She hunched herself into a tight ball and moaned. River-wind tried to untangle her arms and legs, but she held together so firmly he only succeeded in turning her on her side. Sunlight fell across her face despite her shielding hands, and Di An let out a heartrending scream.
“No, please! The draconians will hear-”
Too late. The first armored lizard man appeared at the main door of the temple. He shouted over his shoulder to his comrades. Three more appeared.
Riverwind stepped in front of the stricken elf girl. “Here I am,” he said. “Come see how a Que-Shu man defends his life!”
They knew he was dangerous, having seen him fight the mighty Thouriss, so the draconians entertained no ideas of honor and attacked in unison. Riverwind said, “Di An, run for your life!” She crept away on hands and knees. He advanced to the steps of the temple to meet his enemies.
The four lizard men attacked. Their heavier swords threatened to break the crude goblin blade Riverwind had. He traded glancing slashes with the two middle warriors, while the outside pair tried to work around him. With a skillful feint he laid open the face of one of the draconians. The creature floundered back, dazed and bleeding.
Riverwind ducked as another draconian aimed a cleaving blow at his skull. The thick steel blade gouged a chip out of one of the temple pillars. Riverwind thrust under the lizard man's high attack, skidding off his cuirass but burying his point in the draconian's shoulder. He pushed his blade in and spun forward, whirling the impaled lizard man with him. The draconian dropped his sword and sagged to his knees. Riverwind let go of the goblin blade. The draconian fell forward, driving the blade deeper under his breastplate.
The mortally wounded lizard man shuddered. He raised a wavering hand, the fingers of which were rapidly turning gray. All over the dying draconian, his dark green skin lost its color, becoming dry and hard. Riverwind gaped. The draconian changed from flesh to stone before his eyes. Even his blood, pooled on the temple floor, changed to fine gray ash.
There was no time to celebrate. The wounded warrior and his two comrades closed on the weaponless Riverwind. The plainsman dodged their straight thrusts by backing through the open doors into the temple. He prayed no more draconians were coming.
By the soft white light in the statue chamber, the scaled soldiers turned an especially vivid green. They fanned out, trying to cut Riverwind off from the side chambers and the route back to the Hall of Ancestors. Riverwind found himself backed to the base of the goddess's statue without so much as a knife. His hands slipped over the cool marble and found wood. The staff.
He swung around, keeping the enemy in sight as they drew nearer. With the intention of freeing the staff, or at least breaking off the lower half, Riverwind put all his strength into one great pull. To his surprise, the staff readily came away in his grasp.
A draconian attacked. Riverwind parried with the staff and swung the free end around, rapping the lizard man hard on the elbow. He chopped at the plainsman again, and Riverwind drove the end of the staff into the creature's left knee. It buckled, and down he went. The second draconian intervened, slashing hard at Riverwind's exposed side. He parried and parried, blocking the stout blade with a wooden staff no more than two inches thick. Thus engaged, Riverwind didn't see the crippled draconian rise on his good knee and make a desperate thrust with his blade.
The blow felt as if a hot iron had passed through the plainsman's unprotected back. Riverwind bolted away, swinging the staff like a cudgel. It connected solidly with the crippled draconian's helmet and he pitched forward, out cold.
Blood coursed down Riverwind's hip and leg. The remaining two draconians came at him from two sides. The half-blinded one made a wild swing with his sword that Riverwind knocked aside. The blade continued its wide swath until it stopped in the throat of the other draconian. He was stone before he hit the floor.
The domed chamber swam before Riverwind's eyes. He felt very cold as his life drained from the wound in his back. The last draconian, “with only one good eye himself, came after him. Riverwind's staff connected with the lizard man's chin, snapping his head back. He fell and struggled for a few moments trying to get up. Riverwind found a sword and finished him off.
“Di An!” the plainsman croaked weakly. “Help me…” Leaning on the staff, now stained with his blood, Riverwind wobbled to the open door. Di An was nowhere in sight. There were marks in the soft, peaty soil where she had crawled away. He had to find her.
He swung a leg out to take a step, but collapsed as it crumpled under him. He retained his desperate grip on the staff. Riverwind's eyelids fluttered closed. There was no fight left in him. It was over.
Chapter Twenty-Four
His life has been one of seanching. Always he has wandered, over forest, hill, mountain, and plain, seeking. He needed to belong. The father he saw die in disgrace and disrepute had taught him that the gods live, even in these dark times. He believed, if only because it was his father's word. No one else listened to the old man, but Riverwind did.
He opened his eyes. “Is this death?” Riverwind said aloud. “If it is, it is a most pleasant ending to a painful life.” Peace and tranquility washed over the plainsman.
He affects to be brave in the face of the unknown. How like his father he is.
Riverwind sat up. He could not see anything around him but a penetrating blue glow. “Who is speaking?” he asked.
I am the one you have sought for so long. It was in my temple that you slew the minions of Takhisis, and it is where you lie even now.
“Am I dead?” Curiously, this idea brought no fear with it.
I hold your life in the small of my hand. Your body was grievously injured, and I had to act quickly to catch your soul before it departed.
“You are… Quenesti Pah?”
So the folk of Silvanesti have called me. You would know me better by this symbol.
In front of Riverwind's eyes appeared a symbol in glittering steeclass="underline" two teardrops joined tip to tip. The symbol worn by his beloved Goldmoon.
The plainsman sank to his knees. “Great Goddess Mishakal, forgive me!”
Forgive you for what? Your doubts? Doubt has been a plague on Krynn these centuries past. Your fear? Fear is part of being in the world of flesh and blood. It makes life quick and sweet, but also hard and deadly. There is nothing to forgive, son of Wanderer.
A white figure appeared before him. It was a woman in the prime of life, with white skin and long tresses of scarlet that tossed in a wind he could neither hear nor feel. She held the rude wooden staff Riverwind had wrenched from the statue's hands.
Stand up. Face me, Riverwind.
He did so.
I formed the staff from a single celestial sapphire, the same crystals that make up the thrones of the gods of Good. In the Age of Dreams, so many good people were hurt and maimed by the dragons of evil that I struck off this shard from my throne and sent it to Krynn, so that the priests who worshiped me could heal the sick brought to them.
The figure's lips did not move as she spoke. The wooden staff glowed brighter and brighter, until all semblance of wood was banished. Now you see its true nature. It is the Blue Crystal Staff.