please. You are part of this expedition whether you like it or not.”
His eyes rested on the pommel of the sword slung on Gaven’s back, as if he were noticing it for the first time.
“Where did you get that sword?” he whispered.
Gaven reached over his shoulder and drew the blade out of its sheath, without moving away from Haldren. “You like it?” he said. “Senya got it for me in Shae Mordai.”
“Senya?” Haldren whirled on her. “You armed this madman?”
Senya stood her ground to Gaven’s surprise-and, evidently, to Haldren’s as well. “I thought it would help our cause if he didn’t get torn to shreds by another pack of displacer beasts,” she said.
Haldren’s fury was palpable as he turned back to Gaven. “Clearly, I underestimated you. I took you for an idiot with nothing in your mind but the Prophecy, and now even Senya is doing you favors. But listen to me, Gaven- all of you, listen well. This isn’t about the Prophecy or Vaskar’s dreams of godhood. It’s about my destiny, and I will not be denied what is due me. If you think for a moment of standing in my way, I will crush you. Any of you,” he added, with a glance toward Senya. “Don’t question whether I can or really will.” He thrust a finger into Gaven’s chest. “I will snuff your life like a candle.”
In his mind, Gaven saw himself bringing his sword around, cutting right into Haldren’s belly so he would die slowly and in great pain. The hand holding the sword tightened, the muscles flexed, his other hand itched for a grip on the smooth leather of the hilt. Something held him back, though. Perhaps it was just his better judgment, or the stares of the goblins who were circling them, watching the argument even if they couldn’t understand the language. But some part of Gaven’s mind whispered words of the Prophecy.
Gaven growled as he slid the sword back into its sheath. He took some pleasure, at least, in seeing the briefest flinch cross Haldren’s face as the huge blade swung past. Several people in the crowd groaned with disappointment.
Gaven pushed his way through the encircling goblins and strode toward the gate of Grellreach. “Lead on, then, Haldren,” he said.
CHAPTER 13
Haldren led them a short way outside of town, then gathered them into a circle. Gaven brooded as he walked, and the others seemed happy to share his silence. “What’s our next destination, Lord General?” Cart asked. The warforged was the only one who didn’t seem subdued after the confrontation, and Gaven wondered what he had thought of Haldren’s threats.
Haldren didn’t answer. He seized Senya’s hand in his left and Darraun’s in his right and began the now- familiar chant of his spell without waiting for the others. Cart and Gaven quickly closed the circle. Senya clung fiercely to Gaven’s hand before Haldren completed the spell that yanked them through space once again.
They stood in a mountain valley, barren rock stretching up on two sides. The bands of red and gold in the cliff faces suggested that they had not traveled far from the Torlaac Moor with its outcroppings of similar stone. Haldren gazed upward at something behind Gaven, so Gaven spun around, pulling his hand from Senya’s grasp.
A towering ruin loomed before them, what had once been a grand city nestled among the mountains. A broken wall formed a ring at the head of the valley, each end blending seamlessly into a cliff wall. A gate was built into the wall on a massive bridge straddling a dry river bed. Colossal statues flanked the gate, mostly crumbled away but still showing traces of what looked like gnome features. The carvings were odd, and Gaven stared at them for a long moment trying to puzzle them out.
“Paluur Draal,” Haldren announced. “We are high in the Seawall Mountains now, in land claimed by Zilargo. This city is one of the most important ruins of the ancient goblin Empire of Dhakaan in Khorvaire. Scholars from the Library of Korranberg have explored and catalogued it extensively, but they say there are many secrets yet to uncover.”
“And what are we doing here?” Gaven said.
“We are looking for a map,” Haldren said. “Specifically, one that will point us to the Sky Caves of Thieren Kor.”
“So if this is a Dhakaani ruin,” Senya said, “why are there gnomes guarding the gates?” She was staring at the same carvings that had puzzled Gaven.
“Those carvings were originally hobgoblins, or perhaps bugbears. However, several races inhabited Paluur Draal over the centuries-kobolds, humans, and gnomes most recently. By the time the gnomes settled here, the original statues were worn to mostly smooth pillars, so the gnomes carved them again in their own image.”
“And where are we going to find this map?” Gaven said.
“We’re going to look for it, as I said.”
“Out here?”
Haldren didn’t answer, but started walking toward the gate. Cart followed on his heels, with the others trailing more slowly after.
Heavy drops of rain began to fall as they entered the ruins, forming tiny craters in the dry earth. Gaven glowered up at the slate gray sky with a sense of satisfaction. Anger brewed like a storm in his mind, furrowing his brow and hunching his shoulders, and the rain seemed like a proper complement to his mood. He flexed his hands and arms as he walked, itching for a fight-for anything that would let him give vent to his frustration. He was tempted to attack Haldren outright, but he doubted he could take the sorcerer, Senya, and Cart by himself. He wondered which side Darraun would take.
So intent was his glare at Haldren’s back that he barely saw the ruined city as they walked through it. He had an indistinct impression of stone buildings in varying states of ruin, none too different than what they’d passed in the fields outside Grellreach. They wandered along streets paved with shattered cobblestones and clambered over piles of rubble that blocked their way, and slowly made their way toward the cliff face at the back edge of the ancient city.
But Gaven noticed no details, took in none of the grandeur. His attention was solely on Haldren’s back, imagining his new blade striking the sorcerer down. Despite his rage, Gaven couldn’t swallow striking anyone in the back. He’d draw the sword, call for Haldren’s attention, give the man a moment-no more-to ready himself, then bring the blade across and down. No. A quick death would be too good for Haldren. Gaven imagined summoning the fury of the storm itself, lightning falling to blast the sorcerer’s smug grin from his face.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Gaven could feel the burning tingle of the storm coursing through him. He smiled and opened his mouth to call for Haldren-
A mountain troll emerged from a fissure in the cliff face. The troll’s gray hide was covered with warty bumps like gravel. It was three times Gaven’s height when it reared up, bellowing a rumbling roar, then it shambled forward using one rubbery hand to help it over the slippery ground, a splintered log held in the other hand.
At last! Here was the chance Gaven had been craving. The attack of the displacer beasts had caught him unprepared, the argument with Haldren had filled him with rage; but now he had a sword in his hand and a reason to fight. Gaven looked up at the enormous creature. A grim smile lit his face, and lightning flickered above them.
Then the creature’s smell-a mix of carrion and excrement-hit him and nearly knocked him off his feet. Gaven was glad for the sword in his hand but nervous about his lack of armor. He circled to one side and let Cart take the brunt of the troll’s initial charge.
With a word, Gaven made crackling lightning erupt along his elven blade. He ran forward, put all of his rage and frustration into his swing, and brought the sword around in a wide arc. The blade bit deep, and the lightning coursed up the creature’s body. It howled in pain. Gaven glanced behind it-and noticed two smaller trolls emerging from the cave entrance. Perhaps that first roar hadn’t been anger but a command, summoning the creature’s followers to its aid.
“More on the way!” Gaven shouted.
The mountain troll’s club came at him, and Gaven ducked, feeling the wind from the massive limb sweep over him. His attack had drawn the troll’s attention. Either that, or the creature was smart enough to recognize an unarmored foe as a soft target. Following the big troll’s lead, the other two moved in.
