The Black wing

Chapter 24

The dark cleric's room in the basement of Shalimsha tower was small, cramped, and dark, just the way Andor liked it. As personal cleric to Dragon Highlord Maldeev himself, he rated a much larger space, even a room in the airy upper floors of the tower. But that would not have suited Andor's tastes, devel shy;oped as a youngster in a home carved into the base of an enormous vallenwood tree. Andor was a Qualinesti elf.

Dark elf now, Andor reminded himself bitterly. Cast out by his own people after his study of magic had taken an evil turn, Andor had been pronounced a dark elf and forbidden to call himself a Qualinesti until his actions again reflected the good natures of his people. Unfortunately, bitterness over his banishment had only cemented Andor's affiliation with evil. The cleric always hid his delicately pointed ears beneath a dark, coarse-spun hood that also kept his hairless elven face

in perpetual shadow. He preferred that people feared him for his skills, instead of scorned him, or worse still, pitied him for his outcast status.

Andor was kneeling at the altar to Takhisis in Shalimsha's temple, preparing for the union ceremony he was to perform later in the day between Maldeev and Khisanth. His role was to serve as the channel between the queen and her mortal ser shy;vants, thus his mind would link with the Dragon Queen's during the ceremony. The thought brought fear to the cleric's heart.

She will see my guilt, Andor thought with certainty. She will know the reason for the shame I have borne since the attack. He had to explain himself first. Andor began his fer shy;vent prayers.

"Dragon Queen," the dark cleric began, using the name by which Takhisis was known among elves, "I must humbly beg your forgiveness. I did not intend that my skills be used against one who served you. I didn't know, didn't ask the purpose. It was not my place to question …" The dark elf's voice trailed off, knowing he sounded weak willed, and very guilty. Andor had a sudden thought.

"I know you can read my thoughts if you've a mind to, but you must realize the depth of my regret for my unwitting part in the betrayal. To prove that my allegiance to you is as steadfast as ever, I'll reveal the name of the one who has betrayed us both."

The dark elf leaned in needlessly and whispered, "His name is-"

Andor's voice was abruptly silenced.

Carrying a torch in one hand, Khisanth, as the black-haired woman Onyx, rushed down the narrow, twisting staircase. Not that she liked the human form, but it had its uses. She could never have gotten to the basement of the tower in her enormous dragon form.

The dark cleric Andor would know, if anyone in Shalimsha would, what sort of spell could have caused the hideous transformation of Jahet. Khisanth could not erase from her memory the sight of the glass dragon shattering.

The young woman had to hurry now. The union ceremony with Maldeev was to take place at sundown, and much needed to be done beforehand. Khisanth took the last two steps as one and hastened down the corridor, which was nar shy;row as two humans side by side, though very tall. A young soldier had told her that the dark cleric's door was the second one on the right. Passing the first, she stopped before a small, solid oak door, light in color from lack of exposure to sun shy;light, with a half-oval top. To her surprise, the door was ajar; she could see dim candlelight flickering through the crack.

Onyx knocked loudly. She heard nothing. Peering inside, she slowly pushed the heavy door open. "Andor?" The young woman stepped in tentatively and looked around. Maldeev's dark cleric was in shadow, on his knees at his shrine to Takhisis. "It's Khis-I mean Onyx." She held up her torch as she approached. "I've come to ask your counsel about a magical spell." Onyx's voice caught in her human throat.

Andor, the dark cleric of Dragon Highlord Maldeev, was facedown on the altar, blood trailing from his mouth. A dia shy;mond-encrusted knife protruded from his back.

"Murder within the high ranks of the wing, and on the day of our union," Maldeev muttered darkly. "I hope it's not an ill omen. What this is is damned inconvenient, since Andor was to perform the ceremony." The highlord pushed back the sleeves of his robe and threw a log on the fire, send shy;ing sparks flying.

"I'm sorry I had to be the bearer of such news on this day," said Khisanth.

"What were you doing in the basement, anyway?" the highlord asked without turning.

"I… wanted to ask Andor some questions about the ceremony," Khisanth lied, remembering Jahef s words about Maldeev's distrust of magic.

"You could have asked me," said Maldeev.

"I didn't wish to bother you with minor details," she said quickly. "We'll have to launch an investigation into Andor's death-"

"Yes, of course. Tomorrow," Maldeev said. "Right now I have to arrange for that other little cleric-what's his name, Wiib? — to perform the ceremony. Wait here for me, I have something to discuss with you when I'm finished," he ordered, then strode out the door that led to the interior of the tower.

