Margaret Weis - Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Forcing himself to relax, the dragon laid down upon the floor and waited, his eyes on the door. He didn't notice two heads peeking over the railing of a balcony on the third level far above him.

There was a scratch on the door. Pyros raised his head in eager anticipation, then dropped it again with a snarl as two goblins appeared, dragging between them a wretched specimen.

"Gully dwarf!" Pyros sneered, speaking Common to underlings. "Verminaard's taken leave of his senses if he thinks I'd eat gully dwarf. Toss him in a corner and get out!" he snarled at the goblins who hastened to do as instructed. Sestun cowered in the corner, whimpering.

"Shut up!" Pyros ordered irritably. "Perhaps I should just flame you and stop that blubbering-"

There came another sound at the door, a soft knocking the dragon recognized. His eyes burned red. "Enter!"

A figure came into the lair of the dragon. Dressed in a long cloak, a hood covered its face.

"I have come as you commanded, Ember," the figure said softly.

"Yes," Pyros replied, his talons scratching the floor. "Remove the hood. I would see the faces of those I deal with."

The man cast his hood back. Up above the dragon, on the third level, came a strangled, choking gasp. Pyros stared up at the darkened balcony. He considered flying up to investigate, but the figure interrupted his thought.

"I have only limited time, royal one. I must return before they suspect. And I should report to Lord Verminaard-"

"In due course," Pyros snapped irritably. "What are these fools that you accompany plotting?"

"They plan to free the slaves and lead them in revolt, forcing Verminaard to recall the army marching on Qualinesti."

"That's all?"

"Yes, royal one. Now I must warn the Dragon Highlord."

"Bah! What does that matter? It will be I who deal with the slaves if they revolt. Unless they have plans for me?"

"No, royal one. They fear you a great deal, as all must," the figure added. "They will wait until you and Lord Verminaard have flown to Qualinesti. Then they will free the children and escape into the mountains before you return."

"That seems to be a plan equal to their intelligence. Do not worry about Verminaard. I will see he learns of this when I am ready for him to learn of it. Much greater matters are brewing. Much greater. Now listen closely. A prisoner was brought in today by that imbecile Toede-" Pyros paused, his eyes glowing. His voice dropped to a hissing whisper. "It is he! The one we seek!"

The figure stared in astonishment. "Are you certain?"

"Of course!" Pyros snarled viciously. "I see this man in my dreams! He is here-within my grasp! When all of Krynn is searching for him-I have found him!"

"You will inform Her Dark Majesty?"

"No. I dare not trust a messenger. I must deliver this man in person, but I cannot leave now. Verminaard cannot deal with Qualinesti alone. Even if the war is just a ruse, we must keep up appearances, and the world will be better for the absence of elves anyway. I will take the Everman to the Queen when time permits."

"So why tell me?" the figure asked, an edge in his voice.

"Because you must keep him safe!" Pyros shifted his great bulk into a more comfortable position. His plans were coming together rapidly now. "It is a measure of Her Dark Majesty's power that the cleric of Mishakal and the man of the green gemstone arrive together within my reach! I will allow Verminaard the pleasure of dealing with the cleric and her friends tomorrow. In fact-Pyros's eyes gleamed-"this may work out quite well! We can remove the Green Gemstone Man in the confusion and Verminaard will know nothing! When the slaves attack, you must find the Green Gemstone Man. Bring him back here and hide him in the lower chambers. When the humans have all been destroyed, and the army has wiped out Qualinesti, I will deliver him to my Dark Queen."

"I understand." The figure bowed again. "And my reward?"

"Will be all you deserve. Now leave me."

The man cast the hood up over his head and withdrew. Pyros folded his wings and, curling his great body around with the huge tail up over his snout, he lay staring into the darkness. The only sound that could be heard was Sestun's pitiful weeping.

"Are you all right?" Fizban asked Tasslehoff gently as they sat crouched by the balcony, afraid to move. It was pitch dark, Fizban having overturned a vase on the highly indignant puffball flame.

"Yes," Tas said dully. "I'm sorry I choked like that. I couldn't help myself. Even though I expected it-sort of-it's still hard to realize someone you know could betray you. Do you think the dragon heard me?"

"I couldn't say." Fizban sighed. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"I don't know," Tas said miserably. "I'm not supposed to be the one that thinks. I just come along for the fun. We can't warn Tanis and the others, because we don't know where they are. And if we start wandering around looking for them, we might get caught and only make things worse!" He put his chin in his hand. "You know," he said with unusual somberness, "I asked my father once why kenders were little, why we weren't big like humans and elves. I really wanted to be big," he said softly and for a moment he was quiet.

"What did your father say?" asked Fizban gently.

"He said kenders were small because we were meant to do small things. 'If you look at all the big things in the world closely, he said, 'you'll see that they're really made up of small things all joined together. That big dragon down there comes to nothing but tiny drops of blood, maybe. It's the small things that make the difference."

"Very wise, your father."

"Yes." Tas brushed his hand across his eyes. "I haven't seen him in a long time." The kender's pointed chin jutted forward, his lips tightened. His father, if he had seen him, would not have known this small, resolute person for his son.

"We'll leave the big things to the others," Tas announced finally. "They've got Tanis and Sturm and Goldmoon. They'll manage. We'll do the small thing, even if it doesn't seem very important. We're going to rescue Sestun."

"I heard something, Tanis, and I went to investigate," Eben said, his mouth set in a firm line. "I looked outside the cell door I was guarding and I saw a draconian crouched there, listening. I crept out and got it in a choke hold, then a second one jumped me. I knifed it, then took off after the first. I caught it and knocked it out, then decided I better get back here."

The companions had returned to the cells to find both Gilthanas and Eben waiting for them. Tanis had Maritta keep the women busy in a far corner while he questioned the two about their absence. Eben's story appeared true-Tanis had seen the bodies of the draconians as he returned to the prison-and Eben had certainly been in a fight. His clothes were torn, blood trickled from a cut on his cheek.

Tika got a relatively clean cloth from one of the women and began washing the cut. "He saved our lives, Tanis," she snapped. "I'd think you'd be grateful, instead of glaring at him as if he'd stabbed your best friend."

"No, Tika," Eben said gently. "Tanis has a right to ask. It did look suspicious, I admit. But I have nothing to hide." Catching hold of her hand, he kissed her fingertips. Tika flushed and dipped the cloth in water, raising it to his cheek again. Caramon, watching, scowled.

"What about you, Gilthanas?" the warrior asked abruptly. "Why did you leave?"

"Do not question me," the elf said sullenly. "You don't want to know."

"Know what?" Tanis said sternly. "Why did you leave?"

"Leave him alone!" Laurana cried, going to her brother's side.

Gilthanas's almond-eyes flashed as he glanced at them; his face was drawn and pale.