James Wyatt: Dragon forge

A line of people filed out of the iron building, and Aunn backed away from the edge. He found some cover and watched them walking to the edge of the canyon, then crouched down and peered over the edge. The people turned and began climbing a path along the canyon’s edge, and Aunn gasped as he recognized Kelas at the front of the line. His head pounded with anger. The group had climbed well up the path before Aunn realized who else was in the procession. He recognized Arcanist Wheldren from Haldren’s gathering in Bluevine, but the woman beside him was unfamiliar. The woman surrounded by a knot of soldiers, though-that could only be Queen Aurala.

What in the Traveler’s ten thousand names is she doing here? Aunn thought.

They were approaching his hiding place, so he withdrew to a point where he could safely see the plateau overlooking the canyon. A few moments later, Kelas emerged from the path and led the cluster of people to a circle scratched into the ground. Arcanist Wheldren busied himself retracing the lines of the circle, which must have been nearly obliterated by the storm, as the queen and the other woman talked together. Kelas stood back from the pair, but Aunn could see the look of smug satisfaction he wore. Clearly, whatever had happened here was a part of Kelas’s greater plan, but it was a part he had kept secret from Aunn.

Wheldren was preparing the circle for a ritual of teleportation, Aunn realized, which meant that Kelas would soon be out of his reach, and he didn’t know where. He entertained thoughts of attacking Kelas where he stood, the queen and her soldiers be damned. Suicide. Charging into the circle as Wheldren completed the ritual, teleporting along with them? The same. What if he put Haunderk’s face back on and approached Kelas as a friend? Kelas had sent him to the Demon Wastes to die-there was no reason to think he would not order Haunderk’s death more directly.

His anger and hatred paralyzed him, and he cursed himself for it. Wheldren began his ritual, and it was too late. He might be able to knock Kelas out of the circle at the last moment-but then Kelas stepped out on his own, bowing a farewell to the queen. Another moment, and Kelas stood alone on the plateau, looking tremendously self-satisfied.

Aunn stood from his crouch and stepped around the boulder that had shielded him. It took Kelas a moment to notice him, but his sword flew into his hand while Aunn was still some distance away.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“You don’t know me?” Aunn said. “I’m an old friend, Kelas.”

“I’ve never seen you-” Kelas’s eyes went wide. “Haunderk?”

Aunn changed his face, and he was Haunderk. “Very good. A lifetime of suspicion has served you well.”

“Haunderk! Your mission was a success!” Kelas smiled, but he didn’t drop his guard as Aunn drew closer.

“It was. Kathrik Mel is on the march, probably spilling over the Shadowcrags at this moment.”

“I commend you. Everything is falling into place.”

“The barbarians have sacked Maruk Dar. Soon they’ll set the Towering Wood on fire. If everything goes according to plan, they’ll meet the armies of Aundair somewhere in the midst of the Eldeen Reaches. And then what, Kelas?”

“Then we’ll crush them, and the Eldeen Reaches will sing the praise of their liberators.”

“What if we fail?”

“We won’t,” Kelas said. He nodded toward the canyon. “The Dragon Forge ensures our victory. And that’s enough questions. Come with me, and we’ll discuss your next mission.”

“Why don’t you just stab me in the back this time? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“Tempting.” Kelas took a menacing step forward, sword in his hand. “But you’ve got more use in you yet.”

Aunn slid his mace from his belt and hefted it. “True.” He charged, swinging his mace to bat Kelas’s sword aside and slamming his body into Kelas.

Kelas staggered backward, caught off guard by the sudden attack. “Haunderk!” he snarled. “You’ll pay for that!”

“I already have. I’ve paid over and over for the privilege of killing you. I’m done paying now.” He caught Kelas’s cut on the haft of his mace. He changed again, donning the face of General Jad Yeven.

“I own you,” Kelas said. “You will obey me.”

“Oh, I forgot. You hate looking at dead people.” Aunn changed again, taking Kelas’s own face. “Here’s another dead face for you.”

Kelas roared. He had long ago forbidden Aunn from wearing his face, a lesson he’d beaten hard into a young changeling. Aunn sidestepped a fierce thrust, but Kelas’s blade still bit into his arm. Aunn brought his mace around into Kelas’s side in return, doubling him over as he staggered back.

“That’s enough,” Kelas said. “This is no longer a matter of punishment. Drop your weapon now, or I will have to kill you.”

“Kill me?” Aunn took Kauth’s face. “You’ve tried to kill me already. You sent me to the Demon Wastes to die, but I didn’t die. Maybe I can’t die.”

“We’ll see.” Kelas charged again. His sword went wide, and he took another blow in his gut.

Aunn felt that he was watching the battle from outside his body, totally calm as Kelas grew more and more furious. It was a game, and Aunn knew he was going to win.

He took Laurann’s young and pretty face. “You made me a killer. Kill or be killed. No one lives forever.”

“So you remember some of your lessons,” Kelas said. “But you’ve forgotten what happens when you disobey.”

Aunn stepped forward, swinging his mace back and forth, forcing Kelas back. “I have not forgotten.”

Kelas stumbled on the rocky ground, and one more blow sent him sprawling on his back. His sword clattered out of reach. It was over.

Aunn took Faura’s face. “Who do you want to kill you, Kelas? Does this form still arouse you? Do you want this beauty to kill you?”

Kelas tried to scramble away and get to his feet, but Aunn slammed a foot down on his throat, pinning him to the ground. He wore Haunderk’s face again. “Or this one? You still think of me as Haunderk, don’t you? You gripped my child hand and drove my blade into Ledon’s throat. It was Haunderk you taught how to kill.”

“Please…” Kelas whimpered.

“You’re begging for your life? You don’t know remorse or shame, Kelas. That’s what you taught me.”

He wiped his face clean. Colorless eyes set in blank, gray skin. “My name is Aunn,” he said.

With one swing of his mace, it was over.

Gaven emerged from his hiding place and called to Kelas’s killer.

“Changeling,” he said.

The figure whirled around, holding his mace on guard. When his pale eyes fell on Gaven, though, he lowered his weapon.

“You killed my enemy,” Gaven said, “so I’m willing to call you friend.”

The changeling’s face changed. A mouth appeared and formed a smile. “I’m glad, Gaven.” The face resolved into Darraun’s. “I hoped I’d find you here.”

“Darraun.” Gaven didn’t know what to think. A changeling was made for deception. Gaven had just seen this one adopt no less than six different faces, and he or she had clearly worked for Kelas before turning on him. How could he trust such a being? Maybe the Darraun standing before him was the same Darraun he’d known, but maybe it was just a fellow spy of Darraun’s, one who knew Darraun’s face and his connection to Gaven.

The smile fell from Darraun’s face, and he took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry, Gaven. I wish I hadn’t deceived you the way I did.”

“So do I,” Gaven said. “I trusted you.”

Darraun’s brow furrowed. “Even though you knew what I was?”

“I was a fool.”