Khisanth lay her head on her claws, her lips pulled back in a grimace of annoyance. Did he think she had nothing to do today but wait for him? She hoped to get in a quick feast and nap before the festivities. The dragon could make no sense of Maldeev's water clock, but the sunlight coming in from the courtyard told her that there was less than a quarter day left before sundown.

She could take care of one of those tasks here, she realized. Settling in for a nap, Khisanth's head jerked up when a knock sounded at the small door through which Maldeev had just left.

"Come," she said.

Salah Khan's black head wrapping poked through the opening. He saw that Khisanth was alone before the fire. "Excuse me, Number One. I was told the highlord was here," he explained. "There is a problem between the baaz and kapak draconians that requires his immediate attention, and …" The human's muffled voice trailed off awkwardly.

Khisanth had noticed a decided chill in the air during all encounters with Salah Khan since the battle at Lamesh. They both knew that if not for Jahet's death, Khisanth would be exchanging vows with Maldeev's second-in-command today, not the highlord.

"Highlord Maldeev said he would be returning momen shy;tarily. Enter and wait," she invited, nodding toward a spot near the hearth.

The human commander paused, considering. "Thank you," he said at last, then stepped around the door. He moved in to stand before the fire with his arms clasped stiffly behind his back.

Dragon and human waited together in uncomfortable silence. Khisanth feigned sleep; Salah Khan stared straight ahead. Finally the human broke the stillness.

"I wish you well in your impending union, Khisanth," he said. "The wing will benefit from the combination of your's and Maldeev's impressive skills."

"Thank you, Khan," said Khisanth.

The human seemed to relax a bit and even turned to look at the dragon. "Highlord Maldeev must be favored by the gods to have merited union with two such impressive drag shy;ons in one lifetime."

Khisanth only nodded, feeling her spine tingle slightly at the reminder of Maldeev's own assessment of their union.

Salah Khan clasped his hands together and turned his masked face toward the ceiling. "I only thank Takhisis that our brave highlord had the foresight to wear a magical ring into the battle that killed the mighty, faithful Jahet." He was watching Khisanth closely out of the corners of his eyes. "Just think, if he had not overcome his distrust of magic simply to appease Andor and Jahet, why, he might be dead himself!" The human shuddered.

Khan shook his wrapped head. "We shouldn't dwell today on such grim thoughts of what might have been. This day is a monumental one for the entire Black Wing," he finished brightly.

Khisanth could hardly hear the human over the thoughts Kahn's artless words had sent tumbling through her brain.

"Do you think Highlord Maldeev will be much longer?" Salah Khan was asking, looking anxiously toward the door. "I really must be getting back to deal with the problem between the draconians___"

Khisanth struggled to her feet. "Tell the highlord I couldn't wait any longer," she instructed, her tone brusque and dis shy;tant. "Tell him I had something to attend to, that I'll see him in the temple at sundown." With that, the black dragon stormed out of the large doorway and into the courtyard.

Watching her hasty departure, Salah Khan smiled beneath his mask.

Why hadn't she thought of it herself? Khisanth stormed inwardly. The dragon-turned-rodent scurried through the corridors of the tower, pressed into the shadowy corners where wall met floor.

There were only three magical things in proximity to Jahet in the battle that had killed her. Jahet herself, Khisanth, and Maldeev's ring.

Wear the bloody thing, Maldeev. What will it hurt? It just may come in handy.

Jahet herself had talked Maldeev into wearing Andor's creation.

Andor and his ring were the key to the puzzle. The dark cleric was central in, if not the instigator of, a conspiracy against Jahet. His mysterious murder supported the idea that he didn't act alone. Khisanth could think of no reason the cleric would want Jahet dead. Now he was dead, too. Some shy;one had silenced him.

That left only the ring as evidence. Khisanth couldn't sug shy;gest to Maldeev, today of all days, that he might have unwit shy;tingly played some part in Jahef s death. The highlord would be furious and refuse to allow her to inspect the ring. She would simply have to find and examine the ring without his knowing it.

Which was why Khisanth was scurrying toward Mal shy;deev's chambers as a mouse. She hadn't much time before he would return to change for the ceremony. As if to confirm the thought, a young serving girl in muslin cap and apron passed by the mouse, sloshing boiling water from two heavy, gray pine buckets. Setting the pails down before the high-lord's door, the girl knocked perfunctorily, knowing the highlord was not yet present. She turned the knob and kicked the door open. The girl didn't see the brown mouse that skittered in behind her before she kicked the door closed with her heel.

Khisanth's first look at Maldeev's chambers surprised her. The decor was austere for a man of his rank. The main room was spacious enough to hold a dragon, if one could only get inside. The far wall consisted almost entirely of walk-out windows that led to a southern parapet overlooking the courtyard. Maldeev had spoken his first words to her from there, she remembered.

