"But a Dragonlance—"

The Ergothian cleric held up a hand for silence. "We have twenty Dragonlances, correct?"

"Plus the footman's lance," Huma quickly added.

"Twenty lances. All we need are twenty men. I think Paladine is watching over us. If there are only twenty Dragonlances, then there is a reason. If we are to obtain more, Paladine will see that we do. If our faith is strong, twenty lances or a thousand, we will triumph." Lord Oswal looked at Huma. "He's right."

Huma studied those assembled in the room. Kaz, Buoron, and Avondale would follow him on this. He needed only sixteen other men. "Let there just be the twenty, then." More than one eyebrow was raised at that. Huma did not wait for questions, instead plunging immediately into his thoughts.

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"Buoron, Kaz, milord Avondale. I know that you three will join with me. You know the Dragonlance; you know what it can do. If twenty lances are all that stand between us and defeat by the Dark Queen, then we should thank Paladine we have even those and use them to the utmost."

"You should have been a cleric, Huma, for your faith is stronger than any I have ever known." There was no mockery in Lord Guy's tone.

There was a knock on the Grand Master's chamber door, and one of the Knights of the Rose who made up the ruling knight's guard entered. "Grand Master, Knight Bennett wishes to speak with you."

"I summoned him from the Keep walls some time ago. Where has he been?"

"He did not say, milord."

Lord Oswal glanced at Huma and then nodded slowly. "Allow him to enter."

"Milord." The guard spoke to someone in the hall and then stood at attention. Bennett, looking more like his father than Huma had ever seen him, stalked imperiously into the room. He saluted his uncle deferentially and acknowledged the presence of the others politely, though he stared long and hard at the Ergothian commander.

"What is it, Bennett?"

"Unc—Grand Master, I have been studying the Dragonlances." The elder knight's expression darkened. "Who gave you permission?" Some of the imperiousness vanished. "I did it of my own accord. I could not help it, after you spoke to me of it following Huma's—his disappearance." Bennett looked at Huma as he talked, but the latter could read nothing in the stiff, hawklike features.

"And?"

His nephew's eyes widened, the mask fell away, and both Huma and Lord Oswal were astonished at the wonder that spread over Bennett's face as he spoke. "They were smooth to the touch—so smooth they must cut the air effortlessly. I've never seen a point so sharp, nor a metal so bright—so alive. I've heard that many doubt the authenticity of the lances, but I cannot believe but these were sent to us by Paladine, through his chosen champion." For the first time ever, Huma felt a deep respect emanating from the Grand Master's nephew, and directed at Huma himself.

Lord Oswal was no less surprised. Kaz snorted quietly in derision, but the look Bennett threw him caused him to stop immediately.

"I want to be one of them, Grand Master. I counted but twenty and I know not if we will have any more, but I want to be one of them. It is what I have trained for—to give myself in service to the Triumvirate and to Paladine, I will face any test if needed to prove I am worthy." Bennett exhaled and his shoulders slumped. He had bared himself to all present and now awaited judgment.

The Grand Master looked from Huma to Avondale and then back to his nephew.

"Knight Bennett, you are, I see, the son of my brother— my brother before the strain of leadership tore us apart. If you can but remain as you are now, I see in you what many have always believed—that you will be among the first and best in our ranks." Bennett's shoulders stiffened in unconcealed pride. Oswal continued, "If you would truly be what we all strive to be, then I ask that you make your example this knight here—" he pointed at a stunned Huma—"for he is the embodiment of our teachings, whether or not he believes it so himself."

"Am I then—"

"You are, and I charge you with a special task. Find others like yourself, from all three Orders and numbering fifteen total, who are willing to believe in the strength and will of Paladine and who will ride the skies with the Dragonlance before them." 150

Bennett nearly stumbled toward the door, then turned to his uncle. Lord Oswal waved him off. The Knight of the Rose departed with haste.

Bennett did exactly as he was told. He sought volunteers from all three Orders and chose them based on merit and belief, not whether they were loyal to him, as he would have done prior to his father's death. Among the volunteers were veterans and near-novices. Included by Bennett, surprisingly enough, were three knights who lacked limbs or were permanently disabled, all from the war. Had this been peacetime, Lord Oswal would have given these men work in the Keep, something to keep them active but away from awkward situations. Now, though, every man who could fight was needed. Men who had lost a leg could still ride and swing a sword. One useless arm still meant that the knight could use his other. A Knight of Solamnia did not quit until he was either triumphant or slain. Had they eliminated such men from the ranks, the available forces in the Keep would have been cut by nearly a quarter.

With the retreat of the Dragonqueen's forces from the vicinity of the Keep, lines of supply reopened, albeit sporadically. Awaiting their first opportunity, knights in the southern reaches shipped food and raw materials. It was dangerous going, for the ogres and dragons still harried the routes, and some wagons never completed their journey. The mountains to the west were ominously quiet, and Huma found himself staring at them, on and off. Magius was still out there, and Huma still felt the desire to attempt some sort of rescue. Waiting in the Keep for whatever Galan Dracos and his mistress plotted next irked him.

It might have been easier if Gwyneth had been with him, but she had not returned since that one night. Huma had taken to conversing with the silver dragon. They spoke only when alone together, for the presence of the other dragons guarding the Keep—and especially the silver dragon's two siblings, who watched Huma intently each time he came around—embarrassed him.

She listened to his every word and answered his questions with such intensity that it was often easy to forget he was speaking with a creature vastly larger and more ancient than he. At the same time, she seemed filled with a sadness that Huma was never able to identify. He pressed her only once on it. When Huma had probed too far, the great dragon had turned and moved away without another word.

Huma could not explain the reasoning behind the feeling that had surged through him then, but he somehow knew that the sadness which had become so much a part of the leviathan was due to him.

He was careful never to bring up the point again, for fear of what truth he might discover.

Three days passed, and then it was as if the heavens themselves had erupted. Knights in the Keep pointed skyward, and the murmuring began. Though they would deny fear, many turned pale as they remembered the last time the sky had looked like this. Huma rushed to the battlements, Kaz and Buoron close behind him. Both Huma and the minotaur stared through narrow eyes at the horror before them. Buoron, having come from the southwest outpost, had not been present at that time, but he studied the scene and then turned to his companions, seeing for the first time the looks on their faces. Turning pale himself, he asked, "What does it mean? Why is it so black?" The rolling darkness, which had nearly lost the war for the knighthood in that earlier battle, spread slowly toward the outermost lines of defense. The winds around the Keep were building to a pitch.

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CHAPTER 26

"The Dragonlances! We must fly now!"

The others were gathering even as Huma and his companions entered the courtyard. Bennett looked to him as an aide might look to his commander. Here, Huma was in charge. The dragons were there, also. They had had trouble in choosing who would join with the knights. Unlike the humans, all the dragons volunteered. It was the silver dragon who finally chose, she being most closely associated with the lances. Her choices were not questioned, for each of the volunteers was picked on the basis of past performance and physical endurance. There were silver ones, bronze ones—Bolt being the most vocal of these—and even a gold dragon.

More than enough saddles had been made and the well-trained knights were already finishing with that part of the preparations. Someone also had thought to secure the footman's lance to the silver dragon Huma would be riding.

When all was ready, Huma turned to see everyone waiting. Then he grimaced, realizing that they were awaiting his orders. Even Lord Avondale, who Huma felt was certainly a more qualified flight leader, was deferring to him. Turning forward and assuring himself that all was secure, Huma kicked the silver dragon lightly and gave the signal to depart.

What an impressive sight, he thought, as he momentarily turned back to look. The twenty dragons made an arrowhead formation with Huma at the point; Kaz and Bolt were to his left, a little farther back, and Buoron was to his right. He could not see Lord Avondale, who was flying to the rear.

His thoughts were broken by the visage of the silver dragon as she turned to speak to him. "Huma, I ..." He looked ahead, expecting to see the Dragonqueen's children breaking through the darkness. "Nothing. I—I merely wished to say you may count on me in all things."

"I will always be thankful," he shouted, for the wind was now so great that it roared in his ears, and he could not be sure how well she heard him. She had already turned away. It became a battle merely to enter the curtain of blackness that had been raised by the followers of Galan Dracos. The winds were fierce. The riders were strapped down and the Dragonlances were hooked to their mounts for safety. Huma and the silver dragon were the first to enter and it was as if there were no Krynn. Sky and earth were gone. There was only the knight, his dragon, and his lance. No, Huma realized. There was more. Behind him, he could see the glow of the other Dragonlances. At first, Huma worried that they would shine like beacons to the forces of Takhisis. Then he saw how the lances ate away at the darkness, destroying the spell. It did not matter then whether they were seen or not. The darkness ceased to be a threat.

"We're through!" the silver dragon shouted.

The world snapped back into existence. When Huma had wandered on foot, it seemed such an incredible distance, an endless darkness in which things not of this plane chittered and slunk toward their unseeing prey. Now, it seemed like nothing. The enemy dragons were upon them.

The first came at Huma and the silver dragon as they emerged again into the light. One lone rider and dragon must have seemed easy prey for the red dragons, and the two of them turned from their brethren to deal with Huma. The other dragonriders began to emerge behind Huma, though, and the easy prey became the deadly hunter. The two overconfident reds fell swiftly, unable to break away in time. The others, blue, black, and red, came more hesitantly. 152

It seemed to Huma that they attacked only for fear of their own mistress, a fear greater than that of the Dragonlances.

One of the twenty, Hallerin, a newly appointed but skilled Knight of the Crown, went down, burning from the acidic blast of his foe. The other knights had accounted for four of the enemy and the rest of the dark dragons turned in retreat, deciding to risk the wrath of their mistress.

Some knights wanted to chase after them, but Huma signaled against that idea by remaining on his present course. Huma's target was the source of the shifting darkness. Several times, they faced onslaughts of creatures of the air. There were dragons of nearly every color. At one point, they clashed with large, birdlike creatures with leonine jaws and three pairs of claws. Another dragonrider was lost to horrors that only could have been the mad creations of Dracos himself. Huma was particularly saddened by this loss, a scarred veteran of the Rose, named Marik Ogrebane. He had been one of the disabled knights and was the first to volunteer. Now only eighteen remained. As they flew, Huma memorized the place and circumstances of each death, hoping to mark the bravery of these men in some way, later on, in song or verse.

They were close, Huma knew, close to the source of the spell. He could feel it.

"I spy something, Huma," said the silver dragon.

"Where?"

"Down there to the right"

He followed her gaze. There was nothing but a hill, barren but for a few bent and decaying trees, arranged almost in a pattern. It was certainly not what he was anticipating, and he told the silver dragon so.

She smiled knowingly. "Look not with your eyes, Huma. Look with the wisdom of Paladine. Have you ever seen trees growing in the form of a pentagram?" The knight looked again—and realized how precise the pattern was. As he observed, the trees began to waver, as if they were not real. They did not fade, but twisted into brownrobed forms, like the mage who had attacked Huma in the woods in what seemed such a long time ago.

Now he saw them more precisely. Nearly a dozen figures squatted in the dirt, their heads down, their arms outstretched toward the center of the pentagram, where one of their number stood with arms raised high.

"Shall we take them? They seem unaware," Kaz shouted from the side. Bolt eagerly expressed similar sentiments.

"I want to take them alive if possible."

Kaz snorted. "If possible?"

Bolt plunged ahead—and barely missed being grievously wounded as something rose and shattered the air currents, as if lightning had emanated from the earth. Kaz and Bolt circled for another try and this time, when the attack came, Bolt easily dodged it. A crack of lightning split the heavens and struck the hill. When the smoke cleared, a small crater marked where the figures had been.

Huma turned at the sound of laughter coming from the silver dragon. "Thus his nickname, Bolt. All bronze dragons are capable of that trick, but only a few have such precision as he has shown, and none are his equal."

Their defenses shattered, the renegade mages were suddenly active. They rose as one and turned toward the newcomers. Though Huma could not be sure from this distance, he thought their faces remarkably similar. They all might have been siblings. Then Huma realized what was so similar about each figure. They acted as if under a spell or with such concentration that it had become etched in their faces and movements. They were, in a sense, one being and they were pointing their hands toward Huma and the silver dragon. 153

"Dive!" he cried, but she was already doing that. The renegades tried to follow their progress, but the silver dragon wove a complex tapestry of turns and dives. While the mages concentrated on her, the other dragonriders moved closer.

How long could the renegades keep up this defense and still maintain the darkness?

Huma wondered.

"Huma, beyond!"

Just over the hill, and marching steadily along, was the ogre army. The land was literally crawling with ogres, their human allies, goblins, and a few unidentifiables—

experiments of the mages, no doubt. Things with too many arms, too many legs—even too many heads and trunks.

The very air ripped apart as he watched, and Huma had a glimpse of a place known to him only in nightmares and prayer. It was only a glimpse, but of a blackness so overwhelming, so ready to devour him, that he knew it could only be the Abyss.

They had that much strength. They had opened a rift in the mortal plane—and it would swallow him! Huma shook uncontrollably, and even the silver dragon wavered at that sight. The rip seemed to widen, giving them no place to run or hide. It came closer—then the power keeping the rift open crumbled as the renegades fell to the oncoming dragons of light. The mages had reached their limits in concentration; too many things were happening of too great importance. As the dragons attacked, first one, then another, then another, a few of the renegades stood to fight and died on the spot; the rest scattered, the link between them destroyed.

Behind them, the darkness dissipated. Things screeched in horror at the light. They had been bred in the darkness, perhaps even in the Abyss. Light to them was death. Their forms could not exist without the darkness; they faded away like dew, leaving no trace of their coming or going.

That would not, however, deter the massive force that marched even now toward the hill where the mages had scattered. The Dragonqueen's commanders, lacking the imagination and daring of Crynus, were throwing all they had into the first battle. The silver dragon turned to Huma again. "They are frightened, Huma. Not of us, but of Galan Dracos and the Dragonqueen, I think."

"What can we do?"

"YOU CAN DIE."

Behind him, Huma heard shouts and cries from the others. Before him, a figure hovered in mid-air with arms folded, smiling smugly from beneath a brown hood. He was tall, perhaps even taller than Huma, and slim, more like a well-trained knight than the mage he obviously was. Other than his reptilian smile, the floating spellcaster's face was little more than a shadow.

"Galan Dracos." Huma whispered the name to himself, but it was apparent the mage understood, for he cocked his head in acknowledgment of his identity.

"You are Huma. You look quite different when seen through human eyes. The one failing of the dreadwolves. One sees as they see."

Huma could barely restrain himself from ordering the silver dragon to charge the floating figure. Here was the living embodiment of all that was evil.

Galan Dracos was smiling broadly. "You are wasting your time, good knight. True, those lances are an advantage over the dragons, but you have—pardon, had—only twenty, and there are far too many dragons. See for yourself." The mage indicated the horizon behind him.

Huma squinted. A dark mass was coming up over the horizon. At first he thought it to be another spell of darkness. Then he saw that the mass was not one thing, but many large, flying creatures.

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Dragons. The children of Takhisis. Hundreds of them.

Galan Dracos was still smiling when Huma turned to him. "With my dark lady's aid, I have summoned them from all over Krynn. Every last one. Black, red, white, green—all the different dragons. They have been flying for days to come here, and they have almost arrived."

Twenty lances—eighteen now. Eighteen against hundreds and hundreds of dragons. If only they had more lances . . .

"If you surrender now, there might still be a place for you. My mistress has been quite impressed with your ability to survive. If you would be willing to turn your talents to her, she would prove most—grateful." The renegade smiled. "You've really seen only her warrior persona. She has other—talents—of equal wonder."

