a few of their icons.”

“It’s a belief that’s alive and well in Xen’drik,” Gerrion said. “They say Master Sakhesh hopes to become a dragon himself some day, and his faith is founded on greed. The dragon church is one of the oldest buildings of Stormreach; this is a hard land, and the first settlers relied on the magic of the priests for survival. The church has a proud history of extortion, and Maru Sakhesh is a great believer in tradition.”

Daine didn’t care if people cast the gods as dragons, humans, or fruit, but it seemed to make all the difference to Lei; this revelation had removed her doubts. “What’s our plan?”

“Gather around,” Gerrion said, “and I’ll tell you what to do.”

Gerrion did not accompany them into the church. The situation was plain enough to Daine; this wasn’t the first time that Gerrion had robbed this temple, and Sakhesh would not welcome him. Daine glanced over at Lakashtai. Much of this plan depended on her mental power, and in her weakened state she might not be up to the challenge. Her expression was serene, and if she had any doubts she hid them well.

A small antechamber led into the circular nave of the church. Benches filled the center of the chamber. Nine altars were spread along the walls, each altar placed beneath one of the crystal blocks in the walls; pink light filtered down through these crystal cubes. Traditionally, each altar would bear the symbol of one of the nine Sovereigns; here the altars were engraved with images of dragons, elaborately carved and inlaid with enamel and jewels. Daine was no expert on religion, but he knew that the central altar was typically dedicated to Aureon, and here it bore the image of a rearing blue dragon wreathed in lightning.

Do not speak. It was Lakashtai’s voice, quiet and clear. Too clear—there was no trace of an echo in the great hall. Think of me, and I shall hear your thoughts.

Great, Daine thought. I needed more voices in my head.

Who invited you? It was Lei’s voice. Wait—? Daine?

I have linked us all, came Lakashtai’s thought, and there was a strange burst of emotion like the mental equivalent of a frustrated sigh. Someone approaches, so do turn your attention to the task at hand.

The priest was tall and heavyset, a man used to good food and easy living. He wore a robe of black silk with a golden cowl, and colorful dragons danced along the hem.

“Travelers have come to the house of the Nine,” the priest said, his voice low and resonant. His golden hair was scented and oiled, but lines of age could be seen beneath the powder on his face. “Olladra smiles on us all to lead you to this place. I am Maru Sakhesh, and in this place I speak with the voice of the Sovereigns. I fear the midday service is hours away, and many of my acolytes have yet to arrive, but perhaps you have come in search of more—personal services.”

Daine had no idea what the old man was talking about, but something about this speech sent a shiver down his spine. The old man’s voice had power, but there was something fundamentally repellent about him. There was no emotion in his gaze, just cold calculation. This man might worship dragons, but looking into his eyes, Daine knew that to the priest he was no more significant than a worm.

“We have, good priest,” Lakashtai said. She met Sakhesh’s gaze, and Daine caught the faintest gleam of green light burning in her eyes. “We set sail tomorrow for the city of Trolanport. We have done well in our travels, and we wish to make offerings to Kol Korran and Olladra to thank them for their bounty and to ensure our safe return.”

She gestured at the empty air beside her, and for an instant Daine saw a host of servants, laden with coffers brimming with coins, gems and platters of rich foods. He blinked, and the image vanished.

“As you can see, we have brought a variety of goods,” Lakashtai continued. “Some we wish to sacrifice directly to the Sovereigns themselves, but it was our hope that you would guide us through the ritual of Olladra’s Feast—joining in the celebration, of course. Naturally, we would make a donation to the temple to compensate you for your time.”

Maru Sakhesh stared at the space she had indicated, and his eyes widened. “As Olladra wills!” he said cheerfully. “It is not my place to refuse her bounty.” He indicated a heavy wooden table at the very center of the chamber. “Let me sort through your goods, and then we can begin.”

It is done, came Lakashtai’s thoughts. He has a strong mind—I do not know how long I can maintain this vision. Move swiftly and as silently as possible. Sound may break the trance.

Sakhesh was inspecting the row of servants that existed only in his mind, sniffing at imaginary delicacies.

Pierce, Lei—you can both hear me? Daine thought. Affirmations quickly followed. Flail out, Pierce—if we encounter enemies, it will be close quarters. You take the rear. Lei, you’re with me. Watch floor and door for any sort of defenses. Any opposition, I want you back behind Pierce. Understood? Go!

