The stormcaller

Isak looked at the inscrutable features of the dragon, then at the two tu

Reaching the tu

Isak tore his attention away from his Master and concentrated on the smell of magic. He took the left-hand tu

The dark lines of the room melted away. All he saw were the silver curves of Siulents, beautiful as a dream, even laid out in pieces. Each delicate plate and link was a craftsman's joy. The lines of each piece

followed the muscular shape of a warrior's body, but with a sinuous grace that was almost inhuman. The helm was a single piece; its near-blank features showed a weirdly distorted reflection of Isak's face as he held it up to inspect. It looked like a mirror version of Bahl's mask, but not one that would mould to the wearer's face. It had two ridges, ru

Pushing the image from his mind, Isak moved to the sword and closed his fingers around the double-handed grip of Eolis, tightly wrapped in pure white silk and bound with an emerald filigree that emanated from the massive emerald set into the hilt. Six silver claws shaped like talons gripped the emerald securely. The guard was a circular piece of ivory that looked to be fused into the blade itself.

As Isak marvelled at the blade, he realised that the poor working Kerin had claimed was nothing more than the echo of this sword reaching up into Isak's mind. Without knowing it, some part of his soul had recognised Eolis. The smith had given the sword honest praise, but Isak knew now how far short of the mark it had fallen. The weight of the blade was almost imperceptible, yet as he moved Eolis through some basic forms, listening to the soft zip as it neatly cut the air, he felt a surge of strength in his arm. Isak realised that this blade would cut through even the pieces of rock littering the floor in Genedel's chamber.

There was a rough leather sheath beside it, Farlan-designed, of plain black leather, which presumably Lord Bahl or Lesarl had left for him. Pulling off his boots and shirt, Isak quickly dressed in the under-suit Bahl had given him. He hesitated before touching Siulents again, but as he started fitting the armour on to his body, he felt a note of exhilaration trembling; building up as each piece clipped into place. The silver took on a seductive, liquid quality as he flexed his limbs to test the freedom of movement, and even more remarkably he could not see the seams between plates, only an unbroken curve.

A smile broke over his face. This wasn't what he had expected; instead, his body felt cocooned in a second skin, only slightly constrained, and coupled with an intoxicating sense of invulnerability. Isak hesitated when only the helm remained. It was tradition that helms were only for battle; ancient belief held that a hidden face displayed hidden intentions. Wealthy knights would often have their visors made into savage and grotesque faces to further the distinction between a man of war and a person of civilisation.

Though he wanted badly to try it on, the sound of voices in the main chamber broke the spell and, gathering up his clothes, Isak bundled them together and laid them inside the shield, cushioning his helm.

As Isak entered the dragon's lair, Bahl broke off his conversation and stared, almost wavering with shock. 'Gods, Aryn Bwr was well named; quicksilver indeed,' he exclaimed. A rumble from deep inside Genedel's throat echoed agreement.

Isak just stood, unable to put what he felt into words. He held up Eolis, drawing it from the sheath to show Bahl the glitter of white light that shone out, even in the dark, green-tinted depths of Genedel's cavern. His expression was one of bemused helplessness. 'These really are the last king's weapons, aren't they?' Now you know why the elves have come. The Land has envious eyes for such beauty.

'We ca

Bahl didn't respond. His huge frame suddenly seemed small, deflated, even. His eyes ran down the gleaming blade, over the smooth curves of Siulents – and he gave a small nod. Stepping forward, the Lord of the Farlan reached into his belt. Isak tightened his grip on Eolis, feeling a spasm of shame as Bahl produced a piece of blue cloth.

'I have no such gifts to offer you, but I feel there is something-' He didn't finish the sentence, but held out a hood identical to his own. 'May it keep you safe in other ways.'

Isak nodded his thanks and placed the shield and Eolis carefully down on the ground. He slipped the hood over his cropped scalp. The silk hung loose briefly before tightening around his head, covering his nose and mouth but somehow not impairing his breath. There was an enchantment on it so subtly woven he'd not noticed it until then.

'Give me your hand.' Isak cocked his head at the strange instruction, but held out his right hand, changing it to the left at the old

lord's request. Bahl pulled off his gauntlet – the silver parted without resistance – and then the glove underneath.

He held Isak's hand palm up, inspecting it for a moment, before suddenly whipping a dagger from his belt and slashing down. Isak cried out in surprise and pain, but Bahl kept a tight grip on his wrist and pulled his Kra