Two dozen or more survivors walked or ran in the direction of the camp, some limping, some carrying a fallen comrade, one she noticed crawling on hands and knees. Kyaphar walked among the fallen, looking for any who might still be within life's reach. The fallen, Rienne was pleased to see, were few-at a quick count, only seven, and as she looked Kyaphar stooped over one of the seven and began tending the man's wounds.
She slid Maelstrom into its sheath and fell to her knees. Blackened chitin crunched on the ground beneath her, and even the sound it made was somehow wrong-like the words of the Blasphemer that could not have been words. She gingerly lifted one of the charred husks and examined it. It looked like no insect she'd ever seen, its six thick legs more like a spider's than the wasp it superficially resembled. It bore huge mandibles that pulsed with the poison inside, and the chitin plating its body had an unnatural purplish sheen.
'The Depravation,' Kyaphar said.
Rienne looked over her shoulder and saw him standing behind her, concern etched on his face. 'What's that?' she asked.
'We see it sometimes in areas where the influence of the daelkyr seeps into the earth from the Realm of Madness they call home. It happens when the seals of the Gatekeepers weaken, and madness leaks through, and in places where daelkyr or their brood that dwell in the depths of Khyber make their way closer to the surface. Usually its influence is slight, subtle, and slow.'
'But with the breaking of the seal it's much worse,' Rienne said. 'Bad enough to generate swarms like this in a few hours' time.'
'Exactly.'
Rienne stood up and smiled at Kyaphar, even as tears welled in her eyes. 'I'm glad you survived the battle, Sky Warden. I saw the airship go down.'
'I tried to save Jordhan, but there was nothing I could do. I'm sorry.'
'I understand. Thank you, Kyaphar.'
The Sky Warden put his arms around her and her resolve broke. Tears streamed down her face and she shook with sobs as she thought of Jordhan-the dear friend who had aided and abetted her and Gaven on so many of their adventures, the greatest of which was their grand expedition to Argonnessen-lying dead amid the wreckage of his airship. Kyaphar held her as she wept, and only released her as the tide of grief subsided.
Drying her eyes, she thanked Kyaphar again and hoped that no one at the camp had seen Lady Dragonslayer break down so completely.
Free.
Gaven turned the word over in his mind as he made his way back to Chalice Center, trying not to look like he was in any more of a hurry than would be normal for people in the busy capital city. Ossa had renounced her House's claim on him, declared him free of Dreadhold. Free.
Don't get too comfortable with that idea, he reminded himself.
Mauren had stressed the point that he was still a fugitive from justice, still subject to arrest for any number of crimes. He still didn't have identification papers, let alone formal traveling papers, so he would have a hard time living anything like a normal life.
On the other hand, he was about to travel to Varna to face the Blasphemer. What kind of normal life was that? He had money in his pouch that would buy him a fast horse, he had Mauren's letter that would get him across the river despite Aundair's military presence there, and he had a sword on his back and the storm in his blood, even if his dragonmark was gone, off in the hands of House Thuranni somewhere. There was nothing normal about his life, and really never had been.
Still, somehow, it made a difference to know that he was free-in whatever limited, narrow sense of the word actually applied to him.
In Chalice Center, he haggled with a horse trader as he had done in the years before Dreadhold, no longer caring if he made a strong impression in the man's memory that might help the authorities follow his trail-and he still spent entirely too much of Kelas's money on a magebred horse. Haggling had always been Rienne's specialty.
He thought of Rienne as he bought a saddle and bridle and other gear for his journey, and ended up paying far more than he should have because of his distraction. She'd been held in a jail in Thaliost-he didn't even know why. Jordhan had paid her fines and taken her away, and he didn't know where. Was she looking for him?
Or was she, as he was, drawn to the west by the call of her destiny? Aunn seemed to think he would find her, and the strange waking dream he'd had in Kelas's house suggested it as well-
A demon in man's shape stood before Rienne, lifting a curved sword as the sounds of the world's unmaking spilled from his mouth…
'Are you ill, master?' The shop clerk peered at his face curiously.
'No, I'm fine. Sorry.' Gaven scratched at his neck-his skin was on fire.
'Strangest weather we've been having,' the clerk remarked, turning to look out the window. 'Clear and cold one minute, then clouds and rain, the rumble of thunder like the drums of war. Can't say I like it.'
'Sorry.'
'Well, that's autumn in Fairhaven for you. You know what they say, 'If you don't like the weather, wait a bell and it'll change.'' The clerk laughed.
Gaven paid for his supplies and hurried out to his horse. He bid Fairhaven and its mercurial weather farewell and rode out of the city, delighting in the wind on his face.
Kyaphar spent the night searching for more survivors of the battle and leading them, in groups of three to perhaps three dozen, to Rienne's camp. Rienne tried to rest, but each time a new group approached the camp she rose to greet them, speak to their leaders, make sure the wounded found care, and offer what comfort and encouragement she could. Two other sergeants found their way to the camp, and even a lieutenant, but no one was interested in relieving Lady Dragonslayer of her command. Besides Kyaphar, Rienne discovered one more druid among the survivors, a white-bearded man named Fieran. By dawn, she was in command of an army of just over two hundred and fifty, according to Cressa's enthusiastic report, and a council of two druids, four officers, and Rienne herself-with Cressa at her side as her aide-gathered in a large tent that someone had erected for Rienne's use.
Rienne decided to dispense with any pleasantries or introduction. She waited until the elders and officers were gathered in the tent, entered with no introduction or fanfare, and asked, 'Who can explain to me what happened yesterday?'
Kyaphar frowned. 'The Gatekeepers' seal was broken.'
Fieran snorted into his beard. 'Obliterated would be more accurate.'
'What do you mean?' Rienne asked.
Fieran leaned back in his flimsy chair, steepled his fingers beneath his chin, and looked up at the roof of the tent. 'Ordinarily, when we see one of the Gatekeepers' seals break, we observe a gradual process by which the energies of the Realm of Madness slowly begin to eat away at the seal, break it down slowly, until it is weak enough that they can push it aside, as it were. This was different.'
'It was sudden, immediate,' Rienne said. 'What else?'
'It was completely undone. There is nothing left, no residue or remnant we could hope to use to begin repairing it. It is as though the seal simply never existed.'
'And what happened when it broke, or vanished?'
'You saw it,' Sergeant Kallo said. 'You were there. The land erupted.'
'Yes, that's what I saw. But I want to know why it happened. Did something emerge from the ground, pushing the rock out before it? What came out?'
'From what I could see,' Kyaphar said, 'what came out was madness and chaos. I didn't see a daelkyr come forth, or any of their brood. But I have never seen the Depravation spread so quickly or so far.'
'So there is no horrible spawn of madness rampaging across the Reaches?'
Kyaphar shook his head. 'Not as far as I could see from the air. But remember, I was dodging boulders spewed up from the earth. I could have missed much.'
Rienne nodded, her fingers idly toying with Maelstrom's hilt. 'Kyaphar, you told me before that the Blasphemer's path took him across the Reaches from Gatekeeper seal to Gatekeeper seal. The seal he broke
