Chapter 22
“You? Gwyneth sent for you?”
The silver dragon’s head bobbed in acknowledgment. “This was the area of my birth, long ago. I still come here; it is part of my duty, part of my destiny to stand watch here, waiting for the day the Dragonlances will be revealed to the world.”
“How did you fare against the darkness?” Huma asked. He remembered the dragons as they waited for the magical blackness to envelop them. At that time, he had wondered whether they would live or die.
“We were vanquished.” There was very human bitterness in her voice. “It was more than just the work of the renegades. We could feel the presence of the Black Robes, though they were reluctant to be involved, for some reason, and something else. Something so malevolent that two of our number died there and then, merely because of its presence. We suspected and by the time we had lost, we knew.” She hesitated. “Takhisis has come to Krynn itself.”
They were all stunned. The minotaur’s mouth worked, but no sound emerged. Magius was shaking his head again and again, as if he could deny it. Huma just stood there, the stony look on his face masking well the fear and anguish he felt. The Dragonqueen on Krynn—hope, it would appear, was lost.
Or was it? Immediately, Huma remembered the vision of the platinum knight who had vanquished the darkness with the glory of the lance.
He cut off any comments by stating flatly, “This means nothing. We have the Dragonlances. Hope remains.”
Kaz shook his head while Magius simply absorbed every word. The dragon looked on in satisfaction. She seemed quite pleased with Huma’s reactions.
The wind was beginning to pick up, and neither Huma nor his companions had any intention of staying on the mountain any longer than necessary. They needed food and rest.
Huma asked the silver dragon, “Where are the lances?”
“They are far down below with your horses. I could carry them all, perhaps, but it would leave me barely able to maneuver, much less keep aloft. It would be best if I remain unhindered should we be attacked en route.”
A thought occurred to Huma. The knight turned to his companions. “Kaz and Magius, you will take the horses. I would like to trust the two of you to work together. Is that possible?”
Kaz glowered at the mage, who, having been relieved of his guilt, was rapidly returning to his former arrogance and thus returned the glare with equal dislike. They would work together, though, because this goal far transcended their pettiness. Satisfied, Huma continued.
“There was a saddle on the dragon statue in the chamber of the lances,” he told the dragon. “It enabled the rider to maintain control of his weapon. I would like to create a makeshift version of that saddle. Then, if you permit, I can ride upon your back, a Dragonlance ready should we be attacked.”
She raised her head and seemed to consider. Finally, the silver dragon nodded. “An excellent thought. I must tell you that when I first arrived in the mountains, I ran across one of the dreadwolves of Galan Dracos and immediately slew it, but rest assured that Galan Dracos will send his lackey, the warlord Crynus, to deal with you.” She extended her lengthy talons. “I would not dislike a second confrontation with that obscenity called Charr. Too many of my kind have fallen to that black dragon and his warlord companion.”
That said, the silver dragon spread her wings, rose into the air as briefly and gently as possible, and then dropped to a point low enough so that she was almost eye level with the trio. “Climb aboard. I can take the three of you to the lances. Be prepared for many turns, however. The winds can be fierce in the mountains.”
When they were securely upon her back, the leviathan spread her wings again and launched herself into the sky. At first, the trio saw the earth far below rushing up to meet them, then it seemed to be pulled back, as the silver dragon rose higher until she was able to maintain a proper balance.
Huma stared at the peak they were leaving. So much had happened there that he would never fully understand. He had not even climbed to the top, as he had first thought. At least a full quarter of the mighty giant still loomed above them.
Below lay the cloud-enshrouded world. As they entered the misty ceiling over Ansalon, Huma shuddered and prayed that, despite his victories in the mountain, he was up to the challenges ahead.
“There.” The silver dragon indicated a spot on the southern base of the mountain. Huma looked down and saw the horses and a wagon. The silver dragon had planned well for the difficult journey.
Only when they were on the ground did Kaz argue. “You cannot expect horses such as these to pull a wagon! They have not been trained for such labor. They are beasts of war, not burden.”
“They will do what they can,” replied the majestic leviathan.
Huma, meanwhile, was fast at work on his own idea. He had removed the saddle from his mount. With the aid of a dagger borrowed from Kaz—his own still lay somewhere within the mountain—he cut the saddle on each side so that it would fit more comfortably on the dragon’s back, which was much wider than that of any horse. As the straps would not reach around the midsection of a dragon, Huma was forced to employ rope. Fortunately, the skin of a dragon was much stronger and harder than that of a horse, so the coarse bonds would not irritate or hamper her.
There was little Huma could do about the post on which the lance should have pivoted. The most he could really do was carve away part of the pommel so that the lance could at least rest in something. Then, he strapped the Dragonlance securely to that side and tested it. Huma found he had some movement to his left, but his right had little. Satisfied that it would work, Huma removed the lance and presented the silver dragon with what he had created. She looked at it questioningly, then accepted its design.
“The saddle I saw,” the knight explained, “was very much akin to a horse’s saddle. It is a wider saddle since it must be worn by a dragon. Essentially, the true difference lies in the post on which the Dragonlance sits. The one on the dragon statue pivoted as I removed the lance. I cannot do that without more equipment and more time. Therefore, shaving the pommel to fit the handle of the Dragonlance was the only choice.” Huma frowned at his handiwork. “I did very little actually.”
“This will do,” replied the winged creature.
While Huma was at work on the saddle, Magius investigated the wagon. He did not particularly care for the thought of dragging the lances by cart all the way back to Vingaard Keep—provided the Solamnic citadel was still standing—and he vocalized his doubts to those around him.
“There is no need for all this. I can transport the lances in virtually no time.” The magic-user raised his hands and began to mutter.
Huma dropped the saddle as he realized what was happening. “Magius, no!”
It was too late. The mage completed his spell—and nothing happened, except that the Dragonlances seemed to gleam a little more brightly. Magius looked at the cart and then at his hands, as if the latter were somehow responsible for his failure.
Kaz let out a bellowing laugh.
“Don’t ever do that again!” Huma practically shouted. “You are fortunate; the Dragonlances are impervious to your magic. There’s no telling what might have happened if you had tried a more powerful spell.”
The saddle was secured to the dragon shortly thereafter. It fit—barely. The cuts Huma had made into the sides of the saddle let it flatten out. The ropes were tight, but did not bind the dragon uncomfortably. When that was finished, the knight separated the original lance from the others and, with Kaz’s help, tied it loosely to the left side of the saddle’s pommel.
It was decided that Magius would drive the wagon and Kaz would ride along as escort on the remaining horse. Above them, Huma and the dragon would act as scout and protector,
Huma paused before mounting the dragon, and he stared at the peak. “Gwyneth? What of her?”