“The dragon would have turned the magic against someone, no doubt,” the Master agreed.
“Have you had any dreams about the Red to the east—Malystryx? About any other dragon?” the Shadow Sorcerer asked softly.
Palin shook his head. “Just the Blue.” He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “He is near Palanthas, but he hasn’t threatened the city. Not since thirty years ago, the day the tower was destroyed. But until I can understand the visions, determine what he is up to, let us attend to other urgencies.”
“Your discovery, Majere?” the Master asked.
“Yes. I believe it might have an impact on whatever we try against the dragons.” Palin stood and steepled his fingers on the table. “I think I’ve learned how to cast spells.”
“How is it possible?” the Shadow Sorcerer’s voice was laced with intrigue.
“I kept thinking it was up to me to figure out how to bring magic back to Krynn. I refused to accept that it was simply gone. And then it occurred to me that maybe I could do it, me personally, and that maybe magic hadn’t left our world.”
“We’ve all wished the same. We’ve all tried,” said the Master.
“Yes, but we’ve only tried to use magic in the same way we always have. This is not the same Krynn that it was some thirty years ago. We’ve always used the magic of High Sorcery given to us by the gods millennia ago, but they are gone now. We don’t have their help now, so, of course, we can’t access Krynn’s magic the way we used to.”
“Krynn’s magic,” said the Shadow Sorcerer, nodding his head.
“Yes! It’s still here in our world, an innate, primordial magic that still permeates Krynn—Krynn’s magic.”
“But how do you use it without written or memorized spells?” asked the Master, leaning forward in his chair.
“Find your own way!” shouted Palin enthusiastically.
The two seemed to take offense at this and they leaned back in their chairs.
“I mean reach out for Krynn’s magic in your way, weave your own unique spells,” Palin said quietly.
“If one can feel the magic, he can shape it to his will,” remarked the Shadow Sorcerer in an off-handed way that surprised Palin.
The three stared at each other, and for several long minutes the only sound heard was the wind whistling through the spiral staircase beyond the chamber.
“This new sorcery of yours could never be as powerful as the old wizardry,” said the Master with a tone of regret.
Palin reluctantly agreed. “It’s true that it is less powerful, at least, for now.”
The room fell silent again.
“Perhaps one could draw out the energy from a magical item to enhance his spell,” said the Sorcerer.
Palin smiled, nodding his head in affirmation as the idea grew more and more plausible to him. His smile faded when he saw the worried look on the Master’s dark face.
“If it is possible to boost a spell by exhausting a magical item, no one must know.”
Palin glared at him. “To keep such a thing a secret!”
“Indeed!” the Master said. “To keep it a secret is the best course. What would you have us do, Majere, declare open season on Ansalon’s most precious artifacts? We only just now came up with the idea. Who’s to say if it will even work? What do you think, Sorcerer?”
“I think it is best if I consider this matter for a while,” said the Shadow Sorcerer quietly.
Palin sat heavily in his chair. “Let’s concentrate on what we can do.”
“Quite right,” said the Shadow Sorcerer. “This new sorcery ought to come as quite a surprise to the dragons. I vote we launch an attack on Beryl.”
“Your enthusiasm is commendable, colleague, but don’t you think we need to learn how to cast spells first?” asked the Master.
“It’s just that the elves are in such dire need. That’s one of the reasons we came here,” said the Shadow Sorcerer.
The discussion went late into the evening, past the hour when Palin was supposed to go to dinner with his children. Usha went ahead without him, whispering that she understood and that Linsha and Ulin would, too.
Palin was unable to sleep that night. His restlessness came more from excitement than worry. The Master of the Tower had declared that their meeting constituted the Last Conclave and had instructed Palin to dissolve the old Orders of Magic and open a school to teach the new sorcery. And, though they didn’t have enough magic to destroy Beryl, they were going to try to drive her off. The future of elvenkind depended on them at least giving the Green a setback.
Palin was finally equipped with the means to do something. He was glad, but he also felt somewhat alone, burdened with a great deal of responsibility. Where were all the good dragons? Where were the brasses and the bronzes, the golds, silvers, and coppers? Where were the ones who always helped men in the past?
His thoughts drifted back a few decades, to the Chaos War. He had witnessed blues flying next to golds, some with riders, some alone, all united under the same banner. There were no evil dragons then, as far as Palin was concerned. There were simply dragon champions who fought to save Krynn. More humans died than dragons that day. Knights of Solamnia and Knights of Takhisis both—their loyalties were cast aside during the fight. And when the battle was over, the knights, once enemies, were buried side by side in a tomb in Solace that honored fallen heroes.
Krynn needs new champions, Palin thought. If this is indeed the Age of Mortals, then mortals must reclaim the land. Perhaps Goldmoon will help us find them.
9
Tears of an Army
“They remind me of cattle.” Malys’s voice was tinged with scorn.
“Humans?” Khellendros posed.
The majestic Red nodded her head. “And the elves, dwarves, gnomes. All of them. Even the kender. Especially the cheerful, pitiful kender. The contemptible kender with their puny weapons, impudent grins, and their endless, annoying banter. I took this land from them, and they could do nothing to stop me.”
Malys was stretched out on her belly in her plateau lair south of Flotsam, letting the late afternoon sun bake her scales. She closed her eyes and softly, contentedly growled.
She loved the heat. Khellendros sat in front of her.
“Some aspire to greatness,” he began. “Some humans, anyway.”
“You are soft to think so,” she hissed.
“I am wise to know so,” Khellendros rebuked. “Humans and their allies have been responsible for chasing dragons from the face of Krynn before. They should not be taken lightly.”
Malys raised a scaly brow, opened one eye, and silently urged him to continue.
“This world has seen three dragon wars, four if the last could be called a war,” the Blue explained. “Each was glorious— and devastating— to our kind. In the first war, nearly four thousand years past, the elves tried to drive us from what they believed were their lands. They were our lands, and we would have won, as the elves did not have the numbers to stand up to us. But the gods of magic aided the elves, giving them a handful of enchanted stones. The stones captured the dragons’ spirits and drew their strength inside, then the elves buried the stones deep in the tallest mountains. The dragons were weakened and exiled from the world.”
“But they returned,” Malys purred.
“The second war was not quite a thousand years later. The stones had been planted in the Khalkist Mountains, where a clan of dwarves was mining. Dwarves do not trust magic. So when their new tunnel broke into the chamber where the stones were held and they sensed the powerful magic, they cast the stones out onto the surface. They thought they were keeping themselves safe, protecting their mine.”