The Legend of Huma

Chapter 31

The near-hypnotic Quality of the Dragonqueen’s call was broken by a familiar voice.

“Huma! Thank the gods! We were afraid you had fallen with the citadel!”

He turned in the saddle. Bennett and Kaz rode near him. Kaz quickly explained, “We sent the others to seek aid. Only, Sargas!—what is that?”

Bennett’s voice was drained of emotion. “It is the Dragonqueen, is it not?”

Huma only nodded. He stared up at the shadowy monstrosity above them. The portal through which the Dark Queen had come was expanding, and she seemed to be growing more solid, more real.

A thought struck the knight. He reached down to his side for the compacted staff of Magius and handed it to Bennett. “Take this back to Vingaard Keep. It must be turned over to the Conclave. As ruling mages, they’ll know what to do with it. It belonged to Magius, and I fear that it won’t be of much use to me anymore.”

Kaz and Bennett looked at one another.

Huma fixed each of them with a gaze. “It must be told that Dracos is no more. I also need you to organize the lancers. Bennett, you are the son of one Grand Master and the nephew of another. You were born to lead.

“I will draw the Dark Queen’s ire for as long as I can, but a mass attack remains our only true chance. There must be at least a hundred lances left. Then, Paladine willing, we will be able to count for something.”

Bennett shook his head. “Huma, this is a goddess! We are less than a single breath to her!”

“But we are Knights of Solamnia,” Huma responded, “a knighthood forged by the holy Triumvirate of which Paladine is senior. Our mission has been to keep the justice and see that evil never holds sway over Krynn. This is our ultimate test. This is where we truly test ourselves against the Oath and the Measure.”

The other knight could think of no response. Bennett’s face had reddened slightly.

“I have no time to argue. Return, Bennett. Kaz, go with him,” Huma said.

The minotaur looked down at his mount, then back at Huma. “I agree that one of us should return, and it is right that it be Bennett. But I will stay. I swore an oath, too, and I have not yet proved myself. And Bolt thinks as I do.”

Huma sighed. “Kaz, I cannot stop you. Bennett, do your duty.”

Bennett gritted his teeth, but nodded. At a signal, his silver dragon turned—but not before meeting the gaze of Gwyneth. Some message passed between them, and Huma remembered that here was kin of his own dragon. Parting was no easier for them.

When Bennett was gone, Huma turned to the minotaur. “Now.”

The two dragons rose higher and higher. Above them, Takhisis’s five-headed dragon form seemed to waver. The entire mountain, and even the heavens above, were being warped by a vast hole in the fabric of the sky itself. The gateway from which the Dragonqueen had materialized in this world. The portal through which she had drawn her absolute power with the help of the unlamented Galan Dracos. Her full power was cut off from her because Huma had shattered the emerald sphere, but the gateway remained. And Takhisis already had the power she had drawn earlier. Never in her invasions of the mortal plane had she ever been so strong.

Enchanting. Even more interesting than your constant need to argue with one another over hopeless causes.

The cold, cruel thoughts buffeted Huma’s mind.

I will have to gather a few such as you and study this amusing, transitory thing called love. It seems so . . . wasteful.

At least Huma had some satisfaction in that he knew Takhisis could never experience any of the emotions he felt. They would ever be a mystery to one such as her. In that, she was less than any mortal.

Teach me, then.

Though he knew her dragon form still perched atop the mountain, he also saw the graceful, enticing figure of a raven-haired enchantress, clad in the thinnest of dark silks. When she smiled, it was as if for the first time anyone had truly done so.

I could be whatever you desire me to be. You could show me this love you think so much of. I would be a very willing student.

In his mind, the seductive form turned to the side slightly, revealing new and provocative poses. Huma found it impossible to concentrate. She was beautiful beyond compare, and she was willing to learn what it meant to love, to be a mortal. If he could show her what it meant, then Krynn might never again have to know evil or suffering.

There was added—and it weighed heavily—the interesting aspects that would surely be involved in teaching her.

She smiled and seemed to hold out a slim, perfectly sculpted hand.

Huma felt a warmth on his chest. Involuntarily, he clutched at it. A familiar object seemed to fall into his hand.

“No!” he shouted on impulse. “I will not fall to your dark charms! You cannot ever know love or life and I want no part of you. My love is for another!”

