The History of Krynn: Vol V

by Dragon Lance

  The magic-user was wearing the irritating smile that Huma had watched him cultivate over the years. Suddenly, even in the midst of the overwhelming darkness, it was the past once more.

  “I have not betrayed you, either of you. True, we are moving into Ergoth, but much of that land is still essentially untouched by the ogres and their foul mistress. We are, in fact, more likely to be safe here than if we had followed the mad rush by the oh-so-stalwart knighthood.”

  Huma grimaced at the description and felt embarrassment, though he knew the knighthood had done all it could. Magius failed to mention that the magic-users had fled, also.

  The minotaur refused to be convinced. “By Sargas and my ancestors for twenty generations —”

  Magius held the light of the staff in front of Kaz, who backed away for fear a spell was being unleashed. “If anyone draws attention to us, it will be you, minotaur! Call on your dusty kin if you must, but do not call upon that dark god unless you desire his personal attention now!”

  Sargas. It was several seconds before Huma identified the name. Sargas – Sargonnas, consort of Takhisis, the Dragonqueen. A power unto himself. The minotaurs worshipped him. A reflex action on the part of Kaz, to be sure, but one that could carry a deadly price at a time when gods and goddesses watched and listened with much interest.

  Sargas would not be pleased with a minotaur who had fled to the safety of Paladine’s appointed mortal guardians. Sargas was the god of vengeance and plots of great evil. Kaz had no choice but to be calm himself and to bow to the human’s common sense – at least, in this respect.

  “Now,” Magius said, straightening his cloak, “may we continue? I will tire eventually, and I have no desire to be within the range of the Queen’s sentinels.”

  For what seemed like days, they followed the mage through the darkness. Huma began to wonder if all of Ergoth lay under shadow and whether that shadow was now extending over Solamnia as well. He felt a twinge of guilt that he was not assisting in the regrouping of the forces, but he consoled himself with the fact that he might do some good here, where the warlord would least suspect his presence.

  At last, the trio began to notice a failing in the darkness, as if it were either weakening or they had at last reached its boundaries.

  “The power level used to create and maintain this monstrosity must be monumental,” said Magius. “The renegades of Galan Dracos are talented, but even they have their limits. Yet it appears to have served its purpose. The stalemate is broken.” Magius did not seem visibly concerned.

  Dark, spectral shapes formed, reaching for them. The demonic shapes coalesced into towering trees and thick bushes.

  “Magius, what happened in the east?”

  The spellcaster slowed, though his eyes were still on the path ahead. “Something happened in the east?”

  “The dragons came.” What, Huma wondered, had become of them? Had they all perished, including the silver one to whom Huma had become so strangely attached? “They said that the east had collapsed.”

  Magius stopped, turned, and studied his friend’s face. “Indeed?” The mage wore a thoughtful expression.

  Kaz crossed his massive arms. “You know a lot, magic-user. Much more than you are telling us.”

  The cynical smile returned. “I will do my best to enlighten you when we have reached our destination.”

  “And how long will that be? I could swear we have been walking for days.”

  The resplendent figure shook his golden hair. “Patience! This may be the most dangerous part of the journey.”

  As Magius turned forward, Kaz muttered, “More damned riddles!”

  The dim forest soon lightened into near-dawn and then, quite suddenly, it was day. Overcast, as seemed perpetual on Ansalon with the Queen’s coming, but day, at least. The trio paused to drink it in. Even Magius seemed pleased.

  “We should be fairly safe now. I chose the shortest, safest route possible under the circumstances, but we still have a day’s journey ahead of us. I will not have Dracos or even the Black Robes know the whereabouts of my grove.”

  Kaz merely shook his head and looked at Huma, who could only shake his head in return. He, too, was unfamiliar with the grove Magius was speaking of.

  An unexpected inconvenience popped up.

  “I am starved,” said the minotaur.

  No sooner had he spoken than Huma felt the ache in his stomach as well.

