Slowly the serpent lowered its head, settling the great wings against its sides. Ariakas studied it for a long time, and finally found himself wondering if it had ever moved at all. Yes, he assured himself-it had.
The immensity of the creature astounded him. The sublime power and grace of the mighty body held him in thrall, so overwhelmed him that he knew nothing other than a vague sense of awe. The fact that the monster was apparently confined in some kind of cage made no dif shy;ference-it seemed to Ariakas that the wyrm could bend those bars with a tug of its claws, or melt them with a gout of fiery breath.
For a long time-hours, at the very least-Ariakas sat still, enraptured by the magnificent creature before him. After that initial spreading of its wings, the dragon lapsed into repose. It might have been a statue, suspended in that great cage in the center of the vast cavern.
The smoldering light from below continued to grow in intensity-or else Ariakas's eyes developed a dark sense more keen than they had ever previously displayed. In any event, he began to discern details about the huge, serpentine wyrm.
The dragon was covered with a surface of rippling scales, bright red in color. In the reflected glow of the seething fires, the monster's scales gleamed individually, as if illuminated by a thousand pale, internal flames. A huge mane of wiry dark hair encircled the massive head, giving the creature an appearance of great age and supreme wisdom.
Through this inspection the serpent's great eyes re shy;mained shut, and Ariakas could discern no movement of the creature's flanks or nostrils-nothing to indicate that it lived. But the memory of that flexing of wings remained with him, the most spectacular gesture he had ever beheld.
Ariakas forgot that he was trapped here, with no apparent means of escape. All of his attention remained rapt on the mighty serpent-the being whose very pres shy;ence had so terrified and confounded him. Yet as the hours passed and his terror faded, he began to feel empathy for the creature. It was not pity, but more a sense of shared outrage that a noble beast should be so ignobly imprisoned.
The frame of the cage was barely bigger than the huge wyrm. Ariakas saw now that it did not float in the air. Instead, four girders extended outward from the enclo shy;sure to brace it against the walls of the vast chamber. Each of these was a wiry beam more than a thousand feet long. One of these braces connected to the cavern wall several dozen feet to the side of the human's narrow ledge.
No longer fearing the beast, Ariakas studied that beam, wondering if it offered him some avenue off of this ledge. Though he could follow his narrow perch to within thirty feet of the heavy iron structure, the rest of the distance was a sheer surface of slick rock. If it had any slope to it at all, the cliff leaned outward, creating a slight overhang. He had no doubts that if he attempted to reach the girder, any further step would result in a fatal plunge.
Angrily he paced, carefully pivoting on the narrow shelf at either end of the ledge. He could not believe that his destiny had brought him here to starve, or to make this great discovery and then perish before he could share the truth with the world.
Dragons lived! The Dark Queen's legions would again march across Krynn. As the realization sank in, the war shy;rior made a solemn promise to himself-he, Highlord Ariakas, would live to ride at their head! In furious determination, he reached over his shoulder and drew the great sword, brandishing it upward in a gesture of determination and defiance.
"I will escape! I will serve my queen!" he cried, his voice surging back and forth in the huge cavern. For long seconds the words came back to him, a staggered series of echoes.
"Who… is there?"
The deep, booming question was spoken in a strangely hesitant voice, as if the speaker's lips and tongue had not been used in a considerably long time. Nevertheless, Ari shy;akas had no doubt as to who had spoken.
"It is I!" the human boasted to the dragon, watching
the great head rise from its platform. "I am the Highlord Ariakas-loyal champion of Takhisis, and master of the armies that shall march in her name!"
"Impressive, indeed," thrummed the dragon's voice, the tone rich with respect. Now Ariakas saw the gleam of two huge eyes, each a yellow orb tinged with crimson by the infernal fires below. "I am honored to be joined by such an illustrious visitor."
Nothing in the dragon's tone indicated irony, but sud shy;denly Ariakas was struck by the ludicrousness of his own braggadocio. "How are you called, great dragon?" he asked in a tone considerably more humble.
"In the age of the Dragon Wars, I was known as Tomb-fyre," replied the monster. "Though I suspect that was a very long time ago. In truth, it has been more than an age since I last opened my eyes."
Ariakas's heart quickened. Again he felt that tingling of destiny-a self-assurance that he would not perish, alone and forgotten, in this place.
"Why do you awaken now?" he asked.
The dragon shook his mighty head thoughtfully, the great mane swaying back and forth like a regal robe. "I don't… it was the queenl She called to me in my sleep, and I obeyed! She has not forgotten me!"
"The queen speaks to you-to both of us-through this!" Ariakas brandished his sword, and the dragon's sinuous neck raised the great wedge of his head. Clearly interested, Tombfyre regarded the human with new respect.
"Why did you come here, warrior?" inquired the red dragon, his voice a soft hiss.
Suddenly Ariakas knew the answer.
"I came because of this weapon-and the will of our mistress! Because of her prophecy: In the heart of the world, it will set fire to the sky!"
Again he raised the sword, and now he began to won shy;der if he had guessed its purpose, understood now the importance of the blue blade.
"I, too, was given a prophecy," the dragon observed quietly, his deep voice tinged with an incongruous note of awe. "When we were defeated by Huma and his infer shy;nal lances, the queen bade us leave Krynn, to languish in exile and banishment beyond the memories of men.
"But when we departed the world," Tombfyre contin shy;ued, "she made us several promises. Our exile would be long, she warned us-but it would not be forever. And as she sent me here, to this lonely prison, she gave a promise for my ears alone."
"What-what did she tell you?" demanded Ariakas, his nerves taut with excitement.
"She said that I had served her well.. . pleased her. When I awakened, she would have a special role for me. When it came time for her call, she would send me the highest of her agents-her champion. Together we would fly, and I would carry him in a blaze of fire through the heavens!"
"Why are you imprisoned, then-held in a cage?" asked the human.
'The champion of Takhisis would release me," claimed the serpent.
"Can't you bend the bars? Melt them with your breath?"
Tombfyre sighed. "I tried, before I slept. These bars are an alloy of copper and iron, too strong even for my muscles. When I breathed, the fire just flowed around the metal-it didn't weaken it."
Suddenly Ariakas remembered a tale from his temple lessons, and in a flash of insight he understood. It was the blue blade!
"I ask you for your pledge, Tombfyre Reddragon," Ariakas said solemnly. "When I release you, you will take me from this place and serve me, as we serve the queen who has given us life and power! Will you make this promise?"
"I am not a servile creature," Tombfyre said carefully. "Nor do I see how you might release me from this cage. I will grant you this, should you find a way to break these bars that bind me: I will carry you from this place and aid you in your battles against the enemies of Takhisis. As you command her hosts, I shall command her drag shy;ons-and together, we will conquer all who stand in our way!"