He felt a jolt beneath him, as if Gwyneth had caught herself. He had no more time to think of her, because the Dragonqueen once again clutched his thoughts.

You might have known joy such as no man has ever known. You might have commanded my armies, for no warrior has proved more resourceful, more adaptable, and more determined than you. You could have been second only to me, and I would have rewarded you beyond your expectations.

A horrible wind rose up. The silver dragon was nearly swept against the mountainside, and Bolt and Kaz fell behind. Huma gripped the Dragonlance with one hand and fingered the medallion of Paladine with the other. With both of them, he was able to maintain hope.

Very well! You have rejected me. You have opened the doorway to your own destruction—and that of the one you love.

Unable to know love, the Dark Queen was all too familiar with hate.

“Huuummmaaa!”

The knight turned back briefly and saw Bolt being forced to land on a rocky ledge. Kaz was clutching the saddle, desperately.

This is between us now, oh, so mortal Knight of Solamnia! You will beg for forgiveness for all you have done! You will plead with me for an end to the agony, but it will not be until the end of eternity that I may even consider granting it.

Huma recalled the choice made by Galan Dracos: oblivion of body and soul rather than the tender “justice” of the Queen of Darkness. This from one who had no compassion, who had cruelly tortured Magius, and who had sent thousands to their needless deaths. In the end, there had been only fear for Dracos, fear at the thought of being at the mercy of his mistress.

First will I batter your physical form to jelly—but you will not die. Then I will take your mind and reveal to it the full dark beauty of my domain. Madness will not save you. I will not allow it. Then I will take your love and treat her to only the finest of my—entertainments—while you helplessly watch,

Huma had seen wonders and terrors that few men had faced, and only his belief in Paladine and the justice and good the god represented had saved him. Each time, that belief had strengthened him. Huma had come to love Krynn as much as Paladine, and he was willing to sacrifice all for the sake of the world if it meant the defeat of darkness.

Rather than urge Gwyneth back, Huma pressed her on.

The silver dragon obeyed. She would not abandon him.

You are fools. Bigger fools than Dracos, who believed he could become a god. His escape to oblivion saved him from my tender mercy. What will save you?

It was as if a curtain had suddenly been drawn away. The Dragonqueen stood watching, her beauty breathtaking and terrible at the same time.

Each head of the gigantic dragon mocked him. Five in all, and each one representing one of her children. Cunning and cruel green. Tenacious white. Powerfully destructive red. Unpredictable black. Dominating blue.

They swerved sinuously back and forth, as if weaving a hypnotic spell. Never did their eyes leave Huma. Never did a single head pause in its movements.

The Dark Queen was well over sixty feet of pure power. Each movement was grace and strength incarnate. In each movement, no matter how subtle, she revealed the foolishness of daring to forestall her will.

Now you see. Now you know.

The quick, tinier white dragon suddenly exhaled in his direction. Huma barely saw the cone of intense frost projected at him, but Gwyneth swerved easily and flew out of range.

The Dragon of Many Colors and of None—the ancient name came back to Huma—laughed scathingly. The attack had been no more than play to the goddess, as a cat plays with a mouse before eating it whole.

Wind continued to whip around, and the silver dragon veered perilously close to the side of the mountain. The heads of the Dragonqueen laughed in amusement.

There was a slight hesitation in the actions of the godly leviathan as Huma’s mind shifted. She also was mocking him no longer. The focus of each pair of eyes was more intense, as if she studied him anew. The massive wings spread in what Huma might have termed the anxiousness of a normal dragon.

Huma signaled to Gwyneth. She turned, gave herself plenty of space from the terrible form of the Dragonqueen, and turned to face the goddess. Huma’s hand steadied the Dragonlance. The five heads froze in position.

The knight signaled again.

The tempest unleashed by the Dragonqueen increased tenfold, forcing both Kaz and Bolt to seek safety at the innermost part of the ledge. They had only a brief glimpse as the silver dragon defied the ripping winds and the sudden torrential downpour, and continued forward with ever-increasing speed. Then knight and dragon vanished as they neared the top of the peak.

Kaz muttered a prayer to every god of Paladine’s house that his hazy memory could recall. He saved his last and longest for the Platinum Dragon—the god known to humans as Paladine.

