“You,” he snarled. “I thought that voice sounded familiar. You are still a convicted prisoner of the Solamnic Order. I am placing you under arrest.”
Linsha stared at him in surprise. She had forgotten he was down there, too.
Lanther and Mariana sprang to their feet and stood beside her. Suddenly, Sir Remmik found himself facing three angry people, an owl whose eyes were starting to glow a fierce yellow, and a dragon with teeth as big as his hand. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Lanther spoke instead. “She is no longer your prisoner. She is under the protection of the Legion of Steel.”
“And the militia,” Mariana added, her hand meaningfully close to her sword.
Crucible was in no mood for diplomacy. He picked up the Solamnic commander by his blue tunic and tossed him over the heads of the other people. Linsha heard a thud and a groan and some muffled oaths, then silence. The crowded people edged back a little more from the dragon. Sir Remmik did not try to approach her again.
Hiding an un-Solamnic smile, Linsha continued with her narrative until she came to that morning and the bronze’s arrival. When she finished, Crucible remained silent for a long time. The glow in his slanted eyes turned red then orange and brightened to fiery coals.
At last he stirred and his voice was a rumble in the depths. “Get these people out of here. I want to see Iyesta’s body.”
“Um…” Linsha hesitated. “We can’t. I don’t know where to send them. I didn’t think of this until I saw you. I thought you could lead them out.” She lowered her voice. “I was hoping, too, you could help me check on the brass eggs. I haven’t been able to get down there.”
Crucible regarded her down his long nose. “So she told you about them, did she? Good. Is there anyone in your group with a good memory?”
“My memory is clear enough for directions,” Mariana said.
Varia twitched her wings and bobbed on Linsha’s shoulder. “I remember the way to the entrance where the water weird lives.” The owl had obviously given up her shyness for a while.
Crucible lowered his head until he could look the humans in the face. “That’s on the northwest edge of the city beyond the lines of fighting. That might do well enough. They can hide in the Scorpion Wadi for now.”
“How will they get past the water weird?” asked Varia. “Iyesta said she is very cranky.”
Linsha pulled out the gold chain from under her tunic and carefully detached the brass dragon scale and handed it to the half-elf. “Take this. Iyesta said it would protect me from the guardians of the tunnels. I will go with Crucible.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lanther said. “You may need help with those eggs.”
Crucible gave him a shove with his nose that nearly knocked the Legionnaire off his feet. “Who are you? I do not know you.”
“He’s with the Legion,” Linsha said hurriedly. “He is the one who pulled me out of the Citadel.”
“Do you trust him?”
Linsha shrugged. He had saved her life. How could she say no? “Yes.”
So it was decided. General Dockett and Mariana, with Varia on her shoulder, listened carefully to Crucible’s directions for finding the tunnel entrance on the north side of the city ruins. Although the instructions were complicated, both officers seemed confident they could find the way. Especially with the owl to help them.
Linsha said a quiet and regretful goodbye to Varia. “Tonight,” she said softly, rubbing the owl’s head. “We will talk tonight.”
She and Lanther watched as the militia, the dragon’s guards, and the remnants of the Solamnic circle trooped past and disappeared into the dense darkness of the labyrinth, taking only some makeshift torches and Linsha’s silent prayers with them.
When the last of the wounded and the rear guard shuffled out of sight, Linsha turned down a different tunnel and led Crucible to the chamber that had become Iyesta’s tomb.
There was little left of the great brass except for bones, withered skin, and piles of scales that shone like coins in the light of Crucible’s white flame. The carrion beetles had finished their feast and abandoned the carcass to the smaller carrion eaters and the final decay of time.
Crucible said little as he walked around the remains of his friend and ally. He studied the bones silently, lost in the depths of his own thoughts.
“I will kill him for this,” he snarled.
The cold words rang with the adamant of a vow in the stone chamber. Linsha and Lanther looked at each other.
“If the Missing City is to be ours again, we have to seek a way to destroy the blue,” Lanther said. “He found a way to kill Iyesta without a fight, perhaps we could learn what weapon he has and use it against him.”
“An excellent idea,” growled Crucible.
A frown crossed Linsha’s face. As much as she wanted Crucible to stay, he had other responsibilities. Or did he?
“Are you saying you will help us? Why did you come in the first place? What about Sanction? Where is Lord Bight?” Try as she might, she could not keep the worry out of her voice.
The bronze lowered his head between Linsha and Lanther and gently pushed her toward a tunnel entrance, separating the two humans. “We will talk as we go.” He led her forward and left Lanther to follow as he wished.
“I see you still wear the scale Lord Bight gave you,” Crucible said to Linsha.
“Always. Iyesta gave me one, too, when she told me about the eggs.”
“She did well to trust you.”
Linsha put out a hand to touch the dragon’s shoulder. “Crucible, you are limping. And your wing doesn’t look right. Are you hurt?”
“To answer your earlier question, I came because Varia told me Iyesta was missing and you were in trouble. I came to see if I could help. Now I shall have to stay, because I cannot fly.”
“What?” Linsha exclaimed, horrified for her friend. A dragon who could not fly became very vulnerable and ran a terrible risk of injury or death from other dragons or even determined humans.
A rumble of anger came from the dragon’s chest.
“When I hit the gate I bruised my leg and cracked a bone in my wing. Then those men with the swords slashed the membrane of my left wing. It will heal, but I must give it time. So here I stay.”
“But what about Sanction? And—” Her words broke off as she contemplated the scope of this disaster.
“Lord Bight?” The dragon filled in for her. “He is well enough. I would have come sooner, but your Knights in Sanction ran into a problem. They tried to break the siege and failed. Lord Bight had me settle a few things before I left. Then someone tried to assassinate him.”
A gasp escaped Linsha before she could stop it. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The lord governor had a unit of personal bodyguards to prevent that very thing, and she had risked her career and her life to save him from a Dark Knight assassin.
“He survived,” the dragon went on. “Sergeant Hartbrooke took the dart instead.”
Linsha searched her memory and found a face of one of the guards she vaguely remembered. She had not served in his squad, but she had seen him several times and noticed him at his post when she went to Sanction a year and a half ago. She remembered he had lost his wife in the plague that struck the city.
“He is dead.” It was a statement, not a question.
“He was buried with honor.”
“Will Lord Bight be able to handle the siege in Sanction without you?”
He gave a snort that was both resigned and contemptuous. “The Knights of Solamnia are there. They will have to deal with whatever comes their way.”
They walked together in quiet companionship for several minutes through the dark, wide tunnels while Lanther trailed behind. Here in this section of the labyrinth, the high, rounded tunnels had been too tight for Iyesta, but Crucible was smaller than the brass dragonlord. By lowering his head and stretching out his long body, he fit through the passages without too much trouble.
After a while, Linsha’s weary mind began to sort through the events of the past three days. Something nagged for her attention, something that had been in the back of her mind for some time. She rubbed her eyes and tried to concentrate her thoughts. She was so tired she could hardly stay upright, but somehow she had to think, she had to recall what was wrong. Something about the dragons. The triplets. A certain smell.