wreckage.
The same power that had broken the Seals in the beginning did this, he realized—the Queen of the Loci.
“Can you fix it?” Rhianna asked, her voice seeming to come from far away.
A tremendous fear welled up in Fallion. The Seal shouldn’t have been here. He knew of no human-born flameweaver who was powerful enough to have recreated the Seal. Only the Queen of all Loci could do that. He worried that she might be near.
In his dreams, fixing it had been so easy. But now, confronted by the abomination itself, he wasn’t sure.
Seeking fuel, Fallion reached up into heaven and grasped the light, pulling it down in fiery cords, letting it build.
He opened his eyes, staring into the wheel of fire, searching for its flaws.
Shapes began to emerge. To a commoner, it would have only looked like a bowl of flames, endlessly burning without a source, but to Fallion, there was meaning within those shapes.
One had to watch, to study the patterns, see where new flames appeared, where old ones died, how they twisted and flickered, how tall they rose. He could read the meanings of their movements if he had enough time to study them. But how much time would it take? Weeks, he suspected. Months. Years. There were runes hidden within runes here, a maze of them. He would have to pace himself, work in short sessions.
Fix the biggest problems first, he told himself.
Blue tongues of flame erupted and spouted seeminglyat random, and white phosphorous airs rose and sputtered. He could hear tongues of flame muttering and cursing in torment at how they had been twisted. But those were mere distractions.
A serpentine incandescence burrowed through the rune, emitting sparks.
It represents the worm at the world’s heart, he realized. But why is it so large?
He followed its shape backward, saw its tail wrapped around the bole of the golden tree, searing it, even as the worm drew away the light from its branches.
What an abomination! he thought.
Fallion hurled a ball of flame, used its energy to sever the tail that bound the world wyrm to the One True Tree. There was a crackling sound, a roar of fire, and the shadows fled from around the tree.
The flames cursed Fallion, and struck back, like some living thing. A blast of heat surged into him, filling him.
Almost, Fallion burst into flames. The inferno begged Fallion to let go, to leave his flesh behind and become one with Fire, as his master had years ago at the battle for Shadoath’s Castle.
“No!” Fallion shouted, knowing that he had no choice but to fight. The Seal of the Inferno was a deadly puzzle. Either he had to heal it, or it would destroy him.
In his dreams, he had always repaired the rune. The dream came every night, and it had always been the same. The flames spoke with a million tongues. In his dream he tamed them, taught them to speak with only one.
He looked to the field where a bowl of flames should be, and saw the flames. But almost instantly they snuffed out, leaving only two.
For a moment, he knelt with mouth agape, unsure how to proceed. This is where he was to bind the worlds, bring all of them into one. But only two flames remained in this bowl. Each flame flickered and swayed in its own dance.
For long seconds Fallion held still, waiting for the other flames to reappear.
The heat continued to build in him, threatening to overwhelm him. He could feel it in the back of his throat. Steam began to rise from his cloak.
Desperate, Fallion lashed out, hurling back the heat that threatened to overwhelm him, and bound the two flames into one.
The fires of the Seal lashed out, roaring toward Fallion, and then died in an instant.
Suddenly all that remained was a ring of smoke rising around the golden tree.
In the ensuing silence, Fallion found his heart pounding and sweat rolling down his face. There was no voice coming from the remains of the fire. There was no voice in the tree.
“Is it over?” Jaz asked.
All around them, the world seemed to return
The same power that had broken the Seals in the beginning did this, he realized—the Queen of the Loci.
“Can you fix it?” Rhianna asked, her voice seeming to come from far away.
A tremendous fear welled up in Fallion. The Seal shouldn’t have been here. He knew of no human-born flameweaver who was powerful enough to have recreated the Seal. Only the Queen of all Loci could do that. He worried that she might be near.
In his dreams, fixing it had been so easy. But now, confronted by the abomination itself, he wasn’t sure.
Seeking fuel, Fallion reached up into heaven and grasped the light, pulling it down in fiery cords, letting it build.
He opened his eyes, staring into the wheel of fire, searching for its flaws.
Shapes began to emerge. To a commoner, it would have only looked like a bowl of flames, endlessly burning without a source, but to Fallion, there was meaning within those shapes.
One had to watch, to study the patterns, see where new flames appeared, where old ones died, how they twisted and flickered, how tall they rose. He could read the meanings of their movements if he had enough time to study them. But how much time would it take? Weeks, he suspected. Months. Years. There were runes hidden within runes here, a maze of them. He would have to pace himself, work in short sessions.
Fix the biggest problems first, he told himself.
Blue tongues of flame erupted and spouted seeminglyat random, and white phosphorous airs rose and sputtered. He could hear tongues of flame muttering and cursing in torment at how they had been twisted. But those were mere distractions.
A serpentine incandescence burrowed through the rune, emitting sparks.
It represents the worm at the world’s heart, he realized. But why is it so large?
He followed its shape backward, saw its tail wrapped around the bole of the golden tree, searing it, even as the worm drew away the light from its branches.
What an abomination! he thought.
Fallion hurled a ball of flame, used its energy to sever the tail that bound the world wyrm to the One True Tree. There was a crackling sound, a roar of fire, and the shadows fled from around the tree.
The flames cursed Fallion, and struck back, like some living thing. A blast of heat surged into him, filling him.
Almost, Fallion burst into flames. The inferno begged Fallion to let go, to leave his flesh behind and become one with Fire, as his master had years ago at the battle for Shadoath’s Castle.
“No!” Fallion shouted, knowing that he had no choice but to fight. The Seal of the Inferno was a deadly puzzle. Either he had to heal it, or it would destroy him.
In his dreams, he had always repaired the rune. The dream came every night, and it had always been the same. The flames spoke with a million tongues. In his dream he tamed them, taught them to speak with only one.
He looked to the field where a bowl of flames should be, and saw the flames. But almost instantly they snuffed out, leaving only two.
For a moment, he knelt with mouth agape, unsure how to proceed. This is where he was to bind the worlds, bring all of them into one. But only two flames remained in this bowl. Each flame flickered and swayed in its own dance.
For long seconds Fallion held still, waiting for the other flames to reappear.
The heat continued to build in him, threatening to overwhelm him. He could feel it in the back of his throat. Steam began to rise from his cloak.
Desperate, Fallion lashed out, hurling back the heat that threatened to overwhelm him, and bound the two flames into one.
The fires of the Seal lashed out, roaring toward Fallion, and then died in an instant.
Suddenly all that remained was a ring of smoke rising around the golden tree.
In the ensuing silence, Fallion found his heart pounding and sweat rolling down his face. There was no voice coming from the remains of the fire. There was no voice in the tree.
“Is it over?” Jaz asked.
All around them, the world seemed to return
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