The Keeper of Secrets, that darkness was called, and the Messenger strained to keep it bound. Gaven tried to feel the presence of the Messenger, some shred of good or hope left in the crystal, but he felt only the hatred of the other.
Malathar the Damned will consume your body and annihilate your soul.
Gaven looked back at Ashara and Aunn and saw a grimness on each of their faces. Cart’s steps were heavy and his head hung low. All of them heard the Keeper of Secrets. All of them were wrestling with doubt and despair.
“It lies,” Gaven said. His voice sounded muffled in his own ears, as though he were calling to his companions through a thick fog. They looked up at him as though lost in that same fog, their eyes distant and distracted.
“It lies,” he repeated. “Truth would burn its tongue. It’s the Keeper of Secrets.”
Aunn murmured something, perhaps a vague echo of the warning he’d repeated several times in their camp.
“It’s trying to sow despair,” Cart said.
“It’s very good at it,” Ashara said.
“Fight it! It speaks nothing but lies.”
Gaven pressed forward, trusting the others to follow. If they could just escape the tunnel, he felt sure, the despair would ease.
You were the Storm Dragon. You bore the touch of Siberys. Now what are you? Nothing. Just another would-be hero marching to certain death.
I was the Storm Dragon, Gaven thought. Is it possible that I’m not anymore? Was my destiny stripped from me as well? Your destiny is to die in Malathar’s claws. I am player and playwright. I will decide my own destiny.
Malathar will decide, and you will die.
CHAPTER 44
Gaven’s voice sounded faint against the fog in Aunn’s mind, as he called back some warning over his shoulder. Another voice was trying to drown Gaven’s out-the harsh whisper of the evil held within the crystal. It grated against his ears but didn’t break through into his consciousness.
All he heard was a velvet hush of words, soft and quiet and yet still more powerful than either Gaven’s shout or the Secret Keeper’s rasp.
He will soon be free. You must stop him.
“How can I stop him?” Aunn murmured.
Be not afraid. I will be with you.
Gaven plunged ahead through the tunnel, and Aunn followed as fast as he could. It felt like walking through water-the air was thick with the warring energies of the two spirits. He closed his eyes, and he saw himself in a raging torrent, power churning out toward the Dragon Forge, splashing and foaming against rocks that strained feebly to hold it back. The end of the tunnel came into view, visible to Aunn’s senses as a lattice spidering out from a central point, where a blade, radiant with powerful magic, was thrust into the stone. Coiled around the blade was a shining silver corona. Aunn opened his eyes with a start. Distorted through the crystal, he could just make out the silver torc he’d taken from Dania’s body.
Gaven squeezed and stumbled out of the tunnel and down the short jump to the canyon floor, and Aunn followed. He had expected his mind and his ears to clear once he left the tunnel, but the steam and flames of the Dragon Forge just added a sinister drone to the cacophony. He turned back to the crystal as Ashara, already through the gap, helped Cart squeeze out, and he closed his eyes again to see the intricate weave of magic that fueled the Dragon Forge.
Ashara and then Cart dropped to the ground beside him, and he turned to Ashara.
“It’s incredible,” he breathed. “I’ve never seen anything-”
Cart cut him off. “On your guard!”
Aunn whirled. A sudden wind kicked dust and gravel up into the air as a huge shadow fell across the canyon. He looked up, and laid eyes for the first time on Malathar the Damned.
“Into the Forge!” Gaven shouted. He ran without glancing back at the others, but then Rienne’s voice rang in his mind again. “I hope you can spare a thought to cover mine.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder as he ran.
Cart and Ashara were right behind him, but Aunn seemed paralyzed, his gaze fixed on the dragon-king. “Aunn!” he called, but the changeling didn’t move.
“Go,” he told Cart as the warforged drew near, then he turned and ran back to Aunn. There was a memory, distant and vague He stood in his shattered cell in Dreadhold, staring bewildered at Cart while Darraun spoke encouraging words and Haldren shouted overhead.
But Aunn didn’t look bewildered. His mace was in his hand, and he stood at the ready. He looked intent, focused, and determined.
Black flame roared over them both as Gaven reached Aunn’s side. Gaven roared and tumbled to the ground, reacting to the pain before he realized how well his newly enchanted armor had protected him, its warding magic extending even beyond the reach of its metal. The pain was not so bad, and his strength held up against the necromantic energy of the dragon-king’s fire.
Aunn shimmered with silver as the black flame rolled off him like water and drained into the ground. He raised his mace to Malathar, a challenge or a salute, as the dragon-king wheeled in the air overhead.
“Aunn, come on!” Gaven seized the changeling’s wrist and started to pull him toward the forge, but Aunn wrenched his wrist away.
“Why flee?” he said. “Didn’t we come here for this?”
“I came here to get my dragonmark back and destroy that forge. Then I’ll face Malathar.”
“Go, then. I’ll cover your back.”
Gaven paused for just an instant, Rienne’s words haunting him again, then he turned back to the forge and ran after Cart and Ashara. He saw Cart swinging his axe just inside the entrance to the iron building and hurried to join the battle.
With a rattle of dry bones and a rustle of leathery skin, Malathar landed before him. Dust billowed in a cloud around the undead dragon, stinging Gaven’s eyes and biting his exposed skin. Even with all four feet on the ground and his body crouching low to the ground, Malathar seemed huge-the dragon-king’s breastbone was at his eye level, his back out of reach, and his bony wings stretched far overhead.
“You have proven nuisance enough, meat,” Malathar whispered.
Gaven checked his headlong rush and clutched his sword, circling more carefully around the enormous dragon’s side. He spoke an arcane word and his body erupted in protective cold fire. “Let me show you what a nuisance I can be,” he growled as he lunged forward.
His sword clattered against a bone, then Malathar’s violet eyes appeared in front of him, blazing into his own. A deathly chill started behind his eyes and spread down his spine, numbing his limbs and freezing him in place. With a whispering hiss, the dragon-king’s head snaked up on his long neck, then shot forward, jaws wide. Gaven was powerless to dodge-he could only watch the swordlike teeth coming at him.
Aunn’s body slammed into his, knocking him aside, and the changeling’s mace smashed up into Malathar’s jaw. The weapon burst in a flash of white light and knocked the dragon’s head backward. Aunn landed on top of Gaven, shouting in pain from the icy cold of Gaven’s protective fire. He rolled quickly aside, dodging a blind rake of Malathar’s claw. The chill was slow to ebb from Gaven’s limbs, but he managed to scramble to his feet and stagger a few steps away.
“Go!” Aunn shouted.
Gaven stumbled into a run, then he was beside Cart. He swung his sword wildly, beating back the soldiers who tried to defend the Dragon Forge. The soldiers fell back in the face of their combined fury and he saw the dragonshard in its setting. Another sprint and he would be there.
For just an instant his heart sang-he thought he felt the wind at his back lifting him and speeding his run. But
