“Tempting.” Kelas took a menacing step forward, sword in his hand. “But you’ve got more use in you yet.”
Aunn slid his mace from his belt and hefted it. “True.” He charged, swinging his mace to bat Kelas’s sword aside and slamming his body into Kelas.
Kelas staggered backward, caught off guard by the sudden attack. “Haunderk!” he snarled. “You’ll pay for that!”
“I already have. I’ve paid over and over for the privilege of killing you. I’m done paying now.” He caught Kelas’s cut on the haft of his mace. He changed again, donning the face of General Jad Yeven.
“I own you,” Kelas said. “You will obey me.”
“Oh, I forgot. You hate looking at dead people.” Aunn changed again, taking Kelas’s own face. “Here’s another dead face for you.”
Kelas roared. He had long ago forbidden Aunn from wearing his face, a lesson he’d beaten hard into a young changeling. Aunn sidestepped a fierce thrust, but Kelas’s blade still bit into his arm. Aunn brought his mace around into Kelas’s side in return, doubling him over as he staggered back.
“That’s enough,” Kelas said. “This is no longer a matter of punishment. Drop your weapon now, or I will have to kill you.”
“Kill me?” Aunn took Kauth’s face. “You’ve tried to kill me already. You sent me to the Demon Wastes to die, but I didn’t die. Maybe I can’t die.”
“We’ll see.” Kelas charged again. His sword went wide, and he took another blow in his gut.
Aunn felt that he was watching the battle from outside his body, totally calm as Kelas grew more and more furious. It was a game, and Aunn knew he was going to win.
He took Laurann’s young and pretty face. “You made me a killer. Kill or be killed. No one lives forever.”
“So you remember some of your lessons,” Kelas said. “But you’ve forgotten what happens when you disobey.”
Aunn stepped forward, swinging his mace back and forth, forcing Kelas back. “I have not forgotten.”
Kelas stumbled on the rocky ground, and one more blow sent him sprawling on his back. His sword clattered out of reach. It was over.
Aunn took Faura’s face. “Who do you want to kill you, Kelas? Does this form still arouse you? Do you want this beauty to kill you?”
Kelas tried to scramble away and get to his feet, but Aunn slammed a foot down on his throat, pinning him to the ground. He wore Haunderk’s face again. “Or this one? You still think of me as Haunderk, don’t you? You gripped my child hand and drove my blade into Ledon’s throat. It was Haunderk you taught how to kill.”
“Please…” Kelas whimpered.
“You’re begging for your life? You don’t know remorse or shame, Kelas. That’s what you taught me.”
He wiped his face clean. Colorless eyes set in blank, gray skin. “My name is Aunn,” he said.
With one swing of his mace, it was over.
CHAPTER 43
Gaven emerged from his hiding place and called to Kelas’s killer.
“Changeling,” he said.
The figure whirled around, holding his mace on guard. When his pale eyes fell on Gaven, though, he lowered his weapon.
“You killed my enemy,” Gaven said, “so I’m willing to call you friend.”
The changeling’s face changed. A mouth appeared and formed a smile. “I’m glad, Gaven.” The face resolved into Darraun’s. “I hoped I’d find you here.”
“Darraun.” Gaven didn’t know what to think. A changeling was made for deception. Gaven had just seen this one adopt no less than six different faces, and he or she had clearly worked for Kelas before turning on him. How could he trust such a being? Maybe the Darraun standing before him was the same Darraun he’d known, but maybe it was just a fellow spy of Darraun’s, one who knew Darraun’s face and his connection to Gaven.
The smile fell from Darraun’s face, and he took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry, Gaven. I wish I hadn’t deceived you the way I did.”
“So do I,” Gaven said. “I trusted you.”
Darraun’s brow furrowed. “Even though you knew what I was?”
“I was a fool.”
“No, but I was. You were right to trust me. I helped you-I freed you from the Kundaraks, I flew the airship, I led you to Haldren-”
“And then you let him go.”
“Yes. That was where I betrayed your trust, and I-” Darraun’s face looked strange, his eyes momentarily out of focus, distracted. “I’m sorry,” he said to the air.
“That was not a very convincing apology.”
Darraun turned his back, looking down at Kelas’s body. “He beat it out of me. ‘You are not sorry! You do not care!’ I’m not sure I’ve given a sincere apology since then.” He turned back and his eyes met Gaven’s. “Until now.”
“Haldren was here. He was part of what they did to me.”
Darraun’s eyes fell on the raw, bare skin on Gaven’s neck and chest, where his dragonmark had been. Even Ashara’s ministrations had not relieved the pain or healed the skin. He started as if noticing it for the first time.
“Your mark…” Darraun breathed. “Haldren did that?”
“He was here, but Cart killed him before Kelas activated the forge.”
“I had no idea. Kelas never told me this part of the plan.”
“What did he tell you?”
Darraun ran his fingers through his hair. “He stirred up the barbarians of the Demon Wastes to attack the Eldeen Reaches. That will give Aundair an excuse to move troops into the Reaches, to defend its own border. For all I know, they might be there already.”
“So it’s Haldren all over again, war for the sake of Aundairian conquest.”
“Yes and no,” Darraun said. “Haldren had dreams of reuniting all of Galifar under his rule, and I’m not sure Kelas ever had any aspiration to the throne. It’s moot now.” He nodded toward Kelas’s body.
“The plan is larger than Kelas,” Gaven said. “Dragons, a Thuranni-”
“The queen was here,” Darraun interjected. “Baron d’Cannith swore fealty, the Arcane Congress-”
“And they’re using my mark as a weapon. Did you see it? They made a storm and sent it to the Reaches.”
“‘But be careful that they don’t use weapons more terrible than their foe,’” Darraun murmured. He drifted to the edge of the canyon and looked down.
“What?”
“A warning. You’re right. This is much larger than Kelas.”
Gaven led Darraun away from the canyon, toward the place where he’d left Cart. Darraun lost himself in his thoughts as they walked, turning Marelle’s warning over and over in his mind. What Kelas had called the Dragon Forge might well guarantee Aundair’s victory, not only over the Eldeen Reaches but also against the barbarians. Without it, Aundair’s forces might not be able to hold the Carrion Tribes back-Kathrik Mel might lead his horde through the Reaches and across the Wynarn River into Aundair.
But at what cost would victory come? Darraun could still feel the magic coursing out of the crystal prison and through the Dragon Forge, and the evil of the imprisoned fiend with it. It seemed clear that the Dragon Forge was the weapon Marelle had warned him against. Was she right? She had seemed almost like a divine messenger, but did her words carry prophetic weight? Or was she simply expressing the way she would resolve Darraun’s dilemma? Perhaps the evil of the Dragon Forge was actually a lesser evil than the marauding of Kathrik Mel’s horde, or at least a less urgent threat. The eladrin, it seemed, could afford a long-term view of events. When Marelle warned
