Riverwind p2-1

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Riverwind p2-1 Page 23

by Paul B. Thompson


  “What is it?” Di An asked, afraid to get any closer.

  “My creation,” Krago said. “I call her Lyrexis.”

  “Her?”

  “Yes, she is female, make no mistake. She will be a worthy mate for Thouriss.”

  Thouriss's mate! Di An took a step closer to the vat. The outline of scales was visible in the translucent skin. The creature's face was flatter and more normally proportioned than a lizard man's, yet still it was not human. The cheekbones were high and wide, the skull massive but well-shaped.

  Ribs showed like dark shadows under the skin. Deeper still, the double fist that was the creature's heart throbbed quickly, sending a current of blood through its tender, visible veins. Muscles lay like coiled ropes around the creature's limbs. As Di An's shadow fell across Lyrexis's face, the thing in the vat seemed to twitch and turn its sightless gaze toward her. Di An yelped and cowered back.

  “It's alive! It can see me!” she gasped.

  “Of course it's alive. There would be very little reason to have it here if it weren't. And it can't really see you; it's merely reacting to light and shadow, warmth or cold.”

  Di An backed away. “It's-it's horrible,” she murmured.

  “Horrible? Horrible?” Krago slipped the cowl off his head and regarded the elf girl with disdain. “Here is a feat no alchemist on the whole of Krynn ever dared attempt, and I have succeeded. I have created life. It is a triumph, you silly little girl. A complete and utter triumph!”

  “But why? Why create such a thing?”

  Krago gazed at the unfinished creature with pride and fascination. “It was a challenge,” he said. “To create a race of beings so powerful no one could stand against them.”

  Di An began to look for the way out. “What about your own people? Won't your lizard folk wage war on humans, too?”

  Krago was regarding the thing in the vat with admiration when a voice boomed, “Krago has no loyalty except to his art. Isn't that right, Krago?”

  Thouriss filled the secret doorway in the bookshelves. Behind him, Di An could see the hulking outlines of goblin guards.

  “Eh? Oh, it's you. What do you want, Thouriss?” the young cleric said distractedly.

  “What is that creature doing here?” asked Thouriss, pointing at Di An.

  “Oh, I called her here to discuss her aging problem. She stupidly took some of my purifying potion and wandered in here.”

  “So you told her about us? About Lyrexisss?” he finished the last syllable with a hiss. Thouriss strode into the room and seized Di An by the arm.

  “Let me go! I don't know anything!” she cried. Struggling against his grip was like fighting the hold of a vise.

  “I hardly think any harm can come of it,” Krago said dismissively.

  Thouriss seemed to consider that for a moment, and then he laughed. “True. Perhaps she should know. Tell her the story, Krago. Tell her everything.”

  Krago couldn't resist the opportunity to boast. He summoned one of the mute gully dwarves. “Bring a stool,” he said. The chair was brought, and Krago motioned Di An to it. “Sit,” he told her. He made himself comfortable in a chair and began his tale.

  “The draconians, what you call lizard men, are produced by the action of a magic spell on the eggs of dragons aligned with Good,” Krago said. “The first to be used were eggs of brass dragons, from which the Baaz draconians were made. Next came the Kapak, or copper draconians, and the Bozak, whom you have seen here in Xak Tsaroth. They stem from bronze dragon eggs. Each race has its own peculiar strengths and weaknesses. Tails and wings, for example, are not uniform among the draconians. This makes it hard to fit them with armor, or to make cavalry soldiers out of them.”

  Di An knew nothing of the wars to rid Krynn of dragons, and she didn't know that dragons had become creatures of myth to most surface-dwellers. Less still did she know about draconians, but she tried to pay attention.

  “But why do you do this at all?” Di An asked, confused by this new knowledge.

  Thouriss said, “It is the will of Takhisis, the Queen of Darkness. She intends to build an army of draconians with which to conquer all of Krynn.”

  “And you do this evil thing willingly?” she said to Krago.

  “Don't be impertinent,” Thouriss warned. Di An shrank away from him.

