Linsha drew her sword. She had no idea how close Varia was, but she had to warn the owl of Thunder’s arrival. Varia!
The name had barely left her thoughts when a single word thundered over the palace grounds. “You!” it rumbled with mingled surprise and malicious pleasure.
Linsha heard a roar of fury and protest. Another dragon? Incredulous, she sprinted along the path toward the palace courtyard. She plunged out of the trees and skidded to a halt, staring at the air above the palace ruins. Thunder curved overhead, his huge body filling her vision. But just to her left, crouched in the road leading to the palace was a big bronze dragon, his head raised to challenge the blue, his wings half-furled.
Linsha gawked as she tried to take it all in. Lanther, Mariana with her arm in a sling, General Dockett, and several others stood bunched in front of the bronze as if they had been talking to him when Thunder arrived. Lanther drew his sword, and he and the others backed hurriedly away.
Armed warriors on the road from the city poured toward the palace, their homemade dragon badges clear in the morning light.
Linsha bit back a curse. There wasn’t time to ponder where or how the militia’s lines had been pierced, or how or why Crucible was here. She had only a second to accept the obvious and decide what to do.
A bird winged away from the bronze dragon and streaked for her. “Linsha!” The owl hooted and came to circle overhead.
Linsha looked from the owl to the dragons to the approaching enemy to the palace in one sweeping movement. Then she shoved on her helmet to cover her telltale curls and raced for the courtyard gates.
“Varia!” she called. “Tell Crucible to hold off Thunder for five minutes. That’s all! Then he’s to bolt for Iyesta’s throne room.”
The owl whistled in reply and wheeled around. As she flew to warn the bronze, Linsha charged into Lanther’s group.
“Mariana, the treasure room, the tunnels,” she grabbed the half-elf s good arm. “Get everyone down there.”
Lanther’s eyebrows shot up. “Tunnels? Under the palace?”
“Under the whole city!” Linsha shouted over the uproar of angry dragons.
“Gods,” breathed General Dockett at this unforeseen possibility. “We could get the rest of the militia out.”
A massive bolt of lightning exploded behind them just short of Crucible’s side. The thunder was instantaneous. The force of impact sent them staggering.
Linsha clapped her hands to her ringing ears, yet she could still hear Thunder bellow, “Crucible! So the little lapdog returns to crouch at his dead mistress’s rotting feet. Your timing is excellent. I am in need of a bronze skull.”
Linsha shuddered in fear for her friend. He was large for a bronze and had grown nearly forty feet since she’d last seen him, but even at that size he was only slightly less than half of Thunder’s massive bulk. Crucible had participated very little in the bloody Dragon Purge of the previous ten years, choosing to stay out of sight and to kill only those evil dragons who threatened his territory around Sanction. Because of that, he had not attained the huge size of Iyesta, Thunder, or the other greater dragonlords.
To his advantage, he had a powerfully elegant build and the speed to compensate for his smaller size. He also had a breath weapon that could melt rock. A beam of light as hot and intense as the light of a star sheered from his mouth and struck Thunder’s underbelly. The white-hot light could not instantly penetrate the dense, protective scales of the blue’s belly, but it was hot enough to burn.
The blue roared in pained fury. Before he could turn his ponderous bulk around, Crucible fired a second long beam of light at the approaching foes then arrowed into the air after Thunder.
Through the dust and the tumult, Linsha saw the small body of the owl blown sideways by the gale whipped up by the dragon’s wings. She tumbled head over tail feathers and landed hard in the dirt. The Rose Knight sprinted out to scoop her up. She snatched up Varia without stopping, turned on her heel, and bolted for the courtyard.
Mariana, the general, and Lanther were already ahead of her. Like madmen, they ran from group to group, urging everyone off the wall, out of the courtyard, and into the throne room. Already, people were snatching up the wounded and fleeing for the open palace doors.
Linsha hesitated a step when she saw the small group of battered, weary Solamnic Knights looking very confused. They had just arrived and stood in a group around the commander. Sir Remmik was arguing with Lanther.
Hoping the other Knights would not recognize her in her helmet and strange, bloodied clothes, Linsha hurried close to Sir Hugh and hissed, “Get them out of here! We cannot fight a dragon. Live to fight another day.”
He glanced down at the owl cradled in her arms, gave her a brief wink, and ordered the Knights into the throne room.
Sir Remmik raised a hand to reprimand the younger Knight when a bolt from Thunder exploded against one side of the massive stone gatepost of the courtyard wall. Chunks of stone and splinters flew outward in a deadly hail. Sir Remmik did not hesitate further. He led the Knights into the throne room and followed the militia and the dragon’s guards down the stone steps into Iyesta’s splendid treasure chamber.