There was a large wooden door at the far end of the room. Lei examined it and nodded. Daine grasped the door and pulled gently—there was the faintest creak of old hinges, but nothing the priest would hear over his loud conversation with Lakashtai and her imaginary companions. Daine ducked through, leading with the point of his sword, but there was no one on the other side—just a spiral staircase dropping down beneath the temple.

Daine gestured with his dagger, and Lei cautiously stepped past him, moving slowly down the stairs.

Normally, it would have been Pierce leading the way; the warforged was built for stealth and speed and could withstand the most punishment if it came to a battle, but Gerrion had warned them to expect magical countermeasures. As she made her way down the stairs, Lei cleared her mind of all stray thought. Her task was much like listening for a sound on the edge of hearing, a slight tone that an untrained listener would never notice. What she sought could not be caught with eye or ear. It was something that could only be felt in the mind: a shiver in the soul, the faintest trace of the unnatural in the air. It was beyond most people, but Lei had shaped flows of magical energy as a child, and she could she sense the world hidden in the shadows of reality.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, stopping the others with a sharp gesture. Had she truly felt it, or was it just an echo in her imagination? She reached out with her thoughts, sending the faintest pulse of mystical energy through the air. Suddenly a web of pale blue light burst into view—a dizzying pattern of glowing lines and words in the script of dragons, forming a wide circle that completely blocked the narrow hallway.

Glyph, she warned the others. It was a spell frozen in time, waiting to unleash its power on any creature that passed over it. The seal could hold any number of unpleasant effects. It might paralyze its victim, explode in a burst of deadly fire, or summon a fiend to dispatch the intruder. Studying the walls and floor, Lei couldn’t see any scorch marks or signs of physical damage, so odds were good that the glyph wouldn’t explode—but there were many lethal effects that would leave no marks on the surroundings.

Move swiftly. I cannot hold him long.

Lakashtai’s thought pulled Lei from her reverie. I know, I know! Give me a moment. Daine put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly, and she gave him a brief smile. “I’m all right,” she whispered, feeling an irrational desire to keep her words from the kalashtar upstairs.

She drew a deep breath and turned her attention back to the glowing glyph. She closed her eyes and extended her perceptions, calling on the same techniques she used to craft her own magic. She touched the seal with her mind and slowly traced its path with her thoughts, running along each strand of energy until she reached the end. Every gleaming thread was bound together to form a greater whole, and she contemplated the beauty of the magical web. Finally, she directed a burst of energy at the heart of the seal—a blade that would either cut the thread or cause it to explode.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. The glyph had faded away. To the others, the experience had only taken seconds, but she was exhausted; it seemed as if days had passed since she first looked at the glyph.

Broken, she thought to the others and continued down the hallway.

If Gerrion’s directions are correct, this is the chamber we’re looking for, Lei thought. I can’t sense any traps, but it is mystically sealed—the work of House Kundarak, if I know my auras. I imagine Sarkhesh has a token to deactivate the seal.

“Remind me why we didn’t just kill him and take the key?” Daine muttered.

My, thief to assassin in less than an hour. You really are making quick progress, Lei thought. Now let me work on this door—I’m going to need to prepare an unbinding charm, and it’s a difficult task. She pulled a small brass wand from her belt pouch and began whispering to it, weaving the energies she would need to break the arcane lock.

Three acolytes have arrived. It was Lakashtai. I have managed to draw them into my illusion, but there is a limit to the number of minds I can affect—should anyone else arrive, there will be trouble.

Lei’s working on it, Daine shot back. A moment later Lei completed her task and touched the wand to the door, producing a brief flicker of light. The door slowly creaked inwards.

Daine pulled Lei away from the door. Pierce, point.

Pierce had his long flail in one hand, the chain wrapped around the haft. He pressed the flail against the door, slowly pushing it open. Then he darted inside, swift and silent.

Safe, came his thought.

Daine was the next to enter, blades drawn in spite of Pierce’s assurances. He glanced around, and his heart sunk.

The room was full of dragons.

There were wooden dragons, wyrms carved from gold and ivory, statues in a host of shapes and sizes. The doorway was flanked by two copper statues, and each of these rearing dragons was taller than Pierce. Dozens of chests and caskets were scattered around the chamber, seemingly without rhyme or reason. A mail shirt hung from the wall, white scales bound to leather. If there was a blue dragon scale in the room, it was hidden from view.

Lakashtai? Daine thought. You may have to maintain the ritual for longer than we’d planned.