The question hung in the air between us, and for a long moment, Dorrik did not answer. The light in the stone flickered, and I was finally able to trace that this flickering was because of the forge.
As it turned out, there was fire burning in the forge, but the flames were invisible, and what was even more strange was that this fire did not seem to be drawing from the flame essence in the air, and if I had not been watching every change in that hall, I would never have known there was fire in it at all.
The more I watched, the more I was able to see the fire casting shadows across the hall, and I glimpsed those shadows moving across the stone-carved face of Dorrik, and for a moment he looked like something ancient and unknown."
I would have been a fool if I did not understand that this old man before me was powerful, but I did not yet know what he was; for the moment, he was not my enemy.
"A name," he said slowly. "You want its name."
"Yes."