In barely five minutes the defenders of the palace abandoned the upper levels to Thunder and his forces.
Linsha, Lanther, and General Dockett were the last to leave. They paused in the palace doors and looked out. All of the living had left the courtyard; only the dead remained. Outside the gates they could see the mixed force of Brutes and dragon mercenaries make their way cautiously toward the palace. Crucible’s warning bolt had killed the first line of soldiers and thrown the others into fearful dismay. Under control now, they spread out and advanced toward their objective. There was no sign of the two dragons.
“Five minutes,” Linsha breathed. “You did tell him five minutes?”
Varia wiggled loose from Linsha’s grip, fluffed her feathers back in place, and climbed to Linsha’s shoulder. She stared up at the sky.
“Of course, I did,” she said. “There they are. They’re coming down.”
The militia general started in surprise and stared at the owl, but Lanther and Linsha studied the sky. It took the humans’ weaker eyes a moment longer to see what the owl spotted. Lanther suddenly pointed upward. Two specks, one bright in the sunlight and one larger, were diving toward the earth. Lightning split the sky around the smaller, brighter speck.
Linsha had a horrible vision of the bronze dragon tumbling out of the sky. In her mind, she saw his body scorched and broken, his wings torn to shreds. Unable to stop himself, he smashed into the ground in a heap of shattered bone and splattered blood. The vision was so real to Linsha that she cried out as Crucible dived toward the palace. He would never stop in time. He was too big. He was going too fast.
At breakneck speed he curved his body and angled his wings just enough to swoop out of his fall and skim to a landing outside the courtyard, leaving the heavier and more ponderous Thunder far behind. The blue roared in rage as he tried to slow his descent so he could land without breaking all four legs and his neck.
But Crucible was not in the palace yet. His speed on landing proved to be more than he anticipated. He landed briefly, bounced, skidded, lost his balance and slid heavily into the undamaged side of the stone gate. Linsha heard something crack.
“Crucible!” she yelled. “This way!”
Before the dazed dragon struggled to his feet, several quick-thinking Brutes sprang on him with their long, two-handed swords drawn. They slashed at his wings several times before he managed to sear them in half, but the damage was done. Other Brutes swarmed toward Crucible. With a snarl he scrambled over the wreckage of the gate and galloped toward the palace.
Lanther, Linsha, and Docket ran for the stairs to get out of the way of the charging bronze. He thundered into the huge throne room, skidded around at the head of the stairs, and backed carefully down.
One light beam, then a second ate into the stone roof. A crack, sharp and ominous, boomed through the room.
Brutes poured in through the open doors, their courage impressing Linsha. But their courage proved their undoing. A third beam of light from Crucible, as dense and hot as liquid fire, burned away the last support. The great domed roof crashed down in a huge cloud of dust and debris. It buried the warriors in a massive pile of stone, clogging the stairs that led down.
In the darkness of the treasure chamber, the three humans leaned against the wall, coughing on the mortar dust. Linsha heard Crucible breathing heavily and felt her way to his front legs. Elated, she touched him, unsure whether to hug his wide leg or shout her relief to the oppressive darkness.
“What are you doing here?” she cried. “Are you all right? By Paladine, that was incredible.”
“Ask that owl of yours,” he growled. “And no, I am not all right. We must get out of here. Get lower into the tunnels. It won’t take Thunder long to dig out that lot.”
Linsha bit back any further questions. She, Lanther, and Dockett followed the dragon out of Iyesta’s treasure room to a smaller stone staircase leading deep down into the tunnels of the labyrinth. Although she could not see him, Linsha listened to Crucible’s steps and felt the way he moved. He was limping on his right front leg, and his wing did not hang quite right.
At the foot of the stairs, Crucible sent the humans back into the tunnel, then he swiveled his head around and focused his breath weapon on the stone arch and walls above the stairs. This time, instead of cracking, the stone turned fiery orange and yellow and began to drip onto the stairs. Abruptly the entire section of the ceiling collapsed and poured like lava onto the steps. It cooled to the consistency of a thick porridge almost immediately. Crucible melted more rock until the stair was firmly sealed by a plug of cooling granite.
He grunted in satisfaction.
In silence, they walked down the tunnel until they came to the rest of the people huddled in the darkness. At the arrival of the dragon, talking abruptly ceased until there was only the moaning of the wounded echoing through the hollow corridors.
“Now we have a little time. Linsha, would you please tell me what is going on and why are all these people down here? Where is Iyesta? What is Thunder doing here?”
Linsha saw his eyes glowing in the darkness like embers. “Could you give us a little light? We don’t see as well as you.”
That type of magic was simple for a dragon of Crucible’s skills. He muttered a few words in the draconic tongue and formed a bright white light that burned with a steady glow above their heads.