Below him, the silver dragon gave an uncharacteristic hiss of fury, and Huma suddenly found himself closing in on the mage. Oddly, Dracos only laughed as the great leviathan leapt at him, jaws wide, claws foremost.

The jaws clamped harmlessly together.

"Illusion," Huma muttered.

A mocking laugh seemed to hang in the air. The group hovered uncertainly, awaiting instructions from Huma. He continued to stare at the spot where the illusion of Galan Dracos had floated.

Unable to stand the waiting anymore, an unidentified knight behind Huma cried,

"We've lost!"

"We have not lost until the last knight is dead. Derrick," Bennett shouted at the man. He whispered to the gold dragon, who promptly moved him close enough so that he could speak to Huma without being overheard by the other riders. "What do we do now?" Bennett asking him for guidance? If the whole situation had not been so tragic, Huma might have laughed. "Pull back. We must warn the Keep. With so few lances, we ought to circle Vingaard. Make the taking of it as costly a task as possible."

"You're giving up?"

"Not at all. For now, the defense of the Keep remains our best option." Huma turned to the others. "Back to Vingaard!"

Huma tried to hide his own disappointment as they turned to flee the coming horde. The situation seemed hopeless.

Something bright glittered in his eyes then, and at first Huma thought it was the reflection of the sun. Only, he suddenly realized, there was no sun. What glittered in his eyes was a light with no visible source.

As Huma's eyes focused on the tiny flickering light, it seemed to beckon. It was not exactly light, more a greenish glow. It reminded Huma of the glow emanating from the Sword of Tears.

The glow seemed to flutter earthward, and Huma hesitated. Huma drew the silver dragon's attention to the glittering object.

"What do you make of it?"

"A messenger of some sort, but I suspect its maker wears black. Ignore it and a let us return before things worsen. I—I do not like it here." She was acting strangely, Huma realized. She had been quiet and almost sullen since her attack on Dracos had failed. It had been Dracos's comment on his mistress's charms that had set her off, Huma realized. But why? Had the silver dragon been afraid that he would fall prey to such a false dream?

Huma took a deep breath—and shook his head. "Follow the light down."

"Huma—"

"DO IT." He had never spoken to her like that, but he did not think he could trust her reactions at this moment. The decision would be his.

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"Huma!" Kaz called from ahead of them. Huma shook his head and pointed back toward the Keep, his face expressionless. The minotaur muttered something to Bolt, then turned to the others, to see what was happening. Kaz shouted something. Regardless, the massive easterner would wait with his dragon while the knight investigated whatever held his fascination.

With reluctance, the silver dragon began following the greenish glow downward. When they had reached the base of a particular hill, the greenish glow twinkled abruptly out of existence. The silver dragon landed, and Huma looked around expectantly.

"I come in peace. Knight of Solamnia." The voice was low and grated on the ears. Its owner was the image of a short, wiry man with an oversized head and narrow, weasel-like features. Not a stitch of hair grew on his head.

He wore a black robe.

"A trick! I told you!" The silver dragon reared up, ready to defend Huma. The Black Robe cowered, though there was no fear in his eyes. Huma shouted until his companion quieted. He was becoming disturbed with her new restiveness.

"Hear me out," grated the dark mage.

Huma stared sullenly at the Black Robe. "What do you have to say? I've already spoken with your master."

The magic-user made a face. "There you touch on the point of this meeting. The renegade who has styled himself our master. That carrion!"

"You both serve the same mistress do you not?"

"Listen carefully. Knight of Solamnia, for I've no way of knowing when the cur will notice my absence. We need your agreement."

"Mine?" Huma blinked. A Black Robe seeking aid from him?

"We know of you—through one who has worn many robes in his life and who even now wears another, in spirit if not in body."

"Magius!" The knight leaped on the vague description. "Where?" The spellcaster raised a hand to silence him. "No time for that. Listen. We know now that if the Dragonqueen is victorious, we will be no more to her than you are. Dracos has already become her mortal voice, and his world will seem one born from the Abyss itself. You have seen his abominations. Would you like to see them made permanent? We wish to join with you. Better to die fighting than to be forever at her mercy—and she will have a special place for both our orders, mark me."

An offer of alliance . . . from a Black Robe? "How can I possibly believe you, one of her creatures?"

The mage straightened. "My first and foremost loyalty is to Nuitari, Dark Lord of Magic. We erred in believing we served him when we chose to serve—I will not call her his mother—let us say she who had given birth to him. Nuitari, though, cares for this world. That is why he, Lunitari, and—" The spellcaster hesitated at saying the name. "— even Solinari of the Light abandoned the struggle for Krynn and created the Orders of Sorcery as a separate entity, one that should work for the betterment of magic in the world. If Takhisis is victorious, Krynn will become little more than a cold rock among the stars. Our lord's dream will perish. We cannot have that."

"What do you want?"

"It is not so much what we want as what we can give."

"Give?" The silver dragon, silent through much of this exchange, narrowed her eyes and laughed sarcastically. "A Black Robe gives nothing but misery and death."

"An unjust falsehood. However, in this case, any misery and death we deal shall be aimed toward Dracos and his ragtag band—but we need an opening."

"An opening? What do you mean?"

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"I offer you this." The mage held out a bony hand. In his palm rested a tiny green sphere. "Unless you can get close enough, you will never see the castle of Galan Dracos; it lies on the edge between our plane and the Abyss. With this, you will be able to locate it." The silver dragon scoffed. "Is there not the matter of your former mistress, the Dragonqueen? Is she to step idly aside while we charge the domain of her most trusted servant?"

The spellcaster indicated the Dragonlance. "I'm told that she has doubts about these. That she remains within the confines of the castle, near the path to the Abyss, because she fears the power of the Dragonlances."

"Preposterous! Huma, I won't let you . . ." The silver dragon turned as she spoke and froze at the look on his face. "Huma . . . you cannot believe this." The knight ignored her. "What will you do when we strike, assuming we do?"

"Within the castle, the remainder of the Black Guard and those renegades who willingly follow Dracos will be your greatest threat. We shall deal with them. If possible, we shall strive to turn away the dragons as well."

"Madness!"

A shadow loomed above. All three looked up to see Kaz and Bolt hovering. The minotaur was shouting.

"Be quick! I see dragons scouting ahead."

The mage quickly turned back to Huma. "By Nuitari, I swear that my name is Gunther and that you may trust me. Take it!"

The Black Robe had sworn by his lord. For the followers of Nuitari, the penalties for breaking oaths were ofttimes fatal. Huma reached down and accepted the small green sphere.

"We are with you." The mage vanished abruptly. Huma kicked his mount gently. She spread her wings and began rising, relief evident on her features. Kaz saw Huma's closed fist and blinked. "What is it?" Huma stared at the approaching sea of destruction and thought how simple the spell of darkness seemed now. He glanced down at the hand that held the small sphere. "A desperate hope, at best, I think."

CHAPTER 27

"By the triumvirate! How much more can they possibly throw against us?" Guy Avondale shook his head. "Evil always grows abundant when given the chance to take root. Melodramatic statement by my predecessor, but all too true." They stood in the courtyard where the dragons and their riders had landed. The loss of two of their elite number disturbed the Grand Master, as did news of yet another wave of evil rising toward them.

"What of this deal with the followers of Nuitari, Huma?" asked Bennett. "Can they be trusted, in your opinion?"

After deep thought, Huma finally answered. "I believe so." He held up the tiny, emerald globe. It pulsated. "They gave this. Granted, it might be a means for them to draw us out so that we fall to them in the open field, but it was accompanied by an oath to the God of Dark Magic himself. No Black Robe with a desire to live will cross Nuitari."

"I agree," added the Grand Master. He sighed. "Well, we have quite a problem. We cannot possibly defend Vingaard for too long against a siege of this intensity. At the same time, it would be simple madness to go out and meet that horde." He hesitated, then added, "I offered the dragons the chance to depart if they felt the cause was lost here." Lord Oswal held up a hand to silence his anxious companions. "I had to ask. I believe, though, that they will stay with us until the end. We shall see. Where was I? Ah. We still do not know all about the 157

east. The ogres are said to be stabilizing there. We can look for no help from the south—blast the elves! The north—water."

"We have the fake Dragonlances," interrupted Bennett. "Let us use them in one final assault. In the confusion of the foe, a few of them will buy time, if nothing else." Lord Oswal grunted and stared at the lances of the riders. "I think insanity rules the day, but unless there are other suggestions, we shall combine the epic charge my nephew so desperately craves with a coordinated search for and attack on the castle of Galan Dracos." He looked around. No one, not even Lord Avondale, cleric and veteran soldier, could oppose the suicidal strategy.

Oswal shook his head. "If I am remembered at all, it will probably be as the Grand Master cursed for sending his men to the slaughter."

A horn sounded.

"They've spotted the first wave," someone said anxiously. Knights suddenly were moving all about. Horses were being readied and lined up. Row upon row of knights formed. Pikemen, lancers, bowmen, each and every type moved to assure that there was no disorder in this hour of peril.

"Break out the footmen's lances!" shouted the Grand Master to one of his aides. The man saluted hastily and went to inform the squires, whose job it would be. Huma wanted to order the remaining Dragonlancers into battle formation, but Lord Oswal prevented him. "No. If you hope to break through and make your way to the mountains, you'll have to go when the dragons are engaged."

"But the ground forces—"

"Will receive as much protection as they can get from the dragons. I—" The horn sounded again, a different note this time.

"What in the name of Kiri-Jolith is that?" The Grand Master and the others hurried toward the front, where Lord Hawkeye was in direct command.

"Lord Hawkeye." The ruling Knight of the Order of the Crown whirled.

"Grand Master, they've come to a halt, just in sight. Even the dragons have stopped. It's as if they're waiting for something. I've put everybody on standby."

"Very good." Huma held his breath until the Grand Master relaxed the evident strain on his face. "They are going to play with our minds. They want us to come charging out to meet them. The abysmal fools. We can't be tricked into such an easy death!

"Let them sweat a little. Let them wait. When Galan Dracos or his mistress runs out of patience, then we will make our move."

A gold dragon fluttered from a spire down to the courtyard. He was old, even for a dragon, for his hide was cracked and covered with ancient battle scars. There was no weakness in his form, though.

"I conveyed to the others your earlier offer." The voice was deep and rumbling, a bit like the earth elemental that had served Magius.

The knights became silent.

Lord Oswal had hesitated, but now he asked, "And what was their response?" The dragon gave him a look that could only be described as I-told-you-so. "We will not abandon you. Without Vingaard Keep, the outposts will not stand. This is the place of decision. Vingaard falls, then Ergoth falls, then the elfin lands and dwarven lands fall. The Queen rules all."

"I only sought to keep the cause of Paladine alive if we failed here."

"The cause for good will always live. Even Takhisis must know that." Despite the activity around them, it was as if all sound had ceased for the group. Huma understood that the dragons had committed themselves to a battle to the death. For the sake of their human allies. For the sake of their belief in the teachings of Paladine. 158

The Grand Master did something unprecedented then. He went down on one knee and paid homage, not to that particular dragon, but to all of its kind. With the way to freedom open, they were remaining.

'Thank you. I hoped—but one never knows."

The gold dragon gave a majestic nod, spread his lengthy wings, and departed skyward. The Grand Master watched quietly, then turned at a new sound. Squires bearing the simulated Dragonlances for footmen rushed toward the assembled knights. Huma stared at the lances that were removed from the boxes. How they glowed! It was as if ...

"Milord!" Huma surprised himself as he interrupted the Grand Master.

"Yes, Huma?"

"If you'll excuse me, there are some things I must prepare."

'Then go."

"Kaz." Huma pulled the minotaur aside. "Retrieve one of the lances the squires are passing out and compare it to one of the real Dragonlances."

"What—" The minotaur got no further.

"I'll explain when I return." Huma rushed away, leaving the minotaur to puzzle over his comrade's request.

The smithy itself was only a short distance away, just out of sight of the Grand Master and the others.

Even as Huma approached it, the massive wooden doors swung forward and Huma stepped back quickly, coming face-to-face with a stranger.

"It would be best to avoid standing near doors if you do not wish to injure yourself." The newcomer had silver-black hair and a narrow, long head. His eyes seemed to burn for a moment, and Huma was reminded of the figure who had stared at Gwyneth the one night when they had walked the courtyard. She had been afraid of that man. This could not be the same person, though. This one was taller and thinner. But the eyes . . .

"You are Huma of the Lance," the stranger decided. His eyes were piercing.

"I am Huma." The knight was no bard's hero that he should carry a title such as that.

"The master smith has been busy, but I think he can spare a bit of time for you." The smile was odd, so alien that Huma shivered. What was he reminded of?

Voices carried from inside. Both were familiar, but one especially so.

"—Can you give me no advice?"

"—I have been away from the world of men much too long—and my time on Krynn is almost done. Best you should seek one of your own."

"—None of them understand! How am I to tell him that I am not what he thinks I am?

That I have flown with him nearly every day without him realizing it? Do you think he could love me if he knew I—we—"

There was little light, save around the forge, and that only served to silhouette the two figures standing there.

"Gwyneth?"

The one figure, female, turned at his voice, uttered a gasp, and fled through the rear doorway. Huma made to follow, but the remaining figure blocked his way and greeted him heartily.

"Huma! How good it is to see you one last time!" Duncan Ironweaver lifted him high, shook him like a babe, and set him down again. Huma glanced behind the towering smith, but there was no sign of where Gwyneth had gone.

"You actually thought I'd leave you with only twenty lances? Lad, you surprise me!"

"Then they are real! It isn't my imagination!"

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"Not hardly! I had many, many more than twenty, but not situated near. Besides, you would never have been able to bring them all back. Too many of her spies about. Besides," he smiled, "I needed the trip."

"And the smithy . . ."

Duncan Ironweaver indicated the work area. "They were in need of a master armorer and weaponry expert. I bent the truth a little and said you had summoned me from the south—

which, in a sense, you did. They were understandably impressed with my work and let me take over. Soon it was just me and my assistants."

"It's—it's incredible!" All this time, real Dragonlances were being created in the smithy.

The huge smith tapped his chest. "You've proved to them that the Dragonlances work, Huma. I don't think even your illustrious Grand Master realizes just how many of those men believe in the lances."

Huma's mind began to spin. "Saddles! We'll need more saddles."

"Khildith!"

For the first time, Huma noticed the smith's assistants. An elf, a human, and the dwarf who was evidently Khildith, as it was he who stepped forward.

"Master Ironweaver?"

"Are the saddles ready?"

The dwarf broke into a grin much like the smith's. The dwarf was well-whiskered and, though he appeared quite ancient, moved with the speed and grace of one in his prime. "More than enough to go around."

"Fine, fine." Duncan Ironweaver walked over to Huma and put a hand on his shoulder. The knight felt himself politely but forcibly being steered away.

"Master Ironweaver. One question. Gwyneth—"

"That's between you and her." The change in expression on the smith's face was enough to quiet Huma. "Remember, you have the lances now. Make use of them." Huma was out the door before he could say goodbye. The one-armed smith flexed his mechanical limb. "Paladine be with you, lad. Even the lances cannot help you if you truly lose faith."

The horn sounded a new warning. Huma bolted. All other questions receded in the face of battle. The Dragonlances were real!

Kaz met him, carrying a footman's lance in each hand. "Is this some trick, Huma? I'd swear—"

"They're real! They're all real! Where's Lord Oswal?" The minotaur used one of the lances as a pointer. "On the wall. He insisted on seeing it for himself."

