by James Wyatt
And as he held Maija, Janik remembered what the Keeper of the Flame—no, what the Silver Flame itself had said to him in Thrane five months before: “What you have lost lies still in those ruins, still within your grasp.” He offered a silent prayer of thanks to all the Sovereign Host, to the Silver Flame, to the couatl of Mel-Aqat, to every power of holiness that had played any part in bringing Maija back to him.
EPILOGUE
With an almost audible pop, the dwarf appeared in a comfortably appointed chamber.
“Home, sweet home.” He sighed, walking to stand in front of a tall mirror, shedding his pack and bags and pouches as he went. Fidgeting with the silver serpent in his hands, he looked at his reflection—covered with the dust and dirt of two months spent traveling through the Wasting Plain and the Golden Desert. Blood was still crusted in his beard, which was, at least, still neatly trimmed. He set the torc on his dresser, put his hands to his cheeks, and breathed a deep sigh, exhausted and deeply relieved that he was able to use magic to expedite his return to Fairhaven.
He took off his clothes, first draping his long coat over the back of a nearby armchair, then his vest, and his frilled shirt. He left his high boots on the floor, placed carefully together. Stripped down to his breeches, he turned again to the mirror.
He liked this body. Dwarves were solid, strong. He liked the feel of the muscles, the firmness of the skin, vaguely reminiscent of stone. And Auftane had a fine sense of style.
But it was time to bid Auftane farewell. He sighed and watched in the mirror as the reflection changed.
The squat, solid form of the dwarf grew taller and much thinner. The dark brown skin faded gradually to tan, then pasty white with freckles. He enjoyed the freckles and paid close attention to their pattern on his skin. The neat beard and waxed moustache disappeared, and he rubbed a slender hand over his smooth chin. His shoulder-length black hair became short, tousled, and sandy brown.
He always saved the eyes for last. Finding just the right shade of amber took him several attempts, then he stepped away from the mirror, taking in his full reflection.
“Welcome home, Haunderk,” he said to himself. “You need a bath before you can report to ir’Darren.”
He made his way to the door of his suite and rang the bell that would summon a servant to fill his bathtub. His eyes fell once more on the silver torc, shining on the dresser.
“And won’t Kelas be pleased with you.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Wyatt is an award-winning game designer at Wizards of the Coast and one of the designers of the EBERRON® Campaign Setting. He has co-authored numerous roleplaying game products, including Magic of Incarnum™, Sharn: City of Towers™, Draconomicon™: The Book of Dragons, and Book of Exalted Deeds™. He grew up in Ithaca, New York, and now lives in Washington State with his wife and son.
IN THE CLAWS OF THE TIGER
The War-Torn • Book 3
©2006 Wizards of the Coast LLC
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Map by Rob Lazzaretti
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2005935539
eISBN: 978-0-7869-5661-6
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