Riverwind

Chapter Twenty-Two

Thouriss finally went limp in Riverwind's grasp. and he released him. The weight of Thouriss's armor took the creature down to the nether reaches of the pool.

Riverwind needed air, but he cast about for an alternative to surfacing in the center of the plaza under the eyes and arms of the goblins and their draconian masters. He found a tunnel in the eastern side of the pool, where a strong inrush of water headed. He swam into the hole and let the water carry him until he could bear it no longer. Driven by a crying need for air, Riverwind went up and surfaced in a tiny grotto. About ten inches of air space was available, so Riverwind trod water and took in deep, heady breaths of air.

The ceiling of the grotto was not natural rock. Although it was too dark for Riverwind to see, the ceiling felt like fired clay. He thought that he must be in some sort of water pipe or cistern, a remnant of the great days of Xak Tsaroth. Riverwind paddled forward in the total darkness, feeling the cracks in the thick terra cotta. The water was flowing, so there had to be a way out. He only hoped it would be big enough for him to pass through.

The bottom of the tunnel rose sharply, and he was able to get his feet under him again. Riverwind sloshed forward in a crouch. The pipe narrowed further, so he got on his hands and knees. Water lapped at his chin. He came to a fork in the pipe. He chose to go left, where a faint light seemed to shine.

On all fours, Riverwind scrambled forward toward the light. His arm wound was bleeding again, his left eye was swollen shut, and his whole body ached from the pounding Thouriss had given him. The pain didn't matter as much as getting out of this sewer and finding Di An and Catchflea.

The light was a finger-thin shaft falling down a round opening that might have been a well in ages past. A fall of rubble had partially filled the water pipe, making a small island. Riverwind tried to stand, to reach up to the light and climb out. He couldn't. The strength ebbed from his limbs, and he sank down, utterly exhausted. The blackness of unconsciousness covered him, and around him the water lapped and swirled.

Di An tiptoed to the end of the vat where Krago's new creation still slept. She hated the hideous thing half-sunk in its bath of quicksilver. It was growing more aware all the time; when Di An was near, it would turn its head as if looking at her. This was all the more disturbing because the monster's eyes were still unopened. Other times, Krago would come in and talk to it, telling it what a beautiful, powerful creature it was. It made Di An ill.

A day had passed since the duel. The draconians had not recovered any bodies from the pool. When the hooks continued to come up empty, Di An and Catchflea didn't know if they should be glad or sad. Riverwind must be dead; and yet, if no body were found, perhaps he had survived somehow. But he couldn't have.

Catchflea had bandaged the slight wound in his side. He was feeling stronger after the meals supplied by Krago. Di An was walking better than she had the day before. Catch-flea remarked on this as she fetched jars of powder for Kra-go's alchemical potions.

“My ankles and legs don't hurt so much now,” she admitted. “But my hips do.”

Krago took the green glass jar from the elf girl without looking up from his work table. He measured a spoonful of yellowish powder, then gave the jar back to Di An.

“Are you getting taller?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

She looked down at her feet as if they would tell her. “How can I be?” she asked.

“You did drink my blood purifying potion,” said Krago.

“And you gave me the antidote.”

“No,” he said, slowly. “I gave you a philtre to soothe the stomach cramps.”

Di An stared at the cleric, then turned to Catchflea. “Am I taller?” she asked.

The old soothsayer got up from his bench and drew himself up beside her. Di An's head had once crested near the bottom of his rib cage; now the crown of her head was even with his shoulders. He clasped her arms and said with a smile, “You are growing.”

She could not fathom it. Her aching joints had been difficult to bear, but compared to the joy of actually growing up-being a woman-the pain was a minor annoyance. Di An begged for a mirror, so she could see for herself.

“I don't keep mirrors in my study,” Krago informed her with disinterest. “Go to the vat room and try a tin tray or something.”

Di An hated to go back there with the thing lying in the vat, but she could almost feel herself growing. She must see what progress she'd made. She went. On a table in the far corner of the shelf-enclosed room was a tin tray, loaded with bottles of liquids, each labeled with arcane symbols. Di An cleared them off and held the tray to her face.