  “As I was saying,” Krago continued blandly, “the variation in the draconians made one problem. Another was the fact that there were only so many dragon eggs available, and in order to build and maintain a standing army, the Dark Queen needs a more ready source of warriors.”

  “A task assigned to the ruler of Xak Tsaroth,” Thouriss said. “The Great One, called Khisanth.”

  “A black dragon,” explained Krago.

  “Black dragon? Here?” Di An stood up, only to have Thouriss's scaly hand force her back down on the stool.

  “Don't worry, elf. The Great One is away, communing with our queen.”

  Krago's recitation was interrupted by a delegation of gully dwarves who came in with a sample of crushed ore. The young human left his place and went to the door of the secret room. He examined the ore with numbing care and pronounced it fit for smelting. When he returned to the secret room, his face was smudged with soot and the hem of his robe was black with ash.

  “Where was I?” he said, dropping lightly into his chair.

  “Our Queen's need for warriors,” prompted Thouriss enthusiastically. He seemed to enjoy hearing the story, though no doubt he had heard it many times.

  “Oh, yes. Well, Khisanth sent out agents to every corner of Ansalon, seeking a method to remedy our Queen's problem. Some of them came to Sanction, where I was under arrest for graverobbing and heretical magic. All a mistake, you understand, but very inconvenient. I had hired two Sanctionites to dig up a newly buried corpse so that I could test an alchemical preparation I'd concocted. The potion restored the corpse to animation, but not to life.” He sighed, remembering. “Perhaps a bit more powdered copper or-”

  “Krago,” growled Thouriss impatiently.

  “Mm? Yes, well, the hired men panicked, got drunk, and spilled the whole story to the city fathers. I was taken and condemned to death. I languished in prison until Khisanth's agents broke me out and whisked me back to Xak Tsaroth. Khisanth made me a proposition: unlimited resources to do any experiments I wanted, as long as I found a way to create a race of super-strong, super-intelligent draconians, who could breed like other races.”

  “And you accepted.” Di An's voice was a whisper.

  Krago blinked his blue eyes. “Obviously. It was a fateful offer that made my life's work possible. I was going to create life!”

  He hopped up and strode to the quicksilver vat. “You see, I reasoned that there was a fundamental reason why the dragons aligned with Good were so closely linked with metals.” Excitement tautened Krago's voice. He gestured to the vat. “There is a harmonic correspondence between the etheric vibrations of the higher planes of magic and the order of pure metals.” Di An was baffled. Casting a look at Thouriss, she saw he could not follow the explanation either.

  “That being the case,” Krago continued, “it should be possible to generate dragons out of any purified metal! Do you see? Besides gold, silver, copper, bronze, and brass, you could have lead dragons, quicksilver, electrum, or any mixture!” A genuine fervor had ignited in the serious young cleric. “I chose quicksilver because it would be easy to handle. It's liquid all the time, thus eliminating the need to use dangerous molten metals. Khisanth ordered the gully dwarves and the Bozak to provide me with everything I needed. Soon, I had the quicksilver, the powdered arcana, and the celestial alignment I required. All I needed was a suitable egg.”

  Krago turned his back on Di An and placed his hands on the rim of the vat. “Khisanth was wary of risking a dragon egg on my first attempt, so I chose the egg of a land serpent. They grow rapidly and have many offspring. When the black moon, Nuitari, was in the ascendant, I immersed the serpent's egg in the bath of qu
icksilver. The powders were applied and the incantation begun. In just six weeks, Thouriss was born, fully grown, though his mind was as empty as any infant's. A completely new race, never before seen on Krynn.” Here, Krago smiled. “An ophidian, as I have named this race. Thouriss's education and training as a warrior started immediately, and by the age of four months, he was more than a match for any Bozak in the city.”

  Thouriss hissed sharply. It was easy to see on his face the pleasure that Krago's praise brought.

  “Khisanth was so pleased with Thouriss that she made him commander of all her warriors and departed to tell the Queen the news,” Krago said. “I was to proceed with the second part of the grand design, the creation of a mate for Thouriss who would be the mother of this new race. Lyrexis, as I have named her, is in her fourth week of growth. By the time Khisanth returns, I hope to be able to present her with a fully developed female ophidian.”

