The younger of the two knights glowered at her. “We needed at least one alive,” he hissed. “To carry the lance.”
“For Khellendros,” the older knight added. “We couldn’t have safely touched it. She posed the least threat, was the easiest to handle.”
“Are you going to kill us now?” the younger asked.
“I’d like to,” Gilthanas replied. “But I suspect Ulin and Groller might object. They seem a little more kind-hearted than me.” The elf looked at the ground, remembering his time spent as a prisoner of the Dark Knights. His brow furrowed, and he looked to the knights standing before him. He let his gaze drift from the knights to the sky above. He was still more than a little worried about the White Dragon.
“And if you had managed to get Huma’s lance?” Ulin pressed.
“We were to deliver it to the dragon,” the older knight quickly answered.
“And then?”
“We would have received other orders, been sent elsewhere.”
“Are there more knights searching for other magic?”
The older knight shook his head. “I don’t know. I was only privy to our unit’s orders. I will not speculate on what the Storm Over Krynn desires.”
Ulin turned his attention to the young woman and noticed that she had dark green eyes. She seemed so incredibly young. “There are other Solamnics at Eastwatch?”
“Yes, nearly two dozen of us,” she answered. “We protect the elves and humans there. I’m certain my brethren are looking for me. My senior knight won’t rest until she knows what has happened to me and the others.”
“When we’re finished here, we’ll find a way to get you back home.”
“My thanks, stranger” she replied.
Ulin introduced himself, Groller, and Gilthanas. Fury was quick to make friends with Fiona, settling next to her while they rested, then walking at her side when they resumed their trek toward the tomb.
Indeed, by the end of the following day even the Knights of Takhisis had agreed to join the quest, vowing to leave their Order. To return to the Blue empty-handed would be to invite death, and to return to their commander would invite nearly the same thing.
Ulin believed, however, that the knights accompanied them solely for the chance of finding the lance and salvaging their mission. He kept a prudent eye on them, and noted that Fiona was doing the same.
The heroes quietly passed by the stone ruins of a small keep as they entered Foghaven Vale. They slowed their pace as they descended a treacherous, snowy slope, and then the thick mist that hung over Foghaven Plain enveloped them.
“Stick together, and keep heading north,” Gilthanas directed. “The tomb is somewhere straight ahead.”
Ulin turned to cast a wary glance at the group of Knights of Takhisis. It was going to be hard to keep an eye on them in all of this fog. “How long is this going to take?” he asked, rushing over a few small snowdrifts in order to catch up with Gilthanas.
“About an hour,” answered the elf, quickening his pace.
Meanwhile, Groller, who along with Fiona and Fury brought up the rear, seemed particularly troubled about having another of his senses hampered. He took slow, heavy steps, his feet often breaking through the snowdrifts to the ground below. “See,” he asked Fiona repeatedly, “see?”
Fury darted in and out of the fog nervously, disappearing for a few moments, and then reappearing at Groller’s side. The half-ogre, unable to hear the wolf approach, jumped a little each time Fury materialized out of the mist.
The group slowly made its way across the plain, pausing when it game to a bridge. Made of marble, the wide arch rose over bubbling water that gave off steam and coated the bridge with a sheen of ice.
“The fog is created when the hot springs on the right side of the valley and the cool lake on the left side run together,” explained Gilthanas. “We’re going to cross over their meeting point now. Of course, thanks to the White the fog is even thicker because both bodies of water now mingle with cold glacial air.”
One by one, the adventurers crawled across the slippery span on all fours. They had all gathered together on the other side of the bridge when the fog slightly parted to the north.
“Look! Right up there!” cried Ulin. “It’s the White!” A great dragon emerged from the swirling mist, its massive, rock-solid body wrapped in undulating gray and white vapors.
The group quickly disbanded, some rushing forward to attack, others retreating to the bridge.
“Hold it! Hold it!” called Gilthanas, waving his hands and laughing. “That’s only a statue! That’s Dragon Mountain! It’s not moving, see?” The giant carved visage disappeared behind a veil of fog.
Ulin relaxed his defensive stance and then sighed. “Anything else you forgot to warn us about?”
The group fell back into line, and Gilthanas trudged ahead, still chuckling to himself. He stopped suddenly, then straightened. “Now that you mention it…”
Directly ahead of them a dark figure rose out of the fog. It stood in their path—solid, glistening black and unmoving.
“This is a guardian,” said the elf, gesturing to the dark form, “we are very near the tomb.”
Groller pushed his way through the assembled adventurers and moved forward to regard the nine-foot-tall, obsidian statue closely. He turned to look back at Ulin, beckoning the young mage forward. The half-ogre repeatedly pointed to his own eyes and then to the guardian.
“It’s a nice likeness of your father,” said Gilthanas. Ulin joined Groller in front of the statue. “Father? Why?” “We see Palin Majere because we have only good intentions in coming here. Because we bring no evil to this place, we see this guardian as a friend, a loved one, and we can pass by it easily.”
” Th is guardian?”
“There are more; carved pillars ring the entire tomb. But enough of likenesses, let’s get to the real thing.”
The group formed a line and began to move past, giving the large statue a wide berth. But it wasn’t wide enough.
The Knights of Takhisis were overcome with fear, and could not pass by the pillar. They scrambled backward, colliding with Fiona and Fury.
The red wolf snapped at their heels, urging them forward. Fiona struggled to get them to cover their eyes but their hands inexorably slid away from their faces. They could not look away, could not stop staring in terrified fascination at the guardian. They could not move. It was as if they had become statues themselves.
In frustration, Groller finally tromped back to where they stood. One at a time, he scooped them up and carried them past the pillar, their bodies rigid, their heads turning to continue staring at the statue as they moved by.
None of them noticed the figure flying overhead, the dragon whose immense form briefly darkened the snow beneath its sparkling white wings. The dragon craned its neck so it could better see the tiny figures below, then it started to circle.
The group assembled in front of the tomb. The small rectangular building sat upon an octagonal base against which snow had drifted. A great deal of the obsidian structure was covered in snow and ice, but sections of its smooth black exterior were visible where small avalanches had slid down its sides.
“There are stairs under here somewhere,” said Gilthanas, gingerly climbing up the snow covered base of the building and toward its shiny, ice-encrusted brass doors. He reached the top of the platform, and a crack spread down the center of the icy doors. They swung open silently.
Gilthanas glanced back to smile at the band of adventurers, and then entered the tomb. Ulin stood transfixed, as did Groller, Fiona, and the Knights of Takhisis behind them. Fury sensed the warmth spilling outward and brushed by them, padding inside. Beyond the threshold he shook himself, snow flying onto the marble floor, and instantly melting into dozens of puddles. The wolf looked over his shoulder, and as if motioning for them to follow him, went deeper inside.