The diggers of Hest owned few mirrors, so Di An had seen her own reflection a handful of times. Now, she studied her face closely. Wasn't her chin a trifle less sharp? Was her hair a bit longer? It no longer stuck up in spiky bits but lay flatter, brushing the bottoms of her pointed ears. There was a pale blush in her skin. She touched her face lightly with three fingers. A coat of finest down had appeared on her cheek.

Behind the elf girl, Lyrexis stirred in the vat. The movement of air caused by Di An's passage and her body warmth had penetrated the creature's half-sleep. Lyrexis sat up.

Di An slipped the strap of her mesh dress off her shoulder-she'd mended the rips the goblin had made in it- and stared at her body. The changes were beginning all over. She was growing up at last. It was a bit frightening, but her pleasure far exceeded her nervousness. A wide smile brightened Di An's face.

A form crossed her line of sight, a blur in the makeshift mirror. She turned.

Lyrexis, the unfinished mate of Thouriss, had risen from her bed of quicksilver and was standing behind Di An. The bulging orbs of her eyes were still covered with pale skin. Round beads of quicksilver fell from the creature's ears and nostrils. It-she-raised a hand toward the elf girl. Di An screamed.

Krago and Catchflea rushed in. “Don't move!” Krago shouted.

“By the Great Hest, I won't!”

Krago moved up behind the semi-conscious Lyrexis. He did not touch the softly scaled flesh of his creation. Instead, he spoke to her in low, authoritative tones.

“Lyrexis, go back. Go back to your bed,” he said. The creature's hand hovered not an inch from Di An's face. “Go back, Lyrexis. You shouldn't be up yet.” The female ophidian swung around, hand outstretched. Krago deliberately walked into range and let the green and yellow hand touch his face.

“Go, Lyrexis. Back to your bed,” he said. The round, hairless head swiveled down. Slowly, stiltedly, the creature tottered back to the vat. Krago eased it into the nourishing bath of quicksilver.

He turned angrily on Di An and curtly waved her out. Once in the study again, he exploded. “What did you do?”

“I was looking at myself in the tin tray and it sneaked up behind me!”

“Thouriss never left the vat and walked before his final awakening,” Krago said. His brows knitted in thought and he folded his arms across his chest. “What does it mean?”

“Curiosity,” said Catchflea. “She can sense the presence of others, yes?” Krago admitted she could. “Can she tell male from female?”

“No. At least, she has no natural knowledge of such things.”

“How can she see without eyes?” Di An asked with a shudder.

“Like the serpents she was derived from, Lyrexis can sense things by their heat. You must be more hot-blooded than I or the old man.” Di An flushed.

Shanz was waiting for them with a squad of goblin guards when the three of them returned to Krago's outer chambers. “What is the commotion?” Shanz grumbled.

“Lyrexis rose from her bath and walked,” Krago said a trifle wearily. “The girl was startled. All is well now.”

Shanz's horned nostrils flared. “Is your work undamaged?”

“Quite undamaged. The time is nigh for Lyrexis to come to life, and her reactions are becoming stronger all the time.” Krago sat back and took up the scroll he'd been perusing. The powder Di An had brought him was still on the table. He set the lid on the jar and glanced at Shanz as if surprised to see him still standing there. “Is there anything else, Captain?” Krago asked briskly.

“We've found no trace of Commander Thouriss or the human. The gully dwarves report that the pool is connected with drains and tunnels that lead off to other parts of the city. I have ordered the goblins to search the old cisterns and wells for signs.” Shanz hissed with frustration. “The damned gully dwarves have the whole city riddled with tunnels. It's no wonder we can't keep track of them!”

“Do what you think necessary,” Krago said. “Military matters are your province, Captain.”

Shanz nodded curtly and departed. When he was gone, Catchflea let out an audible sigh of relief.

Krago glanced at the old man. “He would like to see us all dead,” the cleric said matter-of-factly. “Like most of his kind, he has no trust or liking for warm-blooded things.”

“Why does he defer to you, then? He is afraid of something, yes?” Catchflea said.

“Our mutual patron, the black dragon, Khisanth.”

“Is there actually a black dragon?” Catchflea asked.

