Read Dragonlance 17 - Dragons Of A Vanished Moon Online
Authors: Margaret Weis
He should break off this conversation and go about his own urgent business, but he chose not to. The silver dragon had lived
long in the world. He did not believe in accidents. This chance meeting was no chance. The woman had been drawn to him out of compassion. He was touched by her sadness and pain.
They entered the Temple. He groped about with his hand, until he found what he sought.
"Stop here," he said.
"We have not reached the altar," said the woman. "What you touch is a sarcophagus. Only a little farther."
"I know," Mirror said, "but I would rather remain here. She was an old friend of mine, you see."
"Goldmoon?" The woman was startled, wary. "A friend of yours?"
"I came a long way to see her," he said.
Palin's voice whispered to him, soft and urgent. "Mirror, what are you doing? You cannot trust this woman. Her name is Odila. She was once a Solamnic Knight, but she has been consumed
by darkness."
"A few moments with her. That's all I ask," Mirror replied softly.
"You may take all the time you want with her, sir," said Odila, mistaking his words. "Although the time we have is short before Malys arrives."
"Do you believe in the One God?" Mirror asked.
"Yes," said Odila, defiantly. "Don't you?"
"I believe in Takhisis," said Mirror. "I revere her, but I do not serve her."
"How is that possible?" Odila demanded. "If you believe in Takhisis and revere her, it follows that you must serve her."
"My reply takes the form of a story. Were you with Goldmoon when she died?"
"No," Odila said. Her voice softened. "No one but Mina was with her."
"Yet there were witnesses. A wizard named Palin Majere saw and heard their conversation, during which Takhisis revealed her true nature to Goldmoon. That was a moment of triumph for Takhisis. Goldmoon had long been her bitter enemy. How sweet
it must have been for Takhisis to tell Goldmoon that it was she who gave Goldmoon the power of the heart, the power to heal and to build and to create. Takhisis told Goldmoon that this power of the heart stemmed not from the light but from the darkness.
Takhisis hoped to convince Goldmoon to follow her. The goddess promised Goldmoon life, youth, beauty. All in return for her service, her worship.
"Goldmoon refused to accept. She refused to worship the goddess who had brought such pain and sorrow to the world. Takhisis was angry. She inflicted on Goldmoon the burden of her years, made her old and feeble and near death. The goddess hoped Goldmoon would die in despair, knowing that Takhisis had won the battle, that she would be the 'one god' for now and forever. Goldmoon's dying words were a prayer."
"To Takhisis?" Odila faltered.
"To Paladine," said Mirror. "A prayer asking for his forgiveness
for having lost her faith, a prayer reaffirming her belief."
"But why did she pray to Paladine when she knew he could not answer?" Odila asked.
"Goldmoon did not pray for answers. She knew the answers. She had long carried the truth of his wisdom and his teachings in her soul. Thus, even though she might never again see Paladine or hear his voice or receive his blessings, he was with her, as he had always been. Goldmoon understood that Takhisis had lied. The good that Goldmoon had done came from her heart, and that good could never be claimed by darkness.
The miracles would always come from Paladine, because he had never left her. He was always with her, always a part of her."
"It is too late for me," said Odila, despairing. "I am beyond redemption. See? Feel this." Grasping his hand, she placed his fingers on her palm. "Scars. Fresh scars. Made by the blessed dragonlance. I am being punished."
"Who punishes you, Daughter?" Mirror asked gently. "Queen Takhisis? Or the truth that is in your heart?"
Odila had no answer.
Mirror sighed deeply, his own mind at ease. He had his answer. He knew now what he must do. "I am ready," he said to Palin.
19
Malys
Galdar and Mina flew together, though not side by side. The blue dragon, Razor, kept his distance from the death dragon. He would not come near the foul corpse, did nothing to hide his disgust. Gaidar feared that Mina might be offended by the Blue's reaction, but she did not seem to notice, and he came at last to realize that she saw nothing except the battle that lay ahead. All else, she had shut out of her mind.
