Krynn, Ansalon, city of Sanction, Temple of Luerkhisis
Altar room
Firstsummer 8th, 2461 EY or Fifthmonth 24th, 357 AC
Gagangis lifted Anna from the warm stone floor. Around them, chants went up from all of the guards.
Ropes securely bound her hands behind her back, and another length of rope hobbled her at the ankles. She could not move much of her own volition, but Gagangis helped her toward the altar at the back of the room, murmuring chants of praise to his god all the while.
She glared through the gloom at it and the huge idol behind it. Bitterness clutched her heart more than fear, for she wasn't afraid to die. Instead, she felt bitter that she was about to be sacrificed to some god that she'd never even heard of.
Moreover, after she had fought off every attempt to ravage her while she'd been imprisoned, being killed seemed unjust.
She looked closely at the idol. He or she or it wasn't a Krynnish god, she knew that for sure from Fing's descriptions of Krynn's powerful and distinctive deities. It did not look like any god she knew, in any crystal shell, though Tyfelian or Kiran or any of the others left behind on the Elnamerrna would have recognized it. It depicted the Abyssal Lord they had encountered on the dead moon, with great detail.
Gagangis got her to the altar. With her hands tied behind her back and her ankles hobbled, she could not lie down on it herself, but the chief guard lifted her—she noted that he handled her relatively gently—and put her down on the slab.
A dark cleric stood behind the slab. He drew forth a crystal dagger from his robes and began to chant—until then, he had been the only one in the room keeping silent, except for Anna and the other twenty meant for sacrifice. Anna could not see his face—he had pulled the crystal dagger in such a swift, fluid motion that his hood had barely moved.
The dagger had been sharpened keenly—it was so very sharp that Anna knew it would kill her fast, and as painlessly as being stabbed through the heart ever got. Evidently, Gagangis had found it in his own evil heart to honor their agreement.
Beyond her bare, tied-up feet, Anna could see the dragon—the same one who had killed the griffon she and Alroloc had been riding. She felt puzzled by his color—she had not been able to see very well in Solinari's light, but she hadn't thought he had been a white one.
The dragon watched every move by both Anna and the evil cleric with intense interest. He said nothing, though—just sat there looking.
Anna again felt puzzled by the absence of dragonfear. Since white dragons were evil, and she was not, she should have been terrified by the dragon's aura, but she felt nothing of the sort. She had not felt the dragonfear of the wyrm that had captured her, either, if it had not been the same one—except when she had actually been in contact with him.
Beyond him, Anna saw a very large, jagged hole in the eastern wall. It led to outdoors—Anna could faintly smell somewhat fresh air from outside, tainted with the reek of heated rock from Sanction's lava. The bulk of the dragon's body filled a good portion of the opening, though—she could not see his tail at all.
Whatever the strange effect of the alien artifact was that eliminated language barriers, it seemed still in effect, for she could understand the cleric's pre-sacrifice chant. She ignored it, however, and prayed hard to Mishakal for a last-second rescue.
"Goddess of healing, send my Fearless Leader through that door," she called silently as the dark cleric finished his chant and raised the crystal dagger to make the sacrifice.
Tyfelian and company burst into the room.
"Stop!" he screamed at the dark cleric, not a request.
Too late. The cleric's dagger slammed down toward Anna's heart as the dragon turned to face the invaders with an evil hiss.
Tyfelian's hand whirred with a speed borne of desperation and his own metal dagger shot across the altar chamber. His aim was true. The crystal dagger shattered and only the hilt struck Anna's chest. She winced, but she was more startled than hurt.
Tyfelian's flying dagger hit the cleric, but it had lost a lot of speed by destroying the instrument of sacrifice. It got tangled up in his robes, dealing no real damage, but the strike infuriated the dark cleric immeasurably.
"INFIDEL!" the cleric roared. "You will die this day!"
"Attack!" the half-drow shouted.
The precision attacks of spells that spat energy arrows led the Elnamerrna fighters into the altar room. Tyfelian ran toward the dark cleric, but four guards stepped up in his way, dragging four helpless hostages, daggers to necks.
Gagangis came up behind them. He thought about using Anna as a living shield, but then decided to choose another. He grabbed a captive Elnamerrna crewman at random and stepped forward to reinforce the dark cleric's threat.
"Stop right where you are," the dark cleric intoned, looking with pleasure at the guards with their hostages, "or your people are dead."
"They're dead anyway, and so are the rest of us," Tyfelian shot back, stopping in his tracks but still ready to run, "if you have your way." He glanced at the altar to indicate his exact meaning.
Aside from that momentary glance, the half-drow didn't even wait for a reply, just resumed his run. Fast and deadly, he shoved Autumn and Kerliak out of the way with his wrists and his swords rang a deafening song of blade on blade with two guards.
The remaining crew, led by Kiran and Sildara, crashed into the guards at the same time. The guards were outnumbered, but they fought with fanatical zeal. Even Gagangis roared and cursed as he charged the intruders.
Gagangis whipped out his sword and raised his shield. He moved away from his position right beside the altar and his blade parried the first strike from Abt's axe.
The human quickly found out what 'advanced training' meant, for Abt expertly clipped the sword with the head of his axe, while the butt of the axe thumped with deceptive gentleness into the shield. Both were knocked far out of position.
Abt whirled the axe right over and Gagangis had to quickstep backward, lest the minotaur decapitate him. Gagangis ran out of room fast—the altar, with Anna still lying on it, was not far behind him, despite the fact that he had charged. Once Abt had driven him back against it, he was fighting for his life against the minotaur.
Undaunted, he went after Abt with the frenzy of a berserker, hacking and stabbing impotently, but he was unable to get a strike through to the superior fighter. Abt was far too skilled for him and he had no chance.