Huma turned and caught sight of Bennett organizing the riders. Huma hailed him. Bennett barked out one last order and then joined him.

"What is it?" Every muscle in the face of the Grand Master's nephew was alive. Bennett was in his element and unconsciously reveling in it.

'The Dragonlances—they're all real!"

The other knight looked at him quizzically. "Of course they're real." Huma hesitated. Bennett had never been told the original plan. No one at that time had known that Duncan Ironweaver was going to appear.

Bennett waited silently until Huma at last let the tale come tumbling out. The Knight of the Sword's visage slowly froze into an unreadable mask. When Huma finally finished, the two stared at one another.

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The predatory eyes of Bennett flickered to where the rank and file of the knighthood had gathered to await commands. His eyes quickly returned to Huma. "Was there anything else? I have much more to do."

The flat, toneless words shocked Huma. He had expected anger and surprise, but nothing? "Bennett—"

His sentence was cut off by an unblinking look from the other. Bennett indicated the knights around them. "Does what you say make any real difference, Huma? Whether the Dragonlances existed or not, these men would still be readying for battle—despite the probable outcome. I would be first among them, as I think you would be, too. Any damage we create, any strength we cost them, even in defeat, is a victory of sorts." He took a breath and some of the fanaticism faded from his eyes. "It does please me to have it reaffirmed that we will not go naked into the maw, but that is all. Tell them that the Dragonlances are of no use; they will still march out and give the enemy their all. Would you yourself act any different?" The faith Bennett had always displayed in the past took on new meaning to Huma now. He knew that the other knight was correct in his assumptions, especially where Huma himself was concerned. No matter how terrible the odds, one of the first knights at the forefront would have been Huma.

"Now, if you will excuse me, there is much that still needs to be done. You should find my uncle up there." Bennett indicated a portion of the front wall to their right. "I think he'll be happy to hear your news."

Bennett walked off, shouting orders as he went and acting as if the conversation had never happened. Huma stirred and hurried off toward the walls. At the top of the wall, the Grand Master was standing on an observation ledge. Lord Oswal heard him approach and glanced his way. When he saw it was Huma, he said, "There's movement over here. Something is forming in the sky." It was only a small blot in an overcast sky, far beyond the oncoming army, but once sighted, it held the viewer's attention as nothing else in the heavens could. Huma felt as if a part of him were being wrenched toward that blot, as if his soul itself was being drawn to it. He caught his breath and tore his eyes away.

"What is it?"

The Grand Master shook his head. "I don't know, but it drives the dragons and ogres toward us, I think."

Huma recalled his reason for coming here and quickly informed Oswal of what he had discovered.

The elder knight acted even before Huma had finished. To his aides he shouted, "Alert all commanders! The dragons! Someone must alert the dragons! Have the ranks ready themselves!"

Turning back toward the oncoming horde, Lord Oswal shook his head. Even as they watched, the dragons of darkness were beginning to pull ahead of the ground forces. They would be here much too soon.

"Milord," Huma said urgently, "let me take the original riders. We will delay the enemy while the others prepare. Send them up in groups of twenty, but have them wait above the Keep until their numbers are great. Then send them out, followed by the footmen. If we gain control of the air, the ground will also be ours."

"You'll be dead!"

The younger knight hesitated—only for a second. "Then I will have given my life over to Paladine, as any knight should do."

Oswal nodded wearily. Huma hurried back down, wondering just how long it would take to gather the others. To his surprise, however, he found them all waiting, riders seated 161

and lances at the ready. In the short time they had been together, the group had become one entity. The silver dragon was there, too, waiting for Huma's orders. In the deadly calm that can occur before battle, Huma stood before his assembled band and explained the danger of their mission and the likely outcome. He expected opposition, voices of dry logic that would tear down his plan. Instead, he was stunned to discover that they believed in what he proposed, though their lives might be forfeit. Bennett nodded in approval and even some of the dragons indicated their agreement. Oddly, only his own mount gave no response. She appeared withdrawn, though she also made no protest when he climbed onto her back. When he gave the signal to depart, she obeyed with speed and coordination, if not enthusiasm.

Once in the air, Kaz and Bolt edged closer. "We shall make them remember us well, before we perish. Mark me on that, Huma."

"We must seek out Dracos," Huma replied. "He is the key to everything."

"He and his dark mistress."

Huma nodded.

When they were high up, Lord Avondale, who was peering to the southwest, suddenly pointed. "Look there!" he shouted. "Do you see anything?" Bolt was the first to reply. "It is another army. The enemy grow even stronger!" Avondale laughed at that. "It is we," he shouted, "who grow even stronger!" It was the northern Ergothian army. Knowing that only defeat and slavery awaited them if the knighthood fell, they were risking all in the hope of making a lightning strike at the foe from the rear. That they had not been noticed thus far by the servants of Takhisis was good fortune, indeed.

"How long before the others will be aloft?" shouted Avondale.

"Not long." It was Bennett who shouted the response, for which Huma was grateful. He would not have wanted to guarantee anything at this point.

Even as they spoke, the group was moving closer to intercept the first of the dragon scouts. They kept in tight formation, knowing too well that individually they would be cut down.

It seemed that the dark dragons realized their intentions, for some moved accordingly. Others, however, were obviously of different opinions as to what the knights were capable of and broke away from the rest, speeding toward their enemies. Huma could not help smiling briefly. As the evil dragons bared teeth and claw and challenged the newcomers, he realized that they did not believe in the strength of the Dragonlances. All but a few of the attackers perished in minutes; most of them skewered themselves on the lances of Huma and his companions. Two more died before Huma signaled for his band to allow the survivors to escape. They would bring their terror to the other dragons who had waited.

Huma glanced briefly at his comrades. Kaz was flushed and full of life; Bolt could barely restrain himself from chasing the survivors. Lord Avondale stared toward his army. Buoron was quiet and almost expressionless. His arm had healed, and he was keeping the Dragonlance as steady as he could.

Scores of manned dragons came to meet them. Red, black, green, and blue. White dragons also charged, but they were without riders and Huma suspected they were to be fodder, for they worked more by animal cunning than intelligence, and this environment was not suited for them at all. Though smaller than the other dragons, they could be deadly, and their presence would buy an advantage for the Dragonqueen.

Below, the course of the two armies had altered. The Ergothians were forming a long, wide line, and the southern portion of the ogre forces was turning to meet this new threat. The 162

northern half, having yet to learn of the attack, began to pull away, leaving the middle to scatter about as warriors sought proper orders. Confusion seemed to be spreading. Now! Huma shrieked in his head. We should be attacking now! Of course, the knights in the Keep could not see the Ergothian army. But they most certainly saw the splintering of the ogres and realized that something to their benefit was occurring. How long before they reacted?

Then, the tiny group of lancers met the first of the seemingly endless waves of foes and there was no time to think of anything but survival.

At first, dragons seemed to appear and disappear each time Huma blinked. There were screams all about him. It became as black as the Abyss and as bright as the sun, for the dragons unleashed their various magics, and riders, some of whom were clerics or sorcerers, added their own powers to the battle.

As the silver dragon dodged a blow from an attacker, Huma saw one of the lancers and his mount fall prey to a band of at least six dragons. Rider and mount vanished beneath the terrible power of the creatures, and it was all Huma could do not to scream at the brave deaths. In the chaos, he could not identify who had perished.

They were becoming separated. Kaz and Bolt still remained with Huma and the silver dragon. At one point, the knight heard the powerful voice of Guy Avondale as he shouted something.

A fearsome black bearing one of the Black Guard came diving from above. Huma shouted at the silver dragon, but she was hopelessly engaged with a red dragon who was pushing the Dragonlance deeper and deeper into his own shoulder, too furious to even realize it. The knight pulled out his sword, useless against such a dragon, and prepared himself for the impact.

Suddenly there was a silver streak, and a sleek dragon intercepted the black. There was a rider on the silver dragon's back, and Huma realized it was Buoron. The other knight already had been struck more than once; blood stained his armor and his mount. Pain! Huma fell back as something sent shockwaves through his left leg. He stared down at blood flowing from a deep wound. The leg twitched and the shockwaves continued to assault his mind. Through tear-covered eyes, he caught sight of an ogre straddling a dragon. With strength beyond that of a human, the ogre had attacked with an ax and his blow had been lucky.

Huma deflected another blow from the ogre, but felt himself unable to concentrate. The pain demanded too much.

To his relief, the silver dragon was at last able to push away her own adversary. The red, weakened by the loss of so much blood from so many wounds, fluttered helplessly toward the ground, taking his hapless rider with him.

"Huma!"

It took him a few moments to realize the silver dragon was calling to him. She looked at him with eyes filled with terrible fear—and not for herself. He had seen eyes like that before, but—

His thoughts were interrupted by a renewal of cries from all around. His first thought was that this was the end, that more dragons were coming to join the ones already attacking the small band.

He was wrong. The dragons he saw as he looked up and around were gold, silver—all the bright metallic colors of the dragons of Paladine. There were more than one hundred, and each had a rider and a knight, armed with a lance that gleamed brightly and aimed true. Dragonlances.

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There was mass confusion among the dark dragons. If they had been told anything, they had been told that there were but a handful of Dragonlances. The nearest of the dragons perished without raising claws in defense, so disbelieving were they. Huma put a hand to his brow and came away with blood—his own. He wondered when that had happened and how.

Thinking of injuries, he again looked down at his leg. The blood was flowing freely still, and he knew he would pass out soon if he didn't do something to stop it. The silver dragon began to pull away from the fighting.

More and more dragons were coming from the Keep. How many Dragonlances had the smith made?

The silver dragon flew as if pursued by the Dark Queen herself. She would glance back in his direction every now and then, that same fearful look in her eyes. He frowned and clamped his hands against the leg wound in order to stanch the flow. At last, they flew over the Keep walls, narrowly avoiding another set of lancers rising, and she brought him to where other survivors of his band were being treated.

'Take him from me!" The dragon's voice was so commanding, so harsh, that no one dallied. Huma lost sight of her and the world as a whole.

When he awoke, Gwyneth was over him, cleaning the wound, touching it with her hands in a way that deadened the pain. He could almost feel power flowing from her fingertips. Her face was pale and covered partially by her hair as she leaned over the leg. Huma's eyes wandered. They were on a hill, away from the fighting, but not so far that they could no longer hear the sounds of battle. Avondale was there, his left side a bloody mess. Kaz was nowhere to be seen. Of the original band, only nine remained. Bennett, uninjured but looking as if he and his armor had been dragged across the plains, was staring at Gwyneth with an emotion somewhere between revulsion and fascination. His eyes briefly met Huma's, then turned swiftly away.

"Buoron is dead, Huma," Oswal's nephew finally said, his gaze still on Gwyneth. "The last I saw, he and his dragon took on that black one to save you. They perished." This last shook not only Huma, but Gwyneth as well. She removed her hands from the wound and cried in them. Huma reached out and touched her arm.

'It's not Buoron she weeps for—" Bennett was having trouble finding the right words.

"Let it be, Bennett." Guy Avondale tried to rise.

"Huma!" Bolt flew into sight, with Kaz waving his battle ax in greeting. Both dragon and minotaur were covered with scratches and minor wounds, but neither seemed to be weakened by them. Huma glanced at them only momentarily, then his eyes returned to Gwyneth. She looked away. He continued to stare at her, even when he finally responded to Bennett's statement.

"What do you mean, Bennett? What are you trying to say?" The hawklike features of Bennett swerved toward the Ergothian cleric/commander,

"Everyone else saw it. Why hide it? If she cannot tell him, someone surely will. He needs to know. I know how he feels about her."

"It is between them!" Avondale was furious.

"Stop it."

The words were from Gwyneth. She rose, all the while staring at Huma. Her arms hung limply by her side.

Avondale slumped back suddenly. He glanced at Bennett and Kaz. "You two, help me up. A chill is coming over me. I need to move somewhere less open." Reluctantly, Kaz and Bennett helped him rise, and the three moved off. 164

Gwyneth finally spoke. "I weep for Buoron. I weep for any who fall fighting the Dragonqueen."

"As have I."

She tried to smile. "I weep especially for the dragon Buoron rode, the large silver one."

Brother to his own, Huma recalled. Why would Gwyneth cry so for this one dragon?

She stared moodily around. The area had been emptied. As Huma looked puzzled, her features softened. "Before I tell you this, know that I love you, Huma. I would never do anything to harm you."

"I love you too." The words seemed to flow so easily all of a sudden.

"I think you may change your mind," she said enigmatically. Huma did not have time to ask what she meant, for Gwyneth was suddenly aglow—

almost like the Dragonlances. As he watched in horrid fascination, her face elongated and her nose and mouth grew into a toothy snout. Huma thought of witchery and rose to help her, but his leg was not well yet and the head wound had not been salved. He slumped to the ground. Her long, slim arms grew even longer—and more muscular. The small hands twisted and turned, becoming terrible claws. She fell onto all fours and seemed to grow and grow and grow. Something wiggled and moved on her back. She was no longer remotely human, and what she did resemble caused the knight to shake his head again and again and again. Her garments vanished—to Paladine knows where—but she had no more need of them in her present form. The odd wiggling and moving on her backside came from two great humps that burst open, revealing batlike wings. They spread wide, and in moments the transformation was complete. The thing that had been Gwyneth stepped forward, tall, straight—and frightened.

It was a dragon—a silver dragon.

His own.

CHAPTER 28

"The silver dragon’s eyes were downcast. "Huma, in Paladine's name, please say something!"

The voice was unmistakably Gwyneth's. He looked up into that reptilian face and saw the fear in it—fear that he would reject her. Huma could not say what was truly going through his own mind. Everything seemed to be tumbling down around him. This could not be Gwyneth. Could it?

"You saw my brother that night—as you saw the other who served Duncan Ironweaver—dragons both, but in human form. We admire you so, Huma, you and your kind. In your short lives, you accomplish so much."

Huma said nothing. Involuntarily, he pulled himself slightly farther from her. It was not out of fear, but out of confusion.

She did not interpret it that way, and her words spilled out faster. Even as she spoke, her form reverted. The wings shriveled. Her four limbs smoothed and twisted until they were once more human and she was able to stand. Her body shrank rapidly, as if the huge form were melting before his horrified eyes. The face grew smaller and rounder and the great maw of the dragon dwindled down to the full, perfect lips. Hair of shimmering silver came sprouting from the dragon's head, cascading down the back. Huma nearly fled. The metamorphosis he had witnessed could not be real.

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"My brother told me what I did not see at first, that I had fallen prey to what has happened to only a few others in the past. I had lived among you for so long that I had come to love as you do."

"Why?"

She frowned, unsure exactly what he was asking, and then replied, "You embody the very beliefs of Paladine. You are brave, kind, never hateful. I came to love you for you, nothing else."

"Ah, the happy lovers."

The cold, triumphant voice woke Huma from his stupor. It could not be, not here . . . Galan Dracos, looking much as he had earlier, materialized before the knight and the dragon maiden and smiled. "I would have made my presence known sooner, but I did not care to interrupt such a beautiful scene."

Gwyneth gave a cry that no human could have been capable of and would have struck him, but Huma was already moving and barred her way. The knight succeeded in taking only a few steps before his leg gave out and he fell to the ground. Only then did he remember that the figure before him was an illusion. He silently cursed his own stupidity. The renegade laughed. "I've come to add to your miseries, Huma. I've come to repay you for the loss of Crynus. I must admit, his insanity grew unpredictable in the end. But he was my best commander and I shall miss him. Pity."

