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She nodded, her expression satiated. ‘I do. Safe.’
‘Will you yield them, when this night is done?’
‘Do you ask it of me?’
‘I do.’
‘For you then, Brood, yes, I will yield them. But what of you? Are you proof to these mundane fires?’
‘For
a time,’ he replied. ‘Enough. Your daughters hide.’
‘You hurt them badly.’
‘And if I finish it?’
Olar Ethil laughed. ‘Draconus cannot hate you more than he already does.’
‘And you?’
She shrugged. ‘I am here, am I not? Protecting these two mortals.’
‘From your daughters? Or from the fire you so eagerly unleashed?’
‘Both.’ She waved a languid hand, the motion making a roar. ‘You built well. Too good a home for the likes of me.’
‘Your vengeance, then, for his having rejected you. That, Olar Ethil, is petty.’
‘Beware the scorned woman.’
‘Then why save Ivis and the boy?’
The woman was silent for a time, eyes narrowed to slits as she studied Caladan Brood. ‘Not the path I chose.’
‘The Finnest in the tower?’
Slowly, she nodded. ‘Do you wish to know more?’
‘Is it my business?’
‘No, I think not, brother. I’ve done little thus far. Made use of a weak mind, too fragile for this or any world. No. This is between Draconus and me.’
‘I did not know you parted with such vehemence.’
‘We didn’t. Until his servants betrayed me. I gave of myself. I made a gift. I took into myself a tortured soul, and brought it peace. For this blessing, that soul’s companions delivered terrible pain.’ She paused, and then waved the hand a second time. ‘Look about you, Caladan. See how even your gift to Draconus has been twisted. Those who would stand near him – each and all will end up suffering.’
Caladan Brood tilted his head as he regarded her. ‘You have cursed him.’
‘He curses himself!’ The scream was an eruption of flames, transforming the chamber into an inferno. She then laughed. ‘Best leave now, brother!’
‘And your daughters?’
‘I will drive them out – is that not enough? Leave their fate to their father – he deserves no less!’
Nodding, Caladan Brood strode into the flames, making for the front doors. The fire sought to devour him, only to flinch back on all sides. This demanded some effort on the High Mason’s part. With each step he took, the flagstones cracked beneath him.
* * *
