"Meeting? With whom? Why was I brought to the Abyss?"
The cornugon simply stood, looking toward the blazing wall.
Khisanth felt something pulling at the corners of her confi shy;dence, until she noticed the beginnings of a most unfamiliar sensation-fear. Most oddly, she was developing an irra shy;tional fear of staying where she was. Not that a trip to the Abyss shouldn't inspire terror, she told herself. Still, fear was totally alien to Khisanth's nature. There was no new reason for it to rise at that moment.
Except if it were magically inspired. Dragons were natu shy;rally resistant to magic. The cornugon's magic must be pow shy;erful indeed for a fear spell to affect her so. The dragon felt another unfamiliar twinge of fear.
Before Khisanth could step toward it, the fire wall came to her. She felt its flames tickle and lick at her hide, but the fire didn't burn, wasn't even very warm. The white-orange flame slipped down her back and over her tail and left her standing in a place that looked exactly the same. The sky and sand glowed red as before.
Yet, it felt very different. The cornugon was gone, but Khi shy;santh had the distinct and unshakable impression that she wasn't alone. Cutting through the strange dimness of the bar shy;ren landscape was the long, spiny back of a dragon. Huge, and very close, but very dim.
"Who are you?" Khisanth began, but the momentary relief she felt at the sight of something familiar was knocked away, along with her breath. The area seemed to grow darker, though it was more a darkness of the mind, since the sky's faint redness didn't change. Struggling to breathe, Khisanth could see the dragon's long, unusually thick neck start to swing around to the left.
Like a tightly coiled spring, the neck unwound, and five heads completed the turn, snaking and writhing and hissing softly. Khisanth dropped to her knees in reverence and awe. She cringed before one of the three creators of the world.
In the Dark Queen's present form, the name She of Many Faces seemed most appropriate. Each head represented a type of evil dragon: white, black, green, blue, and red. The colors ran the length of each neck and into the forepart of the dragon's body. They blended into three strips of gray, blue-green, and purple over her back and hindquarters, and merged into a muddy brown tail.
Takhisis's black head slithered closer to the trembling black dragon, hissing softly. You have displeased me greatly,
Khisanth.
Takhisis's lips didn't move, but Khisanth heard the queen's even, almost sensuous voice directly in her head.
"Then I am dead," said the black dragon.
Not yet. Five sets of dragon eyes all bore into Khisanth's, their message unmistakable.
It is my belief that you are yet useful to me, especially now that you have slain three of the only five black dragons worthy of being in my service.
"Worthy!" cried Khisanth. "But you don't under-"
Silence! the Dark Queen's voice cut in sharply. You are clever enough to know that everything happens with my knowl shy;edge, if not consent.
Khisanth, for once, was struck speechless.
Of course I knew of their betrayal with the knights. Black drag shy;ons are the greediest and most solitary of the evil dragons and must be watched accordingly. The tongue of Takhisis's black head darted out, as if to acknowledge and accept the evaluation of its brethren.
"They betrayed you and exposed your entire Black Wing to decimation. Why didn't you strike them dead?"
They were much more useful to me alive. I would have appealed to their greed, offered them more than the knights-their very lives-and turned their betrayal to my advantage. They would have feared my eternal wrath forever after.
Takhisis paused. Her blue head hissed wordlessly. As it was, you helped them destroy the wing.
Khisanth found her voice. "I saved the wing!"
Only vanity would make you view the devastation at Shalimsha as a victory, the same vanity that has made you refuse to take a rider….
"But you don't-" Khisanth stopped the thought.
/ know of the betrayals that have forged your personality-and your pride. You have gleaned less from them than you should.
The five heads swayed to an unheard cadence. You need consider only this one example: If you had taken a rider after your arrival at the wing, you would have secured the rightful position of second dragon. You gave inferior dragons like Khoal power over you. Had you been their superior, they could not have betrayed me.
"Maldeev could have made me second dragon without a rider!"
It was not his rule to break, the voice cut in sternly. / deter shy;mined the policy regarding riders. Maldeev is simply an agent whose function is to enforce my edicts. Again, only vanity would make you think yourself worthy of his risking a god's retribution.