The windows were divided by a ten-foot-wide section of wall that provided the backdrop for Maldeev's bed. Khi shy;santh's eyes widened at the sight of the only luxurious item in the room; three steps led up to the enormous, canopied thing draped with netting and covered with mounds of soft pillows.

Khisanth looked around for anything that might house a ring and spotted a wooden clothing press on the short, east shy;ern wall. At this distance and angle, she could just make out a chest on top. Looking to the serving wench who was pouring the water into a copper bath, Khisanth hugged the wall and made her way to the press.

Now what? she asked herself. How was she going to get to the top of the towering wooden cabinet? Then she spied the tapestry hanging behind it and had her answer. Extending her delicate ivory nails, Khisanth sprang from her hind feet and hooked her little claws into the weave, pulling, pushing her way up the wall tapestry. Coming just past the top of the press, Khisanth launched herself at its smooth, polished sur shy;face, and nearly skidded off the far side. She stopped the skid by latching onto an embroidered cloth beneath the chest, which was twice her height and three times her length.

Khisanth's little heart hammered against her ribs at the near accident. Pausing only a moment to slow her breathing, she fiddled with the simple clasp on the chest until it snapped up with a soft "ping." She raised up on her hind feet, pushed the lid of the velvet-lined chest over her head, and peered within.

Khisanth pushed aside several ribboned, wax-sealed scrolls and an elaborate silver circlet she had never seen the highlord wear. Spotting a number of rings in the dim recesses of the box, Khisanth slipped her hind quarters over the edge to get a closer look. For someone who never wore rings, Mal-deev sure seems to have a lot of them, she grumbled inwardly, trying to recall the brief memory of the ring he had worn at Lamesh. It had been smooth and black, like smoky glass, she remembered, with a gold band. Her eyes fell on it, and her pulse jumped with excitement. Running her paws over the flat, smooth stone, then over the edges, her right claw met with a catch.

"Highlord!" she heard the serving wench cry suddenly.

Khisanth's mouse head shot up from the box. Maldeev was marching into his chambers, whistling a tune softly. He patted the serving girl on the bottom in an obviously familiar gesture.

"I wish we had time now, my dear," he said wistfully, as he began stripping off his clothing. "It'll have to wait until after tonight's festivities." Bare-chested, Maldeev headed across the room for the press. Khisanth dived into the box.

"I was delayed by some unpleasantness, and I'm not even sure I'll have time for a bath now."

Maldeev would surely see that the lid of his chest was open, and then he would look inside and find her! How on Krynn could she explain this? She was so close! Khisanth looked at the ring next to her in the box. What had the knight Tate said? "Live to fight another day," or some such thing. It made more sense to her now in her much smaller mouse form.

Khisanth sprang from the box, scrambled across the press, tiny nails clicking against the wood. Maldeev was mere steps away, head bent to the task of fastening his cuffs. Heart ham shy;mering, Khisanth launched herself at the tapestry and sank her claws in. She paused one frantic heartbeat to catch her breath, then slid paw over paw down the wall hanging, and dropped soundlessly to the floor. Hugging the floorboards, she made for the door.

"Someone has been in my chest," she heard Maldeev say angrily when he reached the press. "What do you know about it, girl?"

The young serving girl's voice trembled. "I know nothing, sir. I came in just moments ago with water. There was no one here. I swear I have walked only between the door and the tub, sir."

"Where is the ring?" he screeched, shuffling frantically through the items in the box. He sighed in relief. "Ah, good, here it is. Nothing seems to be missing."

Khisanth didn't need to see Maldeev's hands to know which ring he'd been so frantic to find. She was not surprised to see him step back and hold a gold-banded black gem up to catch the light of the lanterns. In the yellow light, the high-lord's face was aglow with a smile of malicious contentment.

As the sun sank behind the mountains in the west, trum shy;peters in two crisp lines on the temple steps announced Khi-santh's arrival. The black dragon touched a claw to her sword-and-skull choker to make certain it was properly cen shy;tered around her neck before stepping through the archway.

Khisanth felt a bit light-headed, and only partially because she had not had time to feast. She had the same disorienting feeling she did when shapechanging, as if she were standing outside herself, watching her stiff-legged approach. Would she have the strength to do what she must?

Khisanth was vaguely aware that the crowds of human soldiers gathered in the temple for the union ceremony were cheering her name. She blinked away the smoke from the many burning braziers and stepped forward. Maldeev stood waiting at the front of the temple, before the altar to Takhisis.