“Most certainly,” Krago replied. “Make no mistake, it is she who rules Xak Tsaroth.” He looked down at the scroll spread on the table before him. Without looking up, he added, “Have you ever seen a dragon, old man?”

“Never.” Catchflea shook his head.

Krago's fingers traced a line of writing on the scroll. He was silent so long that Catchflea thought their conversation was over. Suddenly, Krago looked up and locked eyes with the old soothsayer. “Khisanth will arrive soon. She will want revenge for the trouble you've caused. Your death arrives with her.”

Krago returned to his study of the scroll, and Catchflea was left staring in shock at his bowed head.

Di An went to a corner of Krago's sleeping area and slipped down between two stacks of books. The pleasure of her newly discovered growth was tempered by the ever-present danger she and Catchflea lived in. Krago had saved them once, but only for his own convenience. When the dragon returned-Di An shivered at the thought-their last appeal would be gone.

Riverwind, she said silently, her lips gently forming the name. Riverwind.

He awoke with a start.

Riverwind was lying on an island of wet stones. It came back to him in a dizzying rush-Xak Tsaroth, Thouriss, the fight, the pool. A wall of exhaustion had fallen on him, and as he lay in the darkness it took some time for him to regain his equilibrium. His eye was swollen shut, and the cut on his arm felt stiff with dried blood. Riverwind stood and felt around the well's wall. He found what he was looking for: steps formed when the masons had set individual bricks deeper in the wall than others. He took several deep breaths and stretched his tired limbs. The brief sleep had helped some. He climbed up to where he remembered seeing daylight. The top of the well was covered with slabs of stone. Cracks between the rocks let in the dim light he recalled. Riverwind peered out. He could see the broken walls of houses around him.

His bent his neck, braced his shoulders against the blocks, and pushed. A cascade of small pebbles rolled down noisily. Undaunted, he shoved again. One slab moved sideways and the weight of the obstruction dramatically decreased. Though his arms and back were sore, he cleared the rocks away and climbed out of the well.

He'd surfaced in the ruins north and east of the great plaza. The East Falls fumed on his left. Riverwind slipped over the rubble to a low wall and saw that the pot and chain lift was resting on the pavement. A lone armed goblin guarded the pot.

The plaza area was ablaze with torches. Riverwind didn't know how long he'd been unconscious in the well, but it was obvious the goblins and draconians were still looking for their lost leader. Massed torches gave the white stones of Xak Tsaroth a bloody glow.

Riverwind. Riverwind.

He heard his name spoken, but there was no one near him. Ducking behind the wall, he wondered if his injuries were making him delirious. Yet it had sounded so real. He thought of Goldmoon. She would call him like that. Perhaps she knew he was in peril and called out to him.

Footsteps crunched through the gravel on the other side of the wall. Riverwind spied goblin feet, one pair. He lay in wait until the goblin walked past, then he sprang over the wall and grabbed the soldier from behind. The goblin was no match for his desperate strength and the large stone he wielded, and he soon had the creature laid out cold at his feet. Riverwind dragged the goblin into the ruins. He stripped off the creature's breastplate, cloak, helmet, and weapons. The apparel smelled foul. All the items were too short, but in poor light he might get by impersonating a goblin. It had worked before.

Riverwind had no idea what had happened to Catchflea or Di An. They might even be dead by now. But he had to find out, and he had one other task to take care of: seeing to the end of Krago and his hideous experiment. No inhabitant of Krynn would be safe as long as Krago could breed his race of evil ophidians.

Rather than skulk in the shadows, he marched boldly along the center of the street toward the palace. He passed several groups of guards, all of whom spoke to him in a harsh goblin dialect. Riverwind grunted and kept going.

He crossed the footbridge at the base of the East Falls and entered the ancient palace by means of the old postern door Di An had been taken to. The smell of the draconian officers' quarters was overwhelming.

“What do you want?” snarled a draconian.

Riverwind hunched his shoulders and let the helmet slide down over his nose. “Master Krago sent for me,” he said gruffly.

“Well, get going,” the draconian said. “Stupid goblin.”

Riverwind moved on, keeping the cloak close around him. To his right were more alcovelike rooms occupied by the draconians. To his left was an empty corridor. He skirted the open door and headed down the passage.