You are right about one thing, though, the voice said in a slightly conciliatory tone. Humans are an inferior race. That is the crux of the whole, upcoming war. They currently control all of Krynn. Until I can return in physical form-which I am using them to help me accomplish-they are necessary annoyances. Like lemures.
That last comment, spoken with a hint of amusement, reas shy;sured Khisanth that she was not beyond redemption. "I thought I was honoring my queen. Must I take a rider?"
Only if you do not wish to repeat your mistakes and risk my wrath a second time.
"Humans are so easily swayed by emotion. How will I find one who is both worthy and true?"
You will live to do much greatness in my name, Khisanth, but trust no one. What you seek is a human worthy of your talents. Look in unexpected places. You will know him when the time comes.
The Dark Queen's five heads began to turn away. There is much work and little time to rebuild the Black Wing. Commit my words to memory, Khisanth, for I fear a second meeting would not go as well for you.
"Thank-" was all the humbled black dragon could squeeze out before the majesty of the Queen of Darkness faded into the barren landscape.
Just as abruptly and with scarcely a puff of smoke, Khi shy;santh left the Abyss. She landed squarely in a scene nearly as bleak as the Infernal Realms. Around her, in the scant light of dusk, soldiers with battle-blackened faces picked through the charred wreckage of Shalimsha Tower.
Chapter 20
Thougb the late summer day was gray and rainy outside the great hall, only one candle was lit inside. The shadows it cast mir shy;rored Maldeev's mood. The dragon highlord sat, slumped in his ornate, claw-footed chair, hands curled tightly around the miniature dragon heads at the ends of the armrests. He heard his water clock whirring behind him. Maldeev didn't care to look at it. He wanted no joy to intrude on his dark humor.
"We've got to rebuild, and quickly," Jahet was saying, her words drumming an annoying rhythm in his brain.
"What do you think I've been doing since those damned knights attacked me? The remaining troops are in the process of rebuilding the tower-again. Salah Khan has spent time recruiting humans to the north to replace those lost in the slaughter. Any minute now I'm expecting two regiments of these new draconians Neraka keeps yammering about. If
they're any good, I'll call in the promise of more soon after."
"But we need more dragons now," said Jahet.
'That's your job," snarled Maldeev, folding his arms. He sank deeper into his big chair. "I've done mine."
Jahet closed her eyes to silence an equally angry retort.
The tension between Jahet and Maldeev had become pal shy;pable since the battle, almost a living, breathing thing. But, out of respect, they had stopped just short of accusations, not asked the obvious questions that burned in both their throats.
"How do you propose I go about that?" Jahet asked, her tone snide. "Shall I put up posters in pubs, like Khan is doing to recruit human mercenaries?"
"How would I know? You're so fond of pointing out that I don't understand black dragons," said Maldeev. "How did the others come to join the wing?"
"Word of mouth," said Jahet. 'The news will get out to the surrounding swamps that we're lookin
g for recruits."
"We can't wait for that."
Jahet sighed in agreement. "I'll think of something."
"You'd better," the highlord spat, jumping to his feet to pace around on the reed-covered floor. "The decimation of the Black Wing-by our own forces! — was the last thing my reputation needed now." He snorted angrily. "I'll wager all the other highlords are laughing at me even as we speak!"
Jahet tried to think of something comforting to tell her soul mate, but nothing came to mind. The betrayal of his own forces-before the war had even started-was an enormous black mark on Maldeev's record. On hers as well. All Jahet could manage was a weak, "We'll restore order and come back even stronger."
Maldeev was forming a response when they both became aware that the dim natural light inside the hall had been abruptly cut off. Looking toward the courtyard, they saw, to their utter amazement, the dragon Khisanth. She looked to be seeking an audience. Maldeev's first thought was to grab his highlord mask, since it was rare, if ever, that a highlord's troops should see his face. Something stayed his hand from the mask that hung from a knob on the back of the ornate chair.
