The Dragons

Chapter 41

352 AC

The ghastly fortress rose from murk and shadow, shrouded by dark fog, a twisted monument to the Queen of Darkness thrusting high into the war-torn skies of Ansalon. Tombfyre, bearing the grimly silent Ariakas, flew onward through turgid air, watching the grotesque shape emerge into clearer view. The red dragon seethed with fury and resentment.

“Find your strongest enemy and kill him!” This ancient dictum, the command of Crematia and Deathfyre through the ages, rang through his mind, demanding that he turn back and fight. And yet his rider, his “master,” had ordered him to flee from the battle.

“You will land there, in front of the temple,” declared the Emperor of Ansalon flatly.

Without reply, Tombfyre dived, scrutinizing the awful edifice. At one time-and in another place-this might have been a grand temple, with sweeping balustrades connecting a ring of supporting towers to the vast central monolith. High walls encircled a broad courtyard, and many balconies, bridges, and ramparts marked the interior surfaces. Yet some of the outer towers leaned chaotically beyond the fortress wall, and the central pillar itself rose more like a diseased and warped trunk of cypress than a construct of stone and mortar.

Chromatic dragons of all five colors wheeled and spiraled in the skies over the queen’s fortress, and Tombfyre suppressed a bitter urge to rebuke them. Where were they when battle was raging in the skies over Vingaard? Victory had been within their grasp, he deluded himself. Surely another score or two of dragons would have given them the supremacy they deserved!

With the memories of the battle, the red serpent felt the bitterness of his flight and knew that this fortress was not where he chose to go. His place was in the skies, battling the serpents of Paladine-and, especially, defeating the ancient silver dragon, descendant of those who had thwarted his clan for so long.

“Land!” repeated Ariakas. “And then I desire that you wait for me.”

Tombfyre growled his resentment, the sound a dull rumble of rage that Ariakas certainly felt through the stiff leather of his saddle.

“You must obey!”

The Highlord’s voice was as taut as a bowstring, giddy and terrified at the same time. Anticipation tried unsuccessfully to dominate his fear, and the result was halfway between a plaintive plea and an arrogant command.

“No! I must fight! I must destroy the silver dragon!” roared Tombfyre, snorting a cloud of fiery smoke in frustration. “He is the heir of the wyrm who slew Deathfyre, and it is my destiny to kill him!”

“Your destiny was set out by me when I freed you from your tomb so deep beneath the Khalkists!” snarled the Highlord. “Would you have had me leave you there to rot?”

“If you had left me there, you would still be there as well, for it was my wings that bore us both to the surface of the world!” growled Tombfyre.

“You will obey me,” Ariakas declared grimly, and Tombfyre admitted to a grudging respect. Certainly no other creature in the world would dare to speak to him like this.

And what Ariakas said, for the most part, was true. Tombfyre’s destiny had been laid clearly by the Dark Queen, and he was bidden to bear this Dragon Highlord where he would go. Bitterly Tombfyre followed his rider’s instruction, winging toward the monstrous, twisted shape that now seemed to rise higher than ever into the sky. He felt an immortal presence behind that grim structure, knew that Takhisis herself was again drawing near Krynn, seeking the portal through which she could enter and gain mastery over the world.

“Your vengeance can wait,” Ariakas snapped, as if reading the red dragon’s mind. “Our mistress-your queen and mine, should I need to remind you-will pass through the Foundation Stone gate tonight. Would you not be in attendance?”

Ariakas had regained his composure, and now his voice was as cold and arrogant as it was when he was sentencing some wretched prisoner to torture or execution.

Tombfyre glowered into the gathering darkness, declining to voice an answer, for in truth, this was a time when the will of his mistress was but a faint and secondary compulsion compared to the hatred that drove him to take wing against the ancient silver. He thought of victories won and disasters suffered during millennia of strife between the two forces of dragonkind. Certainly all that history had been meant to lead to this dramatic resolution… now, here, tonight!

Of course, he knew of other tales, legends, and predictions. If the prophets were true and the alignment of the Foundation Stone properly established, than Ariakas was right: Takhisis herself would pass from the Abyss to Krynn on this bleak eve. The pieces of her mighty spell were in place, and though her armies had suffered setbacks on the fields of battle, the opening of her mighty gate would allow the Queen of Darkness herself to rule upon this world that was her destined plaything.

And Tombfyre’s greatness would again be eclipsed, as it had been during the reign of Deathfyre, was now by his human lord. His mistress would be here as well, and she would command the troops of the army. Ansalon would be her empire, and Tombfyre would have yet another master upon Krynn.

“Do you hear me? She comes! ” The Highlord’s voice was increasingly shrill, as if he sensed his mount’s growing reluctance.

“If the queen passes her gate, then she will summon me at her pleasure,” Tombfyre declared, tucking his wings and slicing a downward course through the air. He glided with serene grace toward the massive clearing before the twisted, deformed edifice that was the Temple of Neraka. In grim silence, he landed and waited for more arguments from the human emperor. But Ariakas made no sound. He merely slid to the ground and turned his back upon the mighty dragon.

After the Highlord had started toward the gates of the Dark Queen’s fortress, Tombfyre once again took to the air. His eyes remained fixed upon the Khalkists, where his clan had reigned for thousands of years.

The silver dragons, gloating from their victory in the skies over Vingaard, would be gathering there, he knew. And certainly there he would find the mighty Lectral.

And Tombfyre would find his destiny as well.