Under Riverrun

"Stable?"

"Yes, my lord. The Alchemists' Guild has a long history. Wildfire is merely one of our many terrifying secret arts. The wonders the wise men once displayed were vast, intricate, and beyond counting... Heh heh... My mentor, Wise Pollitor, believed that the spells for creating Wildfire were less effective than those recorded on the scrolls because magic left this world along with the death of the dragons."

Gryn raised a brow. "President Hallyne, why do you think that is?"

President Hallyne leaned slightly closer to Gryn. "Magic is returning. Perhaps a dragon has already been born somewhere in the world... Heh heh... The world is very large."

Gryn tapped the ruby pommel of Lady Forlorn at his waist with a finger. "Dragons, magic—they say the Citadel does not like them."

President Hallyne laughed soundlessly for a while, his body trembling as though he were immensely pleased. "They are an exceedingly stubborn lot. Those cunning maesters seek to make everyone believe that dragons and magic... things beyond their control... are evil. If... heh heh... you do not care for their views, the wise men would be more than willing to handle them for you. You need only send us there... Heh heh... Riverrun would make an excellent test subject."

Gryn gazed at the towering Riverrun for a while, then patted President Hallyne on the shoulder. "Let's go. I'll be looking forward to your performance."

Gryn settled the Pyromancers who had come from afar in a nearby castle that no longer had an owner and sent elite guards to protect them.

Beginning the next day, under the orders of the broad-minded Lord Gryn, more than ten thousand Crabb Soldiers began pitching camp on the south bank of the Red Fork beneath Riverrun, less than two miles from and right beside the