The Blue Lady stood before him now in his dream vision, her form perfectly imagined in the steamy air that rose off the baked earth of Malystryx’s peak. Like a mirage, the vision beckoned soothingly to his spirit. Soon he would bring Kitiara back to Krynn and keep his promise to her. Soon he would not need to acquiesce so completely to the red overlord’s commands. He would have Kitiara, more dear than a daughter....
“Khellendros?” The word sounded like an earth tremor.
He let the image of Kitiara fade and stared into the smouldering eyes of the Red. “Yes, Malystryx. Your plan has merit. Uniting the dragons under a new Takhisis will forge a new epoch.” A part of him had been listening.
“The Age of Dragons,” Malys purred. “No more will this be called the Age of Mortals.”
Khellendros nodded. “This ascension of yours...”
“Will require exceptional magic,” she finished. “A grand artifact is even now making its way to us, carried by a lowly human pawn. He will be escorted by other humans to afford more protection to the item. Commander Jalan leads the Knights of Takhisis. My knights.”
“And will other magic be necessary?”
“Onysablet, Gellidus, even Beryllinthranox will search and provide their greatest magical treasures. As must you. Gather the magic for me: ancient artifacts filled with raw, arcane power.”
“Of course.”
“I will need the energies stored in all these things to aid in my transformation.” Her eyes glimmered darkly, and flames lapped the corners of her vast mouth. “We will unleash the magic when enough artifacts are gathered and when the time is right. We will unleash it in Khur.”
The place where Nadir had laid her clutch, Khellendros reflected, where he and Kitiara once fought side by side.
“I will be reborn.”
The blue overlord nodded.
“Near the Window to the Stars.”
Khellendros knew the location. In ancient times, it had served as a portal to the Gray, where in ages past he might have perhaps more easily found Kitiara. It was a human place.
“When I am Takhisis, I will completely dominate the humans. I will crush them. There will be no more pockets of resistance. None will dare to defy us. And none will be able to hide. Not even the greatest of creatures who still—”
“Like the shadow dragon who so troubles you?”
A rumble started deep in Malystryx’s belly. “The rogue defies me. He continues to slay lesser dragons and to draw strength from their carcasses.”
“As we all did during the Dragon Purge. You set the example for us. You showed us the way.”
“But I called an end to the purge.”
“And he did not obey.”
“I will find him,” Malystryx said, her tone as matter-of-fact as possible. “Now or when I become the new Takhisis, I will find him and purge him. His energies will be mine.”
“And the good dragons?”
“They will join me. The silvers and bronzes, the coppers and brasses—even the golds. They will join me.”
“Most will die, I think, Malys.”
“Not all of them.” The Red breathed deep and exhaled slowly, watched the twin curls of smoke drift up from her nostrils. “Life will be more precious to some than death, even life under my rule. I have been busy planning and I have identified those who can be swayed. You see, I have been busy. And you, Khellendros? What has been occupying you in the Northern Wastes?”
“I have been controlling the land. I have built my army.”
“Gathering followers?” she asked dryly. “You have only one who shows any real promise.”
“Gale.”
“A blind dragon?” The Red’s tone was laced with scorn.
“He is capable.”
“Capable of ruling the Northern Wastes?”
Khellendros’s golden eyes narrowed slightly.
“Is he capable of controlling Palanthas and of shepherding the Knights of Takhisis or guiding legions of brutes? Is he capable of creating all the necessary spawn? Of dominating all the insignificant tribes of barbarians that litter your great white desert and pester your blue dragon servants?”
“Do you intend to replace me with him, give him my territory?”
A hint of a smile played upon the red overlord’s mouth. “Of course,” she said silkily. “As Ferno will eventually replace me as overlord of this land.”
She rose to sit on her haunches and towered above him, her head as high as the tops of the volcanoes that ringed her plateau. “But I will need no designated territory, for all of Ansalon will be mine. And as Dark Queen, I will need a king.” She dropped her gaze to meet his. “Rule by my side. Only your intellect and ambitions are great enough to complement mine.”
Khellendros raised his head slightly, keeping it judiciously well below her gaze. “I am honored, my Queen. And I accept. I will relinquish my land to Gale when the time is right.”
“The time will be soon. Ferno comes to me now. I will tell him of our agreement. He will inherit my domain. Then you and I will possess Krynn.”
The shadow dragon glided on the updrafts birthed by the mountains of Blöde. The morning sun shone bright upon his back. His snout was long and thick, filled with faceted teeth that resembled sharp bits of smoky quartz. His eyes were fog-gray with black pupils. Twin fog-gray horns swept up and back from his head. Smaller horns, looking like jagged onyx, ran from the bridge of his nose to the top of his head, edging his jowls. The undersides of his wings were the darkest parts, dark as midnight, black as a corrupt spirit.
Onysablet, too, was black. Yet the shadow dragon was, strictly speaking, not a black dragon. His scales were shadowy, but somehow translucent, the color in them shifting with light and darkness. He usually hunted at twilight, when the world’s shadows were the thickest. It was his favorite time, although sometimes he hunted very late at night, when he blended in with the ebony sky, invisible to all but the most discerning. That he found himself hunting this sunny morning disturbed him a little. He was out of his element, but his quarry was about. And that necessitated this unaccustomed foray.
He dropped lower and craned his long inky neck so he could better inspect the ground and peer into the jagged outcroppings and foothills. An ogre village was nestled between two peaks. Smoke twisted up from ruined huts, scenting the air with scorched wood and charred bodies. Ogre bodies. The dragon had no love of ogres, but he did not hate them either. He had killed enough of them in his life. But he also tolerated them at times, as he tolerated a great many things in this land. However, this day at least the sloppy despoilers who did not consume or bury the dead after their deeds were done bothered him.
The Knights of Takhisis, the despoilers, his quarry, were not terribly far away, he sensed, less than a day’s march, just beyond the mountains. He banked to the southwest, noting more bodies as he went. Scores of crows feasted, fleeing as his shadow moved over them. The miles slipped by beneath his wings. The hours passed. And then something else caught his attention.
Below him, a mile or so away, was a red dragon. Flying northeast, the red was large, perhaps two hundred feet from nose to tail, its horns curving up as its talons curved down.
The shadow dragon banked higher and watched the red for a few moments, gauging its age, guessing its strength. Red dragons, the shadow dragon knew, were among the most formidable.
The shadow dragon studied the land below him, looking for mountains that might cast just enough shadows to conceal him so he would not have to fight the red. Looking... there. He folded his wings into his sides and dropped toward a nearby summit.
As he dove, he watched the red dragon continue on its course. He saw the dragon slow and glance his way, and he wondered if the dragon would ignore him, since he was certain it had spotted him.
Ferno was headed toward Goodlund, summoned by Malystryx. The red dragon lieutenant knew not to tarry in Blöde, but he also knew that to bring his queen this trophy would raise him in her esteem. She hated the shadow dragon, and though there were rumored to be a few of these creatures on Ansalon, only one would be so bold as to fly during daylight hours. It must be the rogue that so vexed his mistress. Malystryx would reward him greatly.