Dragons of Autumn Twilight

by Margaret Weis

  “Where does the Highbulp live?” Tanis asked, looking down into the dead city below him.

  “Bupu says he lives over there”—Raistlin gestured—“in those buildings on the western side of the cavern.”

  “And who lives in the reconstructed buildings right below us?” Tanis asked.

  “Bosses,” Bupu replied, scowling.

  “How many bosses?”

  “One, and one, and one.” Bupu counted until she had used up all her fingers. “Two,” she said. “Not more than two.”

  “Which could be anything from two hundred to two thousand,” Sturm muttered. “How do we get to see the High-whoop.”

  “Highbulp!” Bupu glared at him. “Highbulp Phudge I. The great.”

  “How do we get to him, without the bosses catching us?”

  In answer, Bupu pointed upward to the rising pot full of draconians. Tanis looked blank, glanced at Sturm who shrugged disgustedly. Bupu sighed in exasperation and turned to Raistlin, obviously considering the others incapable of understanding. “Bosses go up. We go down,” she said.

  Raistlin stared at the lift through the mist. Then he nodded in understanding. “The draconians probably believe that we are trapped up there with no way to get down into the city. If most of the draconians are up above, that would allow us to move safely below.”

  “All right,” Sturm said. “But how in the name of Istar do we get down? Most of us can’t fly!”

  Bupu spread her hands. “Vines!” she said. Seeing everyone’s look of confusion, the gully dwarf stumped over to the edge of the waterfall and pointed down. Thick, green vines hung over the edge of the rocky cliff like giant snakes. The leaves on the vines were torn, tattered, and, in some places, stripped off entirely, but the vines themselves appeared thick and tough, even if they were slippery.

  Goldmoon, unusually pale, crept toward the edge, peered over, and backed away hurriedly. It was a five-hundred-foot drop straight down to a rubble-strewn cobblestone street. Riverwind put his arm around her, comfortingly.

  “I’ve climbed worse,” Caramon said complacently.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” said Flint. “But anything’s better than sliding down a sewer.” Grabbing hold of the vine, he swung himself over the ledge and began to inch slowly down hand over hand. “It’s not bad,” he shouted up.

  Tasslehoff slid down a vine after Flint, traveling rapidly and with such skill that he received a grunt of approbation from Bupu.

  The gully dwarf turned to look at Raistlin, pointing at his long, flowing robes and frowning. The mage smiled at her reassuringly. Standing on the edge of the cliff, he said softly, “Pveathrfall.” The crystal ball on top of his staff flared and Raistlin leaped off the edge of the cliff, disappearing into the mist below. Bupu shrieked. Tanis caught her, fearing the adoring gully dwarf might throw herself over.

  “He’ll be fine,” the half-elf assured her, feeling a flash of pity when he saw the look of genuine anguish on her face. “He is magi,” he said. “Magic. You know.”

  Bupu obviously did not know because she stared at Tanis suspiciously, threw her bag around her neck, grabbed hold of a vine, and began scrabbling down the slippery rock. The rest of the companions were preparing to follow when Goldmoon whispered brokenly, “I can’t.”

  Riverwind took her hands. “Kan-toka,” he said softly, “it will be all right. You heard what the dwarf said. Just don’t look down.”

  Goldmoon shook her head, her chin quivering. “There must be another way,” she said stubbornly. “We will search for it!”

  “What’s the problem?” Tanis asked. “We should hurry—”

  “She’s afraid of heights,” Riverwind said.

  Goldmoon shoved him away. “How dare you tell him that!” she shouted, her face flushed with anger.

  Riverwind stared at her coldly. “Why not?” he said, his voice grating. “He’s not your subject. You can let him know you’re human, that you have human frailties. You have only one subject to impress now, Chieftain, and that is me!”

  If Riverwind had stabbed her, he could have inflicted no more terrible pain. The color drained from Goldmoon’s lips. Her eyes grew wide and staring, like the eyes of a corpse. “Please secure the staff on my back,” she said to Tanis.

  “Goldmoon, he didn’t mean—” he began.

  “Do as I command!” she ordered curtly, her blue eyes blazing in anger.

  Tanis, sighing, tied the staff to her back with a length of rope. Goldmoon did not even glance at Riverwind. When the staff was fastened tightly, she started toward the edge of the cliff. Sturm jumped in front of her.

  “Allow me to go down the vine ahead of you,” he said. “If you slip—”

  “If I slip and fall, you’d fall with me. The only thing we’d accomplish would be to die together,” she snapped. Leaning down, she took a firm grip on the vine and swung herself over the edge. Almost immediately, her sweating hands slipped. Tanis’s breath caught in his throat. Sturm lunged forward, though he knew there wasn’t anything he could do. Riverwind stood watching, not a sign of emotion on his face. Goldmoon clutched frantically at the vines and thick leaves. She caught hold and clung to them tightly, unable to breathe, unwilling to move. She pressed her face against the wet leaves, shuddering, her eyes closed to block out the sight of the terrifying drop to the ground below. Sturm went over the edge and climbed down to her.

  “Leave me alone,” Goldmoon said to him through clenched teeth. She drew a trembling breath, cast a proud, defiant glance at Riverwind, then began to lower herself down the vine.

