Tina Daniell - The Companions

The hundreds of orughi waiting off the coast of Beakwere slowly came to the realization that the spell hadn't worked. Sargonnas wasn't coming-not this time. Their beady eyes disappointed, the orughi turned away from Karthay toward the smaller, even less hospitable islands where they dwelled. They swam northward, their hundreds of muscular webbed feet stroking the water, churning up a mile-wide trail of foam in their wake.

The ogres in their warships near Land Ho Straits also recognized that the time had passed. Oolong Xak, commander of the ogre tribal fleet, gave the signal for dozens of warships to turn back-back toward Ogrebond and the continent of Ansalon. At least, Oolong Xak thought with a sigh, the ogres hadn't cemented any alliance with the contemptible orughi. It was bad enough that the ogre chieftains had consented to join with the minotaurs. The bull-men had led everybody astray with their pipe dream of Sargonnas.

Back in the palace in the city of Lacynos, the eight minotaurs of the Supreme Circle accepted the news of the Nightmaster's failure with varying reactions.

Of one thing, everyone was certain. This turn of events deeply compromised the king of the minotaurs. After he heard the news of the calamity, the king immediately left the Supreme Circle to return to his residence.

Although Atra Cura had supported the king, this policy blunder didn't reflect badly on the minotaur pirate leader. In fact, it reinforced his vainglorious belief that the king was slipping and that he, Atra Cura, was the logical successor to the throne-perhaps as soon as next year.

The leader of the navy, Akz; the commander of the minotaur military, Inultus; the scholar and historian, Juvabit; the keeper of the treasury, Groppis; and the construction guild-master, Bartill-these five council members lingered in the hall long after the startling announcement that the Nightmaster had been killed. They tried to outdo one another with their claims that privately each had foreseen the flaws in the arrogant high shaman's plans.

Before departing, Victri, leader of the rural minotaurs, spoke eloquently about the patriotism that flamed in every bull-man's breast, and how, despite occasional setbacks, the minotaur kingdom would one day overrun all of Ansalon.

As for Kharis-O, leader of the nomadic minotaurs, she glowered at all the others and left without uttering a word.

On the island of Karthay, the companions regrouped back on the high ground where they had camped the night before the attack on the ruined city.

The minotaur forces had scattered. Those remaining on the volcano summit had been burned to death by the plume of fiery mist that had briefly flared from the crater. After the fighting ended, the army of sand and rock creatures who had helped the companions defeat the minotaurs had returned to their burrows and caves.

Kirsig's body was carried back to the camp by Flint. By himself, the dwarf dug a simple grave in a spot where the ground wasn't too hard. He stuck the sword she had carried into the fresh mound, leaving it for all to see.

"Kirsig called herself a cleaning woman and a healer," the dwarf proclaimed over her burial place. He tugged on his beard, then looked at the ground. "But those of us who fought alongside her know that she had the true, unwavering heart of a warrior. And we shall miss her," he added, brushing away rare tears.

Two of the sailors from the Castor and three of the kyrie warriors had been killed in the attack, including Bird-Spirit. It had been Bird-Spirit who was incinerated on the summit of Worldscap.

Sturm grieved for the kyrie who had rescued him from certain death at the Pit of Doom.

Cloudreaver grieved for his friend. True, Bird-Spirit had died in battle, an honorable death for any kyrie. But his body had been left behind on the mountaintop when the volcano erupted in its fiery shower of death. "Our dead are always burned on a pyre above the ground," Cloudreaver told Sturm sadly. "But the ashes are supposed to be scattered to the four winds. The lava will have buried Bird-Spirit's body. In death, he will never be free."

Where she had been wounded, Yuril's side felt sore, a soreness that would remain with her for the rest of her life. But she was recuperating and would live. Caramon tended to her during her convalescence, bringing her hot tea and palliatives by day, blankets at night.

Watching them, Flint grumbled plaintively to Tanis, "Reminds me of Kirsig-he's acting just like a female." Tanis merely nodded, admiring Caramon's tenderness.

The kyrie continued to perform their long scouting flights. One day one of them returned and reported to Cloudreaver that a ship, the Castor , hovered off the southern coast. Hearing that, Yuril and the two surviving sailors conferred, then announced that they had decided to head back to sea. Astonished, Caramon tried to talk Yuril into staying with the companions.

"No," laughed the tall, strong seawoman. "You don't understand, do you? Captain Nugetre is a difficult man, but the sea is where I belong, and he knows that. You are reunited with your brother. Now I must rejoin the sea."

Raistlin and Tanis bid Yuril goodbye, vowing their eternal gratitude. Flint shook her hand and the hands of the other two sailors solemnly. Kit embraced Yuril. Caramon, after sulking briefly, planted a kiss on her lips that lasted so long Tasslehoff had to tap him on the shoulders.

Three of the kyrie carried the female sailors back to the sea vessel that awaited them.

Four kyrie returned-the three who had gone to meet the Castor , plus a messenger from the island of Mithas.

A sentinel had reported from the dungeon in Atossa. Morning Sky was dead. The broken bird-man, Cloudreaver's brother, had perished without revealing anything to his cruel captors.

Cloudreaver wept when he heard the news.

"You must go back," the kyrie messenger told Cloudreaver. "Sun Feather calls you. He says to tell you that you are heir to the leadership now."

Cloudreaver collected his warriors of the sky together, announcing that they would return to Mithas immediately. The companions gathered to say a sad farewell to the ancient people who had helped save them and stop Sargonnas.

"We will meet again," said Raistlin solemnly.

"I trust that we will," said Cloudreaver.

Sturm gave Cloudreaver a stiff but heartfelt hug.

Caramon stepped forward, uncertain of what to say or do. He had grown close to Cloudreaver in this short time. He doubted he would ever forget his kyrie friend.

Cloudreaver looked at the human. He lifted up Caramon's arm and pulled up his sleeve, finding the scar from the Night of the Sea Dragon. The kyrie touched the scar with two fingers, then brought the two fingers to his lips.

"Warrior," said Cloudreaver. "Brother."

"Warrior," repeated Caramon. "Brother."

The kyrie flew off in a glorious rush of giant feathered wings.

It had been seven days since the attack on the ruined city and the defeat of the Nightmaster, two days since the departure of the kyrie.

There was a listlessness about the companions. Although some of them were bruised and nursing wounds, none of them was so badly hurt that he, or she, couldn't move on. Nevertheless, the seven companions lingered on the high ground overlooking the dead city, where in the distance they could still glimpse the smoldering peak of Worldscap.

Tasslehoff had been trying to convince everyone that he had never been truly evil in the first place. It was all a fabulous charade, the kender insisted.

Nonetheless, Sturm had been giving Tas a wide berth. Privately he believed that the evil kender had nearly gotten him killed in Atossa. Nobody could convince the Solamnic otherwise. And not everybody was certain he should try.