The Elnamerrna wizards hurled various spells at the dragon, with varying effects. Tash looked at the dragon curiously as she struck him with a spell which created a small, mobile globe of fire. The dragon flinched and moved to escape when the crackling, magical flame rolled against his back left foot and his tail, but Tash felt almost certain that it was an act. In the smothering darkness, she could not see the damage, if any, done by the hissing globe, but she didn't think the dragon had actually been hurt.
Tash knew that dragons were tough cookies and had resistance to magic—she had already seen some of the spells cast by the other wizards, and even one of her own, dissipate against the creature's scales harmlessly—but she found it hard to believe that his resistance would hold up to her twice.
Tyfelian killed the guards who had held Autumn and Kerliak, then charged Gagangis at the altar and helped Abt finish him. The wild man had completely stopped defending, disregarding his own safety, and had mounted an all-out attack.
He actually slipped through Abt's defenses a little, despite the grievous axe hits his opponent had inflicted. Abt had taken some wounds when Tyfelian got there, but the half-drow's swords ripped the evil human apart from the side, so fast that Gagangis had no chance to even scream.
Across the chamber, the rest of the Elnamerrna crew fared similarly. They were mowing down the guards, who could not match the prowess of fighters trained by Tyfelian and Kiran.
They did not try to flee or surrender, however. They stood and fought, even after they had realized that they could not win.
Keenly aware of the danger from the dragon—though his wizards had already been making strikes at the wyrm with their spells—Tyfelian turned to attack it.
Then the dragon breathed.
Tyfelian winced, not with pain, but with shock, as the dragon's blazing breath rolled over both the Elnamerrna crew and the enemy guards. Already beaten and battered by the invaders, most of the remaining guards died screaming in the conflagration. Better trained and more experienced, the Elnamerrna crewmen rolled clear and suffered some burns, nothing more.
Only the enemy guards standing right in front of the altar remained unaffected, as they stood outside the flaming danger area. Even they got scorched, however, as the canny dragon turned his head to and fro while his breath burned.
Tyfelian pushed past them and leaped onto the altar—on top of the helpless Anna. He protected her, using his body to shield her from the flames as the Dridercomp protected him.
Melanerra and Fing, however, who had moved up in the line of battle and were helping the wounded, suffered a direct hit and their screams rang in Tyfelian's ears keenly. Tash and Trula—one casting high-damage spells on the dragon, the other guarding the blond drow while throwing daggers at the cleric and the guards—also stood nearby. With the one in a spellcasting trance and the other distracted, they both took a full blast.
Trula's form blurred with speed as she cartwheeled to avoid the breath. She ended up behind Tash, close to the eastern wall, but there was nowhere to go to escape the danger fully, as she could have done on open ground. Worse, she and Tash had no particular magical defenses against fire in place, so even the archmage received severe burns and her clothes went up in blazes.
"Fire?!" Tyfelian thought frantically, even as he noticed the dark cleric move away from where he'd pressed himself against the idol. Without a conscious thought, the half-drow drew a dagger and threw it sideways to make the cleric think twice, but his heart went as cold as the dragon's breath was hot.
Fire! The defensive magic cast by his wizards and clerics was totally useless!
He leaped off the altar and whirled into a dizzying attack against the guards standing there, who he had nearly beaten, but he looked at the dragon frantically.
"Tricked again!" he thought with a groan. He had figured it out even before he looked—an illusionary appearance had dropped from the great creature.
The dragon was no white dragon...
"Gold dragon!" Trula shouted.
... which only confused Tyfelian even more.
"Charmed?" he wondered aloud.
The gold dragon's sharp ears caught that and he looked over at the half-drow with a feral laugh, showing his massive fangs for all to see.
"Not charmed! I'm not a gold dragon, you stupid sunburned elf!" the dragon roared. "And I'm going to eat every last one of you!"
The dragon licked his lips hungrily.
Tyfelian leaped forward and finished off the guards with quick, furious whacks of his sword. The dark cleric ran around the altar, but Tyfelian sensed him coming and his foot flew backward. Even without looking, he kicked the dark cleric in the belly—hard. As the man doubled over in pain, Tyfelian sheathed the sword in his right hand, grabbed the cleric by his hood and slammed his face into the altar—all so fast that it seemed to be one dashing movement.
He never took his eyes off the dragon's reptilian gaze.
"No chance on Krynn," he said to the dragon.
The half-drow rammed his other sword through the cleric's skull and ran to the dragon—under the dragon, drawing his right-hand sword once more. His magically-enhanced blades scored vicious, bloody swaths into the huge reptile, slashing right through his scaly hide into the belly, but it only seemed to make the dragon angrier.
Then the wyrm had to think twice as more swords joined in to help the "stupid sunburned elf." Eight crewmen swarmed the dragon and the assault from ten blades began to seriously hurt.
Kiran finished an opponent, then moved to join Tyfelian in attacking the dragon, but a flurry of movement from behind the creature caught his attention.
A score of draconians—they had to be!—ran into the chamber from the ragged opening in the western wall. The remaining Elnamerrna crew ran to intercept them so that Tyfelian and the others could stay on the dragon.
Tyfelian hacked and stabbed, and Tash managed a spell. A green beam from her finger seared into the dragon's side and part of him simply vanished. That made the dragon's left wing fall off and it crashed to the floor; the near end almost hit the half-drow. Tyfelian kicked at the twitching wing, but it was too heavy and he almost tripped himself trying to boot it away.
The Listraeean wizards continued their attacks, but nearly half of their spells bounced off uselessly. Alzja blasted him with a spell that created a small cloud. This spell, carefully aimed to miss her allies, drenched him with water and sent sizzling blasts of lightning across his body, but the dragon still wouldn't fall. He didn't make a sound, though—evidently, the pain was so severe that even a dragon couldn't cry out because of it.
From farther away, standing near the western wall, Jalaysa worked her wand to cast a wall of ice beside the dragon. She made it appear at an angle, and it tipped over like a charm, crashing over the dragon's hindquarters and upper tail.
