Dragon War: Draconic Prophecies by James Wyatt

Author:James Wyatt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Action & Adventure, Fantasy fiction, Fiction, Prophecies, Fantasy, General, Dragons
ISBN: 9780786951222
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2009-08-04T11:47:07+00:00

CHAPTER

24

Wind and thunder followed Gaven through the streets of the city. If soldiers were still chasing him, they had only to follow the beacons of lightning that flashed over him. It didn’t matter—he couldn’t have stopped the storm if he had wanted to, and if his plan somehow worked, he would soon have sanctuary of a sort.

He had never known Fairhaven especially well, and he hadn’t been in the city in more than a quarter century. But the elves of Aerenal preserved traditions stretching back ten thousand years—he doubted that their descendants in this city had moved their little enclave since the last time he’d seen it. The trick would be finding his way there, once he left the old, straight streets that defined the basic pattern of the city.

Those streets, like the spokes of a wheel with the palace at its hub, brought him quickly to the southwestern part of town, then he lost himself in a maze of smaller streets and alleys. The storm’s fury died as he tried to navigate through the neighborhood, as the panic of his flight faded into perplexity. If pursuers still followed him, they had lost their lightning beacon.

So many new buildings filled the area that he began to question whether he could be in the right place, unless the Aereni had abandoned their enclave. Then he decided to turn down an alley he had already walked past twice, and suddenly he was there. One moment, the buildings crowding close on either side were freshly plastered white apartment homes, smooth, window-less walls rising high overhead, but a few steps later the alley widened into a little courtyard paved with ancient flagstones, and the buildings on its three sides might have been transplanted directly from Aerenal. Built of exotic woods, the buildings rose in tiers topped with sculpted spires and magical flames that washed the square below in dancing green and purple light.

Apparently unwilling or unable to trust Fairhaven’s city watch to protect their little enclave, the elves had their own soldiers, gaunt warriors in ornate armor, carrying poleaxes with elaborately carved, probably impractical heads. The elves stood at attention as Gaven blundered out of the alleyway, shifting their grips on their weapons. The one on the left, Gaven noticed, bore a tattooed skull design that obscured his true face, making him look like one of the deathless. He fixed a wary gaze on Gaven and scowled. The one on the right, though, was already dead—his withered flesh clung to his bones and dim green flame flickered in his eye sockets.

They didn’t immediately accost Gaven—they were probably accustomed to people stumbling into their little enclave, looking around incredulously, and hurrying back out. Gaven didn’t see anyone else in the courtyard, so he steeled himself and approached the soldiers.

“Have you lost your way?” the living soldier asked coldly. He spoke Common with a thick accent.

“I know where I am,” Gaven answered in the best Elven he could muster. “I—” What was the correct phrase? “I invoke the right of counsel.

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