Chilling frost. Quick, deadly lightning. A hissing stream of poisonous gas. Bright flame. Sputtering and splattering acid.

Each head unleashed its power against the two. Gwyneth turned and dodged, dodged and turned, then spiraled as she sought to escape one hideous attack after another. Sometimes even her skill was not enough. Acid burned a multitude of tiny holes in her wings. Flames singed her back. Huma maintained his grip on the Dragonlance despite all.

As yet, they had made no strike against the Dragonqueen. That she had not struck them down with all her powers was of vital interest. It meant that the Queen of Darkness had but a fragile hold on her increased strength. She was seeking to do much, spreading her power too thin, extending too many disparate spells.

Gwyneth unleashed a cone of frost at the green head of the goddess, who shook it off as one might shake a leaf.

Jaws snapped dangerously close. Huma glimpsed the head of a red dragon as Gwyneth flew out of reach.

When she turned toward the Dragonqueen one more time, Huma saw that the great creature was at last rising from the peak. No longer did the Dark Lady believe her victory assured. She was taking the battle to Huma, determined to prolong this fight no more than necessary.

Seen in the air, the Dragonqueen was at least ten times larger than the silver dragon. Her wingspan covered the sky. Each of her foreclaws could have taken the head of Huma’s companion and crushed it easily.

I am bored with games. You flutter like a butterfly.

The silver dragon started, and Huma realized that this was the fist time Takhisis had spoken to Gwyneth.

The black head of Takhisis shouted something in a magical tongue. Knight and dragon were suddenly plunged into darkness.

A roar.

Claws raked the air above Huma. The silver dragon dropped at the last instant. The Dragonlance still glowed, the only illumination in the sky.

Light? You cannot have light!

Even Huma had not noticed it at first, but it was true. The darkness became shadow, and the shadow became light again. Takhisis hovered, infuriated by the power of the Dragonlance.

Paladine cannot protect you forever!

“Huma” the silver dragon called to him, her breath painfully short, “I cannot evade her much longer.”

Huma touched the medallion hanging on the center of his chest. He nodded. “It is time we met her.”

Come to me, then. Meet my embrace.

“I offer you the same chance I gave to Galan Dracos, Dark Queen. I offer you the chance to surrender.”

You jest in the time of your destruction, mortal Huma. I find your humor interesting. I shall have an eternity to amuse myself.

Huma steadied the Dragonlance so that it pointed directly toward the center of the Dragonqueen’s great form.

“See if I am jesting. This is the power of Paladine. No mortal weapon can strike you down—but the Dragonlance is no mortal weapon.”

You are mortal, though, Knight of Solamnia.

Huma dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“I am a Knight of Solamnia. I am the hand of Paladine, of Kiri-Jolith, and of Habbakuk on this world. You are on Krynn. You are mine, Queen of Darkness.”

He kicked Gwyneth in the sides, and she burst forward with new energy. The Dragonlance shone brightly.

A strange thing happened.

It seemed to Huma that the armor he wore became brighter, felt different. To the look and touch it appeared as platinum. Gone were the dents and tears he had accumulated. His gauntleted hand seemed to glow with the same brilliance as the lance. He recalled then the vision he had had and the sculpture from which he had taken the first of the lances.

Below him, Gwyneth was also transformed. She was longer, sleeker, and far more beautiful. She was a gleaming white charger, a platinum dragon, a majestic kingfisher.

All he saw might have been illusion—but did the Dragonqueen see the same thing?

He could not be sure. Huma only knew that the huge chromatic beast hesitated again. This time, dragon met dragon. Claws and teeth struck out. The Dragonlance was only momentarily impeded. Huma braced himself for contact.

The Dragonqueen had not counted on her own momentum to such an extreme. Her body tipped forward and the Dragonlance suddenly found the unprotected neck of the centermost head.

Ichor splattered Huma. Some of it burned his injured leg, momentarily startling him from his almost trancelike state. Huma forced the thought of pain from his mind.

Takhisis shuddered uncontrollably as pain coursed through her.

Her scream literally shook the mountains and was heard over miles. Four heads turned blindly to the source of that pain. The fifth, the blue one, dangled awkwardly, useless now. Takhisis clawed wildly. In vain, she tried to pry the Dragonlance from its bind, but the silver dragon would not back off. The four remaining heads snapped at the silver dragon, at Gwyneth.

