The Dragons

Chapter 24

2693 PC

The golden patriarch appeared in the grotto, just above the nest. With a flap of his vast wings, he settled to the ground as the younger wyrms stirred and hissed in shock at his sudden appearance. Wings buzzing, the throng of metal wyrms faced their sire. The agitation quickly settled as the nestmates recognized Aurica

n.

“Quickly, take wing, my wyrmlings! You have very little time!” declared the venerable gold, the urgency in his voice piercing any vestige of normalcy held by the younger serpents. Looking around, Auri saw that all the nestmates had gathered. Even Brunt was here, smelling of fish and brine.

“But why, sire?” demanded Auricus, trying to speak calmly. “And where do you command us to go?”

“The dragons of the Dark Queen are coming. Crematia is dead, but she has a scion, called Deathfyre, every bit as wicked as herself. And he’s learned of the grotto!” His eyes fell upon Tharn, who hissed and glared about, ready to fight. The gold dragon said nothing about what he had overheard, though he felt certain Deathfyre had somehow discovered Tharn’s lair and then followed the hot-tempered copper to the grotto beneath the High Kharolis. Yet there was neither time nor purpose for recriminations. They had to move.

“They will be here as soon as they can gather and teleport. As to where, you must divide into your clans. Callak, you take the silvers; Auricus, you lead the golds. Tharn, Dazzall, Brunt-you take charge of leading your siblings to safety.”

Agon flapped his wings loudly, rearing onto the withered stumps of his rear legs, the limbs that had been wrinkled and twisted since his birth. “Should we not fight them, Grandfather?” he demanded.

Aurican sighed, wishing he had time to explain. He shook his head, regretful but firm. “There are too many of them. You must take wing. Our only hope lies in the future-and then only if you can escape.”

“We go!” cried Callak, sensing the urgency. He pounced to the nest and reached out with a foreclaw to lift the silver chain of the ram’s horn, allowing the precious artifact to slide over his neck. Agon, Arjen, Daria, and the other silvers padded after, ready to follow their brother from the grotto.

The wyrms of the brown metals, too, as well as Auricus and his golden nestmates, also buzzed wings, surging in agitation. Only Aurican looked back with a momentary pang of regret, knowing that they departed a place that had been hallowed by the metal dragons for ages. It was an ignominious departure, and his throat tightened with rage and frustration as he considered, only for a moment, how much he wanted to remain here, to fight the chromatic dragons for this place.

But these wyrmlings were still too young. They would be doomed in any fight with the mighty serpents of Takhisis. Such foolish sentimentality was more fitting for a human or elf, creatures with the emotional vulnerability to know love. He wondered for a dazed instant: Could the two-legs, those creatures who spoke so enthusiastically of love, learn to love a place? Was such a thing even possible? With cold reality driving the moment of reflection from his mind, he reared above the brood and glared sternly about.

“I will lead the way. If I must fight, I will, but the rest of you are to flee with all haste. Leave me, if you must, but escape. This is my command, and the command of your Platinum Father as well.”

The wyrmlings took wing, buzzing through the air behind Aurican as he flew from the door cave into the vast chamber of the underground lake. There was no sign of the enemy here, but this didn’t surprise him. From the words he had overheard, he suspected Deathfyre had discovered the cave leading from the Valley of Paladine, but doubted that he had risked coming in this far. It seemed likely that, if he had, one of the nestlings would have noticed the intrusion.

With this thought, he wheeled into a tight spiral, whirling through the darkness above the great subterranean lake. A thousand thoughts tumbled through his mind as he sensed that this was the last lesson he would ever bestow upon the young wyrmlings.

“Make your lairs far from here, in secret places,” he told them. “Be true to each other, for you are the strongest allies your nestmates will ever have. When you have eggs, guard them with the last breath of your lives! And know that each of you is strong, strong in his own way. Find those ways, my children, and survive!”

He was about to dive toward the exit cave when Auricus pulled him up with a word. “Sire, can we not prepare for this battle with spells?”

“Yes!” he agreed, chagrined at his own impetuous speed. “But not for battle but for escape.” Aurican spiraled tightly, thinking. “Those of you who have learned the haste spell, cast it upon yourselves.”

He knew this would allow most of the golds and silvers to fly with great speed. The patriarch cast his own spells of haste on Dazzall and Krayn, giving the two largest brass wyrmlings the advantage of magical swiftness.

“I will cast mine upon Tharn,” little Agon said, startling the copper with the abrupt enchantment, then turning to face Aurican’s scowl. “Should we not see that two of each color, a male and female, have the best chance to escape?”

“And my spell goes to Horim!” Arjen agreed, enchanting the copper female before she knew what was happening.

“A good thought, my brave wyrmling,” Aurican agreed, powerfully moved by the crippled silver’s sacrifice. Brunt and Dwyll, the largest male and female bronzes, were also enchanted with the spell of speed. “Now fly to the Valley of Paladine and beyond!”

In moments, Aurican burst out of the entry tunnel in a golden explosion of speed. The sun blazed in a cloudless sky, and the shimmering brightness of daylight seemed an incongruous contrast to the darkness in his heart, the grief and shame that would be the legacy of their flight.

And there was Deathfyre, poised above the entry, already sweeping into a reckless dive. Two crimson females flew close at his sides. Other flecks of color appeared in the sky, widely scattered over the High Kharolis, and Aurican immediately understood the reason: Only the trio of reds had been able to teleport with accuracy, since the other serpents had formed their destination based only on Deathfyre’s descriptions. Still, a pair of blues plunged swiftly toward the valley, and more spots of color appeared in the near distance.

Aurican’s mouth gaped wide and fire spewed forth. The three reds flew through the flames, breathing infernos of their own. Golden claws reached out, tearing a crimson wing, and one of the females shrilled a cry of pain and fury. Aurican felt talons rending his own flank and knew that Deathfyre had whirled around to attack from behind. The mighty gold flipped and twisted, slashing down at the other female but unable to reach the tenacious foe clinging to his back.

“Get the rest!” cried Deathfyre, in a shrill tone of command, and Aurican knew that his nestlings had flown into view. “Kill them all!”

“Fly, my wyrmlings, for the Platinum Father. Escape and live to gain vengeance!” Aurican roared.

Then there was a shape of black wings, like a monstrous, snake-limbed bat, poised before him, and a blast of acid seared the golden scales of Aurican’s chest. He groaned, an involuntary explosion of pain, and then felt his body pummeled by another smashing blow. Dazed, he wheeled in the sky, vaguely surprised by the sudden silence that seemed to have descended. He felt no pain, merely a gentle serenity. Only when the scent of ozone stung his nostrils did he realize he had been struck by the lightning of a mighty blue.

Frost and fire blossomed around him, and the serpent writhed in renewed efforts to escape, to fight. His fiery breath seared a black, but more lightning hissed into his flanks, ripping away his wings, gouging deep into his ancient flesh. A cloud of noxious gas swirled as a green dragon dived past, and Aurican’s desperate thrash tore at an emerald-colored wing, shredding the membrane and sending the wyrm spiraling into a doomed descent. Once more he breathed, the great fireball engulfing several blues and a screaming white.

But then more power, another barrage of deadly dragonbreath came together with lightning and fire and cold. For a moment, Aurican’s struggling body was lost in a cloud of murky sky.

And then that murk closed in, darkening his vision, finally seeping through the pain to draw a final curtain across his life.