Except that as Cart stared at it in horror, one of its eyes fixed on him, and one by one the others joined it until the thing's entire fractured gaze focused on him.
You can see me. Its voice manifested in Cart's mind as the buzzing of a thousand insects in imperfect unison. Why can you see me?
Cart cast his eyes around in a panic, looking in vain for Ashara. The quori was advancing on him, slithering and squirming among throngs of souls-some screaming in terror, some staring in shock, some cowering on the ground and covering their heads, and a few, most frightening of all, just observing without a hint of fear.
Why can you see me? the quori repeated. Its voice became the hissing of a hundred snakes, a whispered threat of poison and death.
Cart reached for his axe, but it was not at his belt. He looked down at his body and saw not armored plates protecting fibrous cords, but skin-delicate, light brown skin stretched over muscles and organs, held up by a framework of bones. He was naked and defenseless as the quori surged forward.
A small, soft hand clutched his arm, and he wheeled to see Ashara, concern but not panic written on her face. For a moment, his skin tingled with fire at her touch, and he wanted to take her in his arms, heedless of the danger. But metal plates interposed between his skin and hers, spreading from her touch to cover his body again, to encase him in his armored shell.
"What's wrong?" Ashara said.
Close your eyes, whispered the voice in Cart's mind, a rustle of feathers. Pain stabbed through the back of his head, where it met his neck, and his vision blurred for a moment.
Cart turned, but the quori was gone. The storm-Gaven's storm-still rumbled overhead, but its lurid colors and deadly fire were gone. The buildings of Fairhaven stood where they always had, as their inhabitants slept their troubled sleep, feeding the quori with their nightmares.
"Cart, what is it?" Ashara's touch was still soft and warm.
"The turning of the age draws near," Cart said. "Come on."
At first Gaven felt the wind on his face, just the resistance of still air against his sudden movement. Then the wind stirred around his feet as they hit the flagstones, and then it blew at his back, carrying him along through the streets and alleys. Thunder rumbled in the sky, lightning flashed around him, and a torrent of rain began to fall.
I am still the storm, he thought. They stripped it from my skin, but it's still mine.
He heard shouts behind him, but a rumble of thunder drowned out the words. He didn't know where he was going-he'd never known Fairhaven as well as Stormhome, and it had changed far more during the years he spent in Dreadhold than his old home had. His first thought was simply to draw them away from Cart and Ashara, and it seemed he had accomplished that much. Beyond that-well, he needed a plan, and it was hard to come up with one while running at top speed in the midst of a raging storm.
It was all too easy to get lost in the storm. The wind that carried him so he barely touched the ground, the rain cascading around him, the lightning that flashed above-he felt each gust of wind and rumble of thunder in the depths of his body, like the beating of his heart and the flexing of his muscles as he ran. He felt like a thunderhead surging across a lake…
He saw Varna lying in ruins beneath him, laid waste by the fury of his storm. He saw the two would-be assassins lying charred and dead in Chalice Center, and the shattered glass of Kelas's window cutting into his knees. He saw the wreckage of the Dragon Forge, torn apart by the hurricane of his wrath, in retribution for what it had done to him.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," Cart had said as they parted.
What am I looking for? he wondered.
He'd been determined to find Rienne, but perhaps he wasn't ready to find her. For a moment he'd held her close to his heart, and in the next instant he was caught in the fury of the storm. If that had been Rienne, he might have killed her. He had become a force of destruction, wild as the storm-particularly, it seemed, since the Dragon Forge had stripped his mark from his skin. He couldn't risk hurting her.
In his mind, he was racing on the wind through the streets and alleys of Stormhome, Rienne at his side, leaving Bordan and Ossa's team of dwarves behind them. Then he was running, free for the first time in decades, through the Aerenal jungle, racing to the Eye of Siberys.
In Aerenal, Senya's ancestor, long dead but enshrined in unlife in the City of the Dead, had recognized him-or, rather, the dragon whose memories were stored in his mind-from a past visit, some four or five centuries before he returned with Senya and Haldren. "Twice you have come to me now," she had said. "The third time, you will finally find what you seek."
A plan formed in his mind, as much raging storm as conscious thought, and he chose a path through the streets of the city.
CHAPTER 21
Good evening," Aunn said. He tried to find just enough warmth for his voice, with a hint of excitement about the news Nara had promised, without revealing any hint of his fear. "What is it?"
"I'll tell you in a moment." Nara's smile, tiny and distorted in the glass orb, struck him as odd. There was too much of the predator in it, and Aunn couldn't be sure whether Aurala was the prey or he was. "You first."
Behind a bemused smile, Aunn tried desperately to think. He had to trust that the secret of his identity was safe with Thuel-they had agreed that he would continue playing Kelas's role in the unfolding drama. But he couldn't count on any other secrets. Anything that anyone knew-anyone besides himself and Thuel-Nara could find out.
"It's been an interesting day," he said, and sighed. Nara gave the slightest nod, and Aunn knew he was right-she already knew much of what had made it interesting.
"Gaven emerged from his stupor," he said, "and escaped my control."
He braced himself. If this was a surprise to Nara, she would almost certainly erupt in anger.
"So I have heard," she said.
Aunn tried not to let his relief show, even as he wondered who her source was. "Thuel has involved himself in the matter, and sent a team of agents to capture him this evening. I haven't been told yet whether they were successful."
"They were not."
Who could have told her that before anyone told him? One of the agents Thuel sent?
"That's unfortunate." Aunn measured his response, just as Kelas would have done. Nara had started the conversation on a cheerful tone-she wasn't as angry as circumstances seemed to warrant, so there must have been something important she hadn't told him yet. "What happened?"
"Gaven killed two of the three agents, right in the middle of Chalice Center. In full view of a dozen witnesses. I'm surprised you haven't heard yet."
"As I said, Thuel has involved himself. He's watching me very closely, and evidently not telling me anything. It will pass. It always does." That was fair-Kelas had been through similar periods before, when Thuel decided in a fit of pique or jealousy to involve himself more closely in his underling's affairs. It never lasted long.
"Don't you want to know how I know all this?" Nara said. She was smiling, and Aunn found it unsettling.
"I've never been naive enough to assume I was your only contact within the Royal Eyes."