utensils-had ceased. The Fury was over.
The dark mask covering Zivon's face was gone, and he sat looking up at Yvka as if he didn't quite recognize her, his expression no longer contorted by madness, his features calm, if confused.
The burning sensation on Yvka's forearm had subsided somewhat, but it still hurt. She rolled back her sleeve to examine her forearm, and for a moment she stared in stunned disbelief at the stylized blue mark on her flesh.
Sovereigns! She'd manifested a dragonmark! She recognized it as the Mark of Shadow, one of the dragonmarks carried by both House Phiarlan and House Thuranni.
Zivon recognized the mark, too, and smiled. 'Well, well, well… the Hierarchs will most definitely be interested in this development!'
Zivon held out his hand and, after a moment's hesitation, Yvka reached out to help him up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Two dagger wounds and an arrow in the back… and not one of the blows came from an enemy.' Ghaji shook his head in disgust. 'If someone is ever foolish enough to write our adventures, Diran, I hope they leave this chapter out.'
'I'm sorry, my friend, but I had no choice.'
Ghaji brushed Diran's apology aside with a gesture. 'Of course you didn't. I would've been upset if you'd done anything else. I am, however, grateful that you took the time to heal me before I bled to death.'
While divine magic could raise the dead, priests of the Silver Flame refused to perform that particular feat and nothing could get them to consider otherwise. The Purified believed that once a spirit departed the world of the living, it joined with the Silver Flame. That joining was, in the view of their religion, the Ultimate Good and much to be desired-though of course one's death should never be intentionally hastened to fulfill this destiny, wondrous and beautiful though it might be. Ghaji knew that as much as Diran cared for him, the priest would never raise him from the dead, and while Ghaji didn't share Diran's religion, he respected the priest's views and accepted them.
Diran, Ghaji, and the rest of their companions stood outside in the inner courtyard of Calida's palace. Though the air was chilly, the sky was clear and the sun bright. Statues of rabbits being chased by a fox encircled a fountain. Clear water burbled from the top of the fountain to splash into the basin below. Despite the temperature, the water remained warm so that it wouldn't freeze. According to Tresslar, this was due to the presence of a minor fire elemental that was contained within the fountain. The animal statues were tall as halflings, and they stood on their hind legs, as if they weren't true representations of a fox and hares, but rather people wearing costumes. Ghaji hadn't seen any books during his time growing up in the Eldeen Reaches-who would waste time trying to teach a dumb half-orc to read? But the statues made him think of the illustrations one might find in tales written to delight children.
The animals certainly seemed to amuse Taran. The boy-dressed in a fur-lined doublet, trousers, boots, and a warm cloak-ran laughing from one statue to the next, climbing this one, pretending that another spoke to him in words only he could hear, running to the edge of the fountain's basin and scooping a handful of water to splash on another. The boy played as if he'd never played before in his life, and Ghaji supposed that he hadn't.
Calida stood watching her son, smiling, her eyes moist with tears. The woman had begun crying when Diran first brought Taran to her, and she hadn't stopped since. Ghaji was surprised that she still had any tears left to shed. But then, Calida had been storing her tears for a long time.
'Words cannot express the depth of my gratitude, Father.'
Ghaji was taken aback to hear Calida refer to Diran that way, though as a member of the Order of Friars, the appropriate honorific for Diran was Brother. Sometimes Ghaji forgot that his friend was a priest, and that his position inspired a certain amount of deference from others, even from the non-Purified.
'Words aren't necessary,' Diran said gently. 'Your tears of joy and your son's laughter speak more eloquently than words ever could.'
Calida still appeared tired and weak, but her color had improved, and she was no longer listless. She wore a long fur-trimmed robe, with a hood and large sleeves that, when put together, functioned as a muff. There were no guards within the inner courtyard to keep watch on the Baroness and her son. The courtyard was completely enclosed, and Calida-though she hadn't said so directly-obviously trusted her visitors to ensure the safety of herself and Taran.
Ghaji glanced at the others. They stood a dozen yards from where the half-orc and the priest spoke with the Baroness, watching Taran play and speaking in low tones. Ghaji had been relieved when their companions reached the palace unharmed. According to reports from the city watch, many people hadn't been so fortunate when the full, unfettered force of the Fury had been unleashed on Kolbyr. The watch was still tallying the number of dead. Ghaji had been especially glad to see that Yvka had suffered no injuries, though he'd tried his best not to appear unduly concerned about her when she'd arrived at the palace. Yvka could take care of herself just fine, and she expected Ghaji to respect that-and he did, but he'd still felt like giving her a fierce bear hug when she'd entered the courtyard unharmed.
Tresslar, Hinto, and Solus were also none the worse for wear, though for some reason the artificer seemed distracted, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Probably worrying about his lost wand, Ghaji decided. Ironically, of all the companions, only Ghaji and Asenka had sustained any serious injuries during the Fury. Ghaji had taken dagger blows from Diran, and then an arrow in the back from the priest who'd arrived to help at the last moment. The man sat by himself on the edge of the fountain's basin, looking down into the pool of water within, lost in thoughtful solitude. Ghaji wondered if the priest, who evidently was an old acquaintance of Diran's, was praying. The man, named Leontis, seemed too grim, and somehow too sad to be praying, though.
Asenka had also suffered a number of wounds: the first batch from the palace guards she'd attacked when the Fury had taken hold of her, but the last and most serious injury was delivered by an arrow strike compliments of Leontis. The priest had been forced to disable Asenka to gain entrance into Taran's chamber. Ghaji had expected Leontis to make amends by healing Asenka, but he'd left that task to Diran, who'd also healed the guards that Asenka had come near to slaying. Ghaji had only ever met a few Silver Flame priests besides Diran, but he'd never known any of them to not give aid to others when it was needed. He was puzzled by Leontis's reluctance to heal Asenka, and he intended to ask Diran about it when the two of them were alone.
'If there's anything you need,' Calida said, 'anything at all…'
'There is something you could do,' Diran said. 'Not for us, but for your people-and the people of Perhata. The enmity between your two cities originated from the curse, but now that the Fury has been dispelled, there is nothing to prevent you and Baron Mahir from making peace. Together, your two cities could take full advantage of all the Gulf of Ingjald has to offer, and the Gulf could become an economic power to rival any in the Principalities.'
'Not to mention the fact that your people wouldn't have to kill each other anymore,' Ghaji added. 'Unless they felt like it, that is.'
Calida smiled at the half-orc's joke. 'A hundred years is a long time to hold a grudge. I'll send an envoy to begin talks with Mahir, and we'll see how things go from there.' Before she could add anything more, Taran came running up to her and began tugging on her sleeve.
'Mommy, come splash in the fountain with me!' He lowered his voice and cast a sideways glance at Leontis. 'The man in the robe scares me a little.'
'Of course, sweetheart.' She looked back to Diran and Ghaji. 'If you'll excuse me?'
Diran and Ghaji nodded and the Baroness allowed her son to lead her to the fountain-on the other side from where Leontis still sat brooding. As mother and son began playing in the mystically heated water, Ghaji turned to Diran.
'What's wrong with your friend? I'm not always the most sociable man myself, but even I find it odd that he's keeping apart from the rest of us like that-especially after making such an effort to help us fight the demon.'
'I'm not certain,' Diran said. 'Leontis and I trained with Tusya, and afterward attended seminary together. Although we were once close as brothers, we drifted apart over the years. I haven't seen him since the day I took my vows. It's obvious that something is troubling him, and I suspect it's no coincidence that he is here in Kolbyr the