That icy assault did make him roar, especially as the exploding shards struck his left side, where Tash had disintegrated the base of his wing and part of his body. In response, he swiped out with both claws and a bite at three of the eight crewmen attacking him. He scored no effective hits, but the three crewmen scrambled for their lives to duck him.
Then the spellcasters had to change tactics, lest the dragon's words turn out to be true. They frantically cast defensive spells against fire, but the dragon breathed first. His raging flames roared through the chamber yet again, setting Elnamerrna crewmen on fire and sending them rolling.
Kiran, standing near the altar at that point, saw Fing on fire out of the corner of his eye, and he believed he saw Melanerra similarly in deep trouble. He definitely heard Fing's wails of agony and moved to help her, but six draconians swarmed him, forcing him to defend himself. The draconians turned out to be clearly inferior opponents for one of Kiran's exceptional fighting ability, but their attack severely stalled his attempt to assist Fing and Melanerra. His sword struck out, fast and hard, dropping them, and his shield belted one across the face, shoving it out of the way, but he could not reach the women.
Tyfelian stuck his left sword into the dragon's throat, but the point failed to penetrate deeply in that area through the scales. Then, the dragon squatted, intending to squash the interloper, but Tyfelian was too fast for that. He squirmed out and sent both of his swords flying into a kneecap.
The dragon grunted with pain, but he furiously whipped his tail over and slapped the Elnamerrna leader hard, sending him flying. The sensation felt much like getting hit by an uprooted tree swung by a giant, and it bruised Tyfelian's back right through the Dridercomp. He soared across the room to slam into a corner, but he hit it so hard it bounced him right back across the place, scattering crewmen and corpses, to crash onto the floor less than twenty feet from the dragon.
Had Tyfelian not been wearing armor with enchantment of near-artifact power, he would have been killed, then and there. Even with the Dridercomp, he felt like he had fractures in his back and ribs. He could barely move his left leg as he started to stagger to his feet.
The dragon opened his mouth to bite Tyfelian in half, but five sword blades interposed and his bite resulted only in pain to his lips and tongue and the roof of his mouth. The crewmen collectively pushed upward with their blades, driving the dragon back as Alzja uncharacteristically stopped her spell attacks and healed Tyfelian.
Jaclyn worked her way toward Tash and three others who were on the floor, desperately trying to put out the flames that were killing them. Jaclyn knew that if she acted fast enough, she could use her mental powers to snuff out the flames—or she could try it, at least, since she didn't know what was wrong with her—and then Melanerra could heal herself and the other three.
The draconians in her way made it slow going, though. She slashed with her scimitar and belted the lizard-like men out of the way with her shield, but it always seemed as if one more stood ready to attack her. She finally reached the last of them, and a quick slash of her scimitar struck it down, but her blade got wedged into the stone statue that it suddenly became.
Jaclyn could have spent a few seconds wrenching her scimitar out of the dead draconian, but her friends needed her, and she now stood right by them. She released the hilt to turn and face them, and then she concentrated to call upon a psionic power that would reduce, then eliminate, flame.
The psionic energy funneled from her brain, but it felt sluggish. Jaclyn dimly realized at that moment that it was Krynn itself, the very planet or perhaps something in the crystal shell, that was working against her, draining her psionic energy and scrambling the pathways in her mind that made her abilities work. Her mental effort to extinguish the flames began to have an effect, but it took longer than it should have, precious seconds of delay before the flames were affected.
And the dragon acted first because of it. He opened his vast mouth and breathed his fire once more.
The terrible flames rolled over the room again. Crewmen leaped out of the way or flattened themselves against the walls, screaming. Jaclyn's mental powers converted most of the inferno into harmless light, but only for herself. Even she winced, as the protective power that kept her alive did not form instantly as it normally would have...
... worse still, she never had a chance to smother the fires that consumed her friends nearby...
... the cries of pain from Tash, Trula, Melanerra and Fing became ear shattering, then abruptly stopped...
... as did Tyfelian's heart, for one beat, for those had sounded like death screams, but he had no chance to look. The dragon made a weak swipe at him with a claw. He easily sidestepped and one of his swords sliced deep into that ankle, even as his hair stood on end from a lightning bolt cast by Alzja. The powerful electrical bolt sparked wildly across the golden scales.
The dragon gurgled something unintelligible as his evil eyes went dark. The great gold body faltered, and Tyfelian had to dive into a roll to avoid being crushed as the dragon fell.
The great reptile's last hot breath rolled over Tyfelian as the supple neck turned the enormous head. With that breath came a feeble effort at a bite, but Tyfelian's reflexive scuttle backward was unnecessary, for the dragon could no longer see. His teeth clattered together far short of the half-drow, and then he went limp.
In the background, behind him, Tyfelian heard a metallic clanging, followed instantly by a faint chiming sound, as of a bell falling silent, and he smelled charred leather and superheated metal.
Then he heard Jaclyn scream a line of profanity that would have raised even Captain Pelias Wrackblood's eyebrow had he been there, and his heart froze. Jaclyn, unlike Alzja, did not swear for trivial reasons, and she had just used some extremely filthy language.
Fearing the worst, Tyfelian twirled away from the dragon, then he had to jump away again—just one second before it would have fallen over onto him and crushed him. The dragon had crumpled where he had stood, but then the corpse had rolled over, creating a double-jeopardy situation as far as crushing him was concerned.
Tyfelian's swords bit deeply into its head to make sure it was dead, but then he had to whirl around to face three draconians.
Baaz draconians, if he remembered Fing's descriptions right. As Kiran had discovered moments before, they were not fearsome opponents for a fighter of skill. Still, he made sure to be careful to keep his swords from becoming trapped in them as they turned to stone after he killed them.
Then it stopped, almost like a silent crash. The sudden absence of sound seemed almost like a pandemonium in and of itself, and Tyfelian's ears hurt.
However, his heart hurt worse. He ignored the treasure in the room, the groans of his crewmen who had been hurt, his own wounds, everything, and looked around fast to see what Jaclyn had sworn about and why—though he had a dreadful feeling that he already knew it.
