The variety among the dragonborn struck him for the first time. Their coloration ranged from Lissa’s bronze-gold to dark shades of red, covering a spectrum of golds, browns, and rust along the way. They were generally large and strongly built, but they showed as much variation in height as humans did, even if the shortest of them was as tall as Gaven. Most of them had leathery hide covered with very fine scales, with larger scales on a few areas of their arms and legs. A few had large scales over their whole bodies, like soldiers in heavy armor. The more of them he saw, the more he recognized differences in facial features-the spacing and shape of the eyes, the structure of the frills, width of the head and mouth, and the height of the brow and the length of the snout.
The city itself might have been full of farm hands, merchants, and blacksmiths, but it seemed no less alien to Gaven than the bodies and customs of its dragonborn inhabitants. The city grew like a mountain against the back of the valley, filling the valley floor and then narrowing as it climbed higher to a single palace silhouetted against the sunset at the lip of the valley. Gaven imagined that the structure of the city mirrored the social structure of its people, with the ruler in his palace at the peak, then progressively larger neighborhoods of decreasing status. He wondered if the ruler were a drakamakk, a dragon-king-and if a drakamakk was actually a dragon, or just an exalted dragonborn with a lofty title?
Whoever sat in the palace, dragons were everywhere in the architecture of the city. Dragon heads jutted out from lintels, dragon claws held signs lettered in Draconic, and dragon mouths belched smoke from chimneys. Dragons dominated pediments on the front of larger buildings, and elegant dragons coiled around the pillars that supported them. They snaked along stairways and over archways, and dragon statuettes crouched outside doorways.
All of the buildings aspired to a monumental style-especially the larger stone buildings with their columns and pediments, but even smaller homes were fronted with fieldstone and boasted pillars and sometimes friezes above the doorways. Yawning archways unblocked by doors seemed to welcome guests to every home.
And among all these strange buildings and carved dragons, the dragon-headed people walked the streets, filtered into taverns, closed shops and retreated to their hearthfires. Gaven felt overwhelmed, and suddenly very vulnerable.
As soon as they were inside the city, Lissa dismissed her takarra, who took their scouts off in loose formations toward the heights of the city. When they were gone, she turned to Gaven.
“You are pilgrims, so you will visit and stay at the shrine,” she said. “I will lead you there, and then I will have to leave you for now.”
“What’s at the shrine?”
“You told me you were interested in the Prophecy.”
Gaven couldn’t believe it. “The shrine is dedicated to the Prophecy?” Was it possible that he could find what he sought in a single place, and so soon?
“Of course,” Lissa said, in a tone that suggested she couldn’t imagine any other possibility.
“Then we’ll be happy to visit it. And stay there.”
CHAPTER 19
Kalok Shash!” Vor’s roar resounded in the canyon, and it seemed to Kauth that the earth beneath him shook with it. Clutching his belly as he fell to the ground, Kauth turned to look at the orc.
The giant’s sword was buried in the orc’s shoulder, and Vor was drenched in blood. His left arm hung lifeless at his side, but the sword in his right hand was in the midst of a mighty swing aimed at the stooping giant’s neck. Silver light traced the arc of the blade, and it flared into a brilliant explosion as it struck true. The giant toppled, but Vor followed it down to the ground.
“No no no,” Kauth groaned. He tried to crawl to Vor, but his arms wouldn’t support his weight.
Sevren’s foot slammed into his ribs, knocking him over onto his back. The shifter held his knife poised for a killing blow, but his face showed signs of his internal struggle. He was trying to resist whatever compulsion held him in its grip-but he couldn’t.
Just as the knife began its downward plunge, Zandar leaped over Kauth and into Sevren, knocking him down. Kauth loosed the wand’s healing magic into his body, stopping the blood flowing from his gut, at any rate, though it still left him feeling weak from the blood he’d already lost.
Sevren had the upper hand in grappling the warlock. Though his knife had fallen away somewhere, his claws tore at Zandar. Worse, beetles now swarmed over Zandar as well, burrowing beneath his skin. On the other hand, Zandar completely occupied the shifter’s attention, leaving his back open to Kauth’s wand.
Kauth struggled to his feet and bent over the shifter. As the wand’s magic coursed into Sevren’s body, beetles erupted through his skin and fell dead to the ground, leaving bloody ulcers behind. Sevren stopped struggling against Zandar, and the warlock pushed him off. Kauth bent over Zandar next.
“I’m fine,” the warlock said, pushing him away. “Check on Vor!”
A surge of grief clenched in Kauth’s chest and pressed at his eyes. “It’s too late for Vor,” he said.
“It can’t be! Go heal him!” Zandar’s face was twisted in pain that reflected Kauth’s own and magnified it.
The beetles that still crawled over the earth came together and started building their slender pillar again. Kauth pulled out the fiery wand again, but Zandar snatched it from his hand.
“I’ll kill it,” Zandar said. “See to Vor!”
Kauth couldn’t argue. Dreading what he would see, he picked his way among the swarming beetles to the fallen orc’s side. Fire burst behind him, and he heard the drone of the beetles.
He’d been right-there was no pulse of life in Vor’s neck, no breath in his mouth. His eyes stared blankly at the sky. But in this one place, the sky did not seem so dark. Kauth felt a sudden surge of hope-hope, perhaps, for Vor above all. At the last, he had struck the giant with the power of Kalok Shash. The Binding Flame had not abandoned him.
Another burst of fire made Kauth’s shadow fall across Vor’s face. Then silence. He heard quiet footfalls approach, then Zandar fell to his knees at Kauth’s side. Sevren stood behind them. There was nothing to do but mourn.
Vor’s lifeless eyes stared at the burning sky. Kauth followed them up as if there were something to see, and lost himself in the churning of the clouds, the strange red light, and in memories of Vor.
Zandar was weeping unabashedly beside him, displaying far more affection for the dead orc than he ever had while Vor was alive. The sounds of his cries seemed a fitting background to Kauth’s thoughts.
Vor had died for him. The giant-demon would have killed him if Vor had not charged in when he did. Kauth had put his own life in danger to reclose the Gatekeeper seal in the serpent’s lair and saved his companions, but Vor had been the one standing beside him, hacking off the alien tentacles that wrapped around his neck while he worked.
Why should Vor’s death bother me? Kauth thought. I brought him here to die. The whole plan rests on him dying, along with the others. Along with me. Their lives are playing pieces in a much larger game.
He shook his head, still staring up at the clouds.
“Do it now!” Kelas stood behind her, yelling in her ear. “No one lives forever.”
Laurann stared into her friend’s eyes. She had trained with Kyra for a month. They had been girls together, laughing and laughing over the most foolish things. She had told Kyra things she had never told anyone. Now Kelas was making her kill her friend.