Page 456 of Of Empires and Dust

When he reached the plateau, Valerys lifted a wing and Haem sat on the cold stone, his back resting against the dragon’s warm scales, the rain sheeting down over them, and his brother’s body in his arms.

Valerys let out a low whine and shifted his neck so it curled around Calen and Haem, a lavender eye fixed on the pair of them.

“I’m sorry,” Haem whispered to the dragon.

Valerys’s only answer was to move his head closer, the scales of his jaw pressed against Calen’s side.

Haem closed his eyes, pulled Calen close, and sat there in the rain with no intention of ever rising.

Chapter 105

The Darkness Within

27thDay of the Blood Moon

Temple of Achyron – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Kallinvar stoodat the top of the stairs that led from the temple, looking out at Arden and the dragon curled on the great plateau that overlooked the city.

He had not expected this. All men died. Death was a part of life. Even Kallinvar, with his immortality granted by Achyron’s Sigil, would one day dine in The Warrior’s halls. But seeing Calen Bryer fly astride that dragon, seeing him fight at the Battle of Kingspass and his strength in Ilnaen, Kallinvar had not even considered the young man’s death.

The day truly was drawing near when Epheria would know the last dragon. He let out a long breath, then turned and re-entered the temple. He should have gone to sleep, should have given his body even a few hours of reprieve, but sleep eludedhim. Only three days were left before the Blood Moon set. He would sleep then.

He passed Watcher Timkin in the halls. “Have you seen Watcher Poldor?”

“Not in some hours, Grandmaster. Last I checked, he was in the library.”

Kallinvar nodded and carried on. Poldor could wait. He moved through the halls and descended several sets of stairs until the natural light vanished and the smaller corridors were lit by candles in sconces.

Two priests sat at the end of the long corridor that fronted the cell block. Thankfully, ever since Kallinvar had joined the knighthood, the cells had remained empty. There had never been a need for them. But back during the rebellion, thousands of years before Kallinvar’s time, they had been a necessity.

The two priests greeted him, one – Toka – leading him through the cell block to where Tallia sat on a low cot in a cell barred by iron.

“Has she spoken?”

Toka shook his head. “Not a word, Grandmaster.”

“Leave us.”

The priest bowed and left.

Kallinvar stood there for a long while, looking down at Tallia, who had her knees pulled to her chest and her head down. “How are you?”

No answer came. Kallinvar had come to her both nights since she’d been placed in the cell, and the young woman had refused to say a word.

“Tallia, I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me why.”

Still no answer.

“Who turned you away from us? Was it your father?”

“My father is dead.”

“I know.” Kallinvar hadn’t known who Tallia was when Rurik Andle had fallen and broken his neck three years before. His wife’s heart had given out the year before that. “I’m sorry for your loss, Tallia. There is still a way back. I need you to give me answers.”

Something in the air shifted, and a pulse of Essence swept through the temple, strong enough to set Kallinvar back a step. He drew in a sharp breath at the oily sickness of Taint that touched the air.

“Then ask the right questions.” The voice that left Tallia’s throat was harsher than before, deeper. “Gildrick asked the right questions. He came close. He did. Unfortunately for him.”

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