“Did Haldren know you were helping me?”
“I imagine the general saw me go to you, and I expect that he was not pleased. But that doesn’t change my duty to him.”
“Didn’t you once tell me that he’s not a forgiving man? Will he even accept you back?”
“If he does not, then I will have to examine my options. Assuming I’m still alive.”
“Gaven,” Rienne interjected, “if Haldren is free, we have to stop him.”
“No. First, because that would put us directly at odds with Cart, and I choose not to oppose him. Second, I don’t believe that Haldren is a significant threat to the world any longer. At least not for now.”
“Darraun said Haldren would try again someday.”
“Perhaps he will, and perhaps we’ll be there to stop him. On the other hand, perhaps Bordan and the dwarves will catch up with him first. I have other concerns.”
Cart stood. “I will say farewell, then,” he said. “I would prefer to tell Haldren honestly that I know nothing of your plans, in case he has vengeance in mind.”
Gaven got to his feet and extended a hand to the warforged. “Thank you, Cart.” They shook hands. “For everything.”
“Thank you,” Cart said. “You have taught me much.”
Gaven arched an eyebrow, but Cart turned and bowed to Rienne. “Farewell to you.”
“Goodbye,” Rienne said, returning his bow.
Cart turned back to Gaven and bowed again. “Farewell, Storm Dragon.”
Gaven bowed, but he couldn’t find his voice until after the warforged had gone.
To Gaven’s great relief, the Eye of the Storm rose readily off the ground at his command. He tasted again the thrill of flying, bringing the airship up almost to the overhanging clouds while starting toward the north and east.
“What other concerns?” Rienne asked at last, leaning back in her accustomed place against the rail near the helm.
“First of all… you,” Gaven said, smiling at her. “Whatever I do next, I want you with me.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll be with you.”
“Thank you. That means more to me than you can imagine. But I won’t hold you to it-you’re always free to change your mind.”
“Gaven, you sound so serious!” she said with a small laugh. “What are you planning to do, cross the Dragonreach?”
“Well, Bordan would have a hard time finding me in Argonnessen.” He smiled. “Actually, that is what I’ve been thinking.”
Rienne fell silent in the middle of a laugh. “What? Getting away from Bordan?”
“No, visiting Argonnessen.”
“Are you mad? Do you want to be dragon food?”
“I pity the dragon who thinks me an easy meal.”
“You want to study the Prophecy at the source.”
“Yes. I’ve already learned much that concerns a great deal more than Haldren’s little coup and Vaskar’s grab for divine power. The Time of the Dragon Above is drawing to a close, but it’s just the first chapter of a larger story.”
“And what part do you play in the larger story?”
“I am both player and playwright, Rienne.”
“What part will you write for me, then? The supportive wife?”
“Sovereigns, no! No, Rienne, you set a greater destiny than that in motion the day you first laid a hand on Maelstrom. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m looking forward to seeing how you write it.”
“To Argonnessen, then.”
Gaven smiled at her and nodded, trying to banish the visions of carnage from his mind.
EPILOGUE
General Yeven pushed the door open and held it for Haldren to pass through. He took some satisfaction from the bruised skin on the side of the old man’s face, the eye that was still swollen shut. Haldren walked into the dark room a little hesitantly, all the swagger gone from his step. Perfect.
Yeven followed Haldren in, closed the door, and leaned against it. “General ir’Brassek, I believe you are already acquainted with Kelas ir’Darran.” Right on cue, a dim light flickered to life on a desk across the room, and Kelas’s face appeared in the dark.
“You?” Haldren sputtered. “Was Yeven working for you all along? You dare bring me here?”
Yeven grimaced. Haldren’s spirit was not quite as broken as he had hoped.
“Shut up, Haldren,” Kelas said with a small smile. “You know I couldn’t answer your invitation to Bluevine. I can do much more from my current position than I could if my inclinations became known. I’m a spymaster, not a general.”
“A spymaster, indeed. I suppose Darraun worked for you, then?”
Good guess, Yeven thought.
“No,” Kelas said. “We believe he was a Thrane agent, which might account for the disaster on the Starcrag Plain.”
That was the story they’d agreed on. Reinforce his sense of failure, keep beating him down. Make him pliable. It was working: Haldren didn’t have a ready response. He looked down at his hands.
“Listen, Haldren. It was a disaster, but it’s not the end.” Haldren looked up, a hint of spirit returning. “We can’t afford to try a direct military approach again-neither you nor General Yeven has enough support left in the army to launch another attack. But we still have allies, and we have other means at our disposal.”
“The Arcane Congress?” Haldren said hopefully. Arcanist Wheldren had withheld any support from Haldren’s initial strike, but he had promised future support if the attack went well.
“I have spoken to both Arcanist Wheldren and Ashara d’Cannith, and we have begun forging new plans. Your assistance could help bring those plans to fruition.”
“My assistance.” Haldren looked back down at his hands.
Yeven nodded slightly. Haldren understood the full weight of the words: he would no longer be in charge of this affair. He would be helping Kelas. Would he accept? Was his spirit sufficiently broken?
“Very well, Kelas,” Haldren said at last. Yeven broke into a smile. “I will give whatever assistance I can.”
“I’m very glad to hear it, General ir’Brassek.” Kelas stood behind his desk and extended a hand to Haldren, who took it and shook it. He seemed almost grateful.
General Yaven’s smile was genuine. The changeling wearing the general’s face was pleased.