Kaz and Bennett, alerted by the voice of one they knew all too well, came racing around the corner. The illusory Dracos raised a hand and they halted, as if striking a wall.

"An eye for an eye, you pathetic mortal." Dracos raised his hands, and something began to materialize before them. It was not until it was nearly fully formed that Huma recognized it.

"Magius!"

They had tortured him. His face was a bloody pulp, and one eye was swollen shut. His robes were in tatters, and Huma was surprised to see that they were white, not red. One arm was bent at an impossible angle, and neither leg seemed in the least functional. Magius forced himself up with his good arm.

"Hu—Huma." Several of his teeth were missing. "I was right—in the end." Dracos smiled indulgently. "He babbles like that occasionally." With great effort, Magius turned around and spat on the garments of the renegade. Galan Dracos became furious and stretched an open palm toward his captive. Magius screamed as his body rippled from the renegade's torture.

Gwyneth moved forward. "Test your spells against me, Galan Dracos." The phantasm smiled nastily. "I have more power than you could believe, but I do not choose to use it now. I have merely come to show Huma the foolishness of his dreams of victory."

Huma rolled forward, desperately trying to reach his tortured friend. Magius shook his battered head. "Don't, Huma. There's no reason anymore. Defeat Dracos. That's all I ask."

Dracos raised both hands toward Magius. "Your time is up, my friend." With a gesture, the renegade sent shafts of green light at his captive. The shafts seemed to pass through Magius, and he screamed as if each were a steel lance. He wavered just a moment, then toppled forward to lie in a heap, very real, at Huma's feet. His death was no illusion. Huma shouted and struggled to move. The others stepped forward, but Dracos was already fading out of existence.

"The price of defiance, Knight of Solamnia. The price you all will be paying before long unless you embrace my mistress."

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"No, renegade," the knight said, raising himself high. "If anyone pays a price, it will be you."

He could not tell if Dracos heard him, for the last was said to empty air. Bennett and Kaz stumbled forward. The minotaur was the first to speak. "Huma! Are you all right?"

Without answering, Huma looked intensely at the crumpled form of Magius.

"If you seek vengeance, Huma, I will gladly stand at your side." Kaz had never cared for the magic-user, but he had, in the end, gained respect for him. Huma shook his head. "Vengeance is not the way." He raised an arm. "Help me over to him."

They did. It was odd, but now Magius looked at peace. He certainly had never looked this calm in life.

Putting the mage's head down softly, Huma gritted his teeth and rose by his own power. Bennett and Kaz waited to assist him, but he waved them off. When he finally stood, Huma turned to face the three.

"I need your help — all three of you. It is time that the balance be restored. It is time that Galan Dracos and his dark lady learn that where there is evil, there must also be a balance with good. Magius was living proof of that. In his time, he wore the robes of all three Orders, ending with the white of Solinari. From evil to good, the pendulum swings both ways. It is time it swung to our side."

"You intend to seek out the castle?" asked Bennett.

"I do. I ask your help and that of any surviving from our band. If you hesitate, I will understand, for it is surely suicide."

Kaz seemed ready to burst with indignation. "If you expect me to turn from any battle, especially this one, you know nothing of my people. I may not be a Knight of Solamnia — " he ignored the sharp look from Bennett " — but I know when I must fight. I will join you." Bennett nodded. "I will come. I am sure those who can still ride will say the same."

"Give me a few minutes alone, then. Bennett, please tell the Grand Master what has occurred here. I would like him to give Magius a proper funeral no matter what occurs."

"As you wish."

Both the minotaur and the knight departed. Huma stared at the body of Magius, remembering simpler times. He was interrupted by a female voice.

"What of me, Huma? We were interrupted by this tragedy. I do not ask for a response to my feelings; I do not even hope that you can return my love. I will say this: In the matter of Galan Dracos and Krynn, I am still your partner. When you fly into the maw of the Dragonqueen, it will be I who will carry you." She waited for a response. Huma could say nothing. "I will be waiting, ready when you are."

He heard footsteps then. They faded until he could hear nothing more. Huma did not move from the spot until clerics from the temple came to carry Magius to a place where his body could rest.

Huma limped toward the group. All of the original members who could still ride were ready. There were eight men in all, and eight dragon steeds. Lord Avondale could not accompany them because of his wounds, but he was there to see them go. Huma spoke first to Avondale. "Any word on your men?"

"Bogged down, but still very much alive. Your Grand Master has released the ground forces. They are advancing. The ogres have ground to a halt." Huma nodded numbly. He heard only part of what the Ergothian was saying. The renegade's killing of Magius had been a desperate act, an attempt to break Huma's spirit. Indeed, he felt broken and confused as he entered into this, his important and shining hour. 167

"Wish us luck, cleric."

"I'll do better than that." Avondale reached up to his own neck and tugged on a chain. As he pulled it over his head, a medallion, buried under his armor and clothing, came into view. "Lean forward."

Huma did. Avondale placed the medallion around his neck. "You are more deserving of this than I."

The knight took the medallion in one hand and gazed at it. A representation of Paladine stared back at him. The medallion seemed comfortably warm in his hand. "My—

gratitude."

"Do not thank me. Find Dracos!"

Huma nodded and rose. The others were all mounted. Huma walked over to the silver dragon. He started to say something to her, thought better of it, and mounted. Someone handed him his lance. He noted that the footman's lance was again strapped onto the silver dragon.

On his signal, they rose into the air, determined to make their way past the enemy and seek out the stronghold of the mage. Huma held up the small, greenish sphere and concentrated. He willed it to lead them to the citadel.

The sphere glowed brightly, rose from his hand, and began to fly toward the mountains in the west.

The eight pairs followed.

The battle was turning into a slaughter. The dragons, spurred by their fear of their mistress, charged again and again at the lancers. They were repulsed each time with heavy losses.

More than a fifth of the lancers and their mounts had perished in the meantime, overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The ground forces also had suffered, especially at first. Once they learned of the effectiveness of their lances, however, casualties dwindled. Soon, no dragon dared come near. Their magic and breath weapons still rained chaos on the knights, but there was a limit to those powers, and many of the Dark Queen's children became easy prey for flying lancers, so greatly had they exhausted themselves. Despite their intentions, Huma and his band could not avoid the battle completely; it was too widespread by now. More than once, they swooped down to help a remnant that was in danger of being overrun. The children of Takhisis were in no way defeated, though. They had formed into groups and were charging whatever point seemed weakest. Already, many had broken through and were heading toward the Keep. They would be in for a surprise, Huma knew. The Grand Master was no novice. More than fifty knights and dragons were ready to fly at a moment's notice.

Below them, the ogres and their allies were a mass of confusion. They were now being forced to fight a war on two fronts, for the Ergothians had found good ground and were harrying the southern flank with great success.

The sky suddenly became dark all around them, and Huma and his companions were filled with a sense of terrible, oncoming evil.

Lightning bolts moved with terrifying accuracy, striking dragons and riders and leaving few remains. The advancing Dragonlancers faltered, were pushed back. The children of the Dark Queen began to fight with new energy.

Huma slammed a fist against the lance shield. How did one fight a storm? No mage had created this. He put a hand over his eyes. If he had a physical target, then he might be able to do something, but what could even the Dragonlance do against the elements?

His question was answered even as he entered the heart of the storm. The presence of evil was so great that Huma could almost picture the Dragonqueen before him, hurling the 168

rain and lightning toward him. A flash of lightning struck close behind him, and Huma heard a scream. By now, he could not tell whether it was rain or tears that dripped down his face. The Dragonlance suddenly burst into such brilliance that he was forced to close his eyes momentarily. From the shouts around him, he gathered that the same thing was occurring to his companions. When his eyes had recovered, Huma dared open them—and continued opening them until they were wide with disbelief.

The storm clouds were dispersing. Rapidly. To his shock, Huma found the sun shining bright upon his armor. Was that right? By all calculations, it would be late day. The sun should be setting, yet here it was, high in the sky.

No one on either side needed a more dramatic sign of which way the battle was going. The dragons of darkness lost their momentum, backtracked, and began to retreat from the fight in ones and twos. Even the powerful fear of their mistress was not sufficient to deter them. Paladine was proving to be the greater of gods.

The ogres, though, fought with near-berserk fury. The dragons might flee to fight another day, but not the ogres and their human allies. There was nowhere they could hide that the knights could not hunt them down. For them, it was victory or nothing. Kaz and Bennett rode to each side and a little back of Huma. Huma fingered the medallion given to him by Lord Avondale. The warmth remained strong and, on impulse, he leaned forward and touched it to the Dragonlance.

A surge of strength channeled through him.

The mountains were directly ahead. Somehow, the green sphere had stayed with them all that time, unaffected by the storm or the Dragonqueen's fury. Huma became alert for any sign of a castle. There was no telling how near they might be, and the castle certainly would not be undefended.

Suddenly, a burst of energy shot from one of the smaller peaks to the southwest. Huma turned to face it, hoping the lance would break its power, when the burst was met by another. The two canceled one another out. Huma's gaze shot to the source of the second burst. Even as he watched, the groups on the two peaks began to battle in earnest. After a few seconds of watching, Huma understood. He smiled grimly and turned to Kaz.

'The Black Robes are making their move! They've turned on Galan Dracos and his band!" He repeated the message to Bennett, who passed it on to the stalwarts behind them. A dozen red dragons, each bearing a rider, rose suddenly from within the mountains. The riders were all clad in black and—to the horror of Huma and his companions—each had a Dragonlance.

They had, no doubt, lifted them from the dead. He should have recognized the danger, Huma decided. A lance was just as deadly no matter whose hand controlled its path. They outnumbered Huma's band two-to-one.

Bennett and the others came up alongside Huma. The apparent commander of the guardsmen, cloaked and wearing a visored helmet topped with two wicked horns, signaled to the others. In alternating order, the red dragons rose or fell, creating two levels. Their strategy was immediately apparent. Whatever group Huma's men chose to attack, they would be left open to a second attack from the others.

When the red dragons neared, Huma lifted both arms wide and then brought his hands together as if he were clapping.

The knights split into two groups, one to the left, one to the right. The maneuver spread confusion through their opponents. The evil dragons hesitated, then their order began to crumble as each moved to protect its own flank from the deadly lances. Clustered together as they were, this proved more detrimental. Two red dragons collided with one another. Huma skewered one hapless creature. The others moved in. Speed was of the essence in this strike.

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The knights wasted no time or opportunity. Ducking a blast of flame from one ferocious red, the silver dragon brought Huma and the lance directly toward its underbelly. The Dragonlance sank in without resistance, and the red dragon quivered. The rider, realizing his lance was useless at this angle, frantically pulled at a bow on his back. He did not have time. His dragon convulsed and, to Huma's surprise, burst into flames, turning both man and leviathan into ash.

Huma had a brief glimpse of the commanding guardsman as the ebony-armored figure caught an unsuspecting gold dragon in the neck with one of the plundered lances. The dragon shook violently, pulling himself free from the Dragonlance. The wound was deep. The gold dragon thrashed around, throwing his rider free. The wound seemed to erupt. There was nothing Huma could do for the helpless rider, for now the guardsman was turning his dragon toward him.

The blood of the gold dragon dripped from the point of the lance, and Huma briefly noted that the weapon was stained, something that had never occurred before. Then both dragons were roaring, claws bared and jaws wide open in a terrifying display. Silver dragon met red dragon. Both lances were in perfect position to strike, and Huma saw no way to prevent the death of Gwyneth—as he was finally able to think, of her. As the lances thrust forward, he uttered a single-word prayer to Paladine. The point of the stolen Dragonlance touched the right side of the silver dragon's unprotected chest—then slid off the side and shot past her, puncturing the lower membrane of her wing.

Huma's lance continued through, piercing so deeply that it came out the back of the red dragon. Because of that, Gwyneth was forced to grapple with the dying creature so that they could free themselves. Her damaged wing made the task all the more difficult. The black-suited rider was no stranger to opportunity, and he unstrapped himself from the dying red dragon and crawled quickly forward. The silver dragon, busy with her counterpart, did not notice him until he had jumped onto her and behind Huma. By then, there was nothing she could do that would not imperil Huma.

The attacker gripped her shoulder tightly and reached back to a sheath behind him. The sword he pulled from there was a massive, wicked weapon with tiny barbs all along the edges.

Huma's own blade seemed woefully inadequate, but, lacking anything else, he turned and met the guardsman head on. The two weapons struck together, and the knight's was almost pulled from his grip as it caught on the barbs.

With a tremendous effort, the silver dragon at last freed herself from the massive corpse. Even as it spiraled toward the ground, she sought a way to buck the ebony-armored attacker without losing Huma as well.

Meanwhile, neither fighter had gained any advantage. Secure in the saddle, Huma was on a more stable base, but he could not turn easily. The guardsman, straddling the lower half of the dragon, was forced to stay his ground or risk losing his grip. He had no way to secure himself.

The knight tugged violently at the bonds securing him to his saddle and crawled forward to give himself some breathing room while he turned around. The other chopped with his jagged blade, but missed. Huma, now facing his opponent, reached across the saddle and struck a blow at the guardsman's side. His adversary parried the attack and caught Huma's blade in the barbs. They struggled, each attempting to wrest the other's sword away. This new struggle proved to be a fatal error for the guardsman. Huma's position allowed him to use both hands; the other could not. The dark knight reached up with his other hand in order to save his grip on his sword— and lost his balance, slipping from the silver dragon's back. He tried making a grab for her wings, but they moved out of reach, and the 170

Black Guard commander could only clutch wildly at the air before plummeting out of sight, screaming.

Huma looked upward. Kaz and Bolt were looking down at the scene with mutual expressions of triumph.

Surprisingly, the Dragonlancers had lost only the one man in the battle. Huma gave thanks that no more than that had perished, but wondered what else lay ahead. Then, the air began to shimmer all about them and Huma, strapping himself back in the saddle, thought for a moment that they were again under attack. The shimmering was disorienting, and a great chill accompanied it. The entire mountain range looked distorted, as if they were flying in several directions at once. There was nothing Huma could do but hold on tight and pray that it would end soon.

Perhaps Paladine had heard him or perhaps they had finally reached the other side of whatever spell Dracos had cast, for the strange disturbance suddenly ceased and when Huma opened his eyes again, the mountains were as they had been.

Save for one additional feature—a tall, massive black castle perched on the side of a jagged peak.

The citadel of Galan Dracos, renegade and servant of Takhisis, the Dragonqueen. The place of final victory—or everlasting defeat.

CHAPTER 29

The castle stood like a neglected sore upon the northernmost side of the ravaged peak. Blacker than the night, blacker than the ebony armor of the guardsmen, it could only truly be compared to the Abyss of Huma's dreams, so foul was it. Huma wondered if perhaps he should have waited until he could have gathered more lancers. Yet there was no turning back. The Dragonqueen had to be confronted.

"What now, Huma?" The silver dragon looked up at him. There was death in her eyes—not for him, but rather for herself. He could see that she had given up all hope of becoming his. The knight wanted to say something, anything, but he could not. Not to that reptilian visage, so alien. He felt ashamed.

"We find a way in. We find Galan Dracos."

Seen closely, the castle was even more obscene. It looked to be rotting before their very eyes. Small chunks of mortar fell from time to time, but no substance seemed to be lost. Withered vines wrapped around its outer walls and, even while Huma pondered how vines such as these could exist at so cold a level, he noted that they appeared to have been dying for some time.

