'Again.' Gaven looked around the room. 'I hope he didn't run into more trouble.'
'Gaven, listen.' Cart leaned forward over the table and lowered his voice. 'It took me a long time to come around and do what was right, and by then it was too late for me to stop… what they did to you. I'm sorry for that.'
'You have more than made up for it since.'
'No, I don't think I have. I'm not sure I ever will.'
'I wouldn't have made it out of there without your help. Both of you,' he added, smiling at Ashara. 'You got me out of Phaine's tent to safety, and then you went back to the forge with me. You helped me recover what they took from me.'
'Gaven,' Ashara said, looking at the table, 'I carry far more blame than Cart for what happened. I know it doesn't mean anything, but I'm sorry as well. The Dragon Forge, the whole thing was largely my work. Kelas might have operated it, but I built it-I took your mark from you.'
Gaven didn't know how to answer. He had been furious at the forge, when they first met-only a few days ago, but it seemed so much longer. But, as Cart had pointed out then, she had saved his life, tending his wounds after their narrow escape from Phaine and the dragon-king. She seemed committed to goals that he and Cart shared, now, perhaps trying to make restitution for the wrongs she had done.
'Can you restore it?' he said.
Ashara's eyes met his and widened in surprise. 'I… I don't know.' She frowned and looked away. 'I can imagine another device, like the Dragon Forge, built to undo its work.'
'Powered by dragonfire?'
'I said I could imagine it. There's no way I could build it alone. But maybe a simpler item…' She trailed off, eyes closed in concentration. 'What?'
'It's possible I could mount the shard in a staff or rod, to let you access its power by holding the haft.'
'I can access its power by just holding the shard.'
'Oh. Of course. It is still your mark, clearly.'
'So you're saying that such an item would let anybody access its power, not just me? The way the Dragon Forge let Kelas call that storm and send it to Varna?'
'Yes, although the Dragon Forge was designed to amplify the effect of the mark.'
'This would just let anybody wield the power of the Siberys Mark of Storm,' Gaven said. 'Have you ever known a Siberys heir in your own House, Ashara? Is there a Siberys Mark of Making loose in the world right now?'
'There was, a few years ago. She came from Zorlan's branch of the family, in Karrnath, but she turned rogue.'
'You mean she refused to let the House keep her on a short leash in Korth.'
'Right.'
'And what happened to her?'
'First, Jorlanna and Merrix tried to bring her under their thumbs. When that failed, all three branches of the House worked together to eliminate her.'
'If there's one thing that can make the three Cannith barons work together…'
Ashara finished his thought. 'It's the threat of a Siberys heir loose in the world.'
'So imagine House Lyrandar's reaction if they even learn that this dragonshard exists. The Siberys Mark of Storm, not just scribed on the skin of an excoriate criminal like me, but loose, so anyone could pick it up and use it. In Jorlanna's hands, or Phaine's?'
'I hope you haven't been showing it around,' Cart said.
'Of course n-'
A voice behind him cut Gaven off. 'Good evening, Ashara.'
Gaven turned in his seat. It was a human man, with the Mark of Making on one temple, right beside a shock of white hair. The man glanced at Gaven as he turned, then looked back at Ashara.
'Hello, Harkin.' Ashara's voice was cold and flat, and her eyes went to Cart.
Harkin's eyes followed hers, and he grinned. 'And… Barrow, wasn't it? Carrying the dying from the field of battle?'
'Cart,' the warforged said.
'Of course. And I don't believe I've had the pleasure.' He looked at Gaven.
Gaven stood, putting his eyes at a level with Harkin's. 'I'm Keven,' he said, taking Harkin's extended hand.
'Harkin d'Cannith.' He gripped Gaven's hand firmly and gave it a cursory shake.
'Don't you mean ir'Cannith?' Ashara said. 'We're a noble house now.'
'Of course,' Harkin said. His eyes ranged over Gaven's face and arms, and Gaven realized he was looking for a dragonmark. 'Are you part of the family, Keven?'
'No,' Gaven said. He hadn't given any thought to a family name for 'Keven,' but making himself a Cannith- either with a dragonmarked d' or a noble ir'-seemed like a bad idea.
'Yet I've seen you before, haven't I?'
Gaven frowned. He had the same feeling, a nagging sense of familiarity, but he couldn't find a specific memory. It seemed like something in a dream.
'Yes, I have,' Harkin said. His eyes narrowed. 'In the enclave, last night. With Ashara and ir'Darren-he called you their prisoner, and the warforged led you out like a helpless child. Jorlanna seemed particularly furious when I told her about you. I wonder why.'
None of what Harkin said sounded familiar, but Gaven's pulse quickened. If Harkin recognized him as a prisoner, there could be trouble.
'Listen, Harkin,' Ashara said. She stood and took Harkin's arm, lowering her voice to a whisper. 'This isn't the time or place to explain all this. I'm willing to help you with the family matter we discussed, so the Baron certainly doesn't need to know anything about this meeting, right?'
'Of course.' Harkin's smile did little to reassure Gaven. 'I had hoped to discuss that family matter with you in more detail, but it can wait for your convenience.'
'Tomorrow would be better,' Ashara said. 'Perhaps luncheon? Here? I'm told this place offers private meeting rooms, if you know the right person to ask.'
'I would enjoy a private meeting with you,' Harkin said.
Ashara dropped his arm and stepped back, putting Cart between her and Harkin and resting a hand on the warforged's shoulder. 'The three of us will have a great deal to discuss, I'm sure,' she said.
'Oh, you'll be joining us then, Keven?'
'No. I think Ashara was referring to Cart.'
Harkin's eyes fell on Ashara's hand. 'I see. Well, I'm sure that will be enlightening.' He turned and extended a hand to Gaven again. 'It was a pleasure to meet you, Keven, and I hope to see you again. Ashara, it's always lovely to see you, and I look forward to our meeting tomorrow. Good-bye.'
He turned and strode away, weaving through the tables, stumbling once as he tripped over a cloak trailing off someone's chair. He did not look back.
'I'm sorry to say this, Ashara,' Cart said, 'but I don't like him very much.'
Ashara sighed and sat back down beside Cart. 'Neither do I. But he could be very useful to us and to Aunn.'
Gaven dropped back in his chair as Harkin finally stormed out the door. 'But where in the Ten Seas is Aunn?'
CHAPTER 18
Rienne stood near the front of the lines of Eldeen defenders as the Blasphemer's horde drew near. The Reachers were mostly farmers and herders drafted into the militia, handed spears and told to defend their lands, with only a few professional soldiers, officers scattered among the lines to enact a modicum of strategy. The front