Curiosity made Maldeev wave the other black dragon into the vast chamber. Now doubly surprised, Jahet spoke first.
"This is a grave violation of protocol, Khisanth."
Like a dog, Khisanth shook the rain water from her scales before stepping inside and answering, "True enough. But what I have to say affects the entire wing, more specifically its highlord and most trusted dragon. I thought it efficient to address you both at once."
Khisanth glanced up at last and saw their skeptical, annoyed looks. "If you're more concerned with protocol than rebuilding this wing as swiftly as possible, then perhaps I've overestimated you both." The dragon turned to leave.
"Give me cause to listen," Maldeev challenged. "Quickly."
Khisanth turned back halfway and laughed ironically. "I'd say it was already worth your while, since I'm one of the only two dragons you still have on your side."
"Thanks to you, that's true enough." Maldeev blinked in disbelief at the dragon's gall.
Khisanth didn't flinch from his reproach. "Once I learned of the betrayal, I did what I thought best to minimize the damage." Her eyes narrowed as she added, "If their human riders had been the least bit perceptive or intelligent, the dragons couldn't have plotted without their knowledge."
It was Jahef s turn to flinch. Khisanth had unwittingly laid bare the unspoken crux of the tension between Jahet and Maldeev. Why hadn't his commanders known? Why hadn't she known, as the leader of the dragons? It didn't help that Khisanth had obviously avoided implying the latter about her friend. The question was obvious.
The conversation's turn made Maldeev uncomfortable as well. "Clearly, their human commanders were inferior. As you well know, they've paid the price."
Khisanth did know. She and Jahet had been given the honor, for the amusement of the remaining troops, of tearing apart second-in-command Wakar and the other two officers, including Dimitras, in a dragon tug-of-war on the drill field.
Maldeev arched one brow at Khisanth. "Surely, you don't risk my wrath-twice-simply to point out my faults." Jahet
knew his calm tone of voice meant Maldeev was far angrier than if he'd shouted.
"No," Khisanth agreed, nodding once. "I've come to tell you both that I've decided to comply with your request to take a rider."
The announcement hung in the air between all three of them for several moments. Finally, Maldeev turned away and busied himself stirring the fire. "Fine," he said. "I've selected several for you to choose from. I'll arrange for you to interview them immediately."
"I will not."
Maldeev looked up.
"My compliance with your ultimatum has two conditions. First, I will choose my rider entirely on my own, and in my own time. Second, you'll guarantee my position as second-in-command to Jahet from this moment on."
"Thaf s extortion," fumed Maldeev.
Khisanth's expression was mild. "That's a narrow way of viewing it. As I see it, my proposal allows each of us to get what he wants."
"What would prevent you from delaying the decision for shy;ever, once you're handed the position you've long coveted?" Maldeev demanded.
"It is not in my interest to do so," was Khisanth's unnerv-ingly calm response.
Maldeev was about to argue further when Jahet leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I've said before that self-interest is a black dragon's only motivation. Go ahead and agree. Once we replace the other dragons, we can always renege if we need to."
Maldeev clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn't like being squeezed into making any decision. Yet he was intelli shy;gent enough to see the value in this-and even to add wit and pluck to Khisanth's long list of attributes.
"All right," the highlord growled at last. "You shall have this your way." He squinted up at her. "See that I'm not dis shy;appointed."
Just then, Maldeev's new second-in-command cleared his throat loudly just outside the door. "Sir," he called, without stepping in to intrude, "the wall sentries have spotted the draconians approaching from the northwest."
"Excellent, Salah Khan." Maldeev nearly smiled, but man shy;aged only a joyous scowl. Initially, the highlord had dreaded the arrival of these odd and grotesque mutations of Good dragon eggs. He was of the old military school. They'd had no magic, dragons, or any of the other oddities of modern warfare. Combat then was between men on foot or horse shy;back, with swords and clubs. But now, with his troop num shy;bers so low, he welcomed the injection of strength. Draconians were rumored to be exceptionally strong.