Gruesome gargoyles stood watch on the battlements. Close examination proved them to be not demonic creatures, but the works of some mad sculptor. Two towers rose above all else in this edifice. One appeared to be a watchtower, for it had been placed on the far edge, away from the mountain, giving those at the top a fantastic view of both the mountain range and the lands to the east.

The other tower seemed completely out of place. It was broad, taking up nearly a quarter of the inner grounds. Where the rest of the castle seemed decrepit with age, the tower seemed new and nearly spotless. Huma had no doubt that this was where to find the renegade.

'There are no defenders!" Bennett shouted.

Not one sentry walked the walls. There was no one in the watch tower, nor were there any guardsmen in the courtyard. The entire structure looked as if it were abandoned, though Huma knew Galan Dracos awaited them.

Huma turned to the others. "Disperse! I'm going in alone." 171

Below him, the silver dragon quivered but kept her eyes straight ahead. Kaz was not so silent.

"Disperse? Are you mad? Do you think we'd leave you?"

"Dracos wants me. That shall be the way it is."

Bennett had his dragon shift closer. "I will not permit you to do this."

"It is madness, indeed, Huma," remarked the gold dragon serving Bennett. With a suddenness that made Huma grab for the pommel of the saddle, the silver dragon swooped down toward the castle, leaving the others open-mouthed. She had taken the decision out of their hands. They might follow, but they would not be able to catch up. The courtyard lay directly below. Huma wondered at the size of the castle. Galan Dracos could not be so powerful as to keep his citadel perpetually standing on the side of a peak and hidden from the sight of men and still have the strength for all he had done. He was still pondering when something of tremendous power struck him and Gwyneth. What seemed to be a giant hand plucked him from the saddle.

The world vanished.

He awoke in a narrow hall. Only one torch lit a dim corridor. The walls were cold stone, and the place had a dank smell. It nauseated Huma.

Why was he here? If it was a trap created and sprung by Dracos, why was the knight not locked in a dungeon cell, his weapons and armor stripped?

Weapons. He reached down by his side and felt the hilt of his sword. After a quick inspection, he determined that he still had his knives as well. What sort of trick was this?

The clank of metal alerted him to the presence of armored figures just down a side corridor. Huma drew his sword carefully. He did not trust these corridors enough to go racing down them blindly. They reminded him too much of the cavern tunnels in which he had been hounded by Wyrmfather.

Sword raised, he stood on the right side of the corridor intersection and held his breath. By his reckoning, there were at least two. He could hope to get the first one and possibly the second, but not three without a general alarm being raised. A dark boot came into sight. The familiar ebony armor swerved to the left. A second guardsman followed the first. Huma held his breath.

A gauntleted hand shot toward the long, wicked blade Huma had seen earlier in the hands of the dragonrider commander. The first guardsman turned around at the noise and went for his. Though the second had noticed Huma, he was unable to draw his sword quickly enough. Huma ran him through the neck before the jagged blade was even halfway out of its scabbard.

The walls rang as Huma ducked a swing by the other attacker. The guardsman's blade cut deep into the stone and yet slid out easily. Huma parried a second attack and then took the lead.

His opponent was good, but not as good as a well-trained Knight of Solamnia. Defenses became more and more sloppy as the jet-black figure realized he lacked the skill to overcome the trespasser. Huma forced the other's sword high, and kicked. Quarters were too close for the guardsman to dodge. As his opponent fell back and tried to recover, the knight ran him through.

The noise would surely bring someone.

Huma stared down both the corridor the guards had come from and the one they had chosen at the intersection. Both seemed to go on and on.

As quietly as possible, he began to make his way down the corridor in the opposite direction. It was virtually dark and Huma had to feel along the walls to make sure he was not missing any side corridors or intersections.

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Where was the silver dragon? he wondered. Where was Gwyneth? the knight corrected himself. Whatever shape or form she wore, she was Gwyneth; he understood that much even if he really did not understand his own feelings. She had to be here somewhere, Huma reasoned. Perhaps, like himself, she was wandering aimlessly in some darkened part of the citadel in a fruitless search for him.

On impulse, he withdrew the medallion from his chest and held it close. Its warmth filled him, and the medallion began to glow with an intensity akin to the Dragonlances. Just then, a voice echoed down the hallway.

Two voices spoke in hisses. Not members of the warlord's Black Guard, for they rarely spoke, Huma had noticed. Mages—but were they renegades or those who had sworn to aid the knighthood?

He held his blade ready, silently cursing the lack of true light. Darkness was a magicuser's friend, for, like an assassin, magic-users were notorious for sleight-of-hand skills. Huma hoped he could take both of them quickly.

"He must be here!"

"Why did you do it?"

"The renegade had them both. He — aaaugh!"

The first of the two spellcasters suddenly found himself standing with a sword point beneath his chin. His companion made no move to attack Huma.

"No false moves," the knight whispered.

"It is him!" the other mage hissed at his comrade.

"I can see that!" the spellcaster said, then added to Huma, "We are allies! Did not Gunther tell you?" The spellcaster's face was difficult to read in the dark, but Huma thought his eyes were wide with fear.

"Gunther?"

"Slight, with animal features. Bald."

A simple description, but fairly accurate. That did not mean these two were friends, however.

"He gave you a tiny, emerald sphere."

"All right." It was risky, but Huma decided to lower the sword. The mages sighed audibly. Both were of average height and one was on the heavy side, but Huma could only guess at details.

"Another time and we might have taught you what it is to threaten one of the Order of Nuitari," the heavier one grumbled. "But now circumstances force us to aid you."

"I care for it as little as you."

"Dracos knew you would take the empty courtyard as an invitation to land, but he planned a surprise for you. We did not have the time to seize both of you, so we settled on you as most important. In order to prevent one of the renegades from tracing you, we were forced to fling you to a random location in the castle and hope for the best."

"I had a very good idea where you would land; there was no reason to worry." The narrower of the two mages gave an audible sniff of contempt.

"Some of us are purely lucky at times." The words of the stocky mage were aimed at his companion, and Huma got the vague notion that they were brothers of the flesh as well as of the cloth. "Be that as it may, we want you — "

"You want?" Huma's grip on his sword tightened, and he waved it at the level of the two spellcasters' throats. "I do not take orders from Black Robes. We work together, yes, but as equals."

Twin sighs. Allies such as these Huma could have done without, yet they had saved his life once already.

"What happened to the dragon I was riding?"

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"That thing?" asked the first mage. "It's frozen. In stasis. Galan Dracos wastes no raw material."

"What does that mean?" The thought that something terrible might be happening to Gwyneth even now nearly put Huma into a panic. The mages mistook that panic for murderous anger and quickly did their best to placate him.

"Nothing! He's much too busy at the moment! He has some grand spell which he claims is going to change Krynn forever. He has no time for the dragon." Huma took a deep breath and calmed. "You've been of invaluable assistance up to now, but I think you have compromised yourselves. Surely he suspects all Black Robes by this time?"

The thin mage sniffed again. "He does not know how great the revolt has become. He suspects it is only a few disgruntled members of our Order. He does not suspect that it is a mass conversion. We will not bow down as slaves to the cur and his mistress."

"Be silent," hissed the first. "You'll draw her attention, and that is the one thing we cannot face!"

"Cannot?" Huma looked at both of them in disgust and wished they could truly see his expression. "So. You still intend for me to do all the work for you. Fine. Which way lies Galan Dracos?"

"You cannot be that mad!" It was difficult to tell which of the two had spoken.

"Which way?"

"We brought him here," said the first to the second. "We may as well get it over with."

"This is not the way we planned."

"Has anything we planned from the beginning gone as we thought? Sagathanus died the first time he spoke up against the renegades—and he was the one who recruited them, promised them that we would agree to coexistence with them! That they would no longer be hunted down and destroyed if they refused to join the Three Orders and obey the guiding laws set down by the Conclave!"

'That was our mistake! We promised them freedom to continue their abominable experiments—experiments that go beyond even our tolerant limits." Huma prevented the present argument from going any further by thrusting the tip of his blade between the faces of the two bickering spellcasters. They became stone-silent instantly.

"Galan Dracos? Last time. Where?"

The stocky mage listed a sequence of turns and distances, repeated it again, and then asked Huma if he had it memorized. Huma did.

"We shall endeavor to free the dragon if we can. If not.. ." The mage shrugged.

"What about my other companions?"

'They departed when the trap was sprung. I cannot say whether they will return. Perhaps they have scurried back to Vingaard."

Huma ignored the jibe. He was sure the others were nearby and were planning. It would be best if he continued his present course of action.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. The two magic-users literally jumped.

"Go," whispered the narrow one.

With quick steps, Huma moved away from the Black Robes. He faintly heard the sounds of voices and realized that the two were stalling for him as long as they could. Ahead he saw the shadows of armored men. Huma ducked back into another corridor and waited.

Six guards walked by silently, their attention fixed on whatever duties they had been given.

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The Black Robes were in more danger than they knew. If Huma read the situation correctly, the guardsmen were beginning the process of rounding them up—if they did not intend to kill them immediately. That would leave Huma alone to deal with Galan Dracos and his goddess of pure evil.

Huma paused at the next turn, for he was suddenly confronted by three brightly lit passages.

Voices. Huma crept closer—then froze as he recognized one.

"You know what to do with the gem, Gharis?"

"A place has been chosen. Master Galan. We will wait for your signal there."

"It's merely a safeguard, Gharis. She demanded it—but it is my signal that you will obey when the time comes. Understand?"

The one called Gharis answered with a slurring voice. Huma suspected Dracos had need to reinforce his commands with something akin to mesmerism. Apparently satisfied that he would be obeyed, Galan Dracos ordered the other to depart immediately. Huma stumbled back, but Gharis—seemingly a renegade like his master, for he wore a plain, brown cloak and not one of black—did not depart through that entrance. Instead, his footsteps dwindled away in another direction.

There was more than one entrance to the chamber. Apprehensively, Huma set off toward the chamber down another corridor. Slowly, as he edged closer, he peeked into the room.

If anything, the chamber was more a design in madness than the rest of the castle was. Huge, demonic figures lined the walls, each appearing ready to pounce upon any unsuspecting intruder. The thought made Huma shiver. Chief among the artifacts in the room was a platform seemingly made of black crystal. It rose in four tiers, upon the last of which stood a gleaming emerald sphere.

The knight pulled back quickly. Dracos was indeed there and standing before the sphere, his back turned toward Huma. The presence of the mage had been expected, but sitting calmly behind the sphere, three times the size of a man and watching intently, was a green dragon.

Huma had never seen such a dragon, and that was what disturbed him.

"You see now why I have always held the upper hand, do you not, my little friend?"

"Great is Master Galan," the young dragon hissed. It had a cruel, sly voice even for one of its kind. What little Huma knew of the green dragons revealed them to be the most sinister, for they worked most often through trickery and deceit. Open combat was not their way, but they were just as respected for their physical abilities as their minds—their convoluted, treacherous minds.

"Cyan Bloodbane teams much watching Master Galan."

The renegade's laugh was just as cold and cruel as the young dragon's voice. "Cyan Bloodbane will never grow to his full potential if he thinks to ever master me. You are an experiment. Cyan. Through me, you have come to understand the minds of humans, elves, dwarves, and all the other races as none of your kind has. When you are fully grown, your name will strike terror even in their dreams— but not if you cross me" Something began to choke uncontrollably, and Huma wondered if perhaps the dragon had decided to end the mage's arrogant speech. A moment later, he heard Cyan Bloodbane apologizing frantically.

"Master Galan is all-powerful! No more! Please!"

"This room grows too foul from your chlorine-infested breath. Depart! I will summon you when I wish your presence again."

"Master!" Wings flapped, and Huma realized that this chamber must have an outside entrance on a higher level.

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The sound of footsteps alerted him that Dracos was moving away. Huma dared peer around again and caught sight of the mage's back before the latter disappeared through another archway. The chamber torches seemed to dim as he departed. Huma took a step into the chamber. He half expected some sorcerous trap, but nothing so much as flickered.

With carefully measured steps, he made his way to the black, crystalline platform and stared at the large sphere. Perhaps, he thought, this was what his tiny guide had been drawn to. Perhaps this was how Dracos kept the existence of the castle from the outside world—or it might be—

He was struck by a wave of revulsion that made him stagger and nearly caused him to drop his sword. It was coming, he realized dimly, from the globe itself. Huma closed his eyes briefly and concentrated. The hatred vanished, to be replaced with contempt and humor as someone mocked him—mocked his very existence. Huma forced his eyes open, knowing what he would see and refusing to let it daunt him.

She was there, staring at him from somewhere, staring at him through the sphere. Takhisis.

Oddly, Huma's first thought was whether Galan Dracos knew that she could reach into this chamber. Did she suspect—as Huma was just beginning to—that, based on his commands to the mesmerized servant, Dracos plotted something against her? Surely she suspected that one as ambitious as the renegade would never be satisfied unless he controlled all. Was that perhaps why she smiled?

Smiled? There had been no true face there at first. Now, though, the Dark Queen permitted herself eyes, a nose, and a mouth. It was a feminine face, though she might very well have appeared as an armored warrior or even a tree if it suited her fancy. In truth, the more he stared, the more Huma knew that he had never seen such a beautiful face. These were the sculpted features of a queen among queens, truly an immortal. A man could easily become lost in that beauty—for eternity. For such a small price. What had the knighthood given him but misery? Because of it, he had lost his parents, Rennard, and countless comrades, including Buoron. Even his love had been taken away from him—

Lies! The fog lifted from his mind and he saw the lies behind the so-called truths. Rennard had been lost long before the knighthood; he had been responsible for the death of Huma's mother. Huma's father, Durac, had died fighting for something he believed in desperately, something he found worth dying for. As for Gwyneth—the thought remained unfinished.

Rather than strike him down, the Dark Queen merely smiled.

The face vanished. Only a touch of the evil that was the Dragonqueen remained behind to remind him what he had just experienced.

"I think it is time to end this game," said Galan Dracos suddenly.

CHAPTER 30

Galan Dracos folded his arms and stared at the knight. His thin lips were curled in a smile like a scavenger. The renegade mage reached up and pulled back the hood of his cloak so that his face was fully visible. His hair, thin and straggly, was plastered to his skull and formed a widow's peak on his forehead. The head itself was elongated, almost inhuman. The mage reached out and patted the bone-white head of one of a pair of dreadwolfs that flanked him; the motion revealed long, bony fingers ending in talons.

"And so, we come to the end. I would have wanted it no other way. You had to be here to see my triumph . . . the ultimate triumph."

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"You knew I was here?"

"The followers of Nuitari do him no credit. They are so caught up in their selfimportance that they do not realize what one can do when unconstrained by the laws set by those fools running the Conclave of the Three Orders. I wouldn't look for support from them." As Dracos spoke, Huma was gauging his options—and there were not many. A plan born of desperation filtered through his mind. Huma took a step back and held his free hand over the great sphere in which the knight, only moments before, had faced the vision of the Dragonqueen. "One motion and I shatter this. Where will your dreams be then?

"They would literally fall to pieces—if you could indeed break the globe. I offer you the opportunity to try."

Huma struck the top of the emerald sphere as hard as he could. His gauntleted hand bounced off. There was not even a single scratch on the globe.

"You see?"

Huma nodded and allowed his free hand to fall casually to his belt.

"I think—" was all Galan Dracos managed to say before Huma pulled out a sharp blade and threw it directly at the mage.

The dagger flew with accuracy. Yet, the renegade merely raised a finger and the blade slowed, arched—and blew back toward Huma. The knight dove forward and tumbled down the steps of the crystalline platform. The knife bounced off the huge green sphere and fell with a clatter to the floor.