  When Krago was done, Di An sat with her jaw hanging open. This human spoke so casually of the evil he was bringing down upon his own people, upon the world. He would destroy the surface world as Li El had nearly destroyed Hest.

  “Nothing can stop us now,” Thouriss said proudly. “Each passing day increases my wisdom and strength. When my mate is ready, I shall lead the invasion of southern Ansalon.” He twined his cold, hard fingers in Di An's short hair and tugged her head upright. “The elves of Qualinost are reputed to be good fighters. I look forward to shedding their blood.”

  “We've finished our conversation for now, girl,” Krago said amiably. “Shall I have her sent back, Thouriss?”

  “Yes,” Thouriss said. He had released Di An and was staring at the thing that lay in quicksilver. “The Great One will want to question her and her friends,” he said. “We will pass through Que-Shu country on our way to Solace. Estimates of the barbarians' strength would be useful.”

  Two goblin guards took hold of Di An's arms, hoisting her off her feet. They carried her all the way back to the cell she shared with Riverwind and Catchflea. The tall plainsman was on his feet when the cell door opened. Di An rushed to him as soon as her feet touched the floor. She flung her arms around him as the cell door clanged shut.

  “Are you all right?” Riverwind asked quietly.

  “I saw the most terrible thing!” she said, clinging to him fiercely. “I saw it-I saw-”

  Riverwind made Di An sit down, and he sat by her. Holding her ice-cold hands, he asked, “What did you see, little one?”

  “The end of the world!”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Oldest Trick

  Di An calmed enough to relate what she'd seen and heard. When she was done, trie three of them sat m the semi-darkness, facing each other. No one spoke for a long time.

  Riverwind clasped his hands tightly. “I've been idle too long. My quest has consumed my thoughts. But if Thouriss and this dragon and the Dark Queen herself mean to lay waste to my homeland and enslave my people, then there is no more sacred task than to stop them.”

  “How can we?” Catchflea said. “We have no weapons and we are only three against a hundred.”

  “How can we even escape this room?” Di An asked.

  “We must get out before the dragon returns. Once it's here, we'll never get out alive,” said Riverwind. He idly traced some lines in the dust with a finger. “When we do get out, I want the two of you to leave Xak Tsaroth as fast as you can. Head for Que-Shu and spread the word! If Thouriss thinks he can defeat us so easily, he's in for a sharp lesson.”

  “You'll not throw your life away, yes?” Catchflea said.

  Riverwind laid a large hand on the old man's shoulder. “I've no intention of dying,” he said firmly. “Goldmoon awaits me. That's reason enough to want to live.”

  Di An gave a frowning sigh. At first, Riverwind thought he'd hurt her feelings. She was hunched over, kneading her bird-thin ankles. “What's the matter?” he asked.

  “I hurt,” she said. “In my bones.”

  “Did they beat you?”

  “Thouriss? No, no.” She grimaced and knotted her fists in a spasm of pain. “I drank that potion, though.”

  “It was a foolish thing to do,” Riverwind said.

  “Krago gave you the antidote, yes?” Catchflea asked.

  “I thought so-” Di An let out a mewling cry of pain. “Feels like my feet are being pulled off!”

  Riverwind worried for the elf girl. There was no telling what effect Krago's potion might have. When he tried to help massage her ankles, she grimaced and pushed his hands aside. He stared at Di An, kneading her throbbing feet, and an idea began to form in his mind. A smile tugged at the tall warrior's lips. He began to nod. “It could work,” he murmured.

  He quickly outlined his idea to his companions. “If the goblins aren't used to dealing with prisoners of Di An's race, they may be taken in,” he said.

  “I won't have to pretend,” Di An said. “It really hurts!”

  Riverwind squeezed her hand in sympathy, then went to the door and crouched low beside it. Catchflea stationed himself a few feet away, in plain sight of the door. Di An crept across the cell until she was lying in direct line to the exit. “I'm ready,” she whispered.