Four piles of ash near the center of the floor seized his needle-like gaze, as a spider's fangs would grip a fly.
Horrified, Tyfelian moved numbly to the altar. He wiped his swords on the dark cleric's robes, then sheathed his blades. He whipped out a dagger to cut Anna's bonds, then handed the weapon to her so he could run to the piles of ash. During his movement to the altar and his freeing of Anna, his eyes had never left the piles.
He hopped right over a bound crewman on the floor and hustled to the spot.
Jaclyn's stricken expression greeted him there. She caught him in mid-stride.
"Not a chance, Ty," she said to him. "It's just their ashes. They were vaporized."
"Got to find something—Alzja can bring 'em back—" Tyfelian muttered, trying to push her away.
"She can't," Jaclyn said to him. She held him back by standing in his way—she had to. She had not the muscle to physically hold him still. The human blood from his lunatic father ran strong in his veins; he was far stronger than a typical drow man, more like a large human male might be.
"There's nothing left," the psion choked, and Tyfelian snapped out of his fugue at her words...
... for he saw unshed tears in her eyes.
Somewhat calmer now, Tyfelian gently disengaged himself from Jaclyn and walked over to the piles. His boots sifted through the remains of what had been Trula's leather armor and Fing's hoopak—the back of his mind registered puzzlement at how the kender's wooden staff-sling could have survived the blast, but he figured that it had had some magic to it. He found Trula's Elendran artifacts, the Bracers of the Ebon Rogue, and picked them up without thinking.
He tried to keep his boots out of the ashes, but the piles spread out too far, almost as if the bodies had exploded. With dragonfire, that was a distinct possibility, Tyfelian realized, even as his foot kicked Melanerra's star-shaped holy symbol, beneath some remnants of burned clothing and half-incinerated personal items. He saw only Fing's bracers of armor, which he picked up to examine later, and a puddle of melted steel that could only have been Melanerra's fabulous chain mail.
His tears blurred his sight as he bent down to retrieve the Adamantine Wand of Evin'shay. Nothing else remained of Tash; she had carried nothing more that could withstand dragonfire. Like Trula's Bracers, the Wand was unharmed. Tyfelian felt no surprise at this; most artifacts could be destroyed only by specific means, and he had no idea how to do away with the Elendran Seven.
He looked forlornly for any traces of his four fellow adventurers—a hair, a fingernail, a splinter of bone, even a bit of charred skin that would allow a resurrection spell to work—but he saw nothing. He did find a tiny, half-melted bell that had once adorned Fing's hair, but nothing of the kender's lovely black locks. He even pried the little bell apart, but he found no hair inside it.
All gone.
His hands shaking, he tucked the bell into his palm with Tash's Wand, and picked up the hoopak and the holy symbol. The symbol had fared somewhat better then the others—the craftwork model of Erilonia's brightest moon was still recognizable, but even it had melted a bit. The hoopak broke apart when he picked it up from the floor. Not all of it had survived, he saw; only fragments remained.
Tyfelian started to say something to the crew, but he lost his breath as the shock truly hit him. The numbness of his body and his heart went away, and Tyfelian found that he actually wished that it had not. His strength faded and he crumpled to his knees, as if a giant had punched him in the kidneys, among the remains of his friends and maniacal admirer.
"Abt?" he gasped.
"Yes?" the minotaur replied, hurrying to Tyfelian and putting one of his huge hands on his leader's shoulder.
"Where's the lowest undersea canyon in Krynn's deepest ocean?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "That's where I want to be right now."
Abt's lips moved, but no words came forth; he was completely at a loss for anything to say.
Tyfelian's hands covered his face as he bowed his head, and Abt felt sure that he was imagining that undersea canyon and truly wishing he could hide in it, perhaps forever. A very soft yelp came from him, a wail of grief and loss that issued straight from his heart. His tears flowed freely now, and they trickled over his hands to splash into the ashes.
When his immediate grief had played itself out, he looked up to see Anna and the other nineteen crewmen, plus a Krynnish elf that he had never met, waiting for him to finish. Anna stood there, barefooted, wearing a very simple peasant dress that looked a little too large for her.
She extended a hand down to help him rise. Tyfelian took it and she lifted him.
She sniffled, glancing at the ashes. Then she said, "Despite everything... thank you for coming after us. How did you know?"
"Long story," Tyfelian replied. "Sildara," he choked out, beckoning to her.
The Svart Alfar hurried to him. As she approached him, he spoke to her in drow sign.
"Take over for me for a while," he managed to tell her with his shaking hands. She smiled at him briefly, taking command from him with understanding. He moved away and leaned against a wall to compose himself and bring back the leader within his soul.
"What can you tell me about what's happening here with those good dragon eggs?" Sildara asked Anna.
"They're using them to make things. Not draconians... I don't know what they're making, but they're creating something with them."
Sildara shuddered, not wanting to think about what that might be. A possibility occurred to her, but she didn't want to believe it.
"You heard this before they brought you here to sacrifice you?"
Anna found a very faint smile. "You'd be surprised at what you can hear when you're in prison... when they think that you're going to die soon, they're not careful what they say."
Sildara nodded, but then she looked into Anna's eyes. One more thing needed looking after, and Sildara felt that it was perhaps better that she, and not Tyfelian or any other man, asked Anna the question.
"When they held you prisoner here, I'm sure that the guards..." she trailed off, unsure how to continue.
Anna understood.
"No," Anna replied, bolstered by their success in that regard. "Credit that to Kiran and his damn drills."
"None of you?" Sildara queried.
"I talked to the other women before the sacrifice," Anna assured her. "Nothing."
Sildara glanced over at Kiran—indeed, the one who deserved all credit on that issue. To Sildara and Anna, he appeared as a vague shadow in the firelight, but Sildara called to him anyway.
"Bless you, Kiran," she said, but he didn't hear, lost in his own thoughts, thinking, planning.