"Pathetic. I had expected more of you after all this." Before Huma could steady himself, Dracos snapped his fingers. The knight suddenly was gripped from behind by massive hands seemingly made of stone. He struggled, trying to pry apart the thick, monstrous fingers. The unseen menace did not waver, and Huma's armor began to dig into his flesh.

"Against that wall." Dracos pointed.

Huma was whirled around and lifted up. Something cold and rocky caught hold of each wrist and then his ankles. The knight was trapped.

The rapid, precise movements had given Huma no opportunity to glimpse the mage's servant. Suddenly, Huma could see with dismay that his captor had actually been one of the gargoyles lining the room. As Huma watched, the gargoyle slowly returned to its niche. Over his shoulder, Huma could see that another gargoyle, little more than arms, held him tight against the wall.

"I see you admire my handiwork." Dracos stepped closer, and the captive knight saw that a thin layer of scales covered much of his face. The renegade was almost reptilian in appearance, and Huma found himself wondering just how much of his humanity the mage surrendered for his power.

'To be fair, I underestimated you in the beginning. I thought you only a pawn of Magius, a former friend he once more found useful. Imagine my surprise to discover that not only weren't you a pawn, but our mutual friend actually trusted you." Talk of Magius made Huma struggle, but the paws of the gargoyle permitted him no slack. He glared helplessly at the renegade, who only beamed in greater satisfaction.

"He renounced everything he had done, you know. I doubt there was a whiter robe in all of Krynn in those last few days. Pity. You should have heard the screams. My—

assistants—can be imaginative. I had to punish one for overenthusiasm. He would have killed our friend." The renegade chuckled. "I do so hate to discourage imagination, though. Not that it mattered by then. I fear that Magius was not really with us after that. He began to talk to himself— childhood things, I gather. It annoyed my servants to no end. He paid no attention to their fine work. In fact, he didn't speak again until you and I met. You must have meant a great deal to him for him to come back from whatever safe haven he had thrust his mind into." 177

Dracos shrugged. "Enough talk of the past. Let us deal now with the future—for those of us who still have one."

Huma smiled back at the mage, though his mind raced with worry. "The dragons are defeated; your renegades are defeated; Crynus and most of his Black Guard are dead. Before the day is through, the ogres will be retreating. You've lost. Within a few weeks, the war will be only a memory."

The eyes of Dracos flared, and Huma saw he had struck a nerve. When the spellcaster spoke again, his voice was rough, angry.

"Correct on all counts save one. The ogres will retreat; they are bullies at heart, and bullies are cowards. They are fodder, nothing more, and they would be quite surprised to know what little importance they would have in my world."

"Your world?"

"My world—as voice of my mistress, Takhisis, of course." Dracos executed a flawless, courtly bow.

"You have no army."

'That was the trouble with Crynus. He saw everything as a battle. Even when he conceded the benefits of my powers, he saw them only as the means to his own ends." Galan Dracos had crossed over to the dark crystalline platform and was now at the top, practically caressing the sphere. The emerald glow from it lit his face, making him look like a long-dead corpse. Huma shuddered involuntarily.

'The intensity of my power comes from my followers, both willing and unwilling. When the Black Robe, Sagathanus, found me, this was what interested him at first. I was a fool at that time, keeping no more than a few of the locals under my control—I actually had some sentiment for the foul place because it had been my place of birth." He looked up at Huma. "Have you ever heard of Culthairai? No? I am not surprised. It's a tiny farm province in the midst of Istar. Other than oats, the only thing of value they can sell are a few strong backs for mercenary troops. Imagine! The greatest mage who will ever exist—born in a worthless province!"

"It must have been terrible for you." Huma surprised himself with the comment. The reptilian features twisted into a harsh smile. "How true. No one else has been able to appreciate that. I imagine it is because you found yourself growing up under similar circumstances."

Dracos, it seemed, had learned much about him.

It was left for you. The sudden clarity of that thought overwhelmed Huma. It was not his own. Rather, it almost sounded like Magius . . . What had been left for him?

Sensing something, one of the dreadwolves trotted over to him and sniffed. Its smell of decay sickened Huma.

For his part, Dracos stared at something within the sphere, something that perhaps only he could see.

The sound of long, leathery wings caused both to look up. Cyan Bloodbane had returned without his master's permission. The look in the young green dragon's eyes spoke of fear.

"Master Galan! The ogres begin to break! My brethren flee in panic—the cowards!

What shall we do?"

Dracos was actually jubilant. "The time has come. The level of chaos is at a peak unprecendented since before the Age of Dreams." To the anxious dragon he replied, "Leave us! I will not have your stench fouling this room at such a time!" The young dragon departed in haste. Dracos summoned the two dreadwolves, who began to shiver uncontrollably.

178

Huma watched with disgust and amazement. He could actually see the life essence—if that was what one called it— depart from the two ghoulish abominations. They did not even struggle. Galan Dracos removed his hands from the two gaunt, motionless forms. The dreadwolves crumbled to ash.

"Fear is Chaos. War is Chaos. Chaos is unlimited power. It is a power that even the gods respect. Do you understand?"

Huma blinked. In his morbid fascination over the destruction of the two dreadwolves, he had not been listening. "What are you going to do?"

"This." The mage stroked the globe. "This is the key to creating a conduit between our plane and the Abyss. A portal or gateway to the Dragonqueen's domain beyond. Understand this: When gods come to the mortal plane—I mean truly come to the mortal plane—they are but shadows of their true selves. Which is not to say that they are weak. Far from it. However, their counterparts have them at a disadvantage."

The knight's eyes brightened with understanding. "Which is why the Dragonqueen has never been far from the gateway she has created. She fears that Paladine will strike at her during some moment of crisis. Now, though, you have created a way that she can draw upon her full strength even while on our world."

Galan Dracos tensed, then smiled coldly. A tremor seemed to shake the citadel, but the mage paid it no mind. "You are more astute than I thought. Still, the small matter of your interference will be history before long."

Almost! A vague image flickered into and out of Huma's memory.

"Consider yourself honored. You are about to witness an event that will change all of Krynn!"

With that remark, the great emerald sphere flared with stronger intensity. Galan Dracos pulled his hood forward again and summoned a pale, bone-colored staff from thin air. Huma's eyes focused completely on the renegade's staff. That was the key! The staff of Magius. Dropped by his companion after his capture by the Black Guard. Dropped? Left behind by its owner, more likely. Magius easily could have summoned it at any time just the way Galan Dracos had summoned his own.

What was he supposed to do though? Where was it now?

The torches flickered as the renegade raised high his own staff. He seemed to be drawing the flames to him. The chamber grew darker.

'Takhisis, great queen, mistress of the dark, the time has come to fully open the portal!

The time has come to let your full power flow from your domain into this one!'

The staff of Magius was temporarily forgotten. Huma watched in horror as the wall behind the sphere began to warp and twist, as some mad dreamscape. Then, slowly, that part of the building seemed to completely fall away.

It was not the mountains, though, that stood revealed by the spell. Rather, it was a dark and chaotic landscape that seemed to spill into a gaping, endless pit from which no light could escape.

Even as Huma watched, the landscape changed again. It was wooded now, but the trees were either dead or dying, and they were as black as night. Next, it became a burning desert from which the bones of forgotten travelers protruded. Within moments, it was a veritable sea of bones.

"What is it?" Huma thought he knew, but he hoped that the mage would deny it. Galan Dracos turned from the maddening scene and stared through narrowed eyes at the knight. "That is the domain of my mistress—that is the Abyss."

"It keeps changing."

"It is your mind that is perceiving changes. The Abyss is based on one's experiences. In this case, yours. I have learned to control such unconscious thoughts." 179

Galan Dracos stepped down from the platform and approached Huma, who struggled vainly. The citadel shook again, but Dracos seemed still unaware of it. He reached up a taloned hand to the knight's forehead.

"You needn't worry." The renegade's tone was patronizing. "I have neither the time nor the power to spend on you. I'm simply going to block your thoughts from the Abyss. Like putting up a wall."

Huma's head was knocked back by a percussive force. For a brief moment, all thought vanished. Soon, Dracos was atop the platform again. He tapped his ivory staff twice and began muttering in some magical tongue. The emerald sphere gleamed like a miniature sun. The castle shook again.

'The bond with the Abyss is secure!" the renegade shouted out triumphantly. Something glimmered within the globe. Dracos caused his staff to vanish and put both hands on the glowing artifact. He stared into it, oblivious to the near-blinding light. The muttering renewed,

Huma summoned the staff by thought.

He could not say whether the thought was his own or, as he half-believed, that of the vengeful spirit of Magius. He only knew that he had to concentrate on calling the staff of the dead mage, and he had to do it now.

So simple—now that he knew. One minute his hands were empty, the next his left held the compacted version of the staff. His eyes suddenly widened as he felt a quiver in the palm that clutched the magic item. As if moving with a life of its own, it turned in his hand and tapped the stone claw that held his wrist.

The gargoyle released his wrist.

Galan Dracos was still facing the sphere. His hands were outstretched as if imploring some private god.

Huma freed his right wrist.

Dracos shouted incomprehensibly. The glow from the globe had spread to encompass the mage. He was taller now. Huma stared at the sphere. Energy seemed to swirl chaotically within it. The citadel shook violently this time.

"No!" This time, Dracos seemed to be talking to someone else. 'The flow is too great!

I need to draw more power or the energy will overwhelm me!" Huma did not understand the words, but he knew he had to break the link between the planes. If Takhisis was drawing on that power—

This time, the tremor was so violent that several gargoyles tipped forward and smashed on the floor. Galan Dracos's expression did not change when he saw that Huma was free; he only muttered something under his breath and then immediately returned his attention to his spell. The moment Huma was free, the staff, as if alive, began to stretch and widen. It was growing as it had before.

Gargoyles were suddenly stepping from their niches, creating a hodgepodge collection of monstrosities that all had one thing in mind—the death of Huma. Having been trained in the quarterstaff, Huma found the mage's staff effective as such a weapon. Each touch sent sparks flying, and the gargoyles might as well have been made of butter for the way it cut through them. Still, a severed limb or decapitation was not sufficient to stop even one of the creatures. They came at him from all directions, and Huma knew the renegade would never run out of unliving servants. Nevertheless, he fought with all his determination and faith in Paladine.

Huma knew he needed only one good swing at Dracos, but the gargoyles were pressing him in from all sides and the staff was virtually useless at such close quarters. Unless something happened, he had only seconds left before the crush of stone creatures brought him down.

180

"Huuuuummaaa!"

The voice came from above, shouting down even the reverberations of the citadel. What was Dracos doing? Did he need to bring down the mountains themselves?

"Huuuummaaa!"

Huma could see her now.

"Gwyneth!"

She spied him and spiraled down even as a gargoyle knocked the staff from Huma's hand. The silver dragon roared and struck out at the nearest of the stone creatures. They shattered into sand. She flew up, around, and then back down to attack once more. Several of the gargoyles were turning away from Huma to attack this new foe. Gwyneth found herself being dragged down by the combined weight of four of the animals who had attached themselves to her underside. Roaring more from annoyance than pain, she whirled as best she could in the wide chamber in an attempt to throw the gargoyles from her. They clung tight, though, and she was forced to fly upward and out of the room in order to shake them off. Even so, the silver dragon had bought Huma time. He grabbed the staff of Magius and whirled again, eliminating the nearest attacker with his first swing. The others attempted to close once more.

Several figures came rushing toward the room. Black Guard. The ebony-armored figures paused in the archway and gaped at what they saw.

Huma glimpsed the mad gaze of Dracos as he briefly turned toward his soldiers. A light much like the glow of the emerald sphere glittered in his eyes. He spoke a single word, the strain of even that causing him to flinch.

A thin, deadly bolt of green energy originating from the globe whipped toward the unsuspecting warriors with frightening speed. It split into two and then into four separate bolts before it was halfway to them. Belatedly, the guardsmen realized their plight and turned to run. Four did not even have time to move. They were harpooned like fish by the bolts of energy and dragged into the chamber. Huma shivered. The spell seemed to be as much in control of Galan Dracos as he was of the spell. The knight doubted the renegade really even knew what he had done. All that mattered to Dracos now was the power. The other guardsmen fled. From his vantage, Huma watched helplessly as another bolt issued forth, this time at him.

It slammed into his chest, the very force of it spilling over to strike a host of the gargoyles. At first, Huma felt his energy literally being drained from him. Then something repelled the parasitic bolt and sent it writhing back into the emerald globe. Huma felt his chest and discovered the medallion given to him by Avondale. A medallion for a cleric of Paladine.

"Huma! The castle is breaking up!"

A gargoyle fell to its knees. Another simply collapsed. Huma turned to find himself facing Galan Dracos. The renegade had a crazed look on his already inhuman face.

"I—I will bend—bend it to my will! I am Dracos, greatest mage ever to live!" The mage revealed his staff again and tapped it on the platform three times. "Shurak!

Gestay Shurak Kaok!"

The gargoyles had lost all semblance of life. As they collapsed around Huma, the silver dragon materialized again and flew to him. Dracos made no move toward them, did not even see them. Instead, he was grinning at the heavens. His form coursed with energy.

"I have done it, mistress! The power is mine!"

So caught up in his apparent triumph, the renegade did not see the image that formed in the emerald sphere. A mocking face, an inhuman face. Even as Huma watched, the face within the globe split and became two. Then three. The faces twisted, became reptilian. Dragons. Five heads at least. All mocking.

"Huma, we must leave!"

181

"I cannot!" Huma stared at the Dragonlances that Gwyneth carried. They were too awkward for his purposes. Even the footman's lance was unwieldy. Then his eyes came to rest on the staff of Magius. An impulse came to him.

He hefted the staff. Words he could not understand flowed from his mouth, and the staff was suddenly luminous. He threw it with all his might.

The staff missed Galan Dracos, but neither was he the target. Instead, the staff, so much like a spear, flew with perfect accuracy at the very center of the glowing sphere. It seemed to hesitate when the tip made contact with the artifact, but then it continued through, shattering all resistance.

"Don't look!" Huma cried to Gwyneth.

The emerald sphere exploded with a roar.

The citadel shook—and the chamber tipped—as the castle felt the impact of the artifact's destruction.

"Huma!" The silver dragon nudged him. "We must flee! Hurry!" He regained his footing, partially clutching one of her wings. A quick glance showed him that the platform was being engulfed in a greenish inferno that seemed to cover the entire wall.

From without, something roared.

"Paladine!" he whispered. It could not be! Huma could imagine only one creature that could emit such a deafening, earth-shaking cry. A dragon. A giant dragon. A titan with five heads, he suspected. Takhisis.

"Yyyyoooouuu!"

Huma forgot the roar and whirled back to the blaze where this new cry had originated. Something slowly emerged from the emerald fire. It blazed but did not burn. It walked on two legs but was no longer human in any way. It raised a taloned claw that had once been a hand. A demonic face with twisted features, like some distorted serpent, was evident under the torn and tattered remains of a hood.

"Hhhuuuuummmaaaaa!"

Galan Dracos stumbled forward.

"I will see you dead!"

Something with tendrils shot out toward him—and was daunted by what momentarily seemed a silver shield. Galan Dracos took a step back.

"You have your—your patron as well! Pity it is too late for Krynn!" The face twisted. Huma took a step forward. Gwyneth began to protest, but the knight stared her into silence. Then he slowly began to walk toward the mad mage.

