was suppressed, forgotten, struck from written legend, and wiped from memory.”
A voice at Darraun’s shoulder startled him. “The first of sixteen.” Darraun had not heard Gaven come up behind him.
“Yes, Gaven, the first of sixteen,” Haldren said. “The Gold Serpent whom the world has long since forgotten.”
It took Darraun a moment to remember where he had heard the words before, but then he could hear the cold, clear voice of Senya’s deathless ancestor in his mind. Snippets of that strange conversation between Gaven and the undying elder flashed through his mind.
In the first age of the world, sixteen dragons transcended their mortal forms to become like the Dragon Above who had made them.
“Wait,” Darraun blurted, causing Haldren to turn and face him. “Senya’s ancestor said that sixteen dragons became gods in the first age of the world. So you’re suggesting that these sixteen dragons were the gods of the goblins, and fifteen of those gods are also the gods of the Host and the Dark Six?”
“Indeed,” Haldren said. “That is exactly what I am saying.”
“But why was that sixteenth god forgotten?”
“That is the great mystery of Dhakaan. It might be that the god was so closely identified with the Dhakaani that the humans obliterated any record of him in order to quell any resistance from the goblins they conquered.” Haldren paced as he spoke, and he sounded as though he were thinking out loud. “Perhaps they believed that wiping out all memory of the god would also extirpate all memory of the goblin empire. On the other hand, the words of Senya’s ancestor suggest that the god himself abandoned the world. Perhaps he stopped granting spells to his clerics. Or perhaps the goblins grew convinced that their god had abandoned them in allowing their defeat at human hands, and they themselves obliterated his memory. It could be that he abandoned the world because the world forgot him.”
“I’m still not clear on what happened with the other fifteen,” Senya said. “You said the humans identified some gods with gods of the Host, and adopted others like the Keeper? Those are the Dark Six?”
“Exactly,” Haldren said, putting a hand on Senya’s back. “As far as we know, the first humans to come across the sea worshiped nine gods-the Sovereign Host. They encountered the goblin pantheon of sixteen gods, and apparently they were willing to believe that they had lived in ignorance of six more. But those six were the most destructive and evil of the fifteen, the Dark Six, and they were made inferior to the Sovereigns.”
Darraun shook his head. “And all sixteen of these gods-the nine Sovereigns, the Dark Six, and the missing one-all of them were actually dragons who became gods during the first age of the world?”
“Correct. And according to the Prophecy, there’s a vacancy in that roster of sixteen gods. Khorvaire will have a new god-Vaskar, the Storm Dragon. Right, Gaven?”
Darraun looked at Gaven. He was staring up at the statue with its marred face, apparently lost in a trance. Then his lips moved, but no sound came out.
“What was that, Gaven?” said Darraun. “What did you say?”
Gaven’s voice was a whisper. “The Bronze Serpent seeks the face of the first of sixteen,” he said. His voice trailed off, though his lips kept moving.
Haldren stepped forward, his face purple with rage, and slapped Gaven hard across the face. “Speak,” he said, “so I can hear you.”
Strong and clear now, Gaven repeated his earlier words. “The Bronze Serpent seeks the face of the first of sixteen.” A wind stirred the stale air in the cave. “But the Storm Dragon walks in his paths. The Bronze Serpent faces the Soul Reaver and fails. But the Storm Dragon seizes the shard of heaven from the fallen pretender.” The wind swirled around Gaven, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and pebbles around his feet and whipping his hair around his face.
The color drained from Haldren’s face, and he took two steps backward, away from Gaven. “No,” he murmured. “The Bronze Serpent… Vaskar is the Storm Dragon! He must be!”
Senya grabbed Haldren’s arm. “But what if he’s not, Haldren?”
“No!” Haldren’s eyes were wild, and he stumbled backward. Cart took up a position between Gaven and Haldren, as if to ward his commander from an attack. Darraun stayed out of the way, watching and waiting to see how the situation played out.
“What if it’s Gaven?” Senya clung to his arm, her voice an entreaty. “Look at him-the Mark of Storm he wears. The wind blows at his command, the rain outside-”
With another crash of thunder outside the cave, the wind swirling around Gaven died. Gaven slumped to his hands and knees and stared at the ground, shaking his head.
“You old fool,” Gaven said, then lifted his eyes to Haldren. “Vaskar’s not the Storm Dragon. You’ve hitched your chariot to the wrong horse.”
Haldren found his feet and pulled his arm away from Senya’s grasp. “And you think you’re the one?”
Darraun couldn’t read his voice-it might have been an accusation, but there was a hint of genuine wonder.
Gaven scoffed. “The Storm Dragon? No. No matter what Senya says.”
The mention of her name made Haldren wheel on Senya. “You have betrayed me,” he whispered.
“I’m trying to help you,” Senya said. Darraun had expected her to cower in the face of his wrath, but she stood her ground and met his gaze. “Abandon Vaskar, Haldren. He’s doomed to fail. It’s not too late! If we work with Gaven-”
Senya broke off as Haldren turned his gaze back to Gaven, fury burning in his eyes. Gaven had dropped his head again and was staring at the ground. Haldren shook his head.
“No,” he said. He grabbed Senya’s hand and yanked her toward him, then reached out for Cart’s hand. “Take hands. We’re leaving.”
Cart took Darraun’s hand, and Darraun bent over Gaven, helping him to his feet and holding on to one hand. Senya gently took Gaven’s other hand in hers.
Haldren began the words to his spell, and Darraun found himself lost in the rhythm of them. He looked around the troubled little circle. Haldren’s eyes were closed as he focused on his spell; he was suppressing his anger in order to keep his mind clear. Cart stared impassively ahead. Senya’s eyes were on Gaven, her brow furrowed, and she clung to his hand. Gaven’s head hung down, and Darraun couldn’t see his eyes.
The spell built to its conclusion, and Darraun felt the first tugs that would carry them across hundreds of miles. In that instant, Gaven’s hand wrenched free of his. Haldren shouted the last syllable of the spell as if he couldn’t choke it back, and they were gone.
PART II
In the Time of the Dragon Above, when Siberys turns night into day, and showers of light fall from the sky, the Eye of Siberys falls near the City of the Dead. A fragment of celestial light, the Eye sees, and in it all is seen. The Eye of Siberys lifts the Sky Caves of Thieren Kor from the land of desolation under the dark of the great moon, and the Storm Dragon walks in the paths of the first of sixteen. The shard of heaven falls to earth a second time, and its light brightens Khyber’s darkness.
CHAPTER 14
Rienne stood at the railing of the small airship and gazed at the churning waters of Scions Sound far below. An unnatural storm blew out of the Mournland, churning the dead gray mist that marked the borders of that desolate wasteland into a roiling frenzy and sending long tendrils of smoky gray reaching for them. So far, the skill of the ship’s windwright captain had kept the air around them calm-and free from the grasping reach of the mist. Rienne shuddered. The mist stood in her mind as a symbol of the mystery that cloaked the destruction of Cyre near the end of the Last War. It was impenetrable, inscrutable, and deadly. Within its embrace, nothing could survive for