Sildara walked over to Jaclyn.
"What happened?" she asked uncertainly, waving a hand to indicate the four mounds of ash.
"I couldn't reach them in time," the psion choked out, her own throat closing with grief and loss. "They never had a chance. They attacked the dragon before they cast fire protection, to help Tyfelian and the others kill it." She looked down at the remains. "I tried to put the fire out, but I was too slow."
Jaclyn shook her head, and immediately murmured softly as that movement caused her pain. "There's something about this world that's really causing me trouble." She rubbed her temples against the agony deep within her brain.
Anna had listened intently, but now she wanted to help Tyfelian. She tentatively walked over to him, avoiding the ash piles. She wasn't sure that Tyfelian would talk to her, not in his current emotional state, but he looked over at her as she came up beside him.
"Did a god tell you where to find us?" she asked. "I was sure you didn't know where we wound up, so I prayed to Mishakal to let you know somehow."
"When was that?" Tyfelian asked quietly, almost absently.
"Gods, I don't know. We've been here about a week or ten days."
The timing of it all clicked within Tyfelian's mind, though it reached his conscious mind in a very distant way. Without the Dridercomp's assistance, he could never have figured it out, but it made sense to him.
"I think you could say that a god told us. Mishakal must have sent me a message by way of Sildara. I'll explain it to you one day."
"All right," Anna said softly. Then, on impulse, she took Tyfelian's hands and kissed them.
"Tyfelian, I don't know how to—"
"Shh," Tyfelian hissed compassionately, but it was only an automatic reflex. Though she stood right beside him, Anna seemed as distant as Hearthspace.
"You got lost, and it was my fault," he said severely, remembering Anna's written letter in Jumpspace. "I had to come."
"Don't worry about them," Anna said, indicating the ash piles. "I'm sure you'll come up with something."
Tyfelian wasn't sure that he shared her confidence. Other means besides clerical magic existed, certainly, but he knew only a couple, so her words didn't ease the deep-rooted, personal void in his heart.
The four who had just died hadn't just been the Ship's Wizard, the Chief Lookout, the Ship's Cleric and an invaluable second cleric, they had been his friends. Tyfelian felt shocked at how deep his loss went even for Fing. He bitterly regretted all the times—and there had been too many—when he'd nearly fired her for improper advances on himself or irresponsible behavior in battle. In addition, during the War, Kiran had pointed out to him more than once that Fing was better than Alzja regarding the latter. The kender had been a good hand at healing front-line warriors.
Tyfelian sucked in his heart, which, spiritually speaking, lay squashed all over the floor with the four women. He again reminded himself that he had accomplished his quest, albeit at an outrageously high price, and peeled himself off the wall.
"Jaclyn, did you find out where those dragon eggs came from?"
"Yes," she answered, still holding her aching head. "I read the mind of that one." She pointed, though she did not know his name, at Gagangis. "They're from everywhere across the Inner Prime, brought here the same way we came. But they didn't keep track of what eggs came from where."
"Quite a coincidence that the artifact started failing after we used it."
"Maybe not," Alzja put in. "Maybe we did something wrong that made it start losing its enchantment... or maybe he drained it when he used it to wipe our memories."
Tyfelian nodded at her once, and asked Jaclyn, "Who's behind all this? Did you find out what deity they worship?"
"Him, whoever that is," she pointed at the idol behind the altar. "What a familiar face. The guard died before I could get the name. But I wouldn't call it worship... they don't worship him, except for the clerics. They just follow him."
Menlina came up to Jaclyn and hovered there for a moment to get her attention.
"That's a statue of their god?"
"Yes, why?"
"I've seen his likeness before. I'm sure of it—but I can't place him."
Jaclyn looked at Sildara hopefully. "Do your people still have the reverie instead of sleep?"
"Sometimes, yes," she responded with a smile, seeing where she was leading. She nodded very slightly, indicating that she would try to recall the memories.
"I'll try remembering his name," Menlina added.
"Tash was working on... it," Tyfelian said, but he choked up before he could finish. He could not talk through a fresh wave of emotional agony, so he signed to Jaclyn, "but she hadn't found anything yet."
"Jalaysa will continue the research," Jaclyn said confidently to calm Tyfelian. "Also, I found some news of interest in his mind... Highlord Kitiara's dead."
"Dead?"
"Killed last year," Jaclyn advised him. "But what's of interest is who killed her. A powerful wizard named Dalamar. At one time, he was Raistlin's apprentice."
Tyfelian took a moment to place the name "Raistlin," staring at nothing, but then he remembered who that was, from Fing's tales. The lead weight on his heart eased up a bit and he looked up again.
"Where?" he asked, very interested.
"I don't know, sorry," she replied. "You killed that man too fast. But if we can find him, a wizard that powerful might be able to help us with this."
Tyfelian nodded, hope glimmering in his heart. Jaclyn had been right—nothing remained of the four women that would permit use of spells to bring them back to life, but a wizard who had been powerful enough for Raistlin to take as an apprentice just might have the power to accomplish the task a different way.
"We'll look for him," he started saying to her, but then the unknown elf prisoner walked up to him.
"Greetings," the elf said. "My name is Ambassador Alroloc. Did I hear one of you mention the name 'Dalamar'?"
"Yes," Jaclyn told him. "I did."
"Dalamar is a dark elf," Alroloc told them. "He would never help you, or if he did, he would demand more in return than you would be willing to give."
"Dark elf?" Jaclyn queried. "I thought there were no drow on Krynn."
"What is a 'drow'?" Alroloc asked, though he was intelligent enough to guess. Ten examples stood all around him, by appearances, since the Svart Alfar were physically identical to drow.
"It's not important," Jaclyn replied. "What do you mean by 'dark elf'?"
"One who has turned from the light," the ambassador replied. "He is evil, and you mustn't deal with him. Even if you're successful, you'll eventually regret it."
Tyfelian grimaced, frustrated.
