Dragon Forge: The Draconic Prophecies - Book Two Read Online Free

than most dragons. I have the power of the Storm Dragon at my command. If the world is careening toward disaster, I have a responsibility to try to stop it. No one else can.”
    Rienne’s gaze dropped from his eyes to his neck, to the top of his dragonmark emerging from his shirt. Gaven saw a weary sadness settle onto her face, and his heart ached.
    “Perhaps I’m fated to be the supportive wife after all, trailing behind you and helping in any way I can.”
    Gaven cradled her cheek in his hand. “No, Ree.”
    “It’s what I’m born to, really. An heir of the Alastra family, which has always served the Lyrandars and always will. I followed you through all those adventures into Khyber. And when you were gone I did my family duty.”
    Gaven dropped his hand to the hilt of her sword, but she grabbed his wrist.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded.
    “Let me see your sword.”
    “See it or hold it?”
    “Just see it.”
    Rienne released her grip on his wrist, took a step back, and lifted Maelstrom for Gaven to see. She held it delicately with both hands, almost reverently. It was an exquisite blade, the finest example of an art that had long been forgotten. Intricate patterns wove across the flat of the short blade, complementing the faint blue damask of the steel. Both sides carried razor-sharp edges, and it tapered gracefully to a deadly point. The guard was carved in the stylized form of a dragon’s head, as though the blade emerged from its mouth. A pair of wings arced down around the blade. The hilt was wound with smooth leather, and the pommel resembled the dragon’s tail, curled around an enormous blue-white pearl.
    “It’s a beautiful weapon,” Gaven said.
    “Yes. What about it?”
    “Is this the weapon of a supportive wife?”
    Scowling, Rienne swung the blade around—dangerously close to Gaven’s face—and slid it into its sheath in one smoothmotion. “It’s my sword, so perhaps it is. What’s so damned important about Maelstrom? You said something about it before.”
    “The day you first touched that sword, you set a course for a much greater destiny. It’s a sword of legend, Ree. Great things have been done with it, and more greatness will yet be accomplished. Can’t you feel that?”
    Rienne slid the sword, still in its sheath, out of the silk sash wrapped around her waist. She ran a hand lovingly along the leather scabbard and its gold tooling. “Of course I can. But the greatness of my sword says nothing about me. If I fall in battle tomorrow, some other hand will wield this sword—perhaps the greatness will be theirs.”
    Gaven shook his head. “It’s the sword of a champion. No lesser hand could wield it. You won’t even let me touch it.”
    She clutched the scabbard to her chest and looked down at the floor.
    “You and Maelstrom are linked in destiny,” Gaven said, “as surely as you and I are.”
    “There’s comfort in that, anyway.” She looked up and met his eyes, and a smile spread across her face.
    Just as Gaven bent to kiss her, Jordhan appeared in the hatch.
    “Are you two still in here?” the captain said. “We’re starting to circle the Seren Islands—you should come see. There are precious few who have ever laid eyes on these shores.”

C HAPTER
3
    K auth stared out the window as the coach approached Varna. The Wynarn rushed past in the opposite direction, gray with the grime and muck of the city, carrying it north to Eldeen Bay. Across the river was Aundair, the stretch of woodland that stood on the banks of Lake Galifar. He found himself wondering if he would ever lay eyes on Aundairian soil again. Then he shook his head to dispel that thought and looked around the carriage again.
    His travel so far had gone exactly according to plan. He rode an airship from Fairhaven, Aundair’s capital, to the last town on Aundair’s side of the river, Wyr. Under cover of darkness, he walked a few miles upriver and found another agent—he didn’t know the woman’s