But time flowed strangely here. Suddenly his head rang. Janna's audience chamber splashed into view. All his senses returned.
Janna lay sprawled across her divan. Geim stood over her, his open hand upraised. He shook his head, slightly glassy-eyed. A red welt was rising on the priestess's cheek.
Toren stared, dumbfounded. Geim recovered his wits and grunted in astonishment. The woman on the divan, though nearly identical in height, complexion, and hair color with Janna, was not the same person. Her body was narrower, her breasts smaller, her chin more angular, her fingers slightly longer. As she groaned and lifted her head into full view, Toren noticed faint lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes, the first traces of lost youth.
She blinked. "I'm sorry, my lady," Geim blurted, helping her to sit up. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't even know why I burst in here."
"You were compelled," she said evenly, gently pressing her cheek. She winced. "That was an excellent maneuver, Toren. Struth and I thought of a number of ways you might break out of the trap. Bringing help from outside didn't occur to us. But it was legitimate-and most important of all, it worked. You passed the test."
Toren heard her words, but their full impact did not sink in. He continued to stare at her in puzzlement. "But your appearance?"
Janna smoothed the delicate lines in her neck. "A gift from Struth-an illusion, like the ocean you see through these walls. I was so wrapped up in the spellcasting that I couldn't do my part to maintain it."
"But why hide your features?"
"Many things are hidden in the temple of Struth. Call this one a woman's vanity." She waved a hand over her face. As it passed, her familiar countenance returned. "You see? Isn't this more attractive?"
"You were lovely the other way, too," Toren said.
Janna smiled. "You are a flatterer. Think of my junior priestesses. They are all stunning. How would it seem if their teacher were less than exquisite?"
"The illusion is perfect," he said, still confused. "After all this training, why I can't detect the magic that maintains it? All this time, I've never suspected you were masked."
"That's because of Struth," Janna said, and rose. "Speaking of whom, if Geim will excuse us, it is time to visit her."
Geim, rubbing his pate, nodded and walked somewhat drunkenly toward the door. When he was gone, Janna opened the entrance to the frog god's sanctum. She and Toren descended into the strange blue depths.
Struth's chamber already blazed with the werelight, boldly displaying her gigantic amphibian contours. "Welcome," the goddess rumbled, broadcasting directly to his mind. "How does it feel to be alive?"
"It is much better than being dead," Toren said. He frowned. It did not seem natural to exchange jokes with a goddess. He blinked several times. Something was odd. The image of the giant frog was blurry, almost smoky. Struth winked. Instantly her outlines sharpened. Their clarity then matched the walls and columns surrounding her.
Toren's jaw dropped.
"Can you sense her spellcasting?" Janna asked.
"No." He described what he had noticed.
"She allowed you to see that," the high priestess explained.
"Magic has many levels," Struth declared. "Though you are an adept considerably beyond the talents of most wizards, there is a great deal you cannot do. Enough. I'll tease you no more. You've passed the test. You have earned the right to see me as I am, and learn my story. First, let me show you how I weave my illusions."
Struth winked again. Immediately an itch flared in Toren's head. No, that was not correct. The itch had been there previously, but he had ignored it. Thin tendrils of sorcery, almost undetectable even now, held a part of his perceptive apparatus bound. He growled and pushed at them. They clung like spiderweb. At first, for each one that he eliminated, three took its place, but he counselled himself to patience and methodically dealt with them. At last he checked the invasion, and after more effort, forced the last of them out. He shuddered, relieved. He looked at Struth.
There was no giant frog in the room. What replaced the illusion was just as big, but the new shape had a serpentlike torso, massive talons, and deep indigo eyes.
Struth was a dragon.
And a very old, crippled one. The flesh of one of her wings hung in scarred shreds, incapable of sustaining flight. Great bags ringed her eyes. The tips of her fingers, at the base of the talons, were dry and deeply fissured. Unlike the brilliant tones of the dragons of legend, her skin was uniformly grey, showing no scales. But even decrepit, Struth was an intimidating sight. Age had not dimmed the incredible depth of her eyes. And Obo had once told Toren that the older a dragon was, the greater its power.
"How?" Toren whispered. "Why?"
"You are ready for my story?" Struth asked.
"Yes."
"At one time I was like other dragons. I lived apart from humans and others of my kind. I ruled an island in the strait between the Dragon Sea and the Sea of Luck. More than three thousand years ago I fought a battle with another dragon, named Triss. As you can see, I lost. I was in estrus, a thing that happens to a female dragon only two, or perhaps three, times in her entire life. I needed a male, and unfortunately the closest available was Faroc, the mate of Triss. Dragons do not usually mate for life. When I seduced Faroc, I did not expect his jealous spouse to attack me. My condition made me weak, and Triss, though young, was powerful. She left me for dead."
"But you lived."
"Yes. Triss did not stay to kill me herself. She had ruined my wings, which eliminated the threat to her sexual territory-dragons mate only in the air-so she decided to nurse her wounds while I bled to death from mine." Struth lifted a great, taloned leg, and Toren could see massive scars across her underbelly. "She rather enjoyed the thought of me taking many days to expire.
"But luck was with me. As I lay, unable to move, growing weaker, a man appeared. This was unusual, since Faroc, Triss, and I did not tolerate humans in our region, and few ever came there. But come he did, and even in my desperate condition, I had the ability to capture his mind. I made him tend my injuries. He found me food and water. It took weeks, but I was eventually able to move, and in time I returned to health, save for my wings.
"Naturally, I could not live as I had. Originally, I tried to reestablish my domain. But this was impractical without flight. Furthermore, Triss discovered my survival. Now that I was recovered, I was able to protect myself from her by retreating within a ward, but eventually she succeeded in driving me away from my lands. It was only then I thought back to the circumstances of my rescue. I had eaten the man when I no longer needed his services, but I realized there were others like him, and through them, I had the means to create a new domain.
"I made one mistake. At first, I did not conceal the fact that I was a dragon. I soon found that humans avoided me. They would run away unless I kept them constantly under my mental control, which grew quite tedious. Thus, over the centuries I created the frog god. Now my temples attract men of influence from far and wide, willingly yielding useful information to my priestesses. In various indirect ways I am able to pull the strings in all the countries of the Calinin Empire, and several beyond. It is not a path I would have ever dreamed of in my youth, but all in all, it has been a comfortable and amusing existence these past millennia."
"And you've managed to hide even from Gloroc?"
"Yes, though as I told you when you first arrived at the temple, he knows there is a being of great power somewhere in or near Headwater, because of the spell I cast to find candidates such as you. Perhaps he suspects another dragon. And perhaps not. Dragons are creatures of the sea. We absorb most of the energy for our sorcery from water. Unless there is a large body of it nearby, our magical strength is greatly reduced. That is precisely why I chose to locate my main temple so far inland-no one would suspect a dragon to be here."