Alroloc bowed and looked at Tyfelian with sincere admiration. "You truly care for your crew, I see. First, you come from wherever in the great beyond you live to rescue twenty of yours who disappeared, now you talk of dealing with a notorious dark elf to recover four more. I admire your dedication to them—most captains I've heard of would just go find replacements and leave it at that."
Tyfelian glanced at the twenty crewmen still wearing peasant outfits.
"I couldn't have lived with myself after pulling a stunt like that," he said, and the twenty ex-prisoners drifted closer to him and the others, surrounding them, supporting the ones who had been emotionally hurt by coming for them.
"But you must not go to Dalamar," Alroloc insisted. "I would advise attempting to visit the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth Forest instead, though you probably cannot. Dalamar is not trustworthy, and will not accept money for his services, anyway." He paused. "Not money only, I should say. He will demand services that undoubtedly you would refuse."
"Where is Wayreth?" Tyfelian asked eagerly.
"Near Qualinesti, but it moves about by magical means," Alroloc replied. "Even finding it is a difficult task by itself, and getting to it uninvited is nearly impossible, even for those who can fly."
Tyfelian grimaced again.
"We'll have to try it." He might have gone on, but movements to his left made him glance over and down to the floor.
Alzja pulled four bags out of her backpack and started gathering the ashes of the four women, along with some surviving trinkets that Tyfelian had missed. She appeared to be doing her best to keep the remains of each of the four separate.
Jaclyn glanced at her quizzically; Alroloc frowned in mild outrage, while Tyfelian glared at her angrily.
"Alzja—what are you doing?" he scolded. "If you're gathering their ashes as material components, I'm not going to be very happy."
"We might need the ashes later on, if we find someone who can bring them back," she explained. "Might be crucial to have them."
"All right..." Tyfelian said to her in a softer tone. "Sorry."
When Alzja had finished, Tyfelian addressed the crew.
"Those of you here who were captured—do you know where your equipment is?"
"Dragon's lair, I'd figure," Anna told him, pointing at the opening.
"All right, go get it. Also, gather up as much of that dragon's treasure as you can carry. Then we're leaving after we destroy that idol and get the eggs out. Kiran, go with them."
He turned away from them to address Alroloc. "We can return you to Qualinesti or Silvanesti if you wish," he offered.
"Neither one," Alroloc replied. "Kendermore. I'm the ambassador to the kender lands."
Tyfelian nodded politely, though privately he didn't believe the words.
"More likely, you're placed in Kendermore to observe events on Ansalon's eastern shores," he silently accused the elf, but he said nothing of the sort.
"You may take a share of the dragon's treasure and other valuables here, if you want. My First Officer is the one who sorts it out and divides it up among my crew. I can tell him to add an extra share."
"No," the ambassador replied. "I've already picked up a few items from the guards here. I'm satisfied with this."
He handed Tyfelian a scorched but usable bag in which he had placed some surviving steel coins and a few gems and jewels. The half-drow glanced into it, then dismissed it with a slow wave of his hand. It was quite a bit less than an actual share of the treasure present, Tyfelian figured, if his experience with dragon hoards meant anything.
"That's fine," he said, handing it back.
Sildara walked over to him.
"So... you're not entirely noble," she teased him lightly, mostly to take his mind off the casualties. "You're greedy."
Tyfelian managed a smile and his eyes narrowed with amusement. "Not really... it costs a lot to keep a starship going. I need the money... to pay you and the rest of the crew, which is expensive... and that's only the beginning. We aren't backed by the Empire of the Elves anymore."
Sildara grinned at him and nodded, hoping she had lifted his spirits a bit.
Perhaps she had, for he turned away—not angrily, but with renewed energy—and moved out through the opening in the western wall.
"Barolcot! You're with me."
A short passage led them west, but Tyfelian's senses told him that it couldn't go far before it would open to a ledge, or perhaps a precipice, on the volcano's side.
"This is a new tunnel," Barolcot commented. "It weren't here a year ago, I promise y'that."
Tyfelian acknowledged with a slight nod, not surprised much.
"That idol back there disturbs me," Tyfelian said to the dwarf. "I know that the Queen of Darkness is evil, but at least she's part of the natural order of things for this world. That Abyssal Lord is trying to horn in where he doesn't belong."
"True," the dwarf returned. "He ain't stayin', either. I'll take that idol apart m'self."
"What if that summons him?"
"Bah! If he pops int'this world, one or more o' the Krynn gods'll kick his ass t'Krynn's moons an' back before y'know it," Barolcot guffawed. "And y'know what? Even if it's the Dark Queen 'erself, I'll help 'er!"
Tyfelian could not help agreeing.
They reached the end of the new tunnel, which put them in a small cave with an opening to the surface. They saw a fairly large, rough ledge outside, easily large enough to allow expansion of the Elnamerrna when the time came.
Tyfelian looked approvingly at his crew as they gathered the dragon's impressive wealth.
The half-drow did not know how to tell a dragon's age beyond obvious clues, but the strange gold dragon they had killed in the altar room must have been an older one, by the amount of treasure he had hoarded. Tyfelian felt, not greedy satisfaction, but relief, for his words to Sildara had been true.
"We sure need this money," Barolcot noted to him, echoing his thoughts, but that was only natural for the dwarf, who was always interested in money.
"Yes, even more now, since the services of a powerful wizard don't come cheap," Tyfelian agreed, "I don't mind paying, though. Their lives are more important."
Even Barolcot, with his wealth-loving heart, couldn't argue with that.
When they had taken all of the best treasure they could carry, Abt produced the Elnamerrna from his backpack and they expanded her on the ledge.
At Sildara's suggestion, they emptied their bags in the cargo bay and all of them went back to loot the dragon's lair a second time with the ship expanded. Tyfelian had thought about this previously, though he truly felt satisfied with the valuables that the crew already had, but he allowed it.