Four goblins stood, two on each side of the door. “Master Krago sent for me,” he said, keeping his face averted.

“G'wan in,” said the nearest guard. Riverwind put out a hand to grasp the bronze door handle. When he did, he exposed his arm.

“Huh? What's this?” said the near goblin. He drew his sword. “You ain't one o' us!”

“Thank the gods for that!” Riverwind exclaimed. He whipped back the cloak and drew his goblin sword.

He took the chief guard's attack and turned it, thrusting his point through the goblin, below his breastplate. The guard fell backward, knocking down his comrade. Behind Riverwind, the second pair of goblins closed in. He felt a sword tip rip through his cloak. He turned sharply and harried the two guards away. The narrow corridor did not allow much room to maneuver, so the goblins' advantage of numbers was largely nullified.

“Yah-ha!” Riverwind shouted, just to rattle his foes. The goblins kept off until he found the door handle behind his back and twisted it. Riverwind slipped inside and threw the door shut.

The room was a frozen tableau. Catchflea, quill in hand, sat by Krago at the table. The young cleric's mouth was open in midword. The room was cluttered with books, papers, jars, and beakers. Riverwind didn't see Di An.

“Riverwind! You're alive!” Catchflea cried, astonished.

“So far!”

The old soothsayer hopped up, spilling the ink pot over the transcript he was making. Krago's surprise at seeing Riverwind changed to dismay at the damage done to the paper. He groaned loudly, trying to stem the flow of ink over the scroll. “Look what you've done!” he cried.

“You keep still,” Riverwind warned.

He thrust his sword through the door handle and latch plate, holding the door closed. The goblins rattled and pounded on the outside. Riverwind and Catchflea pushed a table, a set of creaking shelves, and a heavy oaken chest full of chemicals against the door. As books and bottles fell from the shelves, Krago wailed, “Stop, you idiots! Those are important and valuable books. You're destroying my work!”

Riverwind withdrew the goblin sword from the door. He advanced on Krago, point held out. The young cleric stood his ground until the tip pricked his skin. He shuffled backward.

“You dare not hurt me! The dragon will wreak terrible vengeance on you if you do!” he gasped.

“You keep invoking this dragon, but I've seen no evidence of one,” Riverwind said levelly. “I think it's all a pose to keep the lizard men in line and make them do what you want.”

“There is a dragon, you'll see!”

“Shut up and sit down,” Riverwind replied. The pounding on the door got louder and more regular. The goblins had fetched help.

“There's no room to swing a battering ram out there,” the plainsman said, “but we can't keep them out for long.”

“What do we do?” asked Catchflea.

“I'm thinking.” He surveyed the cleric's quarters. “Where's Di An?”

“Here.”

Riverwind turned to the sound of her voice. She came from the far side of the room, rubbing her eyes as if she'd been asleep. He looked twice before he realized it really was her. The change in her was even more noticeable to him, since he hadn't watched its gradual progression. Di An had grown six inches in the short days since he'd seen her last. Her black hair now almost reached her shoulders, and her white skin had a pink tinge. Though still quite thin, she had the figure of an adult elf woman, all the more apparent in her ragged, and now short, girl's dress.

“I knew you would come back,” she said. Even her voice was slightly lower.

“What's happened to you?” The young plainsman's question was punctuated by a splintering crash. The bright edge of an axe showed through a newly cut crack in the door.

“Is there another way out of here?” Riverwind demanded of Krago.

“Do you expect me to tell you?” the cleric said with a sneer.

“You will if it means your life!” Riverwind raised the crude sword to strike Krago.

“If you kill me, you will all perish. Shanz will show you no mercy.”

Riverwind lowered his weapon. He grabbed Krago by the front of his robe and dragged him to his feet. The slight cleric's toes brushed the floor as Riverwind held him up.

“Tell them to back off,” he said. “Back off, or I'll hack that monster you're making to bits!” Krago paled at this threat. All his work Wasted-what would Khisanth do to him then?

“This is Krago!” the cleric shouted. “Get back from the door. Get back, I say!”

