the Sentinel Marshal who captured Senya. That was not one of his proudest moments.
'There's a marshal in town right now,' Harkin continued, 'quietly asking questions about this whole affair, and by now I expect she's heard quite an earful about the Cannith heir seen walking through the streets this morning, hanging on the arm of a warforged. The key question, I think, is whether she knows that the baron declared you excoriate. If she doesn't, she might try to use you to trap Jorlanna. If she does, she might be asking for your help.'
'I don't want to talk to a Sentinel Marshal.' Ashara groaned.
Harkin smirked. 'That, my dear, is why you should have kept a lower profile this morning. Now, it's too late. The Sentinel Marshal I spoke of has just walked into this bakery.'
Ashara looked at the door, over Cart's shoulder, and her eyes widened. Cart turned in his seat and saw them as well. A tall human woman wearing gleaming chainmail beneath a leather overcoat, resting a hand on the basket hilt of a rapier, cast her eyes around the room until they fell on Cart. She gestured to her companion, a female dwarf whose scarlet silk shirt provided stark contrast to her deep brown skin, and the two of them made their way to the table where Cart and Ashara sat.
CHAPTER 28
Senya tucked her feet under her and smiled. 'So why did you come here?' she asked.
Gaven leaned back in his chair and sighed. Why had he come? 'I'm not sure, actually.'
'Really?' Senya shifted forward slightly. She wasn't mocking him-she seemed genuinely intrigued.
'Well, I got to thinking about what your ancestor said to me in Shae Mordai. 'The third time, you will finally find what you seek.''
Senya nodded. ''Twice you have come to me now,' she said. You never did explain that.'
'The first time, it wasn't me. A dragon disguised in human form went with Mendaros to see your ancestor.'
'What? If it wasn't you…'
'That dragon's memories took root in my mind. That's why-well, basically that's why I went to Dreadhold. So when you took me before your ancestor, she recognized the dragon in my mind. That was the second time.'
'The dragon's second time.'
Gaven frowned. 'Sort of.' It didn't make sense, as he thought about it. The dragon had visited Senya's ancestor once, four or five hundred years ago. If Gaven's visit was the second time, then the ancestor had been talking about the dragon, not Gaven. Perhaps he'd been fooling himself to think that Senya's ancestor could give him anything he sought.
'So that's why you asked about Mendaros,' Senya said.
'Yes. When we were in Shae Mordai, I was overwhelmed with the memory of being there before, walking up those stairs with Mendaros beside me. I remembered him as a good friend.'
'A good friend to a dragon. Hence his disgrace in our family.'
'Yes. You said that he opened the door for an invasion of dragons.'
'He did. I have learned more about him in the last few months, if you're interested.'
Gaven leaned forward. 'Quite interested. Please.'
Senya smiled. 'Well, Mendaros Alvena Tuorren was born in 398, in Galifar's reckoning, just over six hundred years ago. He was born in Shae Cairdal, but by the mid-four hundreds he was wandering around Khorvaire, already sort of an outcast from the family. He was evidently very interested in the Prophecy of the dragons, and in 512 he was involved in the construction of an observatory in the Starpeaks.'
'King Daroon's observatory?' Gaven said. As ruler of Galifar, Daroon had grown obsessed with predicting the future by studying the moons and stars.
'I suppose so, yes. It's not clear to me what his involvement with it was, and I don't know what his connection to the king was.'
'I might have known once.' Gaven wasn't sure how he knew about King Daroon. Was that something he had learned in his studies, or the echo of the dragon's memories in his mind? He shook his head.
'Mendaros only exercised his Right of Counsel once,' Senya said, 'and he brought a friend from Khorvaire-a human, or he seemed to be-with him. I assume that human was actually the dragon you described. Mendaros asked questions about the Storm Dragon, and received answers similar to what you and I heard on our visit. They went on to ask about the Time of the Dragon Between, and the Time of the Dragon Below. Mendaros, apparently, was particularly interested in the Blasphemer.'
'The Blasphemer?'
'My ancestor, in her wisdom, perceived that, while Mendaros's human companion fancied himself the Storm Dragon, Mendaros imagined himself to be the Blasphemer.'
'Dragons fly before the Blasphemer's legions,' Gaven said, and visions of bone-white banners danced in his memory.
'And apparently, as dragons winged across the sea to attack Aerenal, Mendaros commanded a fleet of warships full of his mercenary legions.'
Gaven sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. 'And when was that?'
'That was in 537.'
'So more than four hundred years ago. What happened? You said it was a devastating invasion.'
'It was. Taer Senadal was burned to the ground, and both Var-Shalas and Shae Thoridor were in flames before the dragons were routed.'
Gaven had studied maps of Aerenal before, but the names meant little to him. Taer Senadal was a fortress- he could figure that much from the name. He nodded for her to continue anyway.
'Mendaros made land near Var-Shalas,' Senya continued, 'and tried to bring his legions upriver to the town, but they didn't get very far. He was killed in the battle.'
Gaven rested his forehead in his palm and tried to make sense of this information. The dragon had sought to become the Storm Dragon more than four hundred years ago, and then, when its memories found their way into Gaven's mind, he had followed along a similar path. Mendaros had set himself up as the Blasphemer four centuries ago, and now a new Blasphemer had arisen out of the Demon Wastes. Was the Prophecy fulfilled in cycles, so that every age had its Storm Dragon and its Blasphemer? Or were Mendaros and the dragon deluded, pursuing the Prophecy when the time of its fulfillment was still far off? Or perhaps they were all deluded-neither Gaven nor the dragon actually fulfilled the Prophecy of the Storm Dragon, and the warlord from the Wastes was no more the Blasphemer than Mendaros had been.
Senya got up and stood before Gaven, filling his nostrils with the smells of incense and spice. She held out a hand, and Gaven took it.
'Why did you come here?' she asked again.
Gaven's eyes stung. 'I was hoping someone could tell me what it is I'm supposed to be looking for.'
Senya nodded. 'Come with me.' She squeezed his hand, and he stood beside her.
Senya led him out of her room and back down the stairs, her hand soft and warm in his-so alive, in contrast to the death mask on her face. She led him to the tall doors across from the entrance, and there she released his hand.
'Just a moment,' she whispered.
Gaven watched in silence as she busied herself around one of the braziers outside the doors. Scented smoke billowed up from the coals, and she moved to the other and sent another offering of smoke into the air. Then she stood before the doors and sang softly in Elven. Gaven caught only a few words speaking of honor, reverence, death, and wisdom. She touched a few of the carved images as she sang, and when she was finished with the song the doors swung open like arms reaching to enfold her.
She was smiling when she turned back and extended a hand to him. He stepped forward and took her hand, and she drew him into the interior of the temple. The doors swung shut behind him, and he was in darkness.
His eyes, growing accustomed to the dark, found the dim glow of coals just before they flared to life at Senya's touch. The tiny fires did little to illuminate the cavernous room, though. Gaven wasn't sure what he had