"You can't never have 'nough money when your expenses is high," Barolcot noted to Tyfelian and Kiran, and even the paladin made no comment against the dwarf's words.
After that, they went back to the temple complex. This time, those who went there were armed, not with weapons, but with tools for demolition work—crowbars and heavy hammers were in abundance with this team.
Kreg and Abt walked behind the idol and used their crowbars on it. They furiously heaved it over onto the altar. Its belly section made a highly satisfying crunch as it shattered the altar's stone and itself.
Tyfelian led them in their destruction of the idol. He swung his hammer onto the stone head, cracking it, and finally smashing it right off the neck. He hit it again for good measure to pulverize it.
Kiran viciously smote the idol, calling forth his divine power to strike at evil. He felt the profane strength of the idol give way under his god's might, strong in Kiran even within Krynnspace, and he swung the hammer many times, mauling the stone into rubble.
All twenty of the crewmen who had been imprisoned worked hard on portions of the idol. Alroloc did not participate, but he did watch with approval.
Barolcot stomped the fragments with his heavy boots, and Alzja poured holy water over the debris.
"So much fer 'im here," Barolcot said with satisfaction as she finished with the water.
Trula came into the altar room from the south entrance, four crewmen following. She carried a large object in her arms. It was covered with a small blanket.
"Do we have to?" Trula asked Tyfelian and Kiran.
"Unfortunately, yes," the paladin answered. "Barol, hammer a flat spot in the wreckage, please."
Barolcot did, and Trula place the object on the flat place he'd created.
Tyfelian picked up the blanket and set it aside.
The others, except for Kiran, Trula, and the five who had been with her, looked at it with surprise.
"The Dark Queen?" Barolcot asked, puzzled.
"Yeah," Tyfelian muttered, also not pleased. "This place needs to be re-consecrated... or maybe
desecrated... to the Queen of Darkness. If we don't, that fiend's presence here will just come sneaking right back," he snarled.
They all looked without enthusiasm at the small statue of the five-headed dragon. It was nothing spectacular—no precious gems or other valuables studded its exterior.
Still, it was a symbol, of sorts, of the Queen of Darkness.
Tyfelian looked dejected about it, but he started to kneel before the symbol.
Anna stopped him.
"No. I'll do it."
He looked into her eyes and saw a reason there. Even with his Dridercomp-enhanced intuition, he did not know what it was, but he stood once more and stepped aside. He did not understand, but he did not question.
It seemed strange to him that someone who, back on Erilonia, had tried to become a paladin and failed would want to pray to Krynn's Queen of Darkness, but he remembered his own prayer to Lolth and let her do it.
"Perhaps she wants to make the triumph over that demon lord complete, at least in this little corner of the universe," Tyfelian said to the questioning looks of the others, "and she wants to do it herself."
Anna smiled inwardly as she knelt to pray to the Dark Queen. Tyfelian's guess was a good reason, but it was not her reason. She felt the little blot of blackness in her heart that had come from killing people in cold blood to defend her honor, and she doubted that she could be dragged down further by closing this portion of her life this way.
"Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, take this place as your own once again," she prayed aloud. "The intrusion into your domain and into Krynnspace has been put down. Return here, and let us be gone in peace."
She started to say more, but a sibilant, five-tonal voice snaked forth from the symbol. Now animated by divine magic, its five heads weaved about and their jaws snapped at the air, speaking.
Anna snapped to her feet and backed away—as did everyone else there.
"Go forth from this, my temple, back to the endless emptiness beyond the stars where you live," the voice hissed, "and destroy the interloper if ever you meet him again!"
"That's a promise, Your Dark Majesty," Tyfelian said sincerely—immediately before he ran into the tunnel, the others hard on his heels, as fast as his feet could fly.
"I have no idea what to do with them, but we'll figure something out," Tyfelian said to Kiran as the crew finished loading the last of the dragon eggs into the cargo bay.
"I suggest turning some of them over to authorities in Palanthas," Alroloc hinted. "They can handle them properly and give them to deserving parents."
"How many?" Kiran asked. The eggs all looked alike, type-by-type; he had to wonder how many of them the intruders had stolen from Krynn dragons.
"They surely dared not take too many from native dragons... " Alroloc mused. "I'd say, one in five."
"Good enough. Kiran, oversee the wizards teleporting some of these eggs to Palanthas."
The paladin rushed off to get the wizards going.
Tyfelian joined them just minutes later. He hurried them along with the eggs, feeling very anxious, so he bade the crew to prepare for departure as soon as they were done.
Tyfelian said his farewells to Alroloc, with thanks for his attempt to help his lost people, before Alzja teleported him back to Kendermore. Then he waited for her to return to the Elnamerrna's cargo bay. When she reappeared, he called up to the bridge and told Kiran to get the ship en route to Wayreth Forest.
The Elnamerrna rose from the ledge and circled the volcanoes to gain speed before crossing through the dangerous turbulence of the lava heat. Her cargo bay brimmed with an enormous amount of treasure.
Tyfelian went to the bridge. He felt happy with the treasure take, and more than happy, since he felt that they had a chance to meet the fee of someone—anyone who could do it—for the spells needed to bring four persons back from the dead without any remains.
He listened to Menlina call cues to the helm and the Elnamerrna moved away from the volcanoes, and Sanction.
"Jalaysa, take us up higher. Get us there fast," he added to her instructions.
The elf lady did.
Krynn, Ansalon
Elnamerrna, approaching Wayreth Forest
Firstsummer 8th, 2461 EY or Fifthmonth 24th, 357 AC
The Elnamerrna soared higher than any dragon could fly as more of Ansalon became lit by the sun's light. The silver starship blazed across Newsea like shooting star, raising comments from more than one night guard among the small towns in Abanasinia, but then she passed there and the gigantic forest of Qualinesti came into view.
"Alzja, go to the crow's nest and use divination to guide us," he said to her. "Find the Tower of High Sorcery and cue the helm."
She did, and not long later, Alzja called Tyfelian through the voice horn.