The highlord snatched up his trademark mask from the back of the enormous throne and pulled it down low over his face, to end at his collar. Rubbing his hands together, Mal shy;deev strode eagerly toward the courtyard, his hobnailed boots pounding across the floorboards. Without turning his head, he called back to the dragons, as if he'd just remem shy;bered them, "Come along and review my new troops."
The two dragons looked at each other before following at some distance. "You've certainly had a change of heart," said Jahet. Her conversational tone sounded tight, forced. "Did your mysterious disappearance from the battlefield have anything to do with this metamorphosis?"
Khisanth well knew that rumors and speculation were rampant on the subject. She had no interest in or concern with quelling them. There was something mystical-pro shy;phetic, even-about her journey to the Abyss and the Queen of Darkness, something that made Khisanth want to hug the details to herself.
"I've had an awakening, yes," said the newly appointed second-in-command. "You could even take a measure of credit for talking me into it," she added. "Make no mistake, though. My goals have not changed, simply my route to them. I intend to play an important role in returning the dragons to rule."
"Does that important role require you to step on me?"
Khisanth heard her friend's thinly disguised suspicions. "I
think there'll be enough positions for all dragons worthy of serving our queen."
They caught up with Maldeev then at the far southern edge of the drill field, and both fell into an unusually strained silence. At least the rain had stopped.
"There they are," breathed Maldeev with near reverence, pointing to the endless stream of creatures marching against the gray sky. Their formation was tight, a narrow ribbon in the grassy northwestern foothills, made greener by the day's rain. The beleaguered highlord could scarcely contain his excitement at the sight of the approaching dragon men.
Maldeev had never before seen a draconian, let alone met one. His awed tones were based solely on the draconians' reputation as the meanest, most fearless and indestructible fighting creatures ever known. They were also known to be fond of ale and spirits, which made them especially sadistic. Heeding the advice of the Red Wing commander with whom he'd arranged delivery of the draconians, Maldeev had removed all spirits from the reach of the troops. The human rank and file had grumbled in
protest, but Maldeev sus shy;pected they'd all agree once they encountered a drunken dra shy;conian, as would inevitably happen, despite his best efforts.
The sounds of shuffling troops on the move got louder as the dragon men approached. Now Maldeev could clearly see the face of Horak, the human with whom Maldeev had exchanged missives. The Red Wing commander would join the Black Wing to lead the draconian forces in the upcoming war. Horak's back was ramrod straight in his bright plate mail. Poking through the narrow openings in his imposing great helm were wayward tendrils of copper-colored hair. Horak had a quill-thin, carrot-colored mustache and slight beard that was likely the result of many days on the trail.
Raising high a banner on his pike, which still held the sym shy;bol of Ariakas's Red Wing, Horak signaled his troops to halt some two hundred yards from where Maldeev and his imposing black dragons waited. The armored horseman spurred his black gelding in the ribs and galloped swiftly up to Maldeev, kicking clouds of choking dust up from the field.
Horak pivoted to stop as if on a steel piece. He pushed his helm back so that its face rested atop his red head.
"Field Commander Horak," he said crisply. His gelding pranced fitfully after the long trek. "I'm pleased to report that we lost only eleven of five hundred twenty-three draconians in two hundred miles, due mainly to infighting. The rigors of trail life seem to bring out the worst in them."
"Excellent!" crowed Maldeev. No introduction of himself was needed or expected.
"We will review the troops momentarily. But first, we must replace that." Maldeev pointed with near disdain at the banner on the tip of Horak's pike. The highlord snapped his fingers. Maldeev's head adjutant stepped forward anxiously, in his hands a folded piece of black-bordered cloth. Maldeev revealed a glorious rendition of the Black Wing's own ban shy;ner, designed by Maldeev himself. On three sides of the rec shy;tangle-two long, and one short side that would be attached to the pike-was a three-inch border of darkest black. Inside that was a white rectangle, a contrasting background for the black dragon depicted in impressive detail, down to scales made from overlapping ovals of black silk. Most striking of all, though, was the dragon's red, forked tongue, lashing out from bared teeth to form the banner's outer, short edge.
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