The refugees relaxed a little and began to whisper again among themselves. General Dockett left to check his people. While Mariana and Lanther squatted against the wall and listened, Linsha quickly told Crucible, and Varia, everything that had happened since the owl left Missing City.
She was describing her rescue from the Citadel when Sir Remmik pushed his way through the crowd, strode up to her, and waved his dagger in her face. He looked disheveled, exhausted, and completely out of his element, which perhaps explained the stupid thing he did next.
“You,” he snarled. “I thought that voice sounded familiar. You are still a convicted prisoner of the Solamnic Order. I am placing you under arrest.”
Linsha stared at him in surprise. She had forgotten he was down there, too.
Lanther and Mariana sprang to their feet and stood beside her. Suddenly, Sir Remmik found himself facing three angry people, an owl whose eyes were starting to glow a fierce yellow, and a dragon with teeth as big as his hand. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Lanther spoke instead. “She is no longer your prisoner. She is under the protection of the Legion of Steel.”
“And the militia,” Mariana added, her hand meaningfully close to her sword.
Crucible was in no mood for diplomacy. He picked up the Solamnic commander by his blue tunic and tossed him over the heads of the other people. Linsha heard a thud and a groan and some muffled oaths, then silence. The crowded people edged back a little more from the dragon. Sir Remmik did not try to approach her again.
Hiding an un-Solamnic smile, Linsha continued with her narrative until she came to that morning and the bronze’s arrival. When she finished, Crucible remained silent for a long time. The glow in his slanted eyes turned red then orange and brightened to fiery coals.
At last he stirred and his voice was a rumble in the depths. “Get these people out of here. I want to see Iyesta’s body.”
“Um…” Linsha hesitated. “We can’t. I don’t know where to send them. I didn’t think of this until I saw you. I thought you could lead them out.” She lowered her voice. “I was hoping, too, you could help me check on the brass eggs. I haven’t been able to get down there.”
Crucible regarded her down his long nose. “So she told you about them, did she? Good. Is there anyone in your group with a good memory?”
“My memory is clear enough for directions,” Mariana said.
Varia twitched her wings and bobbed on Linsha’s shoulder. “I remember the way to the entrance where the water weird lives.” The owl had obviously given up her shyness for a while.
Crucible lowered his head until he could look the humans in the face. “That’s on the northwest edge of the city beyond the lines of fighting. That might do well enough. They can hide in the Scorpion Wadi for now.”
“How will they get past the water weird?” asked Varia. “Iyesta said she is very cranky.”
Linsha pulled out the gold chain from under her tunic and carefully detached the brass dragon scale and handed it to the half-elf. “Take this. Iyesta said it would protect me from the guardians of the tunnels. I will go with Crucible.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lanther said. “You may need help with those eggs.”
Crucible gave him a shove with his nose that nearly knocked the Legionnaire off his feet. “Who are you? I do not know you.”
“He’s with the Legion,” Linsha said hurriedly. “He is the one who pulled me out of the Citadel.”
“Do you trust him?”
Linsha shrugged. He had saved her life. How could she say no? “Yes.”
So it was decided. General Dockett and Mariana, with Varia on her shoulder, listened carefully to Crucible’s directions for finding the tunnel entrance on the north side of the city ruins. Although the instructions were complicated, both officers seemed confident they could find the way. Especially with the owl to help them.
Linsha said a quiet and regretful goodbye to Varia. “Tonight,” she said softly, rubbing the owl’s head. “We will talk tonight.”
She and Lanther watched as the militia, the dragon’s guards, and the remnants of the Solamnic circle trooped past and disappeared into the dense darkness of the labyrinth, taking only some makeshift torches and Linsha’s silent prayers with them.
When the last of the wounded and the rear guard shuffled out of sight, Linsha turned down a different tunnel and led Crucible to the chamber that had become Iyesta’s tomb.
There was little left of the great brass except for bones, withered skin, and piles of scales that shone like coins in the light of Crucible’s white flame. The carrion beetles had finished their feast and abandoned the carcass to the smaller carrion eaters and the final decay of time.
Crucible said little as he walked around the remains of his friend and ally. He studied the bones silently, lost in the depths of his own thoughts.
“I will kill him for this,” he snarled.
The cold words rang with the adamant of a vow in the stone chamber. Linsha and Lanther looked at each other.
“If the Missing City is to be ours again, we have to seek a way to destroy the blue,” Lanther said. “He found a way to kill Iyesta without a fight, perhaps we could learn what weapon he has and use it against him.”
“An excellent idea,” growled Crucible.
A frown crossed Linsha’s face. As much as she wanted Crucible to stay, he had other responsibilities. Or did he?