The temple had been one of the first structures Maldeev had designed in the renovation of Lamesh, and it reflected his tastes. Cold, clean lines, smooth edges, open spaces, all arching toward the front of the temple, to end at the simple altar. The shrine to Takhisis was really just a smooth black marble slab held aloft by two uncharacteristically ornate columns. The pillars were each a carved image of a chromatic dragon with five intertwined dragon heads.

Two silver chalices waited for Khisanth and Maldeev on the black marble slab.

The trumpets blared again, reminding Khisanth that she was supposed to join the highlord at the altar. The dragon stepped forward mechanically, past the cheering men, past Maldeev's second-in-command in the front row. Salah Khan's expression was as unreadable as ever through his black head wrap. He stood without cheering, though he looked up and nodded once as the black dragon passed him.

Khisanth moved to stand next to the dragon highlord of the Black Wing, resplendent in a red-velvet, fur-lined cape, horned highlord mask, ceremonial dagger… and black ring.

Wiib, the short, bald cleric who was taking Andor's place, stepped from the shadows behind the altar, swinging a smoking brazier on a chain. He set the brazier on the stone floor, took a scroll from the depths of his coarse robe, and unfurled it. Wiib cleared his throat.

"Maldeev and Khisanth. To blood you are committed, by blood you shall unite your bonds to the almighty Queen of Darkness. Together you shall fight for her glory and in her cause." The little man lifted a chalice in each hand and extended it toward the man and the dragon. Khisanth had to stoop down to receive it. "Drink the essence of Takhisis."

It isn't, really, Khisanth reminded herself, but having met the Dragon Queen, she could not stifle an involuntary shud shy;der. The dragon took the small chalice of red wine in her right claw and tossed it down her throat. Next to her Mal shy;deev did the same.

Khisanth set the chalice on the altar and turned abruptly to face the throng, clearing her throat. "We have completed the highlord's portion of the ceremony. Now I propose a tradi shy;tional dragon ritual to signify and secure undying trust."

Maldeev looked up at her, clearly surprised, even with his mask to cover his expression.

"We will mingle blood." Khisanth held her left claw-arm out and raked a talon from her right claw over the tough hide, bringing a fine bead of red blood welling to the surface. She nodded toward Maldeev to do the same.

The highlord hesitated for a moment, eyes shifting. When he could find no reason or way to decline, Maldeev pulled his cape back from his left arm and slipped his dagger from its sheath. Khisanth's eyes lingered on the diamonds twin shy;kling around the hilt, then blinked to bring herself back to the task at hand. Biting his lower lip, the highlord nicked his forearm just enough to raise a thin line of blood to his white skin.

Her pulse pounded at Khisanth's temples as she held her enormous forearm to Maldeev's small white one. Their blood collided. The dragon was almost physically knocked back by the brutal assault to her senses brought on by the revelation of Maldeev's true feelings, true mind.

She saw hatred for all creatures, a desire to kill anything more powerful than he, revenge, betrayal, greed, naked ambition, and not one ounce of kinship with anything….

There was now no doubt in Khisanth's mind who had killed Jahet. Murdered Andor. She yanked her claw arm back to end the excruciating mingling.

The dragon's first reaction was to rip Maldeev apart and devour him before his men. Somehow, Kadagan's teachings penetrated her numb brain, bade her be calm, to think. The dragon despised the highlord, had not one whit of respect left for the human. She'd had more regard for the knight Tate than for this pitiful human who stood next to her, and she'd impaled Tate. Funny how she had so carefully kept herself from taking a rider. Now she was uniting with the most despicable human she had ever met.

The words of the Dark Queen came, unbidden, to mind. Trust no one. What you seek is a human worthy of your talents. Look in unexpected places. You will know him when the time comes.

Khisanth closed her eyes. She'd misread the signs, selected her rider in the most obvious of places. She thought of Tate, remembered her own comparison between him and Maldeev after she'd slain the knight. The dragon would not be so fool shy;ish as to misinterpret the queen's words again.

Khisanth became suddenly aware that Maldeev was star shy;ing at her with a strange, expectant look. The dragon made her decision.

"Maldeev and Khisanth shall not betray," she mumbled the traditional words, knowing as she did that Jahet had spo shy;ken them before her. The difference was that Khisanth knew what Jahet had not; the vow was a lie. The knowledge gave her immense power over Highlord Maldeev.

Khisanth allowed the ceremony to come to a close around her. All of this pomp and circumstance was symbolism for the enjoyment of humans, anyway.

After all, she was Khisanth, touched by the Dark Queen herself. Astinus would record the great deeds done by the magnificent black dragon in the name of Takhisis.

She had only to wait, and to watch her back.