'Too many people have perished because of you, Galan Dracos. As Paladine as my witness, I cannot allow you to remain free. It must end here." When Dracos finally spoke, his voice was under control. He stared off into the distance.

"Yes. It will end here. With the victorious—with my treachery unmasked. I have gambled and I have lost." Dracos turned back to Huma and then seemed to shrug. The renegade stumbled back to the edge of the inferno. His legs could barely walk anymore. He relied more and more on his staff.

Huma came purposefully toward him. "I cannot let you go." The deformed mage laughed, a laugh that seemed to go on much too long. The eyes of Galan Dracos were narrow slits that gleamed. "I'll not wait for the Queen's justice. I prefer oblivion to that. She shall not have my damned spirit to toy with for eternity." Galan Dracos, master mage, renegade, spoke a single word.

182

The emerald flames engulfed him. Whatever immunity he had was discarded. Huma covered his eyes as the fire flickered more brightly. When he looked again, there was nothing remaining of the mage.

"He burned himself."

"No." The silver dragon shook her head. "He's ceased to exist. It was that last spell he unleashed. It's as if he never was. Before long, those who ever knew him will never remember—save his former mistress, I think." She frowned. "He's actually escaped from the Dragonqueen. Amazing."

The citadel began to shift downward again.

"Huma!" Her momentary fascination faded immediately as Gwyneth realized the danger.

"Yes!" He began to climb atop her, then stopped. "No! The staff of Magius! I have to see—"

"Is that the small rod on your belt?"

He looked down. On his right side, stuck securely through his pouch belt, was a familiar, foot-long stick. "How—"

Gwyneth finally grew exasperated. "I will explain to you about magic some other day!

Huma, as Paladine is my witness, I love you! I will not see you die here if I can help it!" At those words, he scrambled clumsily aboard. Each moment she stayed risked her own existence—and for what? His hesitations, his fears.

Yet she loved him.

The silver dragon rose swiftly into the air.

"Lie flat against me—and hold the Dragonlance straight!" she cried. The citadel continued to shift as it slid downward. The gargoyles were tossed like rags. Parts of the chamber began to break off. A portion of the upper passage collapsed. Now the silver dragon would not be able to escape through its narrow funnel. Huma heard her shout something in one of the magical tongues. He heard masonry shatter, and then bits of rock flew by his head.

"Steady! This is it!'

He felt the Dragonlance as it cut into the thick, stone wall, enlarging the gap. Gwyneth's wings folded back, and she glided up like an arrow shot from a bow. Huma knew she was shielding him with her own body as much as possible.

Then they were out. Huma realized he had been holding his breath, and exhaled. The silver dragon spiraled upward. From above, they could see that a green blaze now engulfed much of the castle.

What remained standing of the mage's tower stood perched momentarily over the precipice. It weaved there, then slowly began to tip over. First the tower went, a great shaft that tipped forward and then plummeted over.

Huma turned his eyes up to the heavens. "Paladine!"

A new and greater darkness had come suddenly.

"Huma . . ." The silver dragon's voice was unsteady. He followed her gaze to the very top of the same peak that the citadel of Galan Dracos had fallen from. Something huge, multi-headed, and radiating evil gazed their direction. Huma—Champion of Paladine. Come to me. Come to my embrace. Takhisis.

CHAPTER 31

The near-hypnotic Quality of the Dragonqueen’s call was broken by a familiar voice. 183

"Huma! Thank the gods! We were afraid you had fallen with the citadel!" He turned in the saddle. Bennett and Kaz rode near him. Kaz quickly explained, "We sent the others to seek aid. Only, Sargas!—what is that?" Bennett's voice was drained of emotion. "It is the Dragonqueen, is it not?" Huma only nodded. He stared up at the shadowy monstrosity above them. The portal through which the Dark Queen had come was expanding, and she seemed to be growing more solid, more real.

A thought struck the knight. He reached down to his side for the compacted staff of Magius and handed it to Bennett. 'Take this back to Vingaard Keep. It must be turned over to the Conclave. As ruling mages, they'll know what to do with it. It belonged to Magius, and I fear that it won't be of much use to me anymore."

Kaz and Bennett looked at one another.

Huma fixed each of them with a gaze. "It must be told that Dracos is no more. I also need you to organize the lancers. Bennett, you are the son of one Grand Master and the nephew of another. You were born to lead.

"I will draw the Dark Queen's ire for as long as I can, but a mass attack remains our only true chance. There must be at least a hundred lances left. Then, Paladine willing, we will be able to count for something."

Bennett shook his head. "Huma, this is a goddess! We are less than a single breath to her!"

"But we are Knights of Solamnia," Huma responded, "a knighthood forged by the holy Triumvirate of which Paladine is senior. Our mission has been to keep the justice and see that evil never holds sway over Krynn. This is our ultimate test. This is where we truly test ourselves against the Oath and the Measure."

The other knight could think of no response. Bennett's face had reddened slightly.

"I have no time to argue. Return, Bennett. Kaz, go with him," Huma said. The minotaur looked down at his mount, then back at Huma. "I agree that one of us should return, and it is right that it be Bennett. But I will stay. I swore an oath, too, and I have not yet proved myself. And Bolt thinks as I do."

Huma sighed. "Kaz, I cannot stop you. Bennett, do your duty." Bennett gritted his teeth, but nodded. At a signal, his silver dragon turned—but not before meeting the gaze of Gwyneth. Some message passed between them, and Huma remembered that here was kin of his own dragon. Parting was no easier for them. When Bennett was gone, Huma turned to the minotaur. "Now." The two dragons rose higher and higher. Above them, Takhisis's five-headed dragon form seemed to waver. The entire mountain, and even the heavens above, were being warped by a vast hole in the fabric of the sky itself. The gateway from which the Dragonqueen had materialized in this world. The portal through which she had drawn her absolute power with the help of the unlamented Galan Dracos. Her full power was cut off from her because Huma had shattered the emerald sphere, but the gateway remained. And Takhisis already had the power she had drawn earlier. Never in her invasions of the mortal plane had she ever been so strong.

Enchanting. Even more interesting than your constant need to argue with one another over hopeless causes.

The cold, cruel thoughts buffeted Huma's mind.

I will have to gather a few such as you and study this amusing, transitory thing called love. It seems so . . . wasteful.

At least Huma had some satisfaction in that he knew Takhisis could never experience any of the emotions he felt. They would ever be a mystery to one such as her. In that, she was less than any mortal.

184

Teach me, then.

Though he knew her dragon form still perched atop the mountain, he also saw the graceful, enticing figure of a raven-haired enchantress, clad in the thinnest of dark silks. When she smiled, it was as if for the first time anyone had truly done so. I could be whatever you desire me to be. You could show me this love you think so much of. I would be a very willing student.

In his mind, the seductive form turned to the side slightly, revealing new and provocative poses. Huma found it impossible to concentrate. She was beautiful beyond compare, and she was willing to learn what it meant to love, to be a mortal. If he could show her what it meant, then Krynn might never again have to know evil or suffering. There was added—and it weighed heavily—the interesting aspects that would surely be involved in teaching her.

She smiled and seemed to hold out a slim, perfectly sculpted hand. Huma felt a warmth on his chest. Involuntarily, he clutched at it. A familiar object seemed to fall into his hand.

"No!" he shouted on impulse. "I will not fall to your dark charms! You cannot ever know love or life and I want no part of you. My love is for another!" He felt a jolt beneath him, as if Gwyneth had caught herself. He had no more time to think of her, because the Dragonqueen once again clutched his thoughts. You might have known joy such as no man has ever known. You might have commanded my armies, for no warrior has proved more resourceful, more adaptable, and more determined than you. You could have been second only to me, and I would have rewarded you beyond your expectations.

A horrible wind rose up. The silver dragon was nearly swept against the mountainside, and Bolt and Kaz fell behind. Huma gripped the Dragonlance with one hand and fingered the medallion of Paladine with the other. With both of them, he was able to maintain hope. Very well! You have rejected me. You have opened the doorway to your own destruction—and that of the one you love.

Unable to know love, the Dark Queen was all too familiar with hate.

"Huuummmaaa!"

The knight turned back briefly and saw Bolt being forced to land on a rocky ledge. Kaz was clutching the saddle, desperately.

This is between us now, oh, so mortal Knight of Solamnia! You will beg for forgiveness for all you have done! You will plead with me for an end to the agony, but it will not be until the end of eternity that I may even consider granting it. Huma recalled the choice made by Galan Dracos: oblivion of body and soul rather than the tender "justice" of the Queen of Darkness. This from one who had no compassion, who had cruelly tortured Magius, and who had sent thousands to their needless deaths. In the end, there had been only fear for Dracos, fear at the thought of being at the mercy of his mistress.

First will I batter your physical form to jelly—but you will not die. Then I will take your mind and reveal to it the full dark beauty of my domain. Madness will not save you. I will not allow it. Then I will take your love and treat her to only the finest of my—

entertainments—while you helplessly watch,

Huma had seen wonders and terrors that few men had faced, and only his belief in Paladine and the justice and good the god represented had saved him. Each time, that belief had strengthened him. Huma had come to love Krynn as much as Paladine, and he was willing to sacrifice all for the sake of the world if it meant the defeat of darkness. Rather than urge Gwyneth back, Huma pressed her on.

The silver dragon obeyed. She would not abandon him.

185

You are fools. Bigger fools than Dracos, who believed he could become a god. His escape to oblivion saved him from my tender mercy. What will save you?

It was as if a curtain had suddenly been drawn away. The Dragonqueen stood watching, her beauty breathtaking and terrible at the same time. Each head of the gigantic dragon mocked him. Five in all, and each one representing one of her children. Cunning and cruel green. Tenacious white. Powerfully destructive red. Unpredictable black. Dominating blue.

They swerved sinuously back and forth, as if weaving a hypnotic spell. Never did their eyes leave Huma. Never did a single head pause in its movements. The Dark Queen was well over sixty feet of pure power. Each movement was grace and strength incarnate. In each movement, no matter how subtle, she revealed the foolishness of daring to forestall her will.

Now you see. Now you know.

The quick, tinier white dragon suddenly exhaled in his direction. Huma barely saw the cone of intense frost projected at him, but Gwyneth swerved easily and flew out of range. The Dragon of Many Colors and of None—the ancient name came back to Huma—

laughed scathingly. The attack had been no more than play to the goddess, as a cat plays with a mouse before eating it whole.

Wind continued to whip around, and the silver dragon veered perilously close to the side of the mountain. The heads of the Dragonqueen laughed in amusement. There was a slight hesitation in the actions of the godly leviathan as Huma's mind shifted. She also was mocking him no longer. The focus of each pair of eyes was more intense, as if she studied him anew. The massive wings spread in what Huma might have termed the anxiousness of a normal dragon.

Huma signaled to Gwyneth. She turned, gave herself plenty of space from the terrible form of the Dragonqueen, and turned to face the goddess. Huma's hand steadied the Dragonlance. The five heads froze in position.

The knight signaled again.

The tempest unleashed by the Dragonqueen increased tenfold, forcing both Kaz and Bolt to seek safety at the innermost part of the ledge. They had only a brief glimpse as the silver dragon defied the ripping winds and the sudden torrential downpour, and continued forward with ever-increasing speed. Then knight and dragon vanished as they neared the top of the peak.

Kaz muttered a prayer to every god of Paladine's house that his hazy memory could recall. He saved his last and longest for the Platinum Dragon—the god known to humans as Paladine.

Chilling frost. Quick, deadly lightning. A hissing stream of poisonous gas. Bright flame. Sputtering and splattering acid.

Each head unleashed its power against the two. Gwyneth turned and dodged, dodged and turned, then spiraled as she sought to escape one hideous attack after another. Sometimes even her skill was not enough. Acid burned a multitude of tiny holes in her wings. Flames singed her back. Huma maintained his grip on the Dragonlance despite all. As yet, they had made no strike against the Dragonqueen. That she had not struck them down with all her powers was of vital interest. It meant that the Queen of Darkness had but a fragile hold on her increased strength. She was seeking to do much, spreading her power too thin, extending too many disparate spells.

Gwyneth unleashed a cone of frost at the green head of the goddess, who shook it off as one might shake a leaf.

186

Jaws snapped dangerously close. Huma glimpsed the head of a red dragon as Gwyneth flew out of reach.

When she turned toward the Dragonqueen one more time, Huma saw that the great creature was at last rising from the peak. No longer did the Dark Lady believe her victory assured. She was taking the battle to Huma, determined to prolong this fight no more than necessary.

Seen in the air, the Dragonqueen was at least ten times larger than the silver dragon. Her wingspan covered the sky. Each of her foreclaws could have taken the head of Huma's companion and crushed it easily.

I am bored with games. You flutter like a butterfly.

The silver dragon started, and Huma realized that this was the fist time Takhisis had spoken to Gwyneth.

The black head of Takhisis shouted something in a magical tongue. Knight and dragon were suddenly plunged into darkness.

A roar.

Claws raked the air above Huma. The silver dragon dropped at the last instant. The Dragonlance still glowed, the only illumination in the sky.

Light? You cannot have light!

Even Huma had not noticed it at first, but it was true. The darkness became shadow, and the shadow became light again. Takhisis hovered, infuriated by the power of the Dragonlance.

Paladine cannot protect you forever!

"Huma" the silver dragon called to him, her breath painfully short, "I cannot evade her much longer."

Huma touched the medallion hanging on the center of his chest. He nodded. "It is time we met her."

Come to me, then. Meet my embrace.

"I offer you the same chance I gave to Galan Dracos, Dark Queen. I offer you the chance to surrender."

You jest in the time of your destruction, mortal Huma. I find your humor interesting. I shall have an eternity to amuse myself.

Huma steadied the Dragonlance so that it pointed directly toward the center of the Dragonqueen's great form.

"See if I am jesting. This is the power of Paladine. No mortal weapon can strike you down—but the Dragonlance is no mortal weapon."

You are mortal, though, Knight of Solamnia.

Huma dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"I am a Knight of Solamnia. I am the hand of Paladine, of Kiri-Jolith, and of Habbakuk on this world. You are on Krynn. You are mine, Queen of Darkness." He kicked Gwyneth in the sides, and she burst forward with new energy. The Dragonlance shone brightly.

A strange thing happened.

It seemed to Huma that the armor he wore became brighter, felt different. To the look and touch it appeared as platinum. Gone were the dents and tears he had accumulated. His gauntleted hand seemed to glow with the same brilliance as the lance. He recalled then the vision he had had and the sculpture from which he had taken the first of the lances. Below him, Gwyneth was also transformed. She was longer, sleeker, and far more beautiful. She was a gleaming white charger, a platinum dragon, a majestic kingfisher. All he saw might have been illusion—but did the Dragonqueen see the same thing?

187

He could not be sure. Huma only knew that the huge chromatic beast hesitated again. This time, dragon met dragon. Claws and teeth struck out. The Dragonlance was only momentarily impeded. Huma braced himself for contact.

The Dragonqueen had not counted on her own momentum to such an extreme. Her body tipped forward and the Dragonlance suddenly found the unprotected neck of the centermost head.

Ichor splattered Huma. Some of it burned his injured leg, momentarily startling him from his almost trancelike state. Huma forced the thought of pain from his mind. Takhisis shuddered uncontrollably as pain coursed through her. Her scream literally shook the mountains and was heard over miles. Four heads turned blindly to the source of that pain. The fifth, the blue one, dangled awkwardly, useless now. Takhisis clawed wildly. In vain, she tried to pry the Dragonlance from its bind, but the silver dragon would not back off. The four remaining heads snapped at the silver dragon, at Gwyneth.

