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“Kaz, you’d better run!”

“They’ll kill you now, Huma. Kill you for aiding me. Better we stand and fight.”

That was the last thing Huma desired, but there appeared to be no other choice. Either he moved aside and betrayed the minotaur or he stood and betrayed those he had sworn to defend. The sword wavered.

A strong wind rushed up from behind him.

The mob froze and all eyes stared upward. Behind him, Huma heard Kaz whirl and curse.

“Dragon!”

A cloud of dust kicked up, obscuring Huma’s vision as he turned. He could hear the flapping of great wings as the dragon evidently prepared to land. In his mind, he saw one of the deadly black dragons or perhaps a huge red one, come to strike them all down. His sword would be less than useless.

Even before the dust had settled, Kaz was charging. Dragon of darkness or light, it mattered little to him. He had no future, whichever the case. He only hoped to do some damage before the leviathan crushed him. The minotaur shouted a battle cry as he ran, and the ax whirled about his head. Huma got his first glance of the dragon as Kaz struck.

The knight raised a hand and shouted, although he knew it was much too late already. “No!”

The might of a minotaur was truly impressive. It was said that an ax in a minotaur’s hands could split boulders in two. Had Kaz struck, it was quite possible that he might have conquered. Instead, he suddenly froze in midswing and his momentum, great as it was, threw him headfirst to the ground beneath the dragon’s great maw.

The dragon glanced only briefly at the fallen berserker and then looked up to study the human. Huma stared back. As a knight, he was accustomed to the comings and goings of the Dragons of Light. They served as guardians and messengers, but he had never seen one this close.

It was tall and sleek. The entire body was silver, save the two eyes that glowed like sunshine. He knew instinctively that the dragon was female, although he would have been hard-pressed to explain his reasoning. The jaws were longer than his arm and the teeth were so long that the dragon easily could have bitten off Huma’s head with one snap. The snout was long and tapered.

The dragon’s voice, contrary to the beast’s appearance, was deep but melodious. “A Knight of Solamnia. What do you do out here? You are far from your comrades. Are you seeking this garbage here? Rest assured, the minotaur will go nowhere. Not while the power of my will holds him.”

Huma lowered his weapon. The villagers had melted into the background, although they were in no real danger.

“Are you well?” The question appeared legitimate. The silvery dragon was actually concerned.

“Please,” Huma choked out. “Don’t harm him! It’s not what you think!”

The glimmering orbs of the dragon seemed to appraise him. The leviathan was curious. “Why do you wish to spare the life of this creature? Is there information you desire? I can wrench information from him with little trouble.”

The dragon waited with the patience of one who measures time in centuries, not minutes.

“He is my companion. He has turned from the evil of the Dark Queen.”

Had someone informed Huma that the face of a dragon was capable of revealing very human surprise, he would have scoffed. This, though, was the case. He remained silent as the dragon digested this unusual piece of information.

“The minotaur would have struck me. It is obvious that he meant me great physical harm. How, then, can I justify your claims?”

Huma stiffened. “You must take my word. I have no proof.”

She actually smiled at that. On a dragon, even a smile was fearsome. Lord Oswal had once said that a dragon’s smile was like that of the fox who was preparing to eat the hen.

“I beg your pardon, Knight of Solamnia. I did not mean that I had no faith in your words. You must admit, it is not every day that one finds a minotaur fighting side by side with one of your kind.”

“No offense was taken.”

“What of them?”

Huma did not turn. He still remembered his indecision and what might have resulted. “Their fear and anger is understandable. They’ve suffered much. I hold nothing against them.”

She acknowledged his answer with a sinuous twist of her narrow, lengthy neck. To the villagers she said, “You travel off-course. Turn to the southwest. There are clerics of Mishakal who will care for your injured and give you food. Tell any others you meet on your way.”

She received no argument from them, something that Huma was quite thankful for. The dragon watched the refugees set out in the proper direction. Then she looked down at Kaz with near-distaste.

“If I release this one, his well-being is your affair. I have as little love for his kind as those unfortunates do.”

Huma was hesitant. “I cannot promise his reaction when you release him. He is quick to anger.”

“A trait of the minotaurs. If they were not constantly killing one another in their contests of strength and rank, I think they would have overrun Ansalon long before this.” She sighed, an action that forced Huma to close his eyes as hot air warmed his face. “Very well.”

With those words said, the minotaur suddenly leaped to life. He did not renew his attack, but rather paused some distance from dragon and knight, the ax ready in his hands. He eyed the dragon warily.

She returned the gaze with something akin to disdain. “You heard everything.”

It was no question, and the massive warrior’s expression indicated to Huma that Kaz had heard all too well. He still did not trust either of them, though.

“I heard. I am not sure what to believe.”

“I easily could have crushed you, minotaur.” The silver dragon lifted one massive claw as proof. Had either one of them felt the force behind it, there would have been little left to mourn.

Kaz turned his gaze to Huma. “You saved my life once, Knight Huma. It appears you have done so again, only this time with words.” The minotaur shook his head. “I shall never be able to sufficiently repay the debt.”

Huma frowned. Debts, again! “I want nothing from you, save peace. Will you put away the ax?”

The minotaur straightened, took one last look at the hulking figure before him, and hesitantly returned the ax to its resting place. “As I have said, I cannot go back. What is to become of me?”

The dragon snorted, sending small puffs of smoke floating. “I have no interest in you. Huma is the one who should decide.”

“Me?”

“You’ve shown excellent judgment so far. Would that more of the earthbound races showed such common sense.” There was no mockery in the dragon’s tone.

Huma felt oddly pleased by the compliment, coming as it did from a creature as regal as the silver dragon. He thought carefully for several moments, tossing about ideas that had half-formed during the trek, and then turned to the minotaur. “We must join the column. If you truly wish to prove yourself to others than myself, you’ll have to tell them what you know about the ogres’ movements and make them believe you.” Huma paused. “You do know something of use to them, don’t you?”

Kaz gave it long thought and then grunted. “I know more than I should know. If you can convince them not to slay me out of hand, I will do as you say. Perhaps what help I can give you will hasten the day when my people are free once more.”

“You’ll have to give me the ax.”

The minotaur let loose with a bellow of rage. “I cannot go among them unarmed! It would be a loss of face! This is not our way!”

Huma’s temper flared. “You’re not among your people! You’re among mine! If you step among them armed with that well-worn ax, there will be no hope for compromise. At the very least, you will become a prisoner. At the worst, you will be dead.”

The dragon leveled a glittery stare at the minotaur. “The knight’s assessment is quite accurate. You would do best to listen to him.”

Kaz snorted and snarled and called upon the names of some six or seven prominent ancestors, but in the end, he agreed to surrender his weapon to Huma when the time came.