  Magius sighed. He tapped his staff, and a pouch materialized. It was plain leather, nearly as big as a knight’s saddlebag, and tied shut. “It is not much, but we will have to make do under the circumstances.”

  Not much, as far as the mage was concerned, was more than enough for three healthy appetites, even when one belonged to a minotaur. Huma eyed the bag as Magius pulled out fruits, bread, and even a small flask of wine. The contents were more than double the volume of the pouch, and there still appeared to be more inside. What other tricks did his childhood friend have that the mage took for granted? How powerful was Magius, and to whom did he dedicate that power?

  Biting into an apple, Huma studied the rich garments of the other. By rights, Magius should have been wearing either the White robes of Good or – and much more likely – the Red Robes of Neutrality. Instead, Magius wore a blue and gold ensemble that would have been more at home on a courtier in Ergoth. The gold, Huma suspected, was real gold laced into the cloth. The cape was white, but so soft and well-woven that it was either magically created or the work of a fine artisan. Magius also wore hip boots of fine, polished leather – and not any ordinary leather, either. The knight was at a loss to identify it, but he had seen similar boots before. The Grand Master had a pair much like these.

  This was not the clothing of a mage. Not any mage that Huma had ever heard of.

  Kaz spoke, breaking Huma’s train of thought.

  “God of the Sea! I have never savored a wine such as this!”

  The look on the minotaur’s face appeared to amuse Magius. “My compliments on your taste. It is a rare treat given to me by the Qualinesti elves. I find it has become my personal favorite.”

  “You’ve been among the Qualinesti?” Huma had heard of the elves – and of their cousins, the Silvanesti – but he had never seen any but half-elves, as Gwyneth seemed to be.

  The thought of Gwyneth opened up memories and dreams that Huma did not wish to dwell on. He forced the past into a dark recess of his mind.

  “I’ve been among them,” Magius was saying. “I went to feel them out. They remain as stubborn as their kin. Each thinks that they can save the world single-handedly. Their pride is at the expense of mankind.”

  The mood grew rather somber after that. Huma found himself gazing in the direction from which they had come. Not one sign of the oppressive darkness remained.

  Night came and, at Magius’s suggestion, they camped until morning. When Huma suggested setting up a watch, Magius only scoffed. He assured them that his powers would be sufficient to the task. Despite that, both Huma and the minotaur were adamant. The mage, disgruntled, finally agreed, providing that he was given the last watch.

  Knights who sleep deeply do not live long. This rule was one of the first squires learned. There were far too many foes who moved in silence. Thus knights quickly developed a sense that warned them when someone, or something, was near.

  Thus it was that Huma knew.

  It was the last watch, the one Magius had requested. Huma, lying on his side, carefully opened his eyes a crack. His narrow view gave him a glimpse of the minotaur’s feet and the still form of Magius himself – most definitely asleep.

  Whoever it was, it was standing behind him, he knew that now. Slowly and cautiously, he turned, as if still sleeping, until he was lying on his back. His hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, and he had confidence enough in his ability to think he might yet have a chance.

  He opened his eyes just enough to let the day in.

  It was with great difficulty that he held back from shoutin
g. Through pure reflex he rolled away and came up on one knee, sword drawn. Behind him, Kaz rose with a mad snort, more than ready for combat.

  It loomed higher than even the minotaur – a tall, massive overhang of rock and vegetation. Had it been there the night before, Huma might not have noticed anything unusual about it. He might not have noticed the massive appendages of stone that could loosely be called arms. He might not have noticed the way the outer shell of dirt and vegetation was constantly changing. Huma might even have missed, somehow, the two blue-gray crystals that seemed to stare down at him from what could only be some sort of face.

  He took in all of this in a few brief seconds. The living mound shifted slightly forward, pulling up earth, insect, and plant life with it. It seemed not to have one true body, but to borrow from wherever it stood. Huma readied himself. Kaz had the huge battle ax poised. Then laughter filled the woods. Laughter from Magius.