“Are you saying you will help us? Why did you come in the first place? What about Sanction? Where is Lord Bight?” Try as she might, she could not keep the worry out of her voice.
The bronze lowered his head between Linsha and Lanther and gently pushed her toward a tunnel entrance, separating the two humans. “We will talk as we go.” He led her forward and left Lanther to follow as he wished.
“I see you still wear the scale Lord Bight gave you,” Crucible said to Linsha.
“Always. Iyesta gave me one, too, when she told me about the eggs.”
“She did well to trust you.”
Linsha put out a hand to touch the dragon’s shoulder. “Crucible, you are limping. And your wing doesn’t look right. Are you hurt?”
“To answer your earlier question, I came because Varia told me Iyesta was missing and you were in trouble. I came to see if I could help. Now I shall have to stay, because I cannot fly.”
“What?” Linsha exclaimed, horrified for her friend. A dragon who could not fly became very vulnerable and ran a terrible risk of injury or death from other dragons or even determined humans.
A rumble of anger came from the dragon’s chest.
“When I hit the gate I bruised my leg and cracked a bone in my wing. Then those men with the swords slashed the membrane of my left wing. It will heal, but I must give it time. So here I stay.”
“But what about Sanction? And—” Her words broke off as she contemplated the scope of this disaster.
“Lord Bight?” The dragon filled in for her. “He is well enough. I would have come sooner, but your Knights in Sanction ran into a problem. They tried to break the siege and failed. Lord Bight had me settle a few things before I left. Then someone tried to assassinate him.”
A gasp escaped Linsha before she could stop it. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The lord governor had a unit of personal bodyguards to prevent that very thing, and she had risked her career and her life to save him from a Dark Knight assassin.
“He survived,” the dragon went on. “Sergeant Hartbrooke took the dart instead.”
Linsha searched her memory and found a face of one of the guards she vaguely remembered. She had not served in his squad, but she had seen him several times and noticed him at his post when she went to Sanction a year and a half ago. She remembered he had lost his wife in the plague that struck the city.
“He is dead.” It was a statement, not a question.
“He was buried with honor.”
“Will Lord Bight be able to handle the siege in Sanction without you?”
He gave a snort that was both resigned and contemptuous. “The Knights of Solamnia are there. They will have to deal with whatever comes their way.”
They walked together in quiet companionship for several minutes through the dark, wide tunnels while Lanther trailed behind. Here in this section of the labyrinth, the high, rounded tunnels had been too tight for Iyesta, but Crucible was smaller than the brass dragonlord. By lowering his head and stretching out his long body, he fit through the passages without too much trouble.
After a while, Linsha’s weary mind began to sort through the events of the past three days. Something nagged for her attention, something that had been in the back of her mind for some time. She rubbed her eyes and tried to concentrate her thoughts. She was so tired she could hardly stay upright, but somehow she had to think, she had to recall what was wrong. Something about the dragons. The triplets. A certain smell.
She stopped in her tracks so fast Crucible nearly stepped on her. There was a faint odor in the air. She thought it had been a residue of decay from the carcass of Iyesta, but what if the smell was from something else?
“Lanther,” she cried out. “You said your prisoners told you Thunder knew about the eggs, and he certainly knew about the tunnels under the palace. Is it possible he also knew the full extent of the labyrinth? Maybe what he was looking for was the egg chamber.”
There was a silence from the back, then Lanther said reluctantly, “That may be so. The men I talked to were not very clear.”
“Thunder learned about the labyrinth?” Crucible trumpeted. His voice was so loud it echoed back to him from distant tunnels.
Linsha waved at the air around them. “Do you smell that?”
The bronze sprang past her and charged down the tunnel. The small flame of light went with him. Linsha listened to him go.
“Now how do we get there?” Lanther said, coming up beside her.
She took a long breath and let it out unsteadily. “We follow our noses.”
Hand in hand so they would not be separated, the two walked carefully through the intense darkness. Ah too soon the smell filled the tunnels and became a stench. From somewhere not far ahead, they heard a bellow of grief and rage.
Linsha knew then with sick certainty what she would see when she and Lanther reached the end of the tunnel and peered into the huge chamber.
She could not bear it. As they stepped into the great cave, she closed her eyes and leaned on Lanther’s shoulder. She had seen enough.
The huge mound of sand sat barren and empty in the warm light of the magic glows on the roof. Behind the mound stood Crucible, his entire body quivering with rage. At his feet lay the withered hulk of the brass mother, Purestian. Carrion beetles gorged on her remains, and her scales lay in heaps around her corpse. Like Iyesta, she lay sprawled as if she had simply fallen down. There was no sign of a battle or a struggle. And like Iyesta, she was missing her head.