They heard Shanz's muffled reply, “Master Krago, are you all right?”

“For now, good Shanz. The barbarian has threatened to harm Lyrexis if you don't stop now!”

“As you wish.” More muffled commands, and the axe squeaked free of the door and disappeared. “We're withdrawing” Shanz called.

“Tell them to go to the great plaza,” Riverwind said. Krago repeated the order.

“Very well.” Heavy footsteps tramped away.

“Show me the creature,” Riverwind said.

“You will not harm her!” Krago cried, twisting in River-wind's grip.

“Show me.”

“It's almost awake,” Di An said after Krago led them to the vat room. She stood apart from Riverwind and did not meet his eyes.

The vat of quicksilver churned in slow ripples as Lyrexis stiffly moved her arms and legs. In the past day, her eyes had darkened, and her lids cracked apart just enough to expose the vertical green pupils. Her scales were hardening, losing their translucency. When the humans and Di An drew near, the creature sat up and made inarticulate sounds through closed lips.

Riverwind found himself staring at Lyrexis in awe. He knew that Krago's work was evil, and yet, he had actually created life.

“This is a very crucial time!” Krago said excitedly. “When her eyes are fully open, I must perform the Spell of Awakening. It will lessen the shock of her birth and make her acknowledge me as her true, ah, parent.”

Riverwind brought his mind back to the situation at hand. “We've no time for that,” he said. “We're leaving, and you're our hostage.”

“Ignorant lout! You don't understand! If Lyrexis awakens without the proper soothing spells, she'll run wild. There's no telling what harm she'll cause and come to!”

“Tie his hands, Catchflea. If he talks, gag him.”

“He may be right, tall man. I have been reading his spells, yes? The creature has an almost human form, but it still has the mind of a serpent.”

“You too, Catchflea? If the creature is going to die, let it die now before it is aware of its evil purpose.”

Di An stared at Lyrexis. “I say kill it now.”

“What?” asked Riverwind.

“Kill it now. Take a sword and cut off its head!”

All the agitated shouting seemed to galvanize the awakening creature. It ceased its plaintive mumbling and threw a leg over the side of the vat. Its movements were smoother now, more like those of a fully conscious being. Everyone drew back as the creature, some seven feet tall, swung to its feet.

“Lyrexis!” Krago breathed. He stepped forward to take the creature's hand. She felt the warm flesh of Krago's palm pressed to hers. She tilted her sightless head and shuddered. Her hand closed tightly over Krago's with a horrible crunching sound.

The cleric screamed. Riverwind raised his sword, but the creature jerked Krago toward her. Grabbing the cleric at the waist, she hoisted him in the air.

Riverwind said, “Old man, you and Di An get out!”

“But where? Shanz is waiting outside, yes.”

“To the study!”

Krago wept and pleaded with his creation to put him down. Lyrexis's arms bowed, and she lowered him to the floor. Then, at the last second, she bent backward and launched Krago at Riverwind.

The plainsman managed to turn aside his sword, but that was about all. He went down with Krago on top of him, cracking his head on the hard stone floor. Stunned, he didn't see Lyrexis's eyelids finally split fully apart. Eyes that were startlingly yellow showed long, dagger-shaped pupils in their centers. Lyrexis surveyed the room she'd so long dwelt in. The open door beyond the bookshelves beckoned. She threw back her head and let out a hissing howl that chilled the blood of all who heard it.

“Get off me,” Riverwind said, shoving Krago. The cleric groaned and painfully sat up, cradling his right hand.

“She hurt me,” he said through clenched teeth. “She crushed my hand! I warned you-”

“She'll do a lot worse than that if we don't stop her,” Riverwind declared. He stood up and, sword ready, prepared to cut at the creature's exposed back. Krago tangled his feet and good arm in Riverwind's legs.

“No!” he gasped. “I won't let you hurt herl I made her. She is mine to teach!”

“Let me go!” Riverwind rapped Krago on the chin with the crossguard of his stolen sword. Krago went slack, and Riverwind disentangled himself from the stunned cleric.

