Klavon continued his siege. Every night, he attacked. Even though the young girl had left—just as he’d wanted—he maintained his ruse.
His plan was working perfectly. Soon Alara would fulfill his needs—Sira had ensured that. He grinned as he summoned a fresh storm of fire, cascading down and terrorizing the town.
The villagers ran, tossing water on the flames, trying to save their pathetic little houses and shops. And as he allowed their success, he laughed. If only they had known just who he was—just how powerful he was—they would have cowered away, running in fear and abandoning their village.
All was working as planned. The curse would draw the boy to him, of that Klavon was certain. And the plight of the village was the first step.