The Queen of Darkness had never felt pain before, Huma realized.

Takhisis clawed and bit at them in her agony. Huma signaled Gwyneth to retreat. To his horror, he discovered that the lance would not come loose. The silver dragon was beginning to bleed heavily, and Huma saw that she was covered with a vast number of ragged, dripping cuts. Her tattered wings flapped slowly and her breathing became more shallow.

The Dragonqueen continued screaming and her wings thrashed back and forth. The mounting for the Dragonlance bent considerably. Huma tried in vain to steady the lance. The back end of the weapon suddenly shot upward, striking him soundly in the side of the head. Huma fell back, dazed and bleeding.

He heard something snap.

With gargantuan effort, he pulled himself forward—and found only splinters remained of the mounting. Takhisis had stripped him of the lance.

Where was she?

“Hu—uma.”

“Gwyneth!” He leaned forward. She was breathing irregularly and each movement of her mouth dripped with blood.

“She—I—down there. I—cannot—”

Her wings froze in midmotion.

They began plummeting toward the mountainside. He screamed her name once before they hit. Then he felt his body thrown from the saddle, and all was night.

When he awoke, the world was red. Blood. Blood and pain. For hours, it seemed, he just lay there. His eyes were stinging red and his vision was bleary. All he could really see were shapes. The winds still howled.

There was nothing he could do about the pain. It coursed through his body. His wounded leg was numb.

With great effort, Huma raised himself to a sitting position.

Huma attempted to rise then, but he only fell over, face first, into the cool earth of the mountainside. His mind again blazed with pain.

He crawled now. He saw no sign of Gwyneth or the Dragonqueen. The knight managed to pull himself along, inch by inch.

As he struggled, something near the top of the mountain caught his attention.

A hand. A human hand.

He was not quite sure where the reserves of energy came from, but Huma succeeded in pulling himself up toward the figure lying near an outcropping.

“Gwyneth.”

She had shifted to her human form. The wounds that covered her natural form were no less terrible. One arm lay twisted beneath her. Her face was now as pale as her silvery hair. Her breath came in short, rasping shudders. Time and again, she twitched uncontrollably and small sounds of pain, akin to what an animal might make, escaped her cracked and bleeding lips. There were bleeding cuts and dark bruises all over her body. It was a marvel that she lived.

His mouth open in a soundless cry, Huma dragged himself to her side, ignoring his raw, bloody hands and the agony that jolted him continuously from within.

When he reached her, he finally noticed that, with her good arm, she clutched the footman’s Dragonlance as if it were life itself. Even as torn and battered as she was, Gwyneth had saved the smaller Dragonlance, knowing that it was the only weapon that could save them if the Dragonqueen returned.

He repeated Gwyneth’s name.

Something roared. Gwyneth’s eyes opened wide and she stared straight up.

“Huma?”

“Rest. Kaz or someone will come.”

“No!” Her eyes teared. “Takhisis! You mustn’t let her go free!”

The knight looked up. Something thrashed beyond the rise. Something huge and in terrible pain. The roar came again.

“She—” Gwyneth coughed up blood. “Sooner or later, she will overcome the Dragonlance. You have to do—do something before she does.”

“What can I do?” Huma could barely prop himself up.

“Take this.” She indicated the smaller Dragonlance. “I—I managed to save it.” Gwyneth suddenly clutched at him. “Are you hurt badly? Let me help you!”

“Forget me. Forget the Dragonqueen. What is happening to you? Why are you human? Are you healing yourself?”

“It—it doesn’t matter. The fall only—hastened the damage. I only thank Paladine that y—you are still alive.”

“Don’t talk anymore.”

She couldn’t be dying, Huma thought in horror.

I—I can save her, mortal!

The wind suddenly seemed frigid. Huma stood silently as the words sank in. How? he thought.

Sh—sh—the pain! She is not beyond me yet! Release me fro—from this agony and I will gladly restore you both! I swear it by—by the beyond! I swear it, highgod!

Huma looked down to see Gwyneth looking up at him intently. Her breathing was faint.

“What is it?”

“She offers us—you—life.”

“In return for what?”

He hesitated. “Her release.”

