Rindek appeared in the doorway. “Oh, yes. I have been awaiting this opportunity. Is the cliff ready?”
Demeti looked dubious. “I finished the preparation yesterday. But are you sure the timing is right? Do we have enough materials?”
Rindek lifted his lips back from his sharp teeth. “We have enough, but we need more crystal darts.” His gaze lit on Ash. “Chain him to the rocks. We are done with him, and will need the table to assemble them.”
Demeti’s frown deepened.
“Do it now,” Rindek ordered his son. “I don’t care what you do to him—just make sure there’s nothing left for anyone to use.”
His son brightened, peeling his own lips back in a grin.
Rindek left the lab, crossing the room and disappearing out the far door with the Seer in tow.
Ash watched Demeti approach with resignation. The pain from the parasite was excruciating, and it never ended. But Rindek’s preoccupation over the last few days had given his brain a chance to heal. Enough so that he’d recalled who, and what, he was.
The young Torshin unfastened him from the table. Ash was so weak, he couldn’t stand. With a hiss, Demeti propped an arm beneath his and yanked him out the door.
The cold air slammed into them. As he was dragged down the path, Ash’s mind fastened on the Dragon, and the Mover.
His dreams did not reveal themselves in images from the past. They were merely memories, and so fragile that the energy bursts usually destroyed them.
But this time, heremembered.Somehow, Rindek’s destructive energy had missed destroying this precious recollection. It was tattered and no longer complete, but still there.
They’d been in his dream, the one where he’d almost, finally, accepted death’s sweet embrace. But they’d stopped him. The Dragon had a name, and he was sure he used to know it. After saving him from his death plunge, both the Dragon and the Mover had wrapped their energy around him and pulled him back from the brink.
He was only peripherally aware of Demeti fastening him to the cold stone. At least being injected with parasites had stopped some of the physical abuse. The young Torshin seemed afraid of close contact with any bodily fluids.
The Torshin ripped away his clothes, leaving him naked to face the storm. Ash didn’t even have the energy left to produce his scales. He closed his eyes and focused on his dream.
The Mover. She was the key. In some of his timelines, the harbinger of doom. In others, the savior.
In none had he foreseen her personal connection to him. That her energy would envelop him and make him feel safe.
His own future had always been the most difficult to see. But those two figures were connected to him. Could they save him?
Demeti loomed over him. “Your time is at an end,” he snarled. “But let’s have some fun first, shall we?”
With resignation, Ash saw Demeti lift his now-glowing hands.
If the Dragon and the Mover came for him, they would be far too late.
* * *
Tyrez paced the clearing in Cara’s garden.
If he was doing this as a Dragon, he’d have worn through the paving by now. The wait was nearly intolerable. Where was Razir?
Cara was still digging through the samples, looking for something that would help Tyrez convince his brother, but it wasn’t looking as though she was going to find it. Dani was, thankfully, fast asleep. She didn’t need to be part of this, and if she was awake, he’d have a hard time stopping her.
She was as fierce as a Dragona.
It seemed like an eternity passed before the gate energy rippled over his skin. Tyrez stopped pacing and stood waiting by the bench.
Six Dragons strode toward him in human form but clad only in scales. The four behind Taran were clearly bodyguards.
Guarding against what? Did Taran really think Tyrez would attack him?
One look at his eldest brother’s face, and Tyrez realized that was exactly what Taran thought. What could Tyrez hope to gain from that?
