“It’s good to see you, too. I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but my leg ” Dhamon began, “there’s a red dragon scale on it, in it actually, and—”
“hi a minute,” Blister interrupted. She trotted up to Gold-moon, turned her face up to stare into the healer’s brilliant eyes. “Your medallion. You said when I came to the Silver Stair that you’d give it to me. Well, to us really. Palin and Feril and Jasper are looking for a scepter, and Ulin and Gilthanas are with Groller and Fury looking for Huma’s lance. I hope they’ve found everything by now, or else some of them will be very, very cold. There’s a ring, and Palin said he’d take care of that. But—”
“My medallion,” Goldmoon said, releasing Dhamon’s hand and again running her fingers along the medallion’s shiny edges.
The kender’s fingers moved almost nimbly now, and they reached up to grab the precious medallion, with its string-of-stars silver chain. But Blister’s mouth couldn’t help but fall open. Goldmoon placed the medallion in the kender’s hands, but an exact duplicate of the medallion remained around the healer’s neck.
Even the healer was surprised. “By my faith in Mishakal! The medallion can duplicate itself,” Goldmoon whispered.
“Wow,” was all Blister could manage. The kender stared at the two medallions and scratched her head. “They certainly look the same. Hey, I wonder why you couldn’t just have made four of them, so Groller wouldn’t have had to go to Southern Ergoth, and Palin and Feril to the forest.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right.” Blister beamed at the healer, her scarred fingers closing tight about the medallion. “I’ll take real good care of this for Palin. Maybe I could wear it until he needs it. Do you think I could?”
Goldmoon nodded, and Blister instantly put the chain around her neck, careful not to let it get caught in her braid. The kender Had a dozen or so more questions, but decided now wasn’t the best time. She turned to Dhamon. “What are you waiting for? Why haven’t you told her about that scale on your leg?”
They appeared at the base of the Citadel of Light. Jasper grabbed his stomach, and fought the wave of dizziness that swept over him as Palin’s spell ended. Feril marveled at the sensation, then was quick to inhale the sweet sea air.
“If we had more time, we could have sailed here,” the dwarf told Fiona. “This magical moving about is all so disorienting. Interesting, but definitely disorienting.” He slumped on the bottom step with a deep sigh. “Give me a moment to feel myself again, then I’ll introduce you to Goldmoon”
“The Mistress of the Citadel? I would be honored.” The young Knight of Solamnia grinned down at him. “And this Rig you mentioned, he’s inside?”
“With Dhamon,” Feril said.
“Rig’s here,” the dwarf replied, pointing at the shore where a longboat was tied to a spiky hunk of granite. He gestured out into the bay, where Flint’s Anvil sat. “That’s his ship. I bought it—with a piece of jasper my Uncle Flint gave me. It’s a long story. I’m sure Blister will tell you about it some time. And that’s his first mate sitting on the shore, Groller Dagmar.”
“I’d like to return this to him,” she said, hefting the lance over her right shoulder. She patted the long sword that hung from her left hip. “This isn’t so unwieldy, or heavy, but Rig must be pretty strong if he uses the lance.”
“Hasn’t used it yet,” Jasper said as he pushed himself to his feet and started up the steps. Feril slipped by him, taking the steps two at a time. She was anxious to be with Dhamon again.
“Ah, love,” the dwarf mused. “If they’re with Goldmoon, they’ll be on the top floor. Better get started, it’s a considerable climb. You coming, Groller?”
The half-ogre, who was sitting on the shore with Sageth, didn’t budge. The dwarf cocked his head, and held up his index fingers and crooked them toward His chest. “Coming?” Then he pointed at the door.
Groller shook his head, scratching Fury’s neck. “D’no,” he answered. “Like it here. I’ll sday here a while wid old man.” The half ogre stared at the water and the reflection of the stars that danced on the waves. “Weel wade fer you, Jaz-pear.”
“Suit yourself,” the dwarf said,
“Save myself the climb,” the old man said. He ran his fingers over his beloved day tablet, which he could barely read in the moonlight. “My legs don’t like stairs. Besides, the moon’s low, a perfect night for this. We’ll want to destroy the artifacts on solid ground. Somewhere over there might do.” He pointed his spindly arm to the north side of the island, where a plain stretched, “No buildings around, no people. Maybe Groller could help me pick out a spot”
Jasper balled his right fist and set it down on his open palm, then he brought the left hand up, as if he were giving his fist a helping boost. The dwarf pointed to Sageth and repeated the gesture.
Groller took a last look at the bobbing ship, then assisted Sageth to his feet Til help you,” he said.
“We’re going to be a while,” the dwarf called over his shoulder. “Goldmoon and I have a lot of catching up to do. But we’ll find you out there when we’re done chatting.”
Dhamon wore loose fitting trousers that he tucked into the tops of his boots. Holding his glaive with his left hand, he pulled the trouser leg up with his right, showing the scale.
Goldmoon knelt in front of him and stared at it, her red-tinged face reflecting back at her. A shiver raced down her spine, and she frowned. “By my faith in Mishakal,” she said in a hushed voice. “Magic so dark. It feels …” She tentatively touched the scale and then shuddered, as if she’d pricked herself on a needle. Then she listened in horror to Dhamon’s explanation of how the dying Knight of Takhisis had forced it on him. “This is an incredibly powerful enchantment,” she said, looking up at him. “Dragon magic.”
“He said I’d die if I pulled it off,” Dhamon said.
“Do you think you can fix it?” Blister moved closer, concern showing on her cherubic face. The mariner, equally curious, looked over the kender’s head. He had heard Feril and Dhamon discussing the scale, but until now hadn’t seen it
“I’m not sure,” Goldmoon said, staring into Dhamon’s eyes. “I’d like to try. I don’t think you should keep carrying this… thing… around with you. It could be risky to remove it, but with your permission?”
“Please,” The former Knight of Takhisis looked into her eyes, then felt a presence at the back of his mind, one he’d not felt for several days. The face of the Red Dragon loomed before him, gauzily superimposing herself over the image of the healer’s face.
The scale throbbed, stronger than it ever had before, and he felt his will slipping away and his body growing warmer. He clenched his fist around the glaive handle and clenched his jaws together so tightly that they ached.
“Dhamon, is something wrong?” He heard the mariner ask. It sounded like Rig was far away, the dark man’s voice muffled.
“No!” Dhamon moaned, as he fought to push aside the dream. For an instant the Red’s visage flickered tike flames, but then the dragon’s head came more sharply into focus, the scales glittering, and her dark eyes, like molten pools of magma, boring into his, burning through him, and filling his vision.
You are mine, Dhamon Grimwulf, Malys hissed as she stretched out on her plateau and purred.
The dragon’s voice sounded so close and distinct, as though it were coming from Goldmoon. Dhamon shook his head, trying to clear his senses. Was he asleep? he wondered. Dreaming again?
My pawn, the red dragon hissed. Mine to—
“No one’s pawn,” Dhamon said.
My pawn, the dragon reiterated, louder this time, her voice echoing inside his head. My pawn to control The glaive you hold, use it!