As for Gaidar, even though he was certain that his own death lay ahead of him, he had never been so happy, never been so much at peace. He thought back to the days when he'd been a one-armed cripple, forced to lick the boots of such scum as his former talon leader, the late and unlamented Ernst Magit. Gaidar looked back along the path of time that had brought him to this proud moment, fighting alongside her, the one who had saved him from that bitter fate, the one who had restored his arm and, in so doing, restored his life. If he could give that life for her, to save her, that was all he cared about.
They flew high into the air, higher than Gaidar had ever flown on dragonback before. Fortunately, he was not one of those who are cursed with vertigo. He did not enjoy flying on dragonback—the minotaur has not been born who enjoys it— but he did not fear it. The two dragons soared above the peaks of the Lords of Doom. Gaidar looked down, fascinated, to see the fiery red innards of the mountains boiling and bubbling inside deep cavities of rock. The dragons flew in and out of the clouds of steam spewing from the mountains, keeping watch for Malys, hoping to see her first, hoping for the advantage
of surprise.
The surprise came, but it was on them. Gaidar and Mina and the dragons were keeping watch on the horizon when Mina gave a sudden shout and pointed downward. Malys had used the clouds herself to evade their watchfulness. She was almost directly below them and flying fast for Sanction.
Gaidar had seen red dragons before and been awed by their size and their might. The red dragons of Krynn were dwarf dragons, compared to Malystrx. Her massive head could have swallowed him and his Blue in one snap of the jaws. Her talons were large enough to uproot mountains, and sharp as the mountain peaks. Her tail could flatten those peaks, obliterate them, make of them piles of dust. He stared at the dragon in dry-mouthed wonder, his hand clutching the pike so that his fingers ached.
Gaidar had a sudden vision of the fire belching from Malys's belly, the dragonfire that could melt stone, consume flesh and bone in an instant, set the seas to boiling. He was about to order Razor to chase after her, but the dragon was an old campaigner and knew his business, probably better than Gaidar. Swift and silent, Razor folded his wings to his sides and dived down upon his foe.
The death dragon matched Razor's speed, then outdid him. Mina lowered her visor. Gaidar could not see her face, but he knew her so well that he had no need to. He could envision her: pale, fey. She and the death dragon were far ahead of him
now. Gaidar cursed and kicked at the Blue as if he were a horse, urging him to keep up. Razor did not feel the minotaur's
kicks, nor did he need any urging. He was not going to be left behind.
The dragon flew so fast that the stinging wind brought tears to Gaidar's eyes, forced his eyelids shut. Try as he might, he could not keep them open except for quick peeks now and then. Malys was a red blur through the tears that never had a chance to fall, for the wind whipped them away.
Razor did not slacken his speed. Despite the wind in Gaidar's eyes, this maddened flight was exhilarating, just as the first wild charge in battle was exhilarating. Gaidar gripped his pike, leveled it. The notion came to him that Razor meant to crash headlong into Malys, ram her as one ship rams another, and though that would mean Gaidar's death, he had no care about that, no care for himself at all. A strange calm came over him. He had no fear. He wanted to deal death, to kill this beast. Nothing else mattered.
He wondered if Mina, gripping the dragonlance, had the same idea. He envisioned the two of them, dying together in blood and in fire, and he was exalted.
Malystryx's target was Sanction. She had the city in sight. She could see its buglike inhabitants, who were just now starting
to feel the terror of her might. Malys did not fear attack from the air, for she never imagined that anyone—not even this Mina—would be so crazed as to fight her from dragon-back. Happening to glance up for no other reason than to enjoy the prospect of the bright blue sky, Malys was shocked to the depth of her soul to see two dragonriders plummeting down on her.
She was so startled that for a moment she doubted her senses. That moment almost proved to be her last, for her foes were on her with a suddenness that took away her breath. An instinctive, banking move saved her, carried her out of their path. The
attacking dragons were flying too fast to be able to halt. They sailed
past her and began to pull up, both of them circling around for another attack.
Malys kept her eye on them, but she did not immediately fly to annihilate them. She held back, wary, watchful, waiting to see what they would do next. No need to exert herself. She had only to wait until the dragonfear, which she knew how to wield better than any other dragon who had ever existed on Krynn, caused these pitiful, lesser dragons to blanch and break, turn tail and flee. Once they had their backs to her, then she would slay them.
