“I know now Stenndunuus is gathering an army of sorts. I know he knows something about Dart, and I think he has done something to the young brasses. Yet I can prove nothing. If I move against him, I could upset Sable or Beryl—or worse, Malys.” She shook her head, this time being very careful not to unseat her wind-tousled rider. “Now you also know. You saw the soldiers on the ground. You can warn your Knights and, if you will when we return to the Missing City, tell the Legion.”
“Sir Remmik will not cooperate.” It was a statement of fact.
Iyesta knew the Solamnic officer and did not argue. “Sir Morrec will. Bring him to me when he returns. I will hold a council. My militia must go on alert. We must plan how to deal with this new problem.”
“What about Dart and his brothers?”
Iyesta turned her head to the front, but the wind blew her words back to Linsha. “We will keep looking, but I fear they are dead.”
Thunder watched the bright shapes in the sky until they dwindled to the north and disappeared, then he vented his rage on the ridgetop. He stamped and pounded and tore great chunks of earth and rock from the ground. His lightning breath seared across the ridge in blast after blast of white-hot fire. Clouds of dust and steam gathered around him until anyone looking up at his lair from below would have thought a thunderstorm had suddenly blown in.
When at last he calmed down and the last echoes of his thundering roars rolled across the desert and the lightning ceased to scorch the ground, a cautious head poked out of entrance to Thunder’s cave.
“Your lordship,” a wary voice called.
Panting, Thunder turned around and sprawled on the torn ground, facing the east. “You may come out,” he growled. “I won’t sear you.”
A man-like figure, tall, dark-haired, and well-muscled walked from the cave and bowed low before the dragon. Blue tattoos covered his bare upper body, and his ears were pointed like an elf s. “My lord, what do you wish to do now? I am certain the metal dragons saw us.”
“Of course they did. Those blasted wyrms can see a steel on the ground from five hundred feet up. Your sentinels failed in their duty, Gathnor.”
“I will have them punished, my lord.”
“You will have them used for target practice. I thought your people were better trained than that.”
The tall officer’s face reddened in anger. The metallic dragons had flown swiftly and with the morning sun behind them. No one but another dragon could have seen them sooner. But he wisely held his tongue.
Thunder glared eastward. “Send word to the general. Tell him to prepare his troops. Iyesta is too well informed. We will have to move quickly.”
“Yes, lord. It shall be as you say.”
Yes, Thunder thought, it shall be as I say. His power was growing—in ways Iyesta could not imagine. Soon, he would be free to move against her. Her minions would be slaughtered. She would die in hideous pain and despair, and then he would claim her fertile river valleys, her grasslands rich with fat cattle, her villages, and her city. Everything of hers would be his, and he would grow fat on the bodies of the dead. Foremost among those to die, he decided, would be the Solamnic Knights. They were a blight on the world. Especially that woman on Iyesta’s back, wearing the blue and silver uniform of the Knighthood. That woman had seen him retreat before the brass; she had recognized his fear. With those short reddish curls and the lean build, she would not be hard to spot again. He would find her and destroy her in some fitting manner.
Meanwhile, there was much to do. The bodies of those young brasses had to be disposed of, his army had to be equipped and prepared to march, his own preparations had to continue. He sprang to his feet and soared off the cliff, his blue scales gleaming azure in the sun. Not much longer now. If all went well, not even Malys would care to dispute his ascendency over the Plains.
6
Into the Labyrinth
Linsha was very quiet when the three dragons returned to the Missing City. The effects of the dragonfear and the surge of terror during her fall had worn off, leaving her drained and exhausted. She did not notice at first that the silver and gold dragons veered away toward the brass’s lair, leaving Iyesta alone to fly along the northern boundary of the ruined city.
“Why does she go this way?” Varia’s soft, raspy voice prodded Linsha back to the moment. She started out of a half doze and stifled a huge yawn. She glanced down and saw the spectral images of the city away to her right. Farther ahead afternoon sunlight sparkled on the waters of the southern Courrain Ocean. To her left the semi-arid grasslands tumbled and twisted, thrust up and down, and surged away on its endless journey to the northern horizon.
Iyesta spoke before Linsha could ask. “I want to take you someplace, Rose Knight, to show you something that few know about. Normally, I would not reveal this to any human, but I have learned much good about you this past year, and I have heard others praise your sense of justice and your courage. I think I can entrust this secret to you.”
“Why?”
“I would like another to know about this. Circumstances change. Accidents happen. Wars begin. There may come a time when I need your help.”
Linsha tilted her chin up. She did not need further justification. Iyesta was her friend and had always treated her with respect and consideration. “I give you my word as a Solamnic Knight that I will keep your secret safe.”
“Not as a Solamnic,” Iyesta demanded. “I want your word of honor. It is stronger and more binding than your vows of Knighthood.”
Linsha opened her mouth to argue then closed it. Memories of Sanction flitted through her mind and of weeks spent in a Solamnic prison. “On my honor,” she promised.
Iyesta dipped her wings and curved down over the city. She glided back to the west somewhat until her shadow passed over the empty, abandoned remnants of the outerlying ruins. For some unknown reason the images of Gal Tra’kalas did not extend this far out, leaving the verge of ruins to sink forgotten back into the dust.
Linsha recognized the foundations of the scattered outbuildings where she had run afoul of Leonidas and his crossbow. There was no sign of the centaurs, nor any indication of any patrol, guard, traveler, or wandering undesirable. Out here beyond the habitation of the city dwellers and the insubstantial images of the Missing City, the landscape looked bleak, forlorn, and empty.
A broad open space appeared beneath the big dragon, and she came to land, furled her wings, and dipped her shoulder so Linsha could slide off. Varia flew down, dipping and hooting her thanks.
“One moment,” said Iyesta. “This will be easier.” Linsha backed away to give the dragon some room. Although she had seen this a few times, the transformation never ceased to amaze her.
Iyesta folded her wings tightly against her body, curled her tail around her feet, and pulled her head in close. Closing her eyes, she stilled and focused her mind inward. She hummed a few nameless notes—which Linsha knew was not part of the magic, it just seemed to be the dragon’s way of counting the seconds—then, a dazzling haze enveloped Iyesta from nose to tail. The haze shimmered and coruscated with brilliant sparkles of fiery yellow, gold, amber, and orange—the colors of the fire that smelt brass.
Linsha shielded her eyes and watched through the shelter of her fingers. The haze brightened then shrank, apparently taking the dragon with it. Brighter and smaller it became until it hovered in front of Linsha in a vaguely human-sized glow of sun-bright light. She had to screw her eyes shut against the searing radiance, then in a snap the light vanished. Linsha blinked, opened her eyes, and saw a woman standing in the dragon’s place.
Linsha smiled. The woman, smiling in return, raised a hand and tilted sideways as if she had lost her sense of balance. Linsha hurried to her and helped her sit down on a nearby lump of rock.