"Tell me," inquired the high priest conversationally. "What do you know of dragons?"
"Dragons?" Ariakas pondered the surprising ques shy;tion. "As much as anyone else, I suppose. They were the scourge of Krynn in the Age of Might, until they were bested by humans and the knights in the great dragon war. That was some thirteen centuries ago, and they've been gone from Krynn ever since."
"That is the common perception," noted Wryllish vaguely. "You, of course, have never seen one?"
"As I said," Ariakas retorted, somewhat sharply, "there have been no dragons for more than a thousand years-how could I have seen one?"
"Quite. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen one either." The priest stopped suddenly, and turned to face Ariakas. Wryllish scrutinized the warrior, an expression of reflec shy;tive curiosity on his face. "Tell me, Lord Ariakas-have you ever seen the birth of rain in the clouds overhead?"
"Of course not!" snapped the warrior, irritated with the ludicrous question.
"Ah!" declared Wryllish, ignoring his companion's agitation. "But that does not mean such a birth does not take place, does it?"
"How should I know? The rain falls on the ground- that's good enough for me!"
"Of course … of course. But my point is this: does the fact of your not having seen something constitute evi shy;dence that that thing does not exist?"
"In that case, no. If you're speaking about dragons, however, I would say that the combined experience of the population of Krynn would give some basis for mak shy;ing the assumption that they don't exist." In spite of him shy;self, Ariakas found himself enjoying the verbal sparring. The priest, he noted, reflected on his response seriously before beginning his reply.
"Even in that case, dispute is possible," Wryllish ven shy;tured. "For in our discussion thus far we have neglected the matter of faith."
"Faith? In dragons?" Ariakas countered.
"Faith in our goddess," the priest corrected gently. "And if it is the will of Takhisis that we believe in drag shy;ons, then how can one who has faith in the goddess not believe, implicitly, in dragons?"
"Has the goddess made this claim-that dragons exist?" demanded Ariakas.
"No-not in so many words," replied the serene cleric. "Yet, I suspect that soon she will."
"You suspect?" Ariakas was unable to keep the scorn from his voice. "But you don't know-have not been told this?"
"I leave it at this," said Wryllish, enjoying the sight of the warrior's agitation. "I believe this is the will of our mistress: Before many more years have passed, dragons will once again be known and feared upon Krynn. And when they return, they will do so not as a scourge, nor a menace… they will come as our allies!"
"Some would call you mad," the warrior said bluntly. "Is that the way of this temple-the insistence that some extinct lizards are going to return and bring us to glory?"
Despite Ariakas's hostile tone, Wryllish Parkane refused to be riled. He merely smiled smugly, and indi shy;cated the corridor before them.
"Pray, continue," he said with elaborate politeness, "I wonder if you'll think the same in a few moments."
Chapter 11
The Sanctified Catacombs twisted, mazelike, through the past darkness below the temple of Luerkhisis. Several times the passage branched into smaller routes, and Wryllish unhesitatingly made his choice, leading Ariakas what seemed like miles under the ground. For a while after their discussion of dragons, the priest remained silent, and the warrior walked beside him, intrigued.
"Are all these tunnels the province of the temple?" Ariakas asked abruptly.
"Yes-each temple, actually. It is rumored that these passages run underneath Sanction and connect all the temples secretly."
"All three temples are dedicated to Takhisis?"
"Now, finally, they are. Her presence has ruled in Luerkhisis for many decades, but the Temples of Duer-ghast and Huerzyd across the valley had been dedicated to false gods of the post-Cataclysm."
"The tunnels are reached only through the temples?"
"As far as we know," the priest admitted. "Though there are passages that have never been explored. It's true there are rumors. tales of some mysterious tunnel-dwellers, the 'shadowpeople/ and so forth…." Wryllish's tone made it clear he put no stock in such stories.
"Where are we going?" inquired Ariakas after several minutes of silent, fast-paced walking.
"I will show you the thing that most proves the glory of our mistress.. our queen. When you behold it, you will know the absolute truth of our destiny!"
The priest paused before a heavy wooden door set into a stone frame in the cavern wall. With a flourish, he produced a small key and slipped it into the lock. "This is a secret chamber," he whispered. "Only the elders- and you-know of its existence. But when the time is right …I"
His speculation trailed into silence as the latch clicked, and the door swung slowly, silently open. Quickly Wryl-lish darted inside, gesturing for Ariakas to follow. The warrior complied, ducking from the light of the priest's glowing scepter. When he looked around the room, he could not suppress a gasp of astonishment.
At first he thought they had entered a chamber of huge, perfect nuggets of pure gold and silver. Each was a sphere too large for him to wrap his arms around, gleam shy;ing metallic in hue. They were piled against the walls of the large room in stacks that reached twice as high as the warrior's head. Each massive nugget shone like freshly burnished metal of the highest quality. The wealth repre shy;sented by the hoard astounded him. It was hard to believe that this much gold and silver existed on all of
Krynn! He looked closely at the nearest of the gilded spheres, impressed by the shiny regularity of its outer surface, as if a pure film of liquid gold had been poured over a smooth, rounded surface.
"Impressive, is it not?" asked the priest, quietly.
"Very. Where did all this gold come from? Are they solid, or is it a coating?"
Here Wryllish smiled in a condescending way that irri shy;tated Ariakas. "You could say that it's a coating.. but I still don't think you fully understand."
"Understand what? Explain."
"These are part of the proof," replied the high priest. "Here, touch the surface."
Gently, hesitantly, Ariakas ran his hand over the smooth surface of the nearest sphere. Though not so hot as his flesh, it was surprisingly warm-far warmer than the surrounding air of the underground chamber. Too, the material did not feel like metal. There was a very slight sense of give to it, as if the metallic surface were only a sheen over a tough, leathery hide.
The truth came to him in a flash, and he stepped back shy;ward instinctively before he spoke. He looked with awe at the mountain of spheres, and then allowed his gaze to drift back to Wryllish. Ariakas narrowed his eyes, and the priest nodded, as if pleased with his pupil's perspi shy;cacity.
"They're … eggs, aren't they? Dragon eggs?"
The high priest smiled, the expression growing to spread across his face. "Very astute, my lord."
"But-where did they come from?"
"A place very far away, where some of the dragons have dwelled in exile since the Third Dragon War-the war of Huma and the lance, of which you spoke earlier."
"Then-then dragons are real?" the warrior mur shy;mured, beginning to consider the prospects for good or ill.
"Oh, yes, very real. Some of them will serve our mistress, presumably with the same devotion shown by you or me. Others are her mortal enemies, sworn to drive her from the world and to hold her at bay through shy;out the centuries."