“Catchflea! Di An! Watch out!” he shouted as Lyrexis stormed into the study. The creature opened its mouth and screeched at the two of them. Catchflea hurled pots of powders at it, which only made it madder. Riverwind reached the door and slashed at Lyrexis. The cheap goblin steel cut the creature, but its hard scales were as tough as leather armor. Saliva glistened from her fangs, long glassy needles protruding below her upper lip. Despite his weapon, Riverwind retreated at the sight of the creature's fearsome teeth.

Lyrexis stalked him, circling the table. Riverwind kept the furniture between them, but she heaved the table out of her path and advanced on him. The plainsman cut at her, leaving long bleeding marks in the horny scales of her forearms. She ignored these hurts and came on, causing him to fall back again.

Despair crept into the warrior's heart. There seemed to be nothing he could do to stop this monster. She took his best blows as if they were insect bites.

Catchflea appeared in the door behind Lyrexis with a blazing torch. He clubbed the creature across the shoulders with it. Cuts Lyrexis could bear, but burning outraged her. She swatted the torch away, knocking Catchflea against the wall. Krago stirred, moaning. Riverwind circled around toward the old man, his blade dented and nicked from hitting the ophidian's skin.

Di An appeared in the doorway. “Shanz and his soldiers are outside again!” she cried. “They heard the noise!”

“Get back!”

Lyrexis flew at the elf girl. She crashed into Krago's study just as Shanz's goblin troops smashed their way in from the outer door. The sight of more swords infuriated the already berserk creature, and she tore into the ranks of goblins, seizing them in her long, powerful arms and biting them to death. The goblins, never the bravest of fighters, panicked and tried to flee, creating a terrible confusion.

Riverwind grabbed Krago by the collar of his robe and dragged him out. Di An was close on their heels. Catchflea limped after them. Keeping close to the wall, they stayed out of the monster's sight as it battled the yelling goblins. The goblins were ill-equipped to withstand the creature's ferocious onslaught. The last living ones fled the room, throwing away their swords and shields. Lyrexis, bleeding from dozens of minor cuts, tore out the broken door and, howling like all the fiends in the Abyss, stomped down the corridor.

Flames licked through the door of the inner chamber, fed by the ancient scrolls and weird powders. Fantastic tongues of green and violet fire lapped at the wooden book shelves.

“My work!” Krago moaned. “My books and my equipment!”

“Let it burn,” Riverwind said sternly. “Only evil has come of it.”

“But let us save ourselves, yes?” Catchflea said. The left side of his face was mottled with dark bruises. He checked the corridor. “It seems clear.”

“Go.” Catchflea scooped up a goblin shield and slipped out.

The corridor was littered with fallen goblins and their arms. Riverwind replaced his battered sword with a fresher specimen. He let go of Krago, but kept him within sword's reach. The ashen-faced cleric nursed his broken hand and stumbled ahead, muttering to himself.

Catchflea was waiting where the passage went left to the draconian officers' quarters. The rooms were a shambles. The companions didn't have long to examine the room, however; behind them, smoke and flames were beginning to fill the far end of the corridor.

They moved on through the postern and into the street. The footbridge across the stream below the East Falls was ablaze, and dead goblins were strewn around it.

“I see what happened,” Riverwind said. “They set fire to the bridge to contain the monster, but it stormed over anyway.”

“Which way are we going?” asked Di An.

“To the courtyard, I'm afraid. The pot lift to the surface is there.”

“You'll never make it,” Krago said weakly. “You had better hope we do.”

They waded through the stream, ignoring the slain soldiers floating in the water. As they gained the other side, a crack like lightning flashed from the courtyard, following by a booming roll of thunder.

“What was that?” Di An gasped.

“Shanz,” Krago replied, “using one of his spells.”

“Shanz can use magic?” Riverwind asked wonderingly.

“He knows two spells well. Levitation and the magical missile. That's what we just heard.”

They hurried down the street, Riverwind leading with his sword flat against Krago's ribs. The sounds of fighting grew louder. The lifting pot was visible to them now, sitting on its stubby legs. As they neared the edge of the yard, the body of an armed goblin came hurtling through the air. Lyrexis stalked into view. Her tough hide bore more wounds, including a crossbow quarrel lodged in her scaly chest. She held a heavy length of timber-which looked like part of a ballista-and smashed any creature that moved into range.