  “Cease your posturing, brave warriors. The elemental has no intention of doing battle with you. He is mine – a gatekeeper, you might say.”

  Kaz whirled on the mage, and the ax tore deeply into the tree where Magius had been sitting. The ax missed his head by inches. Magius turned as pale as Rennard, and his mouth hung open in mid-laugh.

  The angry warrior was not allowed to savor his revenge, for his footing suddenly became nonexistent. A very selective tremor shook the hapless minotaur. Huma lanced down at his own footing, which was as solid as ever, and then back at Kaz. With a roar, the minotaur lost his grip on the ax and fell backward.

  Meanwhile, Magius had recovered from his own shock. He was careful, though, to keep his laughter quiet and less mocking. He shook his head as Kaz tried unsuccessfully to rise.

  “You will never stand on two legs unless I say so, my hotheaded friend. Have I your word that you will cease your attempts to do away with me?”

  As the minotaur’s chin bounced against hard-packed earth, he grunted agreement. Magius looked at the elemental. It seemed as if the two crystals turned to meet that gaze, though Huma knew he might be imagining it. Without warning, the ground beneath Kaz returned to its normal consistency. Kaz hesitated, expecting another trick.

  “Oh, do get up!” the spellcaster muttered. “You’re perfectly safe.”

  Huma relaxed, but he did not return his sword to its sheath. The earthen creature disturbed him.

  Rising, Magius stepped between Huma and the creature. Like a man training a hound, Magius raised one hand and said, “Speak to me.”

  The voice was deep and echoing, but also like listening to a pile of rocks and pebbles being shaken violently in a bucket. The first words were practically unintelligible. It repeated itself.

  “All well. No one enters grove. Citadel welcomes mage’s return.” The mound fell silent.

  Magius nodded his satisfaction. To the others he said, “Beyond that dense clump of trees, perhaps three to four hours’ journey, is our destination.”

  Kaz clenched his fists, then thought better of it. He had already seen a little of what the magic-user’s servant could do. “That close and you made us sleep here?”

  “I believe you heard the earth elemental mention the grove, did you not?” The mage’s face was quite sober.

  “What of it?”

  “Only I would dare enter the grove during darkness, and that is because I have spent time mastering it. To have led you two through it would have surely have meant your doom.”

  Huma looked off in the direction his friend had pointed. “What is the danger? Can a blade or ax put an end to it?”

  The laughter of the mage held little humor. “There are far more deadlier threats than mere physical ones. Let us say, it would take a strong mind to come out of there in one piece. A strong mind or a simple one, take your pick.”

  Riddles, as Kaz would have said – so Huma thought then. He did not trust challenges that could not be met face-to-face. In many ways, it was another sign of the changes Magius had gone through since their last meeting before the Test.

  “The elemental will guide us and do what it can to protect any of us who might fall off the path. May the gods have mercy on he who does, because the grove will not.”

  It took them only half an hour to reach the edge of the grove. In all his days, Huma could not recall seeing such a thick growth of foliage. Trees, grass, bushes, and even vines grew within and around one another, creating a veritable wall of defense around the domain of Magius. Try as he might, Huma could not fathom the depths.

  Open paths dotted the grove at various points, but tended to twist aside soon after, making it impossible to guess which was the best to take. The earth elemental passed several of these, including a couple which seemed far more inviting than the one the creature finally chose. Kaz eyed the chosen path critically and shook his massive hand.

  “Look at this.” He pointed a clawed hand at the sharp, thorny vines at the entranceway. “Why, the path we just passed was clear and well worn! Surely, this is the wrong path!”

  Magius looked at him with open contempt. “The most attractive lure catches the most flies, my friend. You are welcome to try the other path, if you like. Here, we face a little prick from a plant. There … it could be anything.”

  Shifting uncertainly, Kaz looked from one path to the other. In desperation, he looked to Huma for support.

  Huma, in turn, looked at Magius. The mage was noncommital. Huma stared at the vine-covered path.

  “I believe him, Kaz.”

  “Then I will go where you go.”

