“She fights for no one but herself,” Mirror retorted. “As she has always done. This is all her fault. If Takhisis had not stolen away the world, these overlords would have never found us. Those who have died would be alive today: dragons, elves, humans, kender. The great dragons murdered them, but Takhisis herself is ultimately responsible for their deaths, for she brought us here.”
“Stole the world . . .” Razor repeated. His claws scratched against the rock. He shifted his tail slowly back and forth, his wings stirred restlessly. “So that is what she did.”
“According to Skie, yes. So he told me.”
“And why would he tell you, Silver?” Razor asked, sneering.
“Because I tried to save his life.”
“He a blue dragon, your most hated enemy! And you tried to save his life!” Razor scoffed. “I am not some hatchling to swallow this kender tale.”
Mirror couldn’t see the Blue, but he could guess what he looked like. A veteran warrior, his blue scales would be shining clean, perhaps with a few scars of his prowess on his chest and head.
“My reasons for saving him were cold-blooded enough to satisfy even you,” Mirror returned. “I came to Skie seeking answers to my questions. I could not let him die and take those answers to the grave with him. I used him. I admit it. I am not proud of myself, but at least, because of my aid, he managed to live long enough to strike a blow against Malys. For that, he thanked me.” The Blue was silent. Mirror could not tell what Razor was thinking. His claws scraped the rock, his wings brushed the blood-tainted air of the lair, his tail swished back and forth. Mirror had spells ready, should Razor decide to fight. The contest would not be equal—a seasoned, veteran Blue against a blind Silver. But at least, like Skie, Mirror would leave his mark upon his enemy.
“Takhisis stole the world.” Razor spoke in thoughtful tones. “She brought us here. She is, as you say, responsible. Yet, she is our goddess as of old, and she fights to avenge us against our enemies.”
“Her enemies,” said Mirror coldly. “Else she would not bother.”
“Tell me, Silver,” Razor challenged, “what did you feel when you first heard her voice. Did you feel a stirring in your heart, in your soul? Did you feel nothing of this?”
“I felt it,” Mirror admitted. “When I first heard the voice in the storm, I knew it to be the voice of a god, and I thrilled to hear it. The child whose father beats him will yet cling to that parent, not because he is a good or wise parent, but because he is the only parent the child knows. But then I began to ask questions, and my questions led me here.”
“Questions,” Razor said dismissively. “A good soldier never questions. He obeys.”
“Then why haven’t you joined her armies?” Mirror demanded. “Why are you here in Skie’s lair, if not to ask questions of him?”
Razor had no response. Was he brooding, thinking things over or was he angry, planning to attack? Mirror couldn’t tell, and he was suddenly tired of this conversation, tired and hungry. At the thought of food, his stomach rumbled.
“If we are going to battle,” Mirror said, “I ask that we do it after I have eaten. I am famished, and unless I am mistaken, I smell fresh goat meat in the lair.”
“I am not going to fight you,” said Razor impatiently. “What honor is there in fighting a blind foe? The goat you seek is over to your left, about two talon-lengths away. My mate’s skull is in one of those totems. Perhaps, if we had not been brought to this place, she would be alive today. Still,” the Blue added moodily, slashing his tail, “Takhisis is my goddess.” Mirror had no help to offer the Blue. Mirror had solved his own crisis of faith. His had been relatively easy, for none of his kind had ever worshiped Takhisis. Their love and their loyalty belonged to Paladine, God of Light.
Was Paladine out there somewhere searching for his lost children? After the storm, the metallic dragons left to find the gods, or so Skie had said. They must have failed, for Takhisis remained unrivaled. Yet, Mirror believed, Paladine still exists. Somewhere the God of Light is looking for us. Takhisis shrouds us in darkness, hides us from his sight. Like castaways lost at sea, we must find a way to signal those who search the vast ocean that is the universe. Mirror settled down to devour the goat. He did not offer to share. The Blue would be well fed, for he could see his prey. When Mirror walked the land in human form, he carried a begging bowl, lived off scraps. This was the first fresh meat he’d eaten in a long time and he meant to enjoy it. He had some notion now of what he could do, if he could only find the means to do it. First, though, he had to rid himself of this Blue, who appeared to think he had found a friend. Blues are social dragons, and Razor was in no hurry to leave. He settled down to chat. He had seemed initially a dragon of few words, but now they poured out of him, as though he was relieved to be able to tell someone what was in his heart. He described the death of his mate, he spoke with sorrow and pride of Marshal Medan, he talked about a Dark Knight dragonrider named Gerard. Mirror listened with half his brain, the other half toying with an idea. Fortunately, eating saved him from the necessity of replying beyond a grunt or two. By the time Mirror’s hunger was assuaged, Razor had once more fallen silent. Mirror heard the dragon stir and hoped that finally the Blue was ready to leave.
Mirror was mistaken. Razor was merely shifting his bulk to obtain a more comfortable position. If I can’t get rid of him, Mirror decided dourly, I’ll make use of him.
“What do you know of the dragon-skull totems?” Mirror asked cautiously.
“Enough.” Razor growled. “As I said, my mate’s skull adorns one of them. Why do you ask?”
“Skie said something about the totems. He said”—Mirror had to do some fancy mental shuffling to keep from revealing all Skie had said about the totems and the missing metallic dragons—“something about Takhisis having taken them over, subverted to her own use. What does that mean? It’s all very vague,” Razor stated.
“Sorry, but he didn’t say anything more. He sounded half crazy when he said it. He may have been raving.”
“From what I have heard, one person alone knows the mind of Takhisis, and that is the girl Mina, the leader of the One God’s armies. I have spoken to many dragons who have joined her. They say that this Mina is beloved of Takhisis and that she carries with her the goddess’s blessing. If anyone knows the mystery of the totems, it would be Mina. Not that this means much to you, Silver.”
“On the contrary,” Mirror said thoughtfully, “it might mean more than you imagine. I knew Mina as a child.”
Razor snorted, skeptical.
“I am Guardian of the Citadel, remember?” Mirror said. “She was a foundling of the Citadel. I knew her.”
“Perhaps you did, but she would consider you her enemy now.”
“So one would think,” Mirror agreed. “But she came upon me only a few months ago. I was in human shape, blind, weak, and alone. She knew me then and spared my life. Perhaps she remembered our experiences together when she was a child. She was always asking questions—”
“She spared you out of sentimental weakness.” Razor snorted. “Humans, even the best of them, all have this failing.”
Mirror said nothing, carefully hid his smile. Here was a blue dragon who could grieve for his dead rider and still chide a human for being sentimentally attached to people from her youth.
“Still, in this instance, the failing could prove useful to us,” Razor continued. He gave a refreshing shake, from his head to the tip of his tail, and flexed his wings. “Very well. We will confront this Mina, find out what is going on.”