The elf’s words burned with shame at the admission, but again the serene figure of the altered gold dragon laid a hand upon the injured messenger’s forehead. At the touch, the battered fellow once more drew a deep breath and apparently relaxed.
“You have done your job well, my friend. You must rest here, and grow strong. Know that I shall fly in response to your need.”
Abruptly Aurican was a dragon again, rearing high above the younger serpents behind him. He raised his mouth to the skies and, with a trumpeting bray, summoned the other nestmates from their hunts and meditations among the peaks of the High Kharolis.
“Who are these brother mages?” asked Auricus.
“Three elves I knew centuries ago,” the elder replied. Clearly he remembered the quest to the realm of gods, and the gifts that had led to spell magic on Krynn-and the three moons that, ever since, had loomed in the night sky. “They are still alive, and still mighty. Indeed, it sounds as though their magic is the best hope of elvenkind-at least, until I can get there.”
Soon the brood of his own offspring and his nieces and nephews had joined him, several dozen bright males and females of copper, brass, and bronze, together with Callak and his brother Arjen, and Auricus. One of the females, Dazzall’s sister Krayn, took charge of the wounded elf, bearing the messenger into the depths of the undermountain and its sacred grotto.
“I return to Silvanesti,” announced Aurican, fixing his stern glare upon the restless wyrmlings. “While I am gone, I expect that all-”
“We’re coming with you!” declared Callak, rearing up with a fluttering of silver wings, staring belligerently into the eyes of his ancient tutor.
The other wyrmlings cringed back, expecting an explosive response, but Aurican merely sighed heavily, sending a puff of warm smoke emerging from his nostrils.
“You cannot,” declared the elder. “You-all of you-are too young. Bold and brave, I know, but neither will keep you alive against the cruel dragons of the Dark Queen. And though our nest is here, we have no eggs, no clutch to guard. It is too great a risk, for we gamble with the whole future of our kind should I let you come to war.”
“What worth is a future if we allow the Dark Queen’s dragons to rule the world?” demanded Auricus quickly, raising a question with vexing logic as he came to his brother nestling’s aid.
Despite himself, old Aurican allowed himself a measure of pride in his youngster’s argument as he replied. “There is no cause to panic. It is not out of the question that I myself, with the aid of the brother mages, may deal with the threat.”
“But this is not your task alone!” asserted Callak. “Is not Crematia responsible for my father’s death, as well as those of our other patriarchs?”
“And you’ve told us how, during that war, the red dragon was not captured in the gem of life-trapping with the others!” silver Arjen insisted. “Now is our chance to slay her!”
“There are many wyrms of evil, are there not?” pressed crippled Agon, bobbing his head high to be heard in the midst of his silver siblings. “Surely you could use our help. At the very least, we could guard your back and warn you of ambush!”
“No more argument!” snapped Aurican sternly. “This is an affair of ancients, and my business to complete. Now go, all of you, and guard the grotto!”
“But there are other kin-dragons who don’t know about the danger,” Callak objected. “Flash and Brunt are gone, and Tharn! And my sister Daria, too…”
“Then that is your task! Find your nestmates and bring them here!” insisted the ancient gold. “I command you, in the name of the Platinum Father. Gather the kin-dragons to the grotto and await my word.”
Then, without a backward glance, he took wing toward Silvanesti… and war.
Chapter 21
2693 PC
“How do we find Tharn and Flash? And who knows where Brunt’s lair is?” Callak asked, forlornly watching Aurican’s golden shape winging into the sky. Abruptly the gold dragon vanished from sight, and the younger wyrms knew he had teleported to Silvanesti.
Their bronze nestmate laired far away, though none of the other dragons knew exactly where. It was common knowledge that Tharn, on the other hand, had claimed the ancient copper lair of Blayze. The location of that cavern was also secret, but at least they knew it was somewhere in the eastern foothills.
“Well, we’ll have to split up. Tharn and Flash will be in the foothills somewhere,” said Auricus. “As to Brunt, he always flies west from here, and everybody knows he goes all the way to the coast.”
“Daria spends a lot of time hunting on the eastern part of the range,” Callak remembered. “Ill see if I can find her. Maybe she can help locate the coppers.”
“And I’ll teleport to the coast,” Auricus added with a nod of agreement. “I’m the only one who can get there fast, and that gives me the best chance of finding Brunt. The rest of you wait in the grotto, as Aurican said.”
“Let’s go!” Callak cried, leaping into the air and angling for the crest of the High Kharolis. He looked back to see Auricus disappear and the other dragons take wing toward the tunnel leading into the grotto.
The silver male flew with all haste over the snow-swept ridges of the highest part of the range. He relished the icy air against his scales, the pristine frostiness of each deep breath. The exhilaration of flight, as always, brought him a sense of serene contentment, even joy. But he knew that he couldn’t complete his task in these lofty reaches, so as soon as the terrain beneath him spilled toward the lowlands, he tucked his wings and tipped into a shallow dive.
How should he find his silver kin-dragon? He tried to think, knowing that Daria was the biggest of the silver females and had demonstrated a streak of independence as powerful as any of her male nestmates. Callak knew she favored hunting in the wooded, venison-rich heights of the foothills, far enough from the plains so that human hunters rarely ventured there. Once, after warning him not to plunder her game, she had shown Callak several of her favorite valleys, and it was to these that he now glided.
He searched diligently, gliding through the hours of daylight, seeking some glimpse of silver scales. Callak flew high enough to see over the serpentine ridges of the foothills, but not so lofty that he would miss details on the ground. He took a deer each night at sunset, generally selecting a yearling with a plentiful layer of fat. Yet despite the good eating and pastoral scenery, he grew increasingly agitated by his failure to locate Daria as the days passed.
After the fourth sunrise of his search, he saw a flash of reflection from a ledge just below the summit of a rounded mountaintop. Stroking upward, he found the silver female coiled regally in a rock-bound aerie, sleeping off the aftereffects of her feasting. Daria was growing plump and shiny, Callak saw, and he was startled by the allure he saw in that glimmering, serpentine form. He wondered why it had been so long since he had sought her, or desired her company.
But this was a time for more pressing business. He brayed a greeting as he swept downward, and the female quickly raised her head, blinking drowsily as he came to rest beside her. Curling his tail onto the ledge, Callak bowed, lowering his neck to parallel hers.
“What is it, Cal? I was sleeping!” she snapped petulantly.
“Trouble,” he said, shaking off any further objections with his firm tone and stiff-winged bearing. Briefly he told her of the elf’s report and the summons of the ram’s horn. “Aurican wants us all to go back to the grotto and wait for him there.”
Nodding, Daria uncoiled with supple grace. “Are all the others coming as well?” she asked, stretching her wings, allowing her tail to jut stiffly behind her.