Riverwind and his group crouched by the wall only a few yards from the lift. Diagonally across the courtyard, Shanz and his six draconian officers stood several steps behind a wall of shields. They wore full battle regalia, but their weapons were unbloodied. So far, none of them had closed with the rampaging creature.

Shanz waved his clawed hands. At this distance, Riverwind couldn't hear his words, but a sliver of white fire grew between his hands. He hurled the magical flame at Lyrexis. She swung her timber at it, hitting it. It exploded with a deafening crash.

“Let's go, while they're all blinded by the flash!” Riverwind said.

“No good,” Krago said tersely. “The lift won't rise without gully dwarves to weigh down the counterweight.”

“Where is the counterweight?”

“At the top of the lift, in the Hall of Ancestors.”

Riverwind slammed the heel of his fist against the wall. “Blast!”

“Could we climb the chain?” suggested Di An.

“So many hundred feet? I could not, nor could Riverwind with his arm wound,” said Catchflea.

Shanz recovered from the flare of his magic missile and spied Riverwind and company across the courtyard. He bellowed an order. The wall of shields quivered and broke apart, each shield borne by a terrified goblin. They tried to skirt Lyrexis, but she would not let them pass by unchallenged. She stormed into them, laying into them with her timber. The goblins were so demoralized that they cowered helplessly under their shields. She battered them down and slew them where they knelt.

The draconians formed a line and came at Lyrexis. The creature seemed to recognize the draconians were different from the humans and goblins, that they were cold-blooded and scaled like herself. She lowered her club and waited for them, panting. The draconians slowed and stopped a few yards from the now quiescent creature.

“Krago! Can you hear me?” Shanz called out.

The cleric looked to Riverwind. The plainsman nodded for him to answer. “I hear you, Shanz,” Krago responded.

“Your offspring has slain most of the garrison. Do you hear, Krago? The goblin soldiers are defeated!”

Fire spurted from the postern gate. The plume of smoke caught Shanz's eye. “Our quarters are on fire!”

“Your schemes are ruined!” Riverwind yelled. “Stand aside and let us pass!”

“Nothing is lost but time,” Shanz replied. “The Great One will be angry, but we can begin again.” More loudly he said, “Let Krago go, warm-blood. Set him free and I'll allow you and your companions to go.” '

Di An clutched Riverwind's arm. “Don't believe him!”

“Don't worry, I don't.” To Krago he muttered. “Can you raise the lift by magic?”

“Levitation? I don't know the spell,” he said flatly.

Riverwind put the edge of the goblin blade to Krago's throat. “You're a free man once we get to the surface. What do you think Shanz and his dragon mistress will do to you for failing?”

Catchflea added, “They hanged gully dwarves just on the suspicion of helping us. What will they do to you for your obvious and costly failures? It will not be pleasant, yes.”

“I need an answer, warm-blood,” Shanz called.

“What'll it be?” Riverwind urged Krago.

Krago looked around at the destruction of Khisanth's plans. He stared down at his ruined hand, now black and swollen. “I'll take you up,” he murmured.

They stood out from the wall, Riverwind keeping his sword visible at Krago's throat. “We'll keep Master Krago a while longer,” he cried. “Stand back.”

Lyrexis's drooping head lifted when she heard River-wind's voice. She hissed deep in her throat at the sight of Di An and the humans. Raising her club, she took a step toward them.

“Keep her back!” Shanz snapped. The draconians closed together, shoulder to shoulder, blocking her way. Lyrexis sidled left, then right, but her path was cut off. Frustrated, she hurled the timber at the hated warm-bloods. It sailed over Riverwind's head, smashing against the wall behind him.

They reached the lift. It was a big pot, but it would be a tight fit for all four of them. Di An scrambled in, with Catchflea close behind.

Lyrexis, with whatever instinct was instilled in her newborn mind, understood her enemies were getting away. She displayed her wicked teeth and advanced. Butting into the draconians' shields didn't discourage her. “Kill,” she said distinctly. Her first words. “Enemy. Kill.”

