by Ellen Porath
One wall of Janusz’s spartan quarters had collapsed into slush. The melting ice made groaning noises. Tanis practically had to shout to be heard. “Can’t you just read the spell?”
Dreena’s long blond hair waved as she shook her head. “A mage must memorize the spell in order to use it properly. Now be still.” She closed the book and shut her eyes. Her lips moved, but no sound issued. Then she began to chant, “Collepdas tirek. Sanjarinum vominai. Portali, vendris.” Nothing happened. Dreena cast around her as Tanis shifted his weight from foot to foot. Kitiara moaned, draped over one of his shoulders. Then Dreena reached for a box, a rosewood box with intricate carvings of bull men and thanoi. She opened it, and violet light bathed her face. She cradled the lone stone. “Collepdas tirek. Sanjarinum vominai. Portali, vendris.” Her hands danced.
Just as the three vanished from Janusz’s quarters, the Valdane’s stronghold buckled with a crash. Suddenly Dreena and Tanis, still carrying Kitiara, were treading water in a frigid lake teeming with minotaurs, walrus men, and ettins.
Tanis held Kitiara’s head above the water, searching for Dreena. She was bobbing nearby, swimming capably but shivering almost uncontrollably.
A vast section of the Icereach had imploded, melted, and turned into frigid sea. The bodies of slain Ice Folk and owls floated on every side. Tanis saw thanoi swim through the water, seeking safety, mindless of the cold and heedless of the presence of the half-elf, Kitiara, and Dreena. Minotaurs, tangled in pounds of metal weaponry, struggled in the waves. Ettins perished as each creature’s heads argued whether solid ground lay on one side or another.
Golden Wing and Splotch, crisscrossing the waters just above reach of the struggling army, plucked Tanis, Dreena, and Kitiara from the icy waters. They rejoined the attacking force, which was safe on the backs of owls, high above the swirling lake. Kitiara awakened to find herself pinned in front of the shivering half-elf on the back of Golden Wing and gazing, not at Lida, but at Dreena.
“Who …?”
Then Kitiara’s mouth gaped in horror as Dreena ten Valdane tossed the last ice jewel, the one she had taken from Janusz’s quarters, into the lake far below.
“What are you doing?” the swordswoman screamed at the mage. The glowing stone hit the water and vanished beneath the surface—and at that moment the lake refroze, trapping the remains of the Valdane’s army. Even as Tanis watched, snow began to drift across the ice, packed with grotesque figures frozen in death.
Only a third of the attacking force had survived. Brittain saluted Tanis from the back of Windslayer, but there was no sign of his scouts or his chief officer. The victorious army spiraled higher, then swooped north across the snowy range. Tanis sat up, ignoring the bitter wind and Kitiara’s complaining, and looked homeward.
The snow fell with a fury. Except for a slight depression on the ground, there was no sign they’d been there at all.
Epilogue
AFTER LEAVING THE ICE FOLK, THE GIANT OWLS HEADED north with Tanis, Kitiara, and Dreena. The mage had resumed her Darken Wood guise and answered only to the name of Kai-lid, insisting that now, truly, Dreena was dead. The birds deposited Kitiara and Tanis on the road outside Solace. Kai-lid and the giant owls flew south toward Darken Wood, and the half-elf and swordswoman turned toward Solace.
After a while, Tanis gave up quizzing Kitiara about her pregnancy and about her role in the attack on the Ice Folk. She contended stubbornly that she’d been merely pretending to be an advisor to the Valdane in order to stall for time until Tanis and Caven showed up. About the pregnancy, she was adamant.
“Xanthar was wrong,” she snapped. “The only thing that owl was good for was transportation. Although the concept of a mounted army flying high above the enemy does intrigue me, half-elf. Perhaps the owls would be interested in the mercenary life.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
Kitiara swiveled around and swore. “Half-elf, let it go. If I were with child, I’d know it, wouldn’t I? And why would I hide that from you, of all people?”
Tanis just looked at her. After a time, she reddened and looked away. “The owl was wrong,” she repeated, running her hand through her curls.
“Was Kai-lid wrong, too?”
She didn’t answer. They walked on in silence. Soon they halted on the stone path outside Flint Fireforge’s home in Solace. In a moment, Tanis would rejoin the dwarf and Kitiara would seek out her twin brothers.
“Kitiara,” Tanis said, rallying, then paused and frowned. “I …”
“Don’t, half-elf. You’d expect too much of me. I’d disappoint you, and then you’d end up hating me for being the woman I am.” She looked down at her hand, resting on the hilt of her sword.
* * * * *
A few months later, the swordswoman disappeared. She reappeared several months after that, claiming disappointment at not having found the purple stone that had been lost in the Plains of Dust. But Kitiara seemed curiously at peace for the first time in months.
Tanis was left wondering.
About The Author
Ellen Porath was an Associated Press reporter for seven years before she embarked on a plan to get her Master of Science degree, work as a freelance journalist, and carry out a lifelong dream to write fiction. She now teaches agricultural journalism at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, edits and writes fiction and nonfiction, and carries on a near-hopeless battle against misspelled vegetables in grocery store produce aisles. Ellen lives in Elkhorn, Wisconsin, with her husband, daughter, and puppet collection.
This is Ellen’s second DRAGONLANCE® book; the first, Kindred Spirits, co-authored with Mark Anthony, was Volume One in the Meetings Sextet.
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