“Hu—” Gwyneth coughed uncontrollably. She closed her eyes. For a moment, the knight was afraid she was gone. She opened her eyes again, though, and fixed her gaze on him. “You cannot kill her—that is not possible. But you cannot release her, either. All Krynn will suffer for her torment. My life is not—not worth that.” She paused. The strain of speaking was using up what little strength she had left.

Huma draped her with his body so that the harsh wind did not strike her full force. “I won’t let you die.”

“You don’t have any choice.” She smiled faintly.

“You can’t,” Huma stammered, then finally spoke the words he had long ago admitted to himself. “I love you. I am ashamed I could not say it before. I will not lose you.”

Her face became radiant despite the fearsome wounds.

“I want—want—you to remember me as I am now—now, for this is truly me. I first truly lived as a human.” She took a deep breath. “I loved as a human.”

Her hand slipped from him. “I will die as a human—knowing at last that you—” Gwyneth closed her eyes as pain wracked her. Huma held her as she quivered. “—you—”

The shaking subsided. The knight loosened his hold. Gwyneth’s eyes were closed and in her deathly visage there was now an odd serenity.

“Gwyneth?”

Moortaal! It isss not too late!

Huma lowered her head.

A tail flickered briefly in sight and then vanished again behind the rise. The sky was dark once more. The portal, Takhisis’s gateway to and from the Abyss, had dwindled to a mere shadow of its former sinister majesty—yet it was still there.

Seizing hold of the Dragonlance, Huma began to drag himself toward the rise. His actions were involuntary; his mind contained only vague thoughts about what might have been. He no longer existed in the present. He was not even aware that he had reached the rise until he found himself looking at the Dragonqueen.

She lay some distance below in a crater shaped by her fall.

Huma lay there for a long time. Breath came hard to him now, and he realized that his ribs must be broken. The scene faded in and out, again and again.

Somehow, he managed to pull the Dragonlance up to the top of the ridge and force it over, point first. The chill wind no longer bothered him. It only served to clear his mind for the purpose at hand.

What—are you doing?

The Dragonqueen’s thoughts suddenly flickered into his head. He was so startled, he nearly dropped the lance over the side. Pulling it back, he used it to bring himself to a wobbly standing position.

The Dragonlance readied like a spear, Huma stared down at the thrashing goddess.

She lay on her back, her wings folded awkwardly behind her. The four remaining heads snapped wildly at the severed Dragonlance still embedded in her form. The weapon sparked each time the heads came near, and again and again they pulled away in pain.

“Hear me,” said Huma.

... At first, there was only the thrashing and the horrible cries of pain and fury. “Hear me,” he repeated.

Mortal. . . what is it you want?

The huge dragon attempted to rise. And failed.

“You are beaten, Takhisis, Dragonqueen.”

I am not! I cannot be!

“Your armies are being routed. Your renegades are dead or scattered. The Conclave will hunt them down. Such will be watched more closely in the future. There will never again be another Galan Dracos.”

More time passed. The Dragonqueen was visibly struggling for control.

What do you want, mortal?

“The balance must be maintained. Without good, evil cannot grow. Without evil, good stagnates. I know I cannot kill you.”

Release me, then!

Huma stumbled back at the intensity of the moment. The Dragonlance almost slipped from his grasp. “First, you must surrender.”

The wind had ceased. The sky was strangely clear, bun-light warmed Huma’s body. The portal was nearly nonexistent. The form of the Dragonqueen had become very still. She almost seemed-dead. Huma pulled the lance away from the edge and leaned over.

A dragon’s head, emerald green, shot up. Huma pulled back too late.

A thick, hissing stream of noxious, green gas shot forth enveloping him before he could even think. He fell forward and this time his grip on the lance loosened completely. It clattered down the ridge. The hapless knight also fell, toward the Dragonqueen.

He screamed with each bounce against the rock-strewn side of the crater.

If he had been in pain before, now he learned the meaning of agony. He screamed and screamed, but he did not die.

You still live! What does it take to kill you? You are only mortal!

Despite the pain, then, he laughed.

“I belong to Paladine. I belong to Gwyneth. Neither will ever let you have me.”

Huma pulled himself upward. He coughed and his hands shook. He had inhaled too much of the gas. The fall had wracked his body and it was all Huma could do to keep himself sitting up, so violently did his head swim. He knew that despite his words, he did not have much time left.

“They are coming, Takhisis.”

Who?