"Got it," she said. "South, deep within the forest. I don't know Qualinesti's borders exactly, but it's right at them, I'd bet."
"Cue the helm," Tyfelian replied.
Alzja called the cues, and only minutes later, with the ship's speed, they saw the Wayreth Towers.
Tyfelian frowned.
"Crooked," he commented of the two soaring towers. "Those shouldn't be able to stand."
"Magic," Kiran shrugged. "Some wizards are eccentric. You should see some of the wizards' buildings in Cape Sharp, back home."
"Jalaysa, land us in their courtyard if you see one," Tyfelian ordered the helmsman.
Jalaysa willed the ship onward, and for a moment, the Wayreth Towers seemed to grow larger with gratifying speed, but then the Elnamerrna almost seemed to stop.
"Jalaysa, what are you doing?" Kiran asked curiously.
"Nothing," she replied. "We're still headed that way..."
"Transdimensional magic," Alzja's voice muttered irritably from the horn. "We'll never get any farther. If she were here, I think Tash could overcome it and get us to the courtyard, but that's why we're here," she muttered, frustrated.
Tyfelian clenched his teeth.
"So close..." he murmured. "Jalaysa, line up the crow's nest with those towers." He spoke to the voice horn. "Crow's nest, bridge. Lygalliz, please."
"Lygalliz," came the hurwaet's voice a moment later.
"Flash a message to them," Tyfelian ordered, "asking for an audience with the ruling wizard of the Tower. Use the most basic flash code you know... and hope we can make them understand."
Up in the crow's nest, Lygalliz thought for a moment.
"I'll use the Rada encoded alphabet," he decided. "That's so old even Krynn people should know it. Easy to understand, too." They heard the hurwaet grunt softly as he finished speaking, caused by his act of reaching for the lantern at the same time.
"Very well," Tyfelian replied.
"Rada encoded alphabet?" Sildara asked, sitting near Tyfelian and Kiran at the table to their left.
Kiran leaned over toward her so he could talk quietly. "The Rada encoded alphabet has been in use for hundreds of years," he explained for her benefit, "but only recently by that name. The Rada have their own standardized version of the basic flash signals used by people in space, and it translates into most languages pretty easily. The cipher keys for it are universal concepts like day and night, cardinal directions, the elements, simple arithmetic..." he shrugged.
"A gully dwarf might be able to figure it out in a day or two, it's so simple," Tyfelian added. "The Rada version became more or less standard just a few years ago."
"And the original version of this ship was conceived by the Rada... they taught it to the Mercane... and then everyone knew it in just a few years." Sildara narrowed her eyes it all made sense. "So that's why your lookout and mine had a little trouble understanding each other, but not much, when we first met?" she asked with a sly smile.
"Right," Kiran smiled. "A full manual of the Rada encoded alphabet came with this ship."
Sildara grinned.
Kiran eased back from her to wait for a reply from the Tower.
"They're replying," Lygalliz called. "I—" the hurwaet groaned softly.
"They tell us to go away or be destroyed. The code is some stodgy version of the one gnomes use."
Tyfelian sighed, stung. "Just like that."
"I guess they don't like off-worlders... or maybe they think we're gnomes in one of their weird flying machines," Kiran said quietly.
"We don't have giant hamsters running in circles to make us fly," Tyfelian grumped, "but still, I guess I see their point. Jalaysa, take us away from the Tower, any heading."
She turned the ship away regretfully, shaking her head.
"Take us to Khur, I suppose," the half-drow ordered, a little dejectedly. "We'll try going back through the portal to Jumpspace."
Kiran, also feeling a little deflated, watched the outeye unseeing, as it showed them the view below as they recrossed Qualinesti. He had always liked having Tash and Melanerra around for just this reason—it was always hard to find help for matters like this, unless one of the ship's own could do it. He felt no concern over the money it would cost—he cared for wealth even less than Tyfelian—but the difficulty always seemed daunting.
"Perhaps a visit home, as we originally planned?" he asked Tyfelian.
"Wouldn't do any good," the half-drow advised. "You know as well as I do there are no wizards that powerful on Erilonia. Not anymore," he muttered, "unless they're hiding."
"What about Oerth? Toril? Terra? Nehwon? Arkaela?" Kiran asked, tossing out the names of well-known worlds in the Inner Prime.
Tyfelian shook his head, not negatively, but to indicate that he did not know.
"I have no idea whether any of those worlds have any powerful wizards or clerics."
Kiran faced forward again, hurt and baffled. Like Tyfelian, he had never felt quite so helpless in his entire life.
Behind them, a red-robed wizard lowered his hand and held back the devastating attack spell he had made ready. The alien vessel retreated as he had told it to do.
He relaxed from his battle stance and his hand fell to the railing of the topmost walkway of the Tower, but he continued watching the strange vessel. He truly didn't want them to come back to him. Oh, in truth, it irked him to drive away potential friends, but he dared not take the chance.
Not with people like them.
"They were not gnomes," a black-robed wizard at his side commented, her gaze likewise on the silvery flying ship now headed away. "They come from another world."
"And they should not be on Krynn, Ladonna," the red-robe replied. "They need to leave. Their wizards are not of our Orders, and they would be uncontrollable. Almost as bad as Raistlin, if not equal."
"Would it have done harm to merely find out what they wanted, Justarius?"
Justarius shook his head.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," he replied, keeping to himself his remark that Ladonna always looked for advantages. "They are not of Krynn, and that alone makes them dangerous. Even good-intentioned acts by those outworlders could cause another Cataclysm... or worse," he added ominously.
Ladonna looked at him intently. Clearly, she had different ideas about them.
"Some wizards from other worlds are so powerful that they could have given Raistlin a difficult battle," Justarius said ominously. "For all we know, the wizards on that ship might be capable of parting our defenses and attacking us."
Ladonna took a breath to consider his words, and finally gave in to them.
"As you wish," she said, regretfully letting it stand.