  “I’m glad that’s settled.” Magius shook his head in amazement. He lifted his staff and tapped the backside – it looked like a backside, anyway – of the elemental. The living mound shifted forward, the earth before it becoming its form as it moved into the grove. Magius followed without any hesitation. The minotaur glanced at Huma, then followed the mage.

  Huma, alone, took a deep breath, kept his sword ready – for what, he could not say – and stepped onto the path.

  Chapter 9

  The path twisted and turned with amazing regularity. Had not Magius reassured them more than once, Huma would have thought that they were wandering in a circle.

  He did not like the grove, which, even by day, was gloomy and full of shadow. Without the light from the staff, they surely would have strayed from the path.

  Huma ducked away from a thorny vine crisscrossing the trail. After the first sharp sting from one of the countless barbs, he had closed his visor. Still, each thorn scraped at the metal on his body, and in irritation, Huma slashed stalk after stalk. Yet whenever he chanced to turn back, there would be no trace of his handiwork.

  Ahead of him, Kaz cursed and brought his battle ax down upon a prickly bush. The injured minotaur chopped at the plant until only shreds remained. Almost immediately he walked face first into a hanging vine. The sharp blades of the ax came out and cut that vine to ribbons, too.

  The abrupt drop at the next turn caught all of them by surprise. The shifting of the soil as the elemental made its way fooled Magius. His staff came down and the mage, expecting some sort of resistance, toppled forward. Kaz, next, stumbled forward onto the spellcaster. Huma twisted to avoid adding to the ungainly pile, lost his footing in a different place, and fell off the path.

  Huma came to an abrupt halt, thanks to the huge shell of a once-mighty tree. He rubbed the back of his head, which had absorbed part of the shock, and looked up – at nothing.

  There was no path. The trees of the grove dotted the area, Bushes, tall and many years old, filled most of the spaces between the trees. Shadows filled the rest. Deep, dark shadows.

  Huma closed his eyes and opened them again, this time assuring that his gaze was not directed at the shadows. A chill ran through him. What he had seen – he froze. What had he seen? It defied any description he could have given it. He only knew that it was somewhere out there, waiting for him to carelessly turn toward it.

  “Magius! Kaz!” The names echoed back to him. A quiet, mocking
laugh seemed to come from everywhere.

  “Huuuumaaa.”

  At the sound of the voice, Huma reached for his broadsword – only to find his weapon gone. He remembered then that he had been carrying the sword in his hand. Yet he could see no sign of the blade when he searched the ground in the dim light.

  Something tall and misshapen broke away from the other shadows and briefly passed through his vision. His nerves tightened as the mocker laughed once more. Huma pulled out a dagger, hoping that iron would make an impression.

  His view vanished as something literally popped into existence right before him. He thrust hard with the dagger and encountered – mud and dirt. His hand sank into the mire, and he lost his grip on the small blade.

  With wide eyes, he stared up into the ice-blue, crystalline eyes of the elemental.

  Huma fought off a desire to hug the strange creature. The elemental stared down at him and spoke in the same gravel-filled voice it had used when responding to Magius.

  “Follow.” A single, wonderful word to the knight, at that moment. Suddenly, blessedly, his sword was back in his hand.

  The two crystals were sinking swiftly into the depths of the mound. At first, the living mound did not move and the knight thought the creature must be frozen in place. Huma sheathed his sword and leaned against the backside of the elemental’s earthen shell. He decided to dig the elemental out of its quandary. As his hands touched the mound, though, the earth beneath his fingers began to heat up incredibly and Huma quickly pulled them away. Two gleaming objects emerged from the mound.

  Its crystalline eyes in place, the elemental repeated its previous message. “Follow.”

  Huma jumped out of the way as the thing churned forward. Rather than turn as a man might, the elemental merely shifted its face to whichever direction it wished to travel. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and Huma, still staring in wonder, completely ignored the earthen servant’s command again. The mound did not repeat itself. It abruptly shambled up a small rise and promptly vanished.