One of the draconians made a mistake. He used his sword to fend off the enraged creature. The keenly forged blade cut Lyrexis, and her reluctance to battle cold-bloods like herself vanished in an instant. She rammed her iron-nailed hand through the draconian's shield, seized him by the throat and crushed it, armor, bone, and all.

“Kill that beast,” Shanz ordered.

“No!” Krago cried out.

“Get in the pot!” Riverwind demanded.

The draconians closed around Lyrexis to cut her down. Their strength and their weapons were far superior to the goblins' and they knew their business. That the newly born ophidian had not been properly prepared for her awakening made the task easier. One of Lyrexis's legs crumpled, and she fell. Draconian swords rose and fell, and the howling and hissing ended in a rattling gasp.

They were all finally in the pot, though Riverwind and Krago each had one leg dangling outside. “The spell! The spell!” Riverwind snapped. Krago turned away from his poor dead creation. He knotted his good hand into a fist and uttered the arcane words of the spell.

Shanz looked over the remains of Lyrexis and, satisfied the wild creature was dead, turned to the escaping quartet. He saw Krago with his eyes rolled back, hand clenched, mouthing the words of a spell. The stubby legs of the pot bobbled on the ground. Shanz's own magical senses tingled. He knew what Krago was doing.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Krago, I command you to stop!”

The legs lifted off the pavement.

“Stop, Krago! Stopl” Shanz turned a dead goblin over with his foot and picked up the soldier's crossbow. He cocked the steel bow with his bare hands and fumbled for a bolt in the goblin's belt pouch.

“Don't falter now, man,” Riverwind urged.

The pot rose faster. Krago was chanting loudly now. A subtle tang filled the air around the lift, the same sort of sparkling sensation that spreads after a violent thunderstorm. The companions rose through the air, the pot rattling up against the hoisting chain. The dark roof of the cavern rushed toward them.

Shanz butted the crossbow against his shoulder and squeezed the trigger bar. The bolt flew wide, and the pot continued to rise. He quickly cocked the bow and fitted another projectile. The range was extreme, almost straight up. Shanz squinted through the brass pins that were the front sight on the bow. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“Ah!” Krago gasped suddenly, his eyelids snapping open. The sudden cessation of the spell had the intended effect. The pot wobbled and began its precipitous plunge to the floor.

“Grab the chain!” Riverwind screamed.

The three of them grabbed hold of the iron chain as the pot dropped away from them. Krago's dead body, a bolt protruding from its back, fell into the pot as the cast iron kettle plummeted to the floor, hundreds of feet below. They hung, swaying only slightly, listening to the crossbow bolts sing through the air around them.

“Is everyone here?” Riverwind hissed. His arms felt as though they were on fire.

“I'm-here,” Di An whispered a few feet above him.

From Catchflea, above the elf girl, there was no sound, but his rag-covered body hugged the chain as if it were a dear friend.

“We must climb up,” Riverwind said. “Move, Catchflea.”

“Can't,” the old man hissed. “Can't.”

Riverwind couldn't spare the strength to look up. His face pressed into the cold iron, he said harshly, “If you don't move, we'll all die. Di An and I can't climb over you!”

Catchflea inched his left hand up. When it had a grip, he inched his right hand up. With his toes in the loops of the chain, he tried to take some of the strain from his thin arms. His face was deathly pale.

Di An, usually the best climber of the three, round the going tough. Her new body was much heavier than she was used to. Nothing seemed to fit just right. In silence, the three made the agonizing ascent.

As the dark shape hurtled down, Shanz and his dracon-ians stood back. The iron kettle struck the floor with such force, it buried its bottom half in the stone and a great crack split it in two.

Shanz walked to the kettle and peered in. Krago's lifeless eyes stared up at him. The draconian leader spat. “Always thus for warm-bloods,” he said to no one in particular. “Always the grand ideas which come to naught. That is why we shall prevail. With the Great Ones to lead us, our discipline will overcome all the warm-bloods and their fancy ideas.”

The other draconians joined him.

“Don't just stand there,” he said irritably. “Round up a hundred gully dwarves to clean up this mess and replace the pot. Do you want our mistress to see this putrid waste?' The draconians quickly dispersed, propelled by their fear of the black dragon.