Richard Knaak - The Legend of Huma

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.