“I can’t do it, Your Majesty,” Kit said one day as she was trudging through the snow, leading the horse by the reins, for the road was too rough for the beast to traverse without risking injury. “I am sorry to break my vow, but it will be broken anyway, for I will never live long enough to even see Dargaard Keep.”
Kit stumbled to a halt. She did not like to admit defeat, but she was too hungry, too tired, too cold and dispirited to keep going. She started to turn around, to head back down the road along which they had just come when Windracer gave a terrified shriek and reared up on its hind legs, hooves flailing. Kit had been holding tight to the reins, and the horse’s sudden, unexpected move nearly dragged her arm out of the socket.
Kitiara dropped the reins and grabbed her sword. The horse landed on its feet again and stood in the road, shivering and sweating, foam dripping from its mouth, its eyes rolling wildly. Kit looked and saw nothing, but she felt the horse’s terror. Then she heard hoofbeats behind her.
Kit whipped around, steel blade flashing in the sun.
An enormous jet-black horse with fiery red eyes stood blocking the road. A woman was mounted on the horse. She rode side-saddle, as did the noble gentry. She was clad in a dress of fine black velvet. The skirt fell in graceful, sweeping folds down the horse’s flank to the road. Her face was concealed by a long black diaphanous veil. She sat straight and tall, her black-gloved hands loosely holding the reins.
Kitiara dropped her sword. Quaking inside, more terrified than she had been at the thought of facing her executioner, she fell to her knees.
“Your Majesty!” she gasped fearfully. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” said Takhisis, and her voice was soft as the black velvet of her dress and as hard as the frozen ground on which Kit knelt. “I heard your ultimatum.”
Kit shivered. “Your Majesty, it wasn’t—”
“Of course it was. What you are saying is that if I want you to go to Dargaard Keep, I should find some means of getting you there in a timely manner.”
And alive, Kitiara thought, but she did not dare say that.
She risked sneaking a look from beneath her long lashes, but she could see nothing of the woman’s features hidden beneath the veil.
“If you command me, Your Majesty,” Kit said humbly, “I will keep going… as far as I can…”
Takhisis tapped her gloved hands in irritation. She sat straight in the saddle, turned this way and that, taking in the forest and the wretched excuse for a road.
“I give you credit,” Takhisis said. “You have done well to come this far. I knew this place was a mess, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”
She turned her veiled face to Kit. “I will help you one more time, Blue Lady, but that will be the last.”
The Dark Queen lifted a gloved hand to point skyward.
Kitiara looked up and gave a glad cry. Skie came into view, flying slowly overhead, his head down, searching this way and that. Kitiara shouted his name and leapt to her feet, waving her arms. Either the dragon heard her or he heard his Queen’s command, for he shifted his gaze, spotted her, and began spiraling downward.
Kitiara looked back to Takhisis. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”
“If you do, it will not matter, will it? You will be dead,” Takhisis replied. “I suppose I will have to return Salah Kahn’s horse. I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.”
She took graceful hold of Windracer’s reins and rode off down the road, leading the terrified steed behind her. When the goddess had disappeared into the darkness of the woods, Kitiara had a joyous reunion with Skie.
She was so glad to see the dragon, she felt strongly inclined to fling her arms around his neck and hug him, but she knew Skie would be deeply offended and likely never forgive her. She began by apologizing to the dragon, admitting that Skie had been right, her foolish search for the half-elf had landed her in trouble, nearly gotten her killed. Skie did not say “I told you so,” but instead he magnanimously apologized in turn, saying he was wrong to have deserted her.
After that, he informed her that she was back in Ariakas’s good graces. Ariakas had asked Skie—almost begged him—to go searching for her. This bit of news caused Kit to smile wryly, particularly when she learned that Feal-Thas was dead and the Solamnic knights were stirring up trouble.
Ariakas had an important assignment for Kitiara in Flotsam. The emperor also wanted her to begin planning for an attack on the High Clerist’s Tower.
“Now he decides that!” Kit fumed. “Now, after the knights are talking of sending troops to reinforce the tower. And if Solamnia is suddenly so important, why does he talk of sending me to Flotsam, to the other side of the continent on some secret mission? Bah! The man is losing his grip!”
Skie flicked his tail in agreement and dropped down on his belly so that Kitiara could climb up on his back. Skie had brought with him the blue armor and helm of a Dragon Highlord, given to him by Ariakas on the off-chance that Skie should find her. Kitiara put on her armor with relish. She felt herself vindicated. She placed the helm on her head and vowed that Ariakas would one day come to regret his treatment of her. She was not yet strong enough to challenge him. That day would come, however, maybe sooner than later if she succeeded at Dargaard Keep. Clad once more in her armor, Kitiara felt strong enough for anything, even a death knight.
His Blue Lady restored to him, the dragon was also in excellent humor. His blue scales rippled and he dug his claws into the ground, ready to take off.
“Where do we go?” he asked. “Solamnia or Flotsam?”
Kitiara sucked in a deep breath. This was going to be difficult.
“Her Majesty didn’t tell you?” she hedged.
“Who? Tell me what?” Skie swiveled his head around, suddenly suspicious.
“We fly north,” Kit said. “To Dargaard Keep.”
Skie stared at her, then said flatly, “You’re joking.”
“No,” said Kitiara calmly. “I’m not.”
“Then you’re crazy!” the dragon snarled. “If you think I’m going to fly you to your death—”
“I promised Queen Takhisis I would undertake this,” Kitiara said. “What did you think I was doing here in Nightlund anyway?”
“Traipsing after the half-elf maybe. How in the Abyss should I know?” Skie flared.
“Trust me, I have forgotten all about Tanis Half-elven,” Kitiara assured the dragon. “I’ve had more important things on my mind, such as trying to figure out some way to live through this encounter.”
She explained the vow she had made to Queen Takhisis.
“You know our Queen,” Kit added. “I can’t back out now. It would be as much as my life was worth.”
Skie did know Takhisis, and he had to admit facing Takhisis in her wrath was something the mightiest dragon would go out of his way to avoid. Still he didn’t like Kit’s plan and he let her know it.
“I cannot believe you were going to go without me!” Skie boomed. “As it is, with me along, you have at least a chance of surviving. I will blast the keep into rubble, bring it down on top of him. The death knight can’t be killed, but I can at least weaken him, give him something to think about, like crawling out from several tons of rock.”
Kitiara wrapped her arms around the dragon’s neck, gripped him tightly, and ordered him to take off.
His idea was good. She didn’t want to tell him it wasn’t going to work.
2
A Night at Dargaard Keep
Skie flew over the forests and swamps, rivers and hills, ruined dwellings, broken roads, predators and outlaws of Nightlund, accomplishing safely in hours what would have cost Kitiara days of hard work and danger. They came within sight of Dargaard Keep late on the afternoon of the second day.
The keep was built high upon a cliff, most of it carved from the cliff’s peak. The only way to reach the keep was by climbing up a road that wound around and around the cliff face. Kit might have considered this path, but one look at the road made her thankful she had Skie. The road was split and cracked and in some places huge chunks had fallen off, gone sliding down the mountainside. What remained was strewn with rock and boulders and rubble from the ruined keep.