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."
"And they wage war, now-unsuspected by men?"
"No-there is no war at the present. But they will come again. Dragons of red and blue, of black, green, and white. All the children of Takhisis will once more take to the skies in her name!"
"And these dragons of metal will be their enemies?"
"Yes!" Wryllish exclaimed. "The dragons who, with the same arrogance that brought the Cataclysm, call themselves the 'good' dragons." The high priest's voice was heavy with scorn. "In their righteous blindness they invite the same kind of disaster on themselves. And to think, they would call us 'evil'."
"How do you-do we-come to have these eggs here?" asked the warrior.
The priest was positively beaming. "The Queen's agents have brought them here, into this temple. Come, allow me…."
Wryllish led Ariakas from the chamber, still holding his glowing scepter high. They came to another door and the priest unlocked it. The warrior stepped inside to see another mountain of metallic eggs, these a shining cop shy;per color that was only slightly less brilliant than the gold.
"Eggs from all the clans of dragons who stood against our queen are now held in her temple!" crowed the high priest. "We have the ultimate weapon against our ene shy;mies-for we hold the fate of their children in our hands."
"It is indeed a commanding leverage," Ariakas allowed. He shook his head and turned to the priest. "Given the evidence of the eggs, you force me to admit the existence of dragons. Still, what assurance do we have that they will fight as our allies?"
"It is by her command." Wryllish talked as he led Ari-akas onward, showing him a room full of eggs in a deep, bronze hue, and finally to a chamber that contained more eggs than any of the others he had seen. "The brass dragons-most common of all the enemy wyrms, and thus they have given us the greatest number of eggs."
"But the dragons of color, those called 'evil'-they, too, exist still?"
"More than exist!" Wryllish replied. "They are present on Krynn, only awaiting the commands of our mistress. And when they surge forth, all the world will tremble in fear."
The priest nodded meaningfully at Ariakas's huge sword, which jutted upward over his shoulder. A small swatch of the white blade showed above the scabbard. "I see," Wryllish Parkane said, significantly, "that you have already been blessed by a gift from our lady."
Ariakas was jolted by the word. "Our 'queen', you called her. I don't think of her as my lady!"
The cleric seemed surprised by his vehemence, shrug shy;ging the distinction away as if it were a little thing. "You will," was all he said.
"What did you mean about my sword?" Ariakas pressed, returning to the priest's observation. "As a gift from… the queen?"
"It has been blessed, very powerfully," Wryllish ex shy;plained. "Soon, I'm sure, the fact will be clear to your eyes as well. If you should call on her name in a cause that pleases her, the great fury of her vengeance will be revealed in your hand."
Ariakas vividly recalled the transformation of the huge sword, the weapon he had sharpened and honed over the long winter. With each blow against his lady, it had changed color-color to match the blood flowing from the wound. It had become this pristine white, and he had assumed that the blade was permanently marked. It hadn't in any sense lost its sharpness or strength, but
neither had it gained any obvious property or power. Yet now this priest repeated the words of Takhisis herself. What shape would the blessing of the Dark Queen take? He was not entirely sure that he wanted to find out.
"But all these rooms are just introductory," said Par-kane, "to the place I truly wanted you to see."
"Lead on," said Ariakas.
Wryllish Parkane turned down a narrow corridor, a natural stone passage that had been hewn into more or less rectangular proportions. Still, the passageway snaked this way and that, so that the cleric's light was often reflected from walls twisting before and behind them. Ariakas sensed a slight descent in the floor beneath his feet, though the sharp turns of the hall made it hard to see any distance to the front or rear.
They reached another door, similar to the portals to the various egg rooms, but smaller, and remote from those chambers. Wryllish removed his key ring, but then paused before inserting a key into the lock.
"This was merely a small overflow chamber," the priest explained, taking a deep breath. "There were too many brass eggs to fit in the storage room, so some of them were brought down here."
Still the priest hesitated. He turned to Ariakas and looked the warrior directly in the eye. "What I am about to show you is known to only two other persons . . . myself and a wizard of the black robes named Dracart, whom we consulted for advice. The very knowledge of this room's existence would be enough to cost a novice his life."
"Open the door!" Ariakas snapped, growing tired of the priest's hesitation. He was gratified to see that Wryl shy;lish hastened to obey, inserting the tiny key into a metal keyhole and twisting. The latch clicked, and the door swung inward a crack.