was eager to see more of the workings of the mind behind Gaven’s recitations of the draconic Prophecy.
“Ah, I’m sure Haldren will explain it all to you later,” he said.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Gaven said. “He won’t let me in on his plans any more than is absolutely necessary to get information out of me.”
“What do you think Haldren wants from you?”
“He knows some of the Prophecy, and Vaskar knows more. But two years in a cell across the hall from mine made him think I know more than the two of them combined.”
“Wild nightmares and vague visions?” Darraun said. “He could get that from a raving madman on any street corner in Fairhaven. There has to be more to you than that.”
Gaven stopped walking and waited until Darraun turned to face him. “That makes two of us, then. I’m not the only one here concealing his true face.”
“Three of us, actually,” Cart interjected. “I’m really quite complex.” He turned his head to look at both of them. “Many-layered.”
Darraun gaped at the warforged then burst into laughter. Gaven’s eyes were still fixed on him, though, so he resumed a casual stroll in the general direction of the city’s mercantile district.
“Very well, Gaven,” he said. “Clearly you are more alert and perceptive than Haldren gives you credit for. Haldren is one of those people who believes he is more intelligent than he actually is. But what he lacks in reasoning, he more than makes up for in cunning and charisma. You will find that his most dangerous quality is his ability to inspire fierce loyalty in others.” He glanced at Cart and hoped that Gaven was perceptive enough to catch his meaning.
Gaven watched him for a long moment as they walked, then evidently decided against prying any deeper into his secrets, just as Darraun had hoped he would. He figured Gaven would renew the subject if he ever managed to catch him alone, so Darraun resolved to avoid being alone with Gaven. He decided to try what he hoped was a more innocuous approach.
“I understand you were quite an explorer, years ago,” he said.
“Of sorts,” Gaven said. “More of a prospector. I lowered myself into caves and fought monsters, looking for Khyber dragonshards for my house. The elemental galleons of House Lyrandar…” He trailed off, a scowl falling over his face. “My former house,” he muttered.
Darraun tried to shift Gaven’s thoughts away from the family that had disowned him. “Lyrandar galleons and airships require nightshards to bind the elementals that power them, correct?”
“Airships?” Gaven’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of them. “They were made to work? They were a dream of my house for a long time, but I never knew…”
This approach wasn’t working either. Darraun cursed himself. He was dredging up too many painful memories.
“House Lyrandar put airships into service about nine or ten years ago,” Cart said. “Just about every nation used them in the last years of the war, and now House Lyrandar operates passenger lines.”
Darraun saw Gaven’s eyes light up and decided that if Gaven ever ran off, the airship lines would be the first place to check. This, he thought, is a man that wants to fly.
“So the Khyber dragonshards bind the elementals to the vessels?” Darraun asked again, trying to bring the subject back around to nightshards.
“That’s right,” Gaven said. “They have a peculiar property of binding. With the right magic, they can hold just about anything-even a human soul.”
“Almost like some sort of possession?” Darraun asked.
“Sort of, yes.” Gaven’s face darkened again, and he didn’t elaborate further.
“So all your expeditions into the depths of Khyber-is that how you learned so much about the Prophecy?”
Gaven stared blankly ahead, showing no indication that he’d heard the question. A cloud passed over the hot noonday sun, and Darraun glanced at the sky. “We’d better get our supplies and get ready to go,” he said. “I understand it can rain pretty hard here in the jungle, though it usually comes in short spurts.”
He quickened their pace, and they found shelter in a provisioner’s shop. Heavy drops of rain started falling a moment later.
The shopkeeper was attentive to their every need, which meant Darraun was unable to keep up his line of questions. He stayed busy ordering the things they’d need for their journey, but at one point when the merchant had vanished into a back storeroom for a moment he found himself staring at Gaven’s dragonmark. The intricate pattern almost seemed painted on Gaven’s skin, fine tracings of blue beginning just at the ridge of his jaw, on his left side, covering the whole front of his neck, and extending down under his shirt. It probably covered his whole chest, and Darraun could see part of it extending out his short sleeve to reach his left elbow. The skin beneath the mark was redder than the rest of Gaven’s pale flesh, giving the whole ‘mark a purplish tinge. There was something vaguely draconic about the part that covered his neck, which must have been how the dragonmarks had earned their names.
The Mark of Storm. Darraun glanced at a window spattered with rain and wondered if Gaven’s mark had anything to do with the weather outside. The rain was coming down hard now, so hard that Darraun could hear the drops splattering on the cobblestones outside and driving against the shutters of the shop. He sighed, glancing down at the fine clothes that would soon be pasted to his skin. Natural storms were one thing, but a storm caused by magic was a more unpleasant prospect. Would Gaven make it rain for the length of their time together?
All the more reason to get this over with quickly, Darraun told himself.
“Cart, what do you think of this?” Gaven held up a leather belt studded with wooden beads and decorative stones, supposedly made by one of the nearby lizardfolk tribes. He was aware of Darraun’s gaze lingering on him, but he chose to ignore it. Darraun had been asking a lot of questions, and Gaven wanted to get him away from Cart and ask some of his own before he submitted to any more interrogation.
“Interesting,” Cart said, taking the belt in his three-fingered hands. He looked down at the battered belt that held his battle-axe at his waist. “I could certainly use a new one, but I don’t know about this.”
“It would be a different look for you,” Gaven said. The shopkeeper had returned and engaged Darraun in further discussion. Darraun deftly avoided any question of their destination, planned activities, anything that might help pursuers track them down. “What’s your connection to this group, Cart?” Gaven asked. “How do you know Haldren?”
“He was my commanding officer,” Cart said.
“He was a sergeant?” Gaven was stunned. “I got the sense he ranked higher than that.”
“And you assume I was just a private,” Cart said. “Lord General Haldren ir’Brassek commanded the Third Brigade of Aundair, Gaven. I might have made colonel and commanded a regiment myself, but Aundair’s armed forces value a skill in magic that I completely lack. I was part of the general’s staff.”
“I’m sorry, Cart,” Gaven said. “I…”
“I know. You were thrown in Dreadhold before the warforged proved their worth on the battlefield, almost a decade before Chase received his commission, I believe.”
Cart’s voice was a little too loud, and Gaven thought he saw the shopkeeper’s eyes dart in the warforged’s direction at the mention of Dreadhold. Damn, Gaven thought. All of Darraun’s careful work undone by one slip.
“Chase?” he said, keeping an eye on the shopkeeper.
“The first warforged to hold a command over human soldiers. He served in Aundair and proved himself far more competent than the Lord Major in command of the company. In 981 his general promoted him and relieved the Lord Major of his command, but the Lord Major complained to the Queen.”
Gaven watched the shopkeeper excuse himself and head into the back of the shop again.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Cart, but we need to get out of here.”
“What?”
“Fast. Darraun!”
The man whirled around. “What is it?”
Gaven nodded in the direction the shopkeeper had gone. “He’s going to get the authorities. We need to go.” Grabbing Cart’s arm, he hustled to the door. Darraun stared for a moment at the provisions spread over the countertop, then ran after them.
