Gamayun, the Dayseer, sits in an ivory tower in the sea of times. Does she sing the future into being, or does she only speak of what she sees? No one knows.
-From “The Tale of the Black Sirin” (Old Tales, Book VII)
CHAPTER TWENTY
A Narrow EscapeTall warriors, robed in grey, faces confined behind black iron helms with no eye-slits, held screaming children over vast fire-pits. The mothers, shrieking in despair, all turned to Voran, asking him that most horrible of questions: “Why?” Tortured forms that once were men—now misshapen freaks with empty eye sockets and bald, bloodied pates where their hair was torn off—huddled around him, reaching for him with blackened nails. The ones without eyes saw him the best.
Tarin laughed, and Voran awoke. Voran’s upper lip twitched. He snarled and ba