The Queen of Darkness had never felt pain before, Huma realized. Takhisis clawed and bit at them in her agony. Huma signaled Gwyneth to retreat. To his horror, he discovered that the lance would not come loose. The silver dragon was beginning to bleed heavily, and Huma saw that she was covered with a vast number of ragged, dripping cuts. Her tattered wings flapped slowly and her breathing became more shallow.

The Dragonqueen continued screaming and her wings thrashed back and forth. The mounting for the Dragonlance bent considerably. Huma tried in vain to steady the lance. The back end of the weapon suddenly shot upward, striking him soundly in the side of the head. Huma fell back, dazed and bleeding.

He heard something snap.

With gargantuan effort, he pulled himself forward—and found only splinters remained of the mounting. Takhisis had stripped him of the lance.

Where was she?

"Hu—uma."

"Gwyneth!" He leaned forward. She was breathing irregularly and each movement of her mouth dripped with blood.

"She—I—down there. I—cannot—"

Her wings froze in midmotion.

They began plummeting toward the mountainside. He screamed her name once before they hit. Then he felt his body thrown from the saddle, and all was night. When he awoke, the world was red. Blood. Blood and pain. For hours, it seemed, he just lay there. His eyes were stinging red and his vision was bleary. All he could really see were shapes. The winds still howled.

There was nothing he could do about the pain. It coursed through his body. His wounded leg was numb.

With great effort, Huma raised himself to a sitting position.

Huma attempted to rise then, but he only fell over, face first, into the cool earth of the mountainside. His mind again blazed with pain.

He crawled now. He saw no sign of Gwyneth or the Dragonqueen. The knight managed to pull himself along, inch by inch.

As he struggled, something near the top of the mountain caught his attention. A hand. A human hand.

He was not quite sure where the reserves of energy came from, but Huma succeeded in pulling himself up toward the figure lying near an outcropping. 188

"Gwyneth."

She had shifted to her human form. The wounds that covered her natural form were no less terrible. One arm lay twisted beneath her. Her face was now as pale as her silvery hair. Her breath came in short, rasping shudders. Time and again, she twitched uncontrollably and small sounds of pain, akin to what an animal might make, escaped her cracked and bleeding lips. There were bleeding cuts and dark bruises all over her body. It was a marvel that she lived.

His mouth open in a soundless cry, Huma dragged himself to her side, ignoring his raw, bloody hands and the agony that jolted him continuously from within. When he reached her, he finally noticed that, with her good arm, she clutched the footman's Dragonlance as if it were life itself. Even as torn and battered as she was, Gwyneth had saved the smaller Dragonlance, knowing that it was the only weapon that could save them if the Dragonqueen returned.

He repeated Gwyneth's name.

Something roared. Gwyneth's eyes opened wide and she stared straight up.

"Huma?"

"Rest. Kaz or someone will come."

"No!" Her eyes teared. "Takhisis! You mustn't let her go free!" The knight looked up. Something thrashed beyond the rise. Something huge and in terrible pain. The roar came again.

"She—" Gwyneth coughed up blood. "Sooner or later, she will overcome the Dragonlance. You have to do—do something before she does."

"What can I do?" Huma could barely prop himself up.

'Take this." She indicated the smaller Dragonlance. "I—I managed to save it." Gwyneth suddenly clutched at him. "Are you hurt badly? Let me help you!"

"Forget me. Forget the Dragonqueen. What is happening to you? Why are you human?

Are you healing yourself?"

"It—it doesn't matter. The fall only—hastened the damage. I only thank Paladine that y—you are still alive."

"Don't talk anymore."

She couldn't be dying, Huma thought in horror.

I – I can save her, mortal!

The wind suddenly seemed frigid. Huma stood silently as the words sank in. How? he thought.

Sh—sh—the pain! She is not beyond me yet! Release me fro—from this agony and I will gladly restore you both! I swear it by—by the beyond! I swear it, highgod!

Huma looked down to see Gwyneth looking up at him intently. Her breathing was faint.

"What is it?"

"She offers us—you—life."

"In return for what?"

He hesitated. "Her release."

"Hu—" Gwyneth coughed uncontrollably. She closed her eyes. For a moment, the knight was afraid she was gone. She opened her eyes again, though, and fixed her gaze on him. "You cannot kill her—that is not possible. But you cannot release her, either. All Krynn will suffer for her torment. My life is not—not worth that." She paused. The strain of speaking was using up what little strength she had left.

Huma draped her with his body so that the harsh wind did not strike her full force. "I won't let you die."

"You don't have any choice." She smiled faintly.

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"You can't," Huma stammered, then finally spoke the words he had long ago admitted to himself. "I love you. I am ashamed I could not say it before. I will not lose you." Her face became radiant despite the fearsome wounds.

"I want—want—you to remember me as I am now— now, for this is truly me. I first truly lived as a human." She took a deep breath. "I loved as a human." Her hand slipped from him. "I will die as a human— knowing at last that you—" Gwyneth closed her eyes as pain wracked her. Huma held her as she quivered. "—you—" The shaking subsided. The knight loosened his hold. Gwyneth's eyes were closed and in her deathly visage there was now an odd serenity.

"Gwyneth?"

Moortaal! It isss not too late!

Huma lowered her head.

A tail flickered briefly in sight and then vanished again behind the rise. The sky was dark once more. The portal, Takhisis's gateway to and from the Abyss, had dwindled to a mere shadow of its former sinister majesty—yet it was still there. Seizing hold of the Dragonlance, Huma began to drag himself toward the rise. His actions were involuntary; his mind contained only vague thoughts about what might have been. He no longer existed in the present. He was not even aware that he had reached the rise until he found himself looking at the Dragonqueen.

She lay some distance below in a crater shaped by her fall.

Huma lay there for a long time. Breath came hard to him now, and he realized that his ribs must be broken. The scene faded in and out, again and again. Somehow, he managed to pull the Dragonlance up to the top of the ridge and force it over, point first. The chill wind no longer bothered him. It only served to clear his mind for the purpose at hand.

What—are you doing?

The Dragonqueen's thoughts suddenly flickered into his head. He was so startled, he nearly dropped the lance over the side. Pulling it back, he used it to bring himself to a wobbly standing position.

The Dragonlance readied like a spear, Huma stared down at the thrashing goddess.

She lay on her back, her wings folded awkwardly behind her. The four remaining heads snapped wildly at the severed Dragonlance still embedded in her form. The weapon sparked each time the heads came near, and again and again they pulled away in pain.

"Hear me," said Huma.

... At first, there was only the thrashing and the horrible cries of pain and fury. "Hear me," he repeated.

Mortal. . . what is it you want?

The huge dragon attempted to rise. And failed.

"You are beaten, Takhisis, Dragonqueen."

I am not! I cannot be!

"Your armies are being routed. Your renegades are dead or scattered. The Conclave will hunt them down. Such will be watched more closely in the future. There will never again be another Galan Dracos."

More time passed. The Dragonqueen was visibly struggling for control. What do you want, mortal?

'The balance must be maintained. Without good, evil cannot grow. Without evil, good stagnates. I know I cannot kill you."

Release me, then!

Huma stumbled back at the intensity of the moment. The Dragonlance almost slipped from his grasp. "First, you must surrender."

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The wind had ceased. The sky was strangely clear, bun-light warmed Huma's body. The portal was nearly nonexistent. The form of the Dragonqueen had become very still. She almost seemed-dead. Huma pulled the lance away from the edge and leaned over. A dragon's head, emerald green, shot up. Huma pulled back too late. A thick, hissing stream of noxious, green gas shot forth enveloping him before he could even think. He fell forward and this time his grip on the lance loosened completely. It clattered down the ridge. The hapless knight also fell, toward the Dragonqueen. He screamed with each bounce against the rock-strewn side of the crater. If he had been in pain before, now he learned the meaning of agony. He screamed and screamed, but he did not die.

You still live! What does it take to kill you? You are only mortal!

Despite the pain, then, he laughed.

"I belong to Paladine. I belong to Gwyneth. Neither will ever let you have me." Huma pulled himself upward. He coughed and his hands shook. He had inhaled too much of the gas. The fall had wracked his body and it was all Huma could do to keep himself sitting up, so violently did his head swim. He knew that despite his words, he did not have much time left.

"They are coming, Takhisis."

Who?

'The other Dragonlances. More than a hundred. A hundred times the pain and agony. I offered you a chance. They will not be so willing. You know that." They cannot kill me!

"They can give you eternal suffering."

They cannot! The balance! You spoke of it!

"What do they care about the balance? So much better to have peace; that is what they will say."

A long pause. Huma started to close his eyes, then fought to open them yet one more time.

"You will never free yourself before they arrive. Even if I die, they will still have you. A goddess at the mercy of mortals."

What do you want?

It was evidently a strain for her to continue. Only one head still stared in Huma's direction. The other three wavered uncontrollably.

"Withdraw from Krynn."

I -

"Withdraw now!"

Very well.

"Withdraw your dragons as well. Never again must they come to Krynn. Take them with you."

A long pause.

"Swear to it," he added.

She hesitated.

I do.

"I want to hear you swear by that you hold most holy." Both witnessed the single dragon flying overhead and heard the call of its rider, a voice familiar to Huma.

Kaz. His voice was shaky and the dragon was visibly weary, but they circled above, ready to close.

"Your time is short, Queen."

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I swear that I shall withdr— withdraw—she writhed in pain and for one moment Huma thought he might be crushed beneath her form— withdraw from Krynn along with my children for so long as the world is whole. So do I swear by—

She said it. By the beyond. By the highgod.

Bolt had landed nearby, vigilant. Kaz, disregarding the looming presence of the foul Dragonqueen, raced to Huma's side.

"You've won! You've defeated her!" Kaz stopped abruptly, and his expression became serious. "As I am your witness, Huma. I—I will remember as I remember my ancestors." Huma silenced him with a look. "Kaz, you must pull the Dragonlance from her body."

"What?" Kaz rose and stared at Huma as if the knight was bereft of his senses.

"Release her? She will wreak havoc all over! We will die—if we are lucky!" Huma shook his head, "No. She. Swore. I can—promise you that she will—" He wanted to shut his eyes. "—she will depart."

"I cannot!"

"Kaz." Huma grimaced. "I promised her. It—it is a question of my honor. You understand honor. We say—say 'Est Sularis Oth Mithas' in the old tongue. 'My Honor is My Life.'"

The minotaur looked from the knight to the goddess, silent now, shuddering with pain.

"Hurry. The lance. My honor. The others—they won't let you." Reluctantly, the minotaur moved. "My honor—" he said, half to himself, his eyes riveted on the task, "—is my life."

The heads of the Dragonqueen swerved his way, but only one, treacherous green, remained fixed on Kaz. The others merely weaved back and forth, as if all control had been lost.

The lance was lodged deeply at the base of the neck of the blue head. With great distaste and more than a little trepidation, Kaz climbed atop Takhisis, the Dark Queen. The green dragon head eyed him intently.

In an act of mad bravado, the huge warrior snorted with disdain. He flinched when it looked as if the head were about to strike, but then the head turned to gaze grimly at the source of the Queen's agony.

"Gods," muttered Kaz, then clamped his mouth shut when he thought about the oath. He had reached the Dragonlance. Getting a solid grip on it, the minotaur heaved. The Dragonlance slid free without the slightest resistance. Kaz lost his footing and went tumbling off the gargantuan form, the lance still in his hands. A horrible, mind-numbing laugh filled the air.

Kaz came to a stop, turned over, and stared—up.

She was there in all her infernal glory. Wings spread, enveloping the sky. All five heads looked up to the heavens and laughed. The pain, the wounds—it was as if they had never been.

Five terrible dragon heads looked down at the helpless and battered knight, then at the minotaur who had freed her. Each draconian visage wore a malevolent smile. The sky burst into flames and Kaz was forced to cover his eyes. When he opened them again, the sky was clear of clouds, and the sun—the long forgotten sun—was shining majestically—triumphantly.

The sun gleamed brightly now. Huma no longer felt cold, though he did not really feel warm, either. Sleepy. That was how he felt.

He discovered the medallion from Lord Avondale in his open hand. Paladine's face shone brilliantly in the sunlight. The glare was too much. Huma closed his eyes. He could not 192

close his grip on the talisman. That was all right. When the sun began to shift, he would like to look at it again.

His thoughts turned to Gwyneth and what they would do, now that the war was over at last.

CHAPTER 32

"A temple. They’re building you a kinder-cursed temple when all you wanted was a place to rest."

Kaz turned his horse away from the magnificent tomb. Lord Oswal shared the minotaur's distaste for the elaborate trappings Huma had never cared for in life, but there had been other things to consider.

"The people need a hero," the Grand Master had explained with a somewhat dubious expression on his aged face, "and the knighthood needs a standard to grow by. Huma has provided both."

Kaz wondered then how long it would take the people to forget Huma, or to think of him as they did other legends— as just one more story. Humans, dwarves, kender, and elves—they all had a tendency to forget or gloss over truth as time went on. Even minotaurs were guilty of that.

He studied the path ahead. Bennett said he believed the plains could be back to prewar conditions within five or six years. Kaz estimated nine or ten. Still, the road was serviceable and that was what counted. He wanted to be far away before the knights discovered him missing. There was so much that one of his kind had never seen before. Qualinesti sounded interesting. The elves might offer an experience. The day was bright and warm, something Kaz was unaccustomed to. He was thankful he had packed plenty of waterskins. Until he was more familiar with the land, he would have to be careful to conserve.

The massive warhorse Lord Oswal had given him moved swiftly along the trail. There were many dips in the ravaged path and much of his equipment was jostled around. The belt pouch slapping against his right side became such a nuisance that he finally pulled it off. Metal clanked against metal from within.

Kaz pulled his steed to a halt and reached into the pouch. He pulled out two objects. The first was a seal bearing the sign of the knighthood on one side. The reverse side had the minotaur's name chiseled in it, as well as the fact that he was indeed a minotaur. A mark above his name indicated he was under the protection of the Knights of Solamnia. Kaz had scoffed at first, but the Grand Master was quick to point out that few people had anything good to say about minotaurs. The tales of Huma that had already circulated made no mention of Kaz. Many of the knights still could not reconcile the legendary knight's friendship with a being that most people considered a beast.

Kaz carefully replaced the seal in the pouch and eyed the second item. It was the medallion of Paladine that the knight's lifeless hand had released when Kaz had lifted him up to Bolt's back. The minotaur had stuffed it into the pouch for safekeeping and until now he had forgotten it.

Sunlight gleamed off the medallion and Kaz looked up at the sky again. Things were changing. The dark dragons were gone, but so were the metallic ones. Bolt had departed without comment after they had brought back the bodies. No one had seen a dragon since. He kicked the warhorse lightly in the sides. As Kaz rode, he continued to finger the medallion. It had occurred to him to keep it, so that he would always have a token of his encounter with Huma. But now he was not so sure that it was, by rights, his. 193

The medallion was halfway back into the pouch when he came upon the lone tree on the right side of his path. The others near it either lay uprooted or were dead. Only this one held any life—a few branches sprouting new green.

On impulse, Kaz reached over and, when he was even with the tree, hung the talisman by its chain on a branch that overlooked a part of the trail.

"Est Sularis Oth Mithas" the minotaur muttered.

Turning his gaze back to the trail before him, Kaz suddenly urged his mount to great speed. He would not slow the horse until the tree and the tomb were long out of view. 194