On his signal, they rose into the air, determined to make their way past the enemy and seek out the stronghold of the mage. Huma held up the small, greenish sphere and concentrated. He willed it to lead them to the citadel.
The sphere glowed brightly, rose from his hand, and began to fly toward the mountains in the west.
The eight pairs followed.
The battle was turning into a slaughter. The dragons, spurred by their fear of their mistress, charged again and again at the lancers. They were repulsed each time with heavy losses.
More than a fifth of the lancers and their mounts had perished in the meantime, overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The ground forces also had suffered, especially at first. Once they learned of the effectiveness of their lances, however, casualties dwindled. Soon, no dragon dared come near. Their magic and breath weapons still rained chaos on the knights, but there was a limit to those powers, and many of the Dark Queen’s children became easy prey for flying lancers, so greatly had they exhausted themselves.
Despite their intentions, Huma and his band could not avoid the battle completely; it was too widespread by now. More than once, they swooped down to help a remnant that was in danger of being overrun. The children of Takhisis were in no way defeated, though. They had formed into groups and were charging whatever point seemed weakest. Already, many had broken through and were heading toward the Keep. They would be in for a surprise, Huma knew. The Grand Master was no novice. More than fifty knights and dragons were ready to fly at a moment’s notice.
Below them, the ogres and their allies were a mass of confusion. They were now being forced to fight a war on two fronts, for the Ergothians had found good ground and were harrying the southern flank with great success.
The sky suddenly became dark all around them, and Huma and his companions were filled with a sense of terrible, oncoming evil.
Lightning bolts moved with terrifying accuracy, striking dragons and riders and leaving few remains. The advancing Dragonlancers faltered, were pushed back. The children of the Dark Queen began to fight with new energy.
Huma slammed a fist against the lance shield. How did one fight a storm? No mage had created this. He put a hand over his eyes. If he had a physical target, then he might be able to do something, but what could even the Dragonlance do against the elements?
His question was answered even as he entered the heart of the storm. The presence of evil was so great that Huma could almost picture the Dragonqueen before him, hurling the rain and lightning toward him. A flash of lightning struck close behind him, and Huma heard a scream. By now, he could not tell whether it was rain or tears that dripped down his face.
The Dragonlance suddenly burst into such brilliance that he was forced to close his eyes momentarily. From the shouts around him, he gathered that the same thing was occurring to his companions. When his eyes had recovered, Huma dared open them—and continued opening them until they were wide with disbelief.
The storm clouds were dispersing. Rapidly. To his shock, Huma found the sun shining bright upon his armor. Was that right? By all calculations, it would be late day. The sun should be setting, yet here it was, high in the sky.
No one on either side needed a more dramatic sign of which way the battle was going. The dragons of darkness lost their momentum, backtracked, and began to retreat from the fight in ones and twos. Even the powerful fear of their mistress was not sufficient to deter them. Paladine was proving to be the greater of gods.
The ogres, though, fought with near-berserk fury. The dragons might flee to fight another day, but not the ogres and their human allies. There was nowhere they could hide that the knights could not hunt them down. For them, it was victory or nothing.
Kaz and Bennett rode to each side and a little back of Huma. Huma fingered the medallion given to him by Lord Avondale. The warmth remained strong and, on impulse, he leaned forward and touched it to the Dragonlance.
A surge of strength channeled through him.
The mountains were directly ahead. Somehow, the green sphere had stayed with them all that time, unaffected by the storm or the Dragonqueen’s fury. Huma became alert for any sign of a castle. There was no telling how near they might be, and the castle certainly would not be undefended.
Suddenly, a burst of energy shot from one of the smaller peaks to the southwest. Huma turned to face it, hoping the lance would break its power, when the burst was met by another. The two canceled one another out. Huma’s gaze shot to the source of the second burst. Even as he watched, the groups on the two peaks began to battle in earnest. After a few seconds of watching, Huma understood. He smiled grimly and turned to Kaz.
“The Black Robes are making their move! They’ve turned on Galan Dracos and his band!” He repeated the message to Bennett, who passed it on to the stalwarts behind them.
A dozen red dragons, each bearing a rider, rose suddenly from within the mountains. The riders were all clad in black and—to the horror of Huma and his companions—each had a Dragonlance.
They had, no doubt, lifted them from the dead. He should have recognized the danger, Huma decided. A lance was just as deadly no matter whose hand controlled its path.
They outnumbered Huma’s band two-to-one.
Bennett and the others came up alongside Huma. The apparent commander of the guardsmen, cloaked and wearing a visored helmet topped with two wicked horns, signaled to the others. In alternating order, the red dragons rose or fell, creating two levels. Their strategy was immediately apparent. Whatever group Huma’s men chose to attack, they would be left open to a second attack from the others.
When the red dragons neared, Huma lifted both arms wide and then brought his hands together as if he were clapping.
The knights split into two groups, one to the left, one to the right.
The maneuver spread confusion through their opponents. The evil dragons hesitated, then their order began to crumble as each moved to protect its own flank from the deadly lances. Clustered together as they were, this proved more detrimental. Two red dragons collided with one another. Huma skewered one hapless creature. The others moved in. Speed was of the essence in this strike.
The knights wasted no time or opportunity. Ducking a blast of flame from one ferocious red, the silver dragon brought Huma and the lance directly toward its underbelly. The Dragonlance sank in without resistance, and the red dragon quivered. The rider, realizing his lance was useless at this angle, frantically pulled at a bow on his back. He did not have time. His dragon convulsed and, to Huma’s surprise, burst into flames, turning both man and leviathan into ash.
Huma had a brief glimpse of the commanding guardsman as the ebony-armored figure caught an unsuspecting gold dragon in the neck with one of the plundered lances. The dragon shook violently, pulling himself free from the Dragonlance. The wound was deep. The gold dragon thrashed around, throwing his rider free. The wound seemed to erupt. There was nothing Huma could do for the helpless rider, for now the guardsman was turning his dragon toward him.
The blood of the gold dragon dripped from the point of the lance, and Huma briefly noted that the weapon was stained, something that had never occurred before. Then both dragons were roaring, claws bared and jaws wide open in a terrifying display.
Silver dragon met red dragon. Both lances were in perfect position to strike, and Huma saw no way to prevent the death of Gwyneth—as he was finally able to think, of her. As the lances thrust forward, he uttered a single-word prayer to Paladine.
The point of the stolen Dragonlance touched the right side of the silver dragon’s unprotected chest—then slid off the side and shot past her, puncturing the lower membrane of her wing.
Huma’s lance continued through, piercing so deeply that it came out the back of the red dragon. Because of that, Gwyneth was forced to grapple with the dying creature so that they could free themselves. Her damaged wing made the task all the more difficult.