"Where did I go wrong with him?"
"You were always too quick to punish him, Kelas. You made him hate you. He was always loyal, but to the crown, to his work, not to you. Did he try to kill you in the end?"
"He did." Aunn was amazed-Nara's words echoed many of his own thoughts of the last months.
"So you were forced to kill him. That must have been difficult for you."
"No." That was a slip-he'd answered from his own perspective, not Kelas's. Was that the right answer?
Nara laughed. "Well, some of my lessons stuck at least. I must say, Kelas, I was growing worried that you were too attached to him, just as he clearly cared too much about you."
What had Kelas thought about him? "He was extremely useful."
"He was, and his last mission was his greatest. The Blasphemer rises." Something shone in her eyes for an instant, then they turned back to steel. "So why did you flee to Fairhaven? Who's in command at the forge, or what's left of it? I assume the excoriate didn't manage to kill every last soldier there."
"I had to get the excoriate away from there before he did any more harm."
"You said he's in a stupor, and the forge is destroyed. What more harm did you fear?"
"I don't know how long he'll stay like this, and I want him locked up someplace where he can't escape."
"Why Fairhaven? It's too dangerous. He could be seen and recognized, and without his mark…"
"Speed. Arcanist Wheldren used the circle portal at the forge to bring the queen back to the palace, so I could get here quickly."
"How did you activate the portal?"
"With the assistance of a Cannith artificer."
"So House Cannith knows you're there."
"Yes." He had, after all, marched defiantly through House Cannith's Fairhaven headquarters.
"With the excoriate?"
"Yes." Aunn thought of the way that Harkin ir'Cannith's eyes had lingered on Gaven.
"That's less than ideal." She scowled. "Still, I can see why you did what you did. Who's in command at the forge?"
"No one. It was in chaos when I left. I know I should have-"
"Yes, you should have. But you didn't, so that's the situation we have to address now. We need those soldiers, however many are left, and we need them marching back to Fairhaven as soon as possible. Send Tolden-is she still alive?"
"I believe so." Aunn hadn't seen Janna Tolden at the forge.
"Send her and Wheldren to clean up the mess down there. You get Gaven locked away-he must not escape again. We need him in place when the time is right for the reunion. And then move ahead with the next stage of the plan. Is there anything else you need to tell me?"
What plan? "I think that's everything," he said.
"Good. You know better than to lie to me, Kelas. Nothing can hide from these eyes."
He felt a surge of panic-was there something in her voice when she said his name? He was sure she'd seen through his disguise. But why not call him on it? He leashed his fear and nodded. "Of course. I won't fail you."
"I know. I'll contact you tomorrow night. I have to get out of here before too long. I don't want barbarians at my doorstep just yet."
Where was she? He had a vague memory that she'd retired to the west after the war, perhaps to Wyr, north of Varna on the Wynarn River. "How long until they reach the river, do you think?"
"Two or three weeks, I expect. But they'll be driving the Reachers out of their villages soon, and we'll see a flood of refugees across Aundair's borders. With Varna destroyed and all." Something about her smile sickened him-that was part of her plan. She'd arranged for the destruction of Varna so that the Reachers couldn't take shelter in its walls when the barbarians approached. Why?
"Until tomorrow, then, Kelas."
He still didn't know how to address her. "Tomorrow, then."
The light in the globe faded, and the distorted reflection of the room replaced Nara's image in the glass. Aunn dropped his head to the desk, taking comfort in the cool stability of the oak against the pounding in his temples.
"What was that all about?" Gaven said.
Aunn looked up. He'd all but forgotten Gaven was there. "I have only the vaguest idea," he said. "But one thing is clear-this plot doesn't begin and end with Kelas. I need to learn more."
"You could just disappear. We could all get far away from Fairhaven, out of Aundair entirely-"
"No." His eyes met Gaven's, and he smiled. "We have to prove Bordan wrong."
"What?"
"I was trying to tell you before that it's not your fault-that you're not responsible for the crime they sent you to Dreadhold for."
"But I am," Gaven said.
"You are. Just as I'm responsible for all the things Kelas made me do. We've both done some evil, Gaven. But together we're going to make it right."
Gaven returned his smile. "Does that mean you're not going to lock me up, then?"
"I wouldn't dare try. I saw what you did to Malathar."
Cart had never feared a city street at night. He understood that fear-he'd known other soldiers who never made it back to camp after revels that went too late in the wrong parts of town. A drunk soldier was unable to defend himself and made a tempting target.
But a warforged was never drunk. A warforged soldier during the war was the army's property and didn't go into town for rest and recreation. And even a lone warforged was a daunting opponent, sure to be a tough fight for a group of thugs, and rarely in possession of enough coin to make the risk worthwhile. The worst he'd had to face in the past had been taunts, the derision of people who thought of warforged as inferior beings. Sometimes they threw garbage at him with their insults, but he just walked on in silence.
Havrakhad, it turned out, wasn't concerned about thugs, either. He carried himself through the dark streets like a proud warrior, though he held no weapon. Still, there was fear in his voice, fear that took root in Cart's mind as well.
"The turning of the age draws near," Havrakhad said. His eyes scanned the sides of the street. "The dreams of your people grow dark indeed."
Cart shrugged. "I don't sleep," he said. Ashara's tight grasp on his arm, though, suggested that the kalashtar's words resonated with her.
"But you have felt the tumult of fear when those around you dream in darkness," Havrakhad said.
Cart remembered long nights during the construction of the Dragon Forge, and he nodded.
"Are you saying there's some kind of epidemic of nightmares?" Ashara asked.
"You do well to compare it to a disease," Havrakhad said. "It's a symp-tom-a sign, a harbinger of the evil that is coming."
"What do you see in your dreams?" Cart asked him.
"My people, like yours, do not dream, though we sleep. We are exiles from the Region of Dreams, for the masters of that place are our enemies."
"Who are they?"
"The quori. Ensconced in human vessels, they rule Riedra. But in their true form, as creatures of nightmare, they are the lords of Dal Quor. My people are kin to them, but we have chosen to fight against their tyranny and guide the world into the next age of light."
"Are they responsible for what happened to Gaven?" Cart asked. "These nightmare lords?"
"No-at least not directly. There was a fragment of an evil presence in the dragonshard that bound him. But without question the quori were aware of it and drew sustenance from it. Just as they are feeding now on all the nightmares in this place."
Something in the way the kalashtar's eyes ranged over the city around them, just above the streets, set Cart on edge. The fear that had gnawed at his mind seized him in a surge of panic, and he felt suddenly beset by enemies on all sides-foes he couldn't see. He drew the axe from his belt, just to feel the comforting weight of it in his hand. Havrakhad chuckled.