  “Ready, yes.” Riverwind nodded. Catchflea pounded on the door. “Help! Help, guard! The girl has fallen sick!” He pressed his ear to the door. No sound reached him. He pounded the thick wood once more. “Guard! Guard! The girl is ill! Help us!” Again, he listened. “Someone's coming!” he hissed.

  Heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of a goblin. He lifted his lantern, and a shaft of light illuminated the cell through the small window in the door.

  Riverwind's body tensed. Catchflea stepped aside from the door.

  “Keep quiet,” rumbled the goblin and turned to go.

  Catchflea exchanged a desperate look with Riverwind. Suddenly, the cell was filled with a nerve-shredding wail. Di An clutched at her stomach. “Help me!” she shrieked.

  The lantern light returned. “I say, keep quiet!” rasped the goblin.

  Quickly, Catchflea pressed his face to the small window. “I think she has Lemish Fever! Take her out before we are all infected. Please!” he babbled. “Your commander wants us alive! If we get the fever, we'll all die. You must take her out! Hurry!”

  After several seconds' hesitation, the guard said, “You move back.”

  Catchflea complied with alacrity. Once more Riverwind tensed.

  The bolt rattled back. The heavy door swung out. The thin beam of a hooded lantern stabbed into the cell, finding Di An writhing in genuine pain on the floor.

  “Stand away,” said the deep, raspy voice of a goblin. Catchflea backed up until his feet were by Di An's head. The goblin entered slowly, lantern in his left hand and a flanged mace in his right. Riverwind waited until the handle of the mace was near enough to grab. He sprang.

  And the guard flashed the lantern in his face. Riverwind was blinded for a second, but closed one hand over the mace handle. The goblin swung the lantern at his head. Thus distracted, Riverwind didn't see Catchflea whip off his tattered shirt and fling it over the goblin's head.

  The brass lantern banged into Riverwind's skull, but his thick hair and headband softened the blow. When it became clear he couldn't wrestle the mace away from the guard, Riverwind put his shoulder down and butted him. The goblin was a head shorter than the plainsman, but almost twice as heavy. They slammed into the wall. The guard gave a cry, muffled by Catchflea's old shirt around his head. He dropped the lantern to better grapple with Riverwind. The oil bowl spilled out and ignited. Little rivulets of flame danced across the cell, adding weird highlights to the confused scene.

  Despite her pain, Di An rose and flung herself at the guard. She wrapped her arms around one meaty leg and sank her teeth into the relatively soft flesh behind his knee. The goblin growled and clawed at the girl. His ironlike nails raked her back, tearing open the copper mesh dress.

  Riverwind wrenched the guard's weapon hand. The mace ban
ged to the floor. He leaped back, seized the club, and laid the goblin out with two quick blows. The oil flames flickered and went out.

  All three stood panting. “Anyone hurt?' Riverwind managed to ask.

  “You mean, besides him?” Catchflea retrieved his shirt.

  The goblin had a utility knife in a belt sheath. Riverwind passed this to Di An.

  There was a large rip across the back of Di An's black mesh dress. The goblin had also clawed away the paint in many places, revealing bright copper. She took the knife from Riverwind and slipped it into her woven chain belt.

  The foyer was empty. So was the street outside, though torches blazed along the facade of the old palace. They kept to the shadowed side of the street and worked their way toward the ruined round tower.

  “Where are we going?” Catchflea whispered.

  “Back into the cave,” said Riverwind.

  “The cave! Why?”

  “Keep your voice down. Where else can we go?”

  The tramp of heavy feet alerted them. Riverwind pushed Catchflea ahead of him, and together they dived for the shelter of a low, broken stone wall. Di An melted into the shadows by the guard hall. Two goblins, wrapped in green cloaks, marched past.

  “How many did we hang today?” said one.

  “Six,” replied the other.

  “It doesn't seem to bother them much,” the first grunted.

  “They're too stupid.”

  They walked on. Catchflea said, “Thouriss is carrying out reprisals against the gully dwarves!”

  “I heard,” Riverwind said grimly.

  They waved for Di An to join them. Like lightning, they flashed across the cracked and ruined road to the tumbledown tower. From there they could see the hole that led back into the caverns.

  It was blocked.

 

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