Malys waited, watched in glee to see the blue dragon falter in his flight, while his minotaur rider cowered on his back. Certain those two were not a threat, Malys turned her attention to the other dragon and its rider. She was annoyed to note that the other dragon had not halted in its banking turn, but was coming straight for her. Malys suddenly understood why her fear did not work on this one. She had seen enough dragon corpses to recognize
one more.
So this One God could raise the dead. Malys was more irritated
than impressed, for now she would have to rethink her battle strategy. This creaking, worm-eaten, grotesque monstrosity could not be defeated by terror and would not succumb to pain. It was already dead, so how could she kill it? This was going to be more work than she'd anticipated.
"First you use the souls of the dead to rob me," Malys roared. "Now you bring a moldering, mummified relic to fight me. What do you and this small and desperate god of yours expect me to do? Scream? Faint? I have no fear of the living or the dead. I have fed upon both. And I will soon feed upon you!"
Malys watched her enemies carefully, trying to guess what they would do, even as she plotted her next attack. She discounted
the blue dragon. The creature was in a sad state. She could smell the reek of his dread and his rider was not much better. The rider of the dead dragon was different. Malys hovered before Mina, letting the human get a good look at the power of her foe. She could not possibly win. No god could save her.
Malys knew the impression she must make upon the human. The largest living being on all of Krynn, the red dragon was enormous, dwarfing all native dragons. A snap of Malys's massive
jaws could sever the spine of the mummy dragon. A single claw was as large as this human who dared to challenge her. Beyond that, Malys wielded a magical power that had raised up mountains.
She opened her jaws, let the molten fire drool from her mouth, pool around her sharp fangs. She flexed the claws that were stained brown with blood, claws that had once pierced the scales of a gold dragon and ripped out the still-beating heart. She twitched the huge tail that could crack a red dragon's skull or break its neck, sending it plummeting to the ground while its hapless rider could do nothing but scream to see obliteration rushing up at him.
Few mortals had ever been able to withstand the horror of Malys's coming, and it seemed that Mina could not. She froze on the back of the mummified beast. She tried to keep her head up, but the terror of what she saw seemed to crush her, for she drooped and shrank, then lowered her head as if she knew death was coming and could not bear to look at it.
Malys was pleased and relieved. Opening her mouth, she drew in a breath of air that would mix with the brimstone in her belly and be unleashed in a gout of flame, cremating what was left of the corpse dragon and turn this minion of the so-called One God into a living torch.
Mina did not lower her head in fear. She lowered her head in prayer, and her god did not abandon her. Mina raised her head, looked directly at Malys. In her hand she held the dragonlance.
Silver light shone from the lance, light as sharp as the lance itself. The stabbing light struck Malys full in the eyes, for she'd been staring straight at it. Momentarily blinded, she choked upon the flaming breath, swallowed most of it. Thwarted in her attack she blinked her eyes, tried to rid them of the dazzling light.
"For the One God!" Mina cried.
Gaidar knew they were finished. He hoped that they were finished. He longed for easeful death to end the fear that
dissolved his organs so that he was literally drowning in his own terror. Beneath him, he could feel Razor shivering, hear the clicking of his teeth and feel tremor after tremor shake the Blue's body.
Then Mina called upon Takhisis, and the goddess answered. The dragonlance flared like a bursting star. Silver light shot through Gaidar's darkness, channeled the fear into his muscles and his sinews and his brain. Razor let out a roar of defiance, and Gaidar lifted his voice to match.
Mina gestured with the lance, and Gaidar understood. They were not going to charge again, but would try another dive, attacking Malys from above. The red dragon, in her arrogance, had slowed her flight. They would wheel and attack her before she could recover.
The two dragons banked and began their dive. Malys gave one flap of her mighty wings, then another, and suddenly she was speeding straight at them with deadly intent. Her jaws gaped wide.
Razor anticipated the Red's attack. The Blue veered off, flipping
over backward to avoid the blast of flame that came so close it singed the scales on his belly.