Read Rise of the Seventh Moon: Heirs of Ash, Book 3 for Free Online

so any time while we were in Metrol. Maybe the Mournland was blurring my judgment as well, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I have no problem with the decision Tristam made, though I regret the outcome.”
    “Then why did you say what you said?” she asked.
    “Because Tristam’s emotions deserted him,” Dalan said. “He was exhausted. With no enemy in sight, he had nothing to dwell upon but his failure. But you know Tristam. You know there’s one thing that will always fire his sense of righteousness.” He looked at her shrewdly.
    “You want him to hate you,” Seren said.
    “He needs it,” Dalan said. “He has to draw strength from something. If he cannot draw it from within, then let him draw it from hate.”
    “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
    “Because sometimes I
am
motivated by cowardly self-interest,” he said, looking at her alertly. “The last time you perceived me as a danger to Tristam, you threatened to kill me.”
    “I remember,” Seren said. She met his gaze, unflinching.
    “Then you do not intend to kill me?” Dalan asked.
    “Not at the moment,” Seren said.
    “Excellent,” Dalan said. “You’ve made my day, Miss Morisse.” He bowed to her, popped his cap back atop his head, and began to walk away.
    “Dalan,” Seren called to him.
    He looked back over his shoulder.
    “Is Omax really dying?” she asked. “Or was that another lie?”
    “The halflings said no such thing, but I have known enough healers to recognize when they can do no more,” Dalan said, “but if anyone can save Omax, it is Master Xain.” He smiled at her,tipping his hat as he walked away through the village. “Good day, Miss Morisse.”
    Seren watched Dalan go, uncertain what to say or think. Part of her wanted to climb back onboard the ship, to tell Tristam that Dalan hadn’t meant what he said so that he wouldn’t feel so terrible. The stronger part of her knew that Dalan was right, that Tristam needed to be angry right now, needed to push through his weakness. In either case, Tristam wouldn’t believe her if she told him. He was so used to being abused and manipulated by Dalan. The idea that the guildmaster was now manipulating Tristam for his own good would be inconceivable.
    And as much as Seren hated to admit it, part of her felt that Tristam deserved Dalan’s barbs. They had been so close to finishing this. With the
Dying Sun
destroyed, Marth would have been unable to complete the Legacy. The race to stop the changeling from completing his mysterious plan of revenge against the Five Nations would have ended.
    It seemed the closer he came to understanding Ashrem’s work, the more Tristam changed. At first, it was small. He became more impatient and cynical. After leaving Zul’nadn he had grown even more withdrawn, less idealistic. Everything came to a head in Metrol. What had happened back there? It was strange, like a haze had fallen over everyone. Looking back, repairing the
Dying Sun
instead of just destroying her and escaping the Mournland had been foolish. Yet, at the time, no one disputed it but Ijaac. It had seemed like the right thing to do.
    The dwarf warned that the Mournland created illusions to make people crazy. Maybe that was it, and maybe Tristam wasn’t the only one to be affected. Ashrem d’Cannith’s “ghost” didn’t want the Legacy to be destroyed. Had it influenced them all, somehow?
    Seren slid a hand into her boot and drew out the golden badgeIjaac found in Metrol. It had belonged to Haimel Gerriman, the
Dying Sun
’s first mate. Two of Ashrem’s ships had vanished into Cyre just before the Day of Mourning. Neither ship crashed, but only Marth and Kiris Overwood survived. What had happened to the rest of the crewmen?
    Seren sighed and tried to stop thinking about it. If she kept agonizing over unsolvable mysteries, she was going to drive herself mad. There was no purpose to worrying about what might have been when there was so much gone wrong that