Failing the Test of Siberys had given Gaven an excuse to pursue something different, and Rienne had given him the opportunity. Together they explored the depths of Khyber-still working for House Lyrandar, but in a way of his own choosing. With Rienne at his side, he had never worried much about his future, as long as she was in it.
He saw Rienne at his side in Khyber’s depths, holding a flickering torch up so he could read the words scratched into the cavern wall.
The Eye of Siberys lifts the Sky Caves of Thieren Kor from the land of desolation under the dark of the great moon, and the Storm Dragon walks in the paths of the first of sixteen.
He saw a great mass of stone suspended in the air, floating above a blasted wasteland. A storm churned the sky above him, and he thought he saw a dragon wheeling in the air. A flash of lightning showed him bronze scales.
“We march, Gaven. Come!” Haldren’s barked command jerked him out of his vision, and for a moment he was in his cell in Dreadhold. Then the walls dissolved into jungle, and he scrambled to his feet.
They walked through the jungle in the cold light of the Ring of Siberys, Cart and Senya leading the way. Gaven counted his footsteps as he’d done in the exercise yard in Dreadhold, trying to keep his mind from straying. His count approached three thousand before Haldren finally called a halt and ordered Cart to pitch their tents.
Gaven helped Cart set up the camp, partly to keep his mind off other things, and partly because he simply enjoyed the quiet company of the warforged. They built a fire, which Darraun used to cook another fine meal. Gaven realized that he hadn’t eaten since their luncheon in Whitecliff that afternoon, and just the smell of Darraun’s cooking was a delight.
“In the morning we return to Khorvaire,” Haldren announced as they ate.
“Where are we going next?” Gaven asked.
“Senya and I discussed that question earlier, and I am of the opinion that Darguun is the best possible destination for tomorrow’s journey.”
“Darguun?” Gaven asked. “The goblin lands?”
“Indeed,” Haldren said. “Are you aware of the rebellion that carved the lands of Darguun as an independent entity?”
“I knew of the rebellion, yes. But I assumed that those lands were destroyed along with the rest of Cyre.”
“They were not. And the goblin leader, Haruuc, was recognized as ruler of a sovereign nation in the treaties that ended the war. It remains something of a frontier land, though, which is why it suits our purposes. We should be able to do business there without interference from the dragonmarked houses and their agents, who are presumably still searching for us across the length and breadth of Khorvaire.”
“Darguun it is, then,” Gaven said.
Haldren scowled at him. “I am glad you approve. And now we are going to bed.” He got to his feet and extended a hand to Senya. “I suggest you all do the same-it has been a very long day.”
Senya took his hand and kissed it. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she said, indicating the remainder of her meal. Haldren’s scowl deepened, and he disappeared into his tent. Darraun took his pots over to a nearby stream to clean them, and Cart started patrolling a wide circle around the campsite. Gaven supposed he’d do that all night.
With a glance at the tent where Haldren waited for her, Senya set down her platter of food and reached for a large bundle beside her. Gaven watched as she pulled out a greatsword in a fine leather sheath and brought it over to him.
“I picked this up in the city,” she said with a smile. “I thought you’d like to be armed before we get into another fight.”
“Thank you, Senya,” Gaven said. “That was very thoughtful.” He pulled the blade a little way out of the sheath and admired the fine edge and elegant scrollwork. The pommel bore a skull decoration, which seemed fitting-given both the elves’ preoccupation with death and the purpose of any weapon.
Senya stared into the dying fire. “I’m still a little confused about what happened back there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder toward Shae Mordai. “Have you really been here before?”
“I think your ancestor mistook me for someone else.”
“That hardly seems likely, does it? We go to them for their wisdom.”
Gaven shrugged.
“Do you think Vaskar is really the Storm Dragon, Gaven?”
Gaven looked at her, and she turned from the fire to meet his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think I’ve seen him in my dreams, the color of his scales.” The color of his scales-that thought sparked something in his mind. The Bronze Serpent…
He shook his head. Here and now, he told himself. Stop living in dreams and memories.
“I thought he was at first,” Senya said, “but I don’t think so any more.” She looked back into the fire.
“You think this is all a fool’s errand?” Gaven said. “Then why go along with it?”
“Well, even if Vaskar fails, Haldren still has a chance at getting what he needs. And besides,” she said, “I didn’t say it was a fool’s errand.” She looked at him sidelong. “Want to know what I think?”
“What do you think, Senya?”
Haldren bellowed from inside the tent. “Senya!”
She leaped to her feet but stopped to look down at Gaven again. “I think the Storm Dragon is you.”
CHAPTER 11
When Darraun returned from the stream, he found Gaven staring into the embers of the fire. He saw Cart walking his tireless circle outside the camp, and waved to him as he came near. He sank down on the fallen log beside Gaven.
“Quite a day,” he said.
Gaven made a sound a little like a laugh and nodded.
“This time last night I was landing a wyvern on top of Dreadhold.”
“How did you end up a part of all this, Darraun?”
“Haldren figured the group needed someone with my skill set, to work on Dreadhold’s defenses. And help keep everyone alive, I suppose. He planned the whole thing from his cell, you know.”
“How did he do that? We were kept in the Spellward Tower-he couldn’t use any magic there.”
“Not in his cell, no. Except the magic of his tongue. You’ve probably noticed by now that he could talk a sphinx into answering its own riddle for him. So partly he persuaded the guards to help him out. And he also used some magic to talk to Vaskar, when he was out of his cell for exercise and such. Again, he talked his way out of the usual restraints and the constant supervision.”
Gaven shook his head. “So he told Cart and Senya to find an artificer, and they got you?”
“Senya talked to people in Aundair who were loyal to Haldren, and my name came up.”
Gaven turned to look at him-a little too closely, Darraun thought. “You made sure your name would come up,” Gaven said.
Darraun let a trace of a smile show on his face. “What do you mean?” he said.
Gaven shrugged. “So are you a true believer in Haldren’s cause? Anxious to see him sitting on the throne of a new Galifar? Or are you just along for the ride?”
“Something like that.”
“Something like which one?”
“What were we talking about?”
Gaven arched an eyebrow at him and stopped asking questions.
“So,” Darraun said, “now that you know all about Haldren’s plans, what are you going to do?”
“Do?” Gaven scratched his chin. “At this point, it seems I’m along for the ride whether I like it or not.”
“I take it you don’t like it.”
“It’s better than Dreadhold, but I don’t look forward to spending the rest of my life on the run from Sentinel Marshals. If I’m going to be free, I’d like to be really free.”
“And you think helping Haldren will get you there?”
Gaven scoffed. “No. I think helping Haldren will get me dead.”