People of all kinds crowded the harbor’s wharves: elves, dwarves, humans, minotaurs, and even a kender or two-though these last were always being chased by someone. Occasionally, a metallic dragon would flash by overhead. They saw brass, copper, bronze, but never a silver or a gold. Most of the citizens were so used to the sight that they never even glanced up.
The treasure seekers passed bars, inns, and eateries, all with smells that made Mik’s stomach rumble. He convinced the others to stop at an open-air tavern for a bite. It was a small place with a green tabard over the door that read “Hender’s House,” and a number of tall, round wooden tables set up out front. A tall scraggly-haired man in a white apron bustled back and forth between the tables taking orders and serving meals. Mik ordered yellow bread and spiced stew; Ula and Shimmer had the same. In short order, the air was filled with the aroma of sage and boiled meat.
“What did you mean, earlier,” Mik asked Shimanloreth, “when you said you hoped we’d ‘he allowed to look’?” The captain took a bite of the stew and savored its taste.
“Dragons guard their secrets jealously,” Shimmer replied. “Few are permitted to climb the Dragonheights-though I believe they will let me do so.”
Ula laughed. “I’d like to see them stop you,” she said.
Shimmer fixed his orangish eyes on the sea elf. “I would not,” he said simply. “You two should find a ship to hire while I search for the third key.”
“I’m in this all the way to the Dragonheights,” Mik said. “I haven’t come this far to turn back-or to stay in town and search for boats while you do the hard work.”
“He’s earned the right, you know,” Ula said. “Besides, I’m not sure the sailor trusts you quite yet, Shimmer.” She grinned at the knight and winked at Mik.
Shimanloreth nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said.
“Well,” Ula sighed, standing and stretching, “I guess that leaves it to me to find a ship for our treasure hunt. I’ll probably have to buy a captain as well. No offense, Mik.”
“None taken.”
Ula extended her hand to Shimmer, and he placed a pouch of coins in it. She took a moment to judge the weight and frowned playfully. “This will do for a start,” she said. “See to the bill, will you?” She pushed her stall stool away from the table and turned to go.
“Ula, wait,” Mik said.
“Hmm?”
“Let me hold on to the green key,” he said. “It may help in locating the other one we’re looking for.”
“I suppose it might at that.” She took a moment to undo it from her web of jewelry and placed the emerald artifact into the sailor’s hand.
“Thanks,” he said, tucking into his belt pocket.
“Take good care of it.”
Mik nodded, and she disappeared into the crowd.
“I’ve known her a long time,” Shimmer said when she’d gone, “yet I still do not understand her.”
“She’s not so hard to figure out,” Mik replied.
Shimmer paid the outdoor tavern’s bill and they left. It didn’t take them long to push through the city’s crowded streets onto the long avenue leading up to the Dragonheights.
Mik craned his neck upward, trying to take in the amazing structures towering over them. Halfway up the steep road they almost seemed no nearer at all. Turning a comer Mik came into view of a distant pyramid. Atop it rested a glittering crystal globe. The gem sprayed shimmering beams of blue light into the afternoon air.
Mik stopped and stared at it. The crystal grew larger in his mind and became the great blue-white diamond. The diamond blazed like the sun, and the sky flashed with lighting. The world sank away and he soared high in the sky, gazing down on the Dragon Isles. All around, storm clouds loomed.
“What’s wrong?” asked a distant voice, sounding vaguely like thunder.
Mik blinked, and the bronze-helmeted face of Shimmer came into focus before him.
“Are you all right?” the knight asked.
“I’m fine,” Mik said. “Let’s keep going. I just had an idea, that’s all.”
“An idea about what?” Shimmer asked.
“That pyramid,” Mik said, pointing. “I think it may be connected to our goal, somehow.”
“That pyramid is one of the great libraries.”
“Wisdom’s highest throne,” Mik said quietly.
“Part of the Prophecy, eh?” Shimmer replied. “Well, it’s possible.”
“Let’s go,” Mik said.
The bronze knight nodded, and they walked up the slope once more.
Long minutes later, they crested the hill and gazed across the plateau of the Dragonheights. Before them stretched the colossal plaza of the monuments. To Mik it seemed like an immense graveyard: nothing moved, no breeze disturbed the air, no smells wafted to his nose, nothing broke the eerie silence. The monuments-marble shapes, metal creatures, crystal plants, and glistening abstracts in every imaginable combination-towered over Mik and Shimmer, but seemed distant and unreal at the same time. It was as though the treasure hunters gazed at an immense still-life painting rather than a real place.
“Where are the people?” Mik asked. “Why isn’t anything moving?”
“It’s the magic,” Shimanloreth replied. “Look there.”
Mik looked and saw a aristocrat in fancy dress, frozen in mid step. Nearer by, a hooded woman had just topped the cliff face. She, too, hung rooted to the spot: unmoving, unbreathing.
“Are they… dead?” Mik asked.
“No,” Shimmer replied. “But the dragons don’t want them here. The enchantment has frozen them in time. A nasty surprise for that thief,” he said, indicating the hooded woman.
“Let’s hope the enchantment doesn’t catch us as well,” Mik said.
“It may. There’s only one way to find out.” The bronze knight stepped boldly into the plaza.
As he did, blue sparks blazed around his armored form. He paused, as though pushing against an unseen barrier. Then he lurched forward again very slowly, as though he were walking underwater. He motioned Mik to follow, but if he spoke, the sailor could not hear him.
Mik placed his foot upon the mosaic at the plaza’s edge.
The sailor’s skin caught fire, and his senses whirled. He staggered forward, as though he were walking through molasses. Every step became harder. He felt as if he were at the nadir of a long dive, the ocean pressing in on every part of his body. So much pressure.
His limbs began to tingle as though asleep. He blinked. It took forever for his eyelids to descend, and even longer for them to rise again.
Instinctively, Mik reached toward his belt pocket, where the emerald artifact lay.
Very slowly, his fingers crept forward.
Close.
So close.
Contact.
Fire burned through his body again. The magical blaze fought against the pressure-nearly tearing him apart.
The next moment, it ended.
Mik doubled over, sweating profusely, his guts in a knot.
“Are you all right?” Shimmer’s deep voice asked.
“Fine,” Mik gasped, struggling to his feet.
“For a moment, I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Shimmer said. “Your willpower must be very strong.”
“I guess,” Mik said, fighting down a wave of nausea. “Where’s the library?”
“Not far, as dragons measure it.”
“How about as sailors measure it?”
“A fair walk.”
Mik bowed slightly, and swept his right arm forward. “After you.”
The knight and the sailor walked toward the distant pyramid. They’d hardly gone a dozen steps, though, when a huge copper dragon dropped out of the sky and barred their way.
He opened his enormous maw and hissed, “Halt, trespassers!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Benthor Kell strode down the streets of Thrakton as if he owned the place-which, in one sense, he did. Thrakton, a tidy and well-ordered city, was the largest town on the island of Berann. Most of its buildings had been newly built or renovated. The style of architecture throughout was simple, utilitarian, and uncluttered. The fortress of the order reflected this Spartan style. Its cyclopean walls loomed over the streets, looking both protective and intimidating at the same time. The city’s location at the head of the isle’s only deep water harbor, at the mouth of Berann’s main river, made it an ideal headquarters for the Order of Brass.