She turned from him and stepped quickly and lightly away. Huma almost followed, but he cared enough for her to respect her wishes in this matter. That he might never see her again tore at him, but he let her go and turned his back.
Eastward, Huma made his way through the soft snow. The cloud cover, fie noticed, had not dispersed. It merely avoided this peak.
He had walked for no more than ten minutes when he heard the voice. There was no mistaking it. It was Kaz, angered. The knight’s pace picked up. Only one person would anger the minotaur so.
“If only I had done what I had desired and ended your miserable existence there and then. You have no honor, no conscience.” The minotaur stood tall. His fists emphasized each point as he battered the air as if it were the object of his reprimand.
Magius sat with odd quietude on a large rock, his head in his hands, unmoving, as the minotaur continued to berate him. Huma tensed as he stepped toward the pair.
It was Magius who sensed his approach. The mage’s face was pale and drawn, his hair radiating wildly about his head. His eyes had sunken in. They widened as he raised his head, and his numbed mind finally recognized the figure of his only friend.
“Huma!”
“What?” Kaz jumped at the sudden shout. He saw the direction of the magic-user’s gaze and turned. The blood-red look in his eyes vanished, and a toothy grin appeared on his bovine face. The anger of a moment before was temporarily forgotten. “Huma!”
As the minotaur stepped forward, Magius seemed to curl into himself. The mage stared pitifully in Huma’s direction, but made no move to join Kaz in greeting their lost comrade.
The minotaur almost crushed Huma in a bear hug. Kaz looked down at him, smiling all the time, then suddenly lifted the hapless knight off the ground and spun him around. Huma felt like an infant in the hands of the huge man-beast.
“Where have you been? I sought you out, but could not find the path you had taken. I searched again and again calling to you, but only the wind and that infernal cry responded. Sarg—Gods! I finally thought you were dead.” He put Huma down. Kaz turned on Magius, who stepped back as if struck. “When I told that one what had happened, he fairly shouted with glee at first.”
“WHAT?” Huma gazed over at Magius. His childhood friend would not look at him.
Kaz thrust a finger at the knight. “Do you know why you were so important to him? It was not your friendship. It was not your skills. His mad vision had convinced him that there was indeed a gift from Paladine somewhere here but that he would die if he tried to claim it. So he intended to send you in his place. You would have taken the attack that would have killed him! Your life was expendable!” The angry warrior laughed coldly. “Can you believe it? He claimed a knight in sun-drenched armor and bearing a lance of incredible power would run him through; did you ever hear such nonsense?
“When he thought you were dead, he believed the vision had been altered forever. He was confident that he would almost immediately find this great secret and live to use it in your memory and his glory.”
Kaz paused to catch his breath, and Huma chose that moment to step around the minotaur and confront Magius. The mage looked up at him, almost fearfully, and moved back a step. Huma reached out a hand, but Magius refused to take it.
The minotaur came up behind Huma. “When we found no path or cavern, he started to fall apart. I could have never believed this one could have a conscience. I suppose I helped, for I reminded him every hour of every day about what he had done. How you had talked of him as a good friend.”
Huma leaned down. His voice was soft. “Magius. There is nothing to be fearful of. I do not hate you for what you did. That was not you; it was never you.”
The shadow of the minotaur covered them both. Magius turned away.
“What are you saying, Huma?” the minotaur demanded. “This one betrayed you, had planned on betraying you since before you and I met. All for some utter, senseless madness!”
“You weren’t there!” Huma snapped. “I’ve heard tales of how real the Tests are. Sometimes they exist only in the mind; sometimes they are completely and terribly existent. In either case, the magic-user who is being tested can die.”
“Magius,” Huma whispered to his conscience-stricken friend. The spellcaster seemed to be on the edge of collapse. It must have seemed that the knight’s ghost had come back to haunt the one who had betrayed him. “Magius. Forget the vision. You were right about the mountain. I’ve found what we were searching for!”
The mage’s eyes widened and narrowed, then he began to calm down. “You found it?”
“I did. I faced the challenges in the mountain and passed.”
“What’s that you’re talking about?” roared Kaz. “What challenges?”
Huma briefly described what had taken place within the mountain. The story of Wyrmfather brought a strange light to the eyes of Magius, who, stuttering, confessed he had made a study of the design of the statuette years before, only to come up with nothing more than a few scraps of legend. The treachery of Rennard shook both listeners. Magius had grown up with Huma and often had wondered about the knight’s father.
“By my ancestors twenty-five generations back! Would that I had been there when you fought the father of all dragons. Such a battle, and I missed it!” The minotaur shook his head.
The knight grimaced. “It was more a battle for survival than anything else. Luck had much to do with it.”
“I think not. I do not see luck as a factor in these challenges. How many would have taken such action? How many would have run or stood trembling before the dragon? Many minotaurs would have thought it folly.”
Magius tugged at Huma’s arm, almost as a small child might do. “The Dragonlance? You have it with you? I have to see it!”
A solid, clawed fist materialized before the spellcaster’s face. “You’ll see nothing!”
Huma dared the minotaur’s wrath by pushing the fist down. Kaz glared at Huma, then forced himself under control.
“That is what I need your help for now,” Huma told them both. “Another person may be waiting to aid us, but I’ll need your help to pull the lances from the chamber. All but one are more than twice your height, Kaz. It will be difficult.”
“We shall do it, though, and this vermin here will help.”
Magius paled, but he stood his ground. “I will do every bit as much work as you—most likely more.”
The wind whipped the minotaur’s mane around his face, giving him a particularly wild look. “That remains to be seen, mage.”
“Enough!” Huma shouted. He would drag the lances out himself if need be. “If you are coming, do so, or stay here and let the snows eventually cover you!”
He stalked away. A moment later, the other two followed quickly and without comment.
He had marked the spot as well as he could. The rock was where he had left it and he stepped over it and reached down. Kaz and Magius looked on in curiosity, especially when Huma’s hand found only hard earth and not the hole that should have been there.
“What’s the matter?” Kaz asked.
“I can’t find it! I can’t find it!”
The others fell to their knees and began searching the ground.
“There is no need to search further,” a voice suddenly said. “The Dragonlances are safe and ready for their journey out into the world.”
The voice came from above them. A great wind buffeted the trio, forcing them to step back. The voice apologized and the great wings slowed as the majestic dragon came to stop on a nearby outcropping.
“I heard the summons,” said the same silver dragon who had given aid to Huma and Kaz, what seemed so long ago. “The lances are ready, awaiting us in a safe place.” She gazed—fondly?—at the knight. “The next step in their journey, Huma, is up to you.”