— and then she understood, she saw, As she watched in horror, the darkness in the stone drew together to one spot. At the lateral fault it stood, staring at her. Dracon though she was — immense, terrible — she aban-doned her pounce and crouched down like a bird under a serpent's eye.
The Shadow smiled at her, baleful, and waited. Herewiss didn't waste his opportunity. Swollen with rage, he towered over her in the stone with Khavrinen upraised, ready to destroy her. (Come on!) he cried in an ecstasy of fury. (Stop me, if you're such a power! Try to stop me!)
Segnbora didn't answer. It was impossible to look away from the one Whose essence lay concentrated in the fault, waiting for Herewiss to strike and bring the valley down around their ears.
Herewiss's rage didn't diminish. He merely lowered Khav-rinen a bit to savor her fear, to prolong the sweet conflict— and in that moment abruptly felt what she did. Immediately his tone changed. (Beware! We have company!)
It flowed out into the stone again, surrounding him, unwill-ing to give up such a splendid tool. Segnbora felt Herewiss founder and go down, and couldn't stir so much as a thought to help him. The Shadow was after her too, flowing into the dark, places in, her soul that had
belonged to It since she was very small. Relentlessly, It inflamed them alclass="underline" her anger at a life that, didn't go exactly as she wished; her old feelings of impotence and insignificance., . She fought, back. If she lei It, it would, enter her and cause
her to trigger the fault, which in turn would bury the valley, killing her friends and enemies alike. That couldn't be al-lowed. Desperately, she thought of Lang, of Eftgan — lovers who had taught her laughter. She pictured Freelorn, beautiful Freelorn, who demanded so much and gave so much in return. . She wasn't alone!
The realization was dangerous. Her opponent changed its tactics from persuasion to direct attack: a blast of hatred and pain that would have killed her in a second had she been in her own body. Fortunately, she was not. She pulled her Dra-con-self closer about her, wearing it like mail. Hatred, even the vast hatred of an embittered God, meant little to a Dragon who had experienced the Immanence from the inside, with all its joys and rages regarding all things mortal and divine.