“Don’t go,” Skie said abruptly, as Kitiara was putting on her helm.
“What? Don’t be silly. Of course, I’m going. I’ll make my charges against Toede in person. Much more effective. What’s the matter?” she demanded, seeing Skie lower his head and hunch his shoulder.
“What’s this urgent meeting about?” he asked.
Kitiara shrugged. “Ariakas didn’t say. Perhaps it will be about the debacle in Tarsis or maybe the matter of the death knight.”
Hands on her hips, arms akimbo, Kit stared at the dragon.
“Why shouldn’t I go?”
Skie was silent, brooding, then he said, “Because you were wrong. You were wrong to bring us here to chase after your lover. You were wrong to send us off in pursuit of him, and you were doubly wrong to risk your life seeking out your rival like some jealous whore—”
“Shut up!” Kitiara shouted angrily.
Skie kept quiet, but his tail twitched, his claws dug into the dirt, clenched and released and clenched again. He eyed her, then looked away.
“I am going to Neraka,” Kitiara stated.
“Then find another dragon,” said Skie, and he lifted his wings, pushed off with his hind legs, and soared into the sky, heading north, back to Solamnia.
Kitiara stood on the ground, staring after him. She watched in astonishment until he had finally disappeared. Then she took off her dragon helm, put it under her arm, turned, and walked away.
5
Fleeing Tarsis. Danger from above. Laurana’s decision
The next morning, the smoke of the burning funeral pyre that was now Tarsis continued to rise into the air. Snow started to fall and this would be forever known as the Day of the Black Snow, for the white flakes were tainted with soot and cinders. The black snow settled on the bodies in the street and on the comatose draconians who had passed out due to a surfeit of dwarf spirits. By the end of the day, their officers had sobered up enough to start rousing their men; the mighty force of the Red Dragonarmy—having no orders to do otherwise—started to straggle back north.
The three knights woke early from a sleep that had been brief, cold, and uncomfortable, and took stock of their situation. They had no horses; the beasts had either run off during the attack on the city, or, more likely, they had been stolen. They had found horse blankets in the stable and appropriated these to use for bedding. Tas had discovered a heavy, fur-lined, hooded coat for Laurana, who had been inside the inn when it was attacked and had been forced out into the cold wearing only a leather tunic of dwarven make over a woolen shirt and leather breeches tucked into leather boots. The rest had clothing suitable to the cold, but no food. They drank melted snow water, and that sparingly, for it tasted like blood.
Derek had spent the hours he was standing watch making plans.
“We travel south to Rigitt,” Derek stated. “Once there, we will separate—”
“What if Rigitt was attacked?” Aran interrupted. “We could be walking into another hell just like this one.” He jerked his thumb back at the smoldering ruins of the city.
“I don’t think Rigitt is in any danger,” said Derek. “The dragonarmies don’t have the will or the manpower to hold Tarsis. When we reach Rigitt, Aran will book passage on a ship and escort Gilthanas, Laurana and Elistan back to Solamnia. From there, the elves can search out their people and Elistan can do whatever it is he does. Brian and I will take the kender and sail to Icereach—”
Seeing Aran shaking his head, Derek halted his planning.
“What’s wrong?” Derek demanded, annoyed.
“There won’t be a sailing vessel left in the city, Derek,” Aran explained testily. He kept reaching for his flask, only to remember that it was empty, and he was in an uncharacteristic bad mood. “Even if Rigitt hasn’t been attacked, its people will be certain they’re next and they’ll be fleeing the city in anything that floats.”
Derek frowned, but he couldn’t very well argue against the wisdom of this.
“I’m going to Icereach with you,” Aran continued firmly. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“I had no intention of ‘getting rid of you’,” said Derek. “I am concerned for the welfare of the elf brother and sister. They are royalty, after all. I am also worried about the older gentleman. That is why I proposed sending you with them. I still believe this is a good idea. If we can find a ship—”
Aran began to argue, and Brian hurriedly intervened.
“We might hire a fishing vessel,” he suggested. “Fishermen are a hardy lot. They don’t scare easily and they’ve their livelihood to make. They aren’t likely to run off in a panic.”
Both Derek and Aran agreed his suggestion was sound, though Aran grumbled some. That ended the argument, however, and the three continued to talk of this and consider other options, and, for the moment, the matter of how they would split the party was forgotten.
Gilthanas stood at the entrance to the cave, listening to the knights. Hearing footsteps behind him, he half-turned. He saw it was Laurana and put his finger to his lips, cautioning her to be silent.
“Why?” she whispered.
“So I can hear what they are plotting,” he returned. “Plotting?” Laurana repeated, bewildered. “You talk of the knights as if they were the enemy.”
“And they talk of going to Icereach to find a dragon orb,” said Gilthanas.
He shushed her when she would have said more and continued to listen. The knights’ conversation had ended, however. They had risen to their feet, stretching to ease the kinks in stiff, chilled muscles.
Gilthanas took hold of Laurana and steered her hurriedly away from the entrance, drawing her deeper into the darkness where Flint, Elistan and Tasslehoff were still asleep, huddled together for warmth.
Laurana looked at them enviously.
She was sick with fatigue, yet she had not been able to sleep. Every time she dozed off, she saw those ruthless dark eyes, she felt the knife prick her throat, and the terror returned, jolting her into wakefulness. When she was awake, she remembered Tanis and her grief tore at her so that she bled inside. He was dead, and her soul had died with him. She did not even have the poor comfort of being able to lay him to rest, sing the hymns of praise and love that would guide him on his way to the next stage of his life’s journey. If only she could have gone with him…
“Laurana, are you listening to me?” Gilthanas demanded. “This is important.”
“Yes, Gil,” Laurana lied. She dredged up some vague memory of what he had been saying. “You were talking about dragon orbs. What are they?”
Gilthanas saw her pallor. He saw the dark circles that smudged the skin beneath her eyes, and the red-rimmed, swollen eyelids and the tear-streaked grime on her cheeks. He put his arm around her and she leaned against him, grateful for his comfort.
“I know you don’t care about any of this,” he said softly, “but you must. It’s important—”
Laurana shook her head. “Nothing’s important anymore, Gil. Nothing matters.”
“This does, Laurana. Listen to me! Dragons orbs are powerful magical artifacts created by wizards long ago. I heard talk of them when I was studying magic. I asked my master about them, but he could tell me little, except that he believed they were either destroyed by the Kingpriest or by the mages themselves during the Lost Battles. All he knew was that those who mastered the orbs were supposed to have the ability to control dragons.
“At that time, we had no idea that dragons remained in the world, so none of us thought much about them.” The elf’s expression grew dark. “If a dragon orb has been found, it must not fall into the hands of humans! That knight, that Derek, means to be rid of us. He wants to ship us back home, and I know why. The Solamnics plan to use the orb to save themselves. Never a thought for our people!” he added bitterly.