“The other Dragonlances. More than a hundred. A hundred times the pain and agony. I offered you a chance. They will not be so willing. You know that.”

They cannot kill me!

“They can give you eternal suffering.”

They cannot! The balance! You spoke of it!

“What do they care about the balance? So much better to have peace; that is what they will say.”

A long pause. Huma started to close his eyes, then fought to open them yet one more time.

“You will never free yourself before they arrive. Even if I die, they will still have you. A goddess at the mercy of mortals.”

What do you want?

It was evidently a strain for her to continue. Only one head still stared in Huma’s direction. The other three wavered uncontrollably.

“Withdraw from Krynn.”

I -

“Withdraw now!”

Very well.

“Withdraw your dragons as well. Never again must they come to Krynn. Take them with you.”

A long pause.

“Swear to it,” he added.

She hesitated.

I do.

“I want to hear you swear by that you hold most holy.”

Both witnessed the single dragon flying overhead and heard the call of its rider, a voice familiar to Huma.

Kaz. His voice was shaky and the dragon was visibly weary, but they circled above, ready to close.

“Your time is short, Queen.”

I swear that I shall withdr—withdraw—she writhed in pain and for one moment Huma thought he might be crushed beneath her form—withdraw from Krynn along with my children for so long as the world is whole. So do I swear by—

She said it. By the beyond. By the highgod.

Bolt had landed nearby, vigilant. Kaz, disregarding the looming presence of the foul Dragonqueen, raced to Huma’s side.

“You’ve won! You’ve defeated her!” Kaz stopped abruptly, and his expression became serious. “As I am your witness, Huma. I—I will remember as I remember my ancestors.”

Huma silenced him with a look. “Kaz, you must pull the Dragonlance from her body.”

“What?” Kaz rose and stared at Huma as if the knight was bereft of his senses. “Release her? She will wreak havoc all over! We will die—if we are lucky!”

Huma shook his head, “No. She. Swore. I can—promise you that she will—” He wanted to shut his eyes. “—she will depart.”

“I cannot!”

“Kaz.” Huma grimaced. “I promised her. It—it is a question of my honor. You understand honor. We say—say ‘Est Sularis Oth Mithas’ in the old tongue. ‘My Honor is My Life.’”

The minotaur looked from the knight to the goddess, silent now, shuddering with pain.

“Hurry. The lance. My honor. The others—they won’t let you.”

Reluctantly, the minotaur moved. “My honor—” he said, half to himself, his eyes riveted on the task, “—is my life.”

The heads of the Dragonqueen swerved his way, but only one, treacherous green, remained fixed on Kaz. The others merely weaved back and forth, as if all control had been lost.

The lance was lodged deeply at the base of the neck of the blue head. With great distaste and more than a little trepidation, Kaz climbed atop Takhisis, the Dark Queen.

The green dragon head eyed him intently.

In an act of mad bravado, the huge warrior snorted with disdain. He flinched when it looked as if the head were about to strike, but then the head turned to gaze grimly at the source of the Queen’s agony.

“Gods,” muttered Kaz, then clamped his mouth shut when he thought about the oath. He had reached the Dragonlance. Getting a solid grip on it, the minotaur heaved.

The Dragonlance slid free without the slightest resistance. Kaz lost his footing and went tumbling off the gargantuan form, the lance still in his hands.

A horrible, mind-numbing laugh filled the air.

Kaz came to a stop, turned over, and stared—up.

She was there in all her infernal glory. Wings spread, enveloping the sky. All five heads looked up to the heavens and laughed. The pain, the wounds—it was as if they had never been.

Five terrible dragon heads looked down at the helpless and battered knight, then at the minotaur who had freed her. Each draconian visage wore a malevolent smile.

The sky burst into flames and Kaz was forced to cover his eyes.

When he opened them again, the sky was clear of clouds, and the sun—the long forgotten sun—was shining majestically—triumphantly.

The sun gleamed brightly now. Huma no longer felt cold, though he did not really feel warm, either. Sleepy. That was how he felt.

He discovered the medallion from Lord Avondale in his open hand. Paladine’s face shone brilliantly in the sunlight. The glare was too much. Huma closed his eyes. He could not close his grip on the talisman. That was all right. When the sun began to shift, he would like to look at it again.

His thoughts turned to Gwyneth and what they would do, now that the war was over at last.