  Sturm stayed near her, keeping an eye on her, as he skillfully climbed down the cliff face. Tanis, standing next to Riverwind, wanted to say something to the Plainsman but feared to do more harm. Saying nothing, therefore, he went over the edge. Riverwind followed silently.

  The half-elf found the climb easy, though he slipped the last few feet, landing in an inch of water. Raistlin, he noticed, was shivering with the cold, his cough worsening in the damp air. Several gully dwarves stood around the mage, staring at him with admiring eyes. Tanis wondered how long the charm spell would last.

  Goldmoon leaned against the wall, shaking. She did not look at Riverwind as he reached the ground and moved away from her, his face still expressionless.

  “Where are we?” Tanis shouted above the noise of the waterfall. The mist was so thick he couldn’t see anything except broken columns, overgrown with vines and fungus.

  “Great Plaza that way.” Bupu urgently jabbed her grubby finger toward the west. “Come. You follow. Go see Highbulp!”

  She started off. Tanis reached out his hand and caught hold of her, dragging her to a stop. She glared at him, deeply offended. The half-elf removed his hand. “Please. Just listen a moment! What about the dragon? Where’s the dragon?”

  Bupu’s eyes widened. “You want dragon?” she asked.

  “No!” yelled Tanis. “We don’t want the dragon. But we need to know if the dragon comes into this part of the city—” He felt Sturm’s hand on his shoulder and gave up. “Forget it. Never mind,” he said wearily. “Go on.”

  Bupu regarded Raistlin with deep sympathy for having to put up with these insane people, then she took the mage’s hand and trotted off down the street to the west, the other gully dwarves trailing along behind. Half-deafened by the thundering noise of the waterfall, the companions waded after, glancing about them uneasily, dark windows loomed above them, dark doorways threatened. At each moment, they expected scaly, armored draconians to appear. But the gully dwarves did not seem concerned. They sloshed along the street, keeping as close to Raistlin as possible, and jabbering in their uncouth language.

  Eventually the sounds of the waterfall faded in the distance. The mist continued to swirl around them, however, and the silence of the dead city was oppressive. Dark water gushed and gurgled past their feet along the cobblestone riverbed. Suddenly the buildings came to an end and the street opened into a huge, circular plaza. Through the water they co
uld see the remnants in the plaza of flagstone paving in an intricate sunburst design. In the center of the plaza, the river was joined by another stream rushing in from the north. They formed a small whirlpool as the waters met and swirled before joining and continuing west between another group of tumble-down buildings.

  Here, light streamed into the plaza from a crack in the cavern roof hundreds of feet above, illuminating the ghostly mists, dancing off the surface of the water whenever the mists parted.

  “Other side Great Plaza,” Bupu pointed.

  The companions came to a halt in the shadows of the ruined buildings. All of them had the same thought: The plaza was over one hundred feet across without a scrap of shelter. Once they ventured out, there would be no hiding.

  Bupu, trotting along without concern, suddenly realized no one was following her except other gully dwarves. She looked back, irritated at the delay. “You come, Highbulp this way.”

  “Look!” Goldmoon grasped Tanis’s arm.

  On the other side of the great flagstone plaza were great, tall marble columns that supported a stone roof. The columns were cracked and shattered, letting the roof sag. The mists parted and Tanis caught a glimpse of a courtyard behind the columns. Dark forms of tall, domed buildings were visible beyond the courtyard. Then the mists closed around them. Though now sunk into degradation and ruin, this structure must have once been the most magnificent in Xak Tsaroth.

  “The Royal Palace,” Raistlin confirmed, coughing.

  “Shhhh!” Goldmoon shook Tanis’s arm. “Can’t you see? No, wait—”

  The mists flowed in front of the pillars. For a moment the companions could not see anything. Then the fog swirled away. The companions shrank back into the dark doorway. The gully dwarves came to a skidding halt in the plaza and, whirling around, raced back to cower behind Raistlin.

  Bupu peered at Tanis from under the mage’s sleeve. “That dragon,” she said. “You want?”

  It was the dragon.

  Sleek and shining black, her leathery wings folded at her side, Khisanth slithered out from under the roof, ducking her head to fit beneath the sagging stone facade. Her clawed front feet clicked on the marble stairs as she stopped and stared into the floating mist with her bright red eyes. Her back legs and heavy reptilian tail were not visible, the dragon’s body extending thirty feet or more back into the courtyard. A cringing draconian walked beside her, the two apparently deep in conversation.

  Khisanth was angry. The draconian had brought her disturbing news—it was impossible that any of the strangers could have survived her attack at the well! But now the captain of her guard reported strangers in the city! Strangers who attacked her forces with skill and daring, strangers bearing a brown staff whose description was known to every draconian serving in this part of the Ansalon continent.

  “I cannot believe this report! None could have escaped me.” Khisanth’s voice was soft, almost purring, yet the draconian trembled as he heard it. “The staff was not with them. I would have sensed its presence. You say these intruders are still above, in the upper chambers? Are you certain?”

  The draconian gulped and nodded. “There is no way down, royal one, except the lift.”

  “There are other ways, you lizard,” Khisanth sneered. “These miserable gully dwarves crawl around the place like parasites. The intruders have the staff, and they are trying to get down into the city. That means only one thing—they are after the Disks! How could they have learned of them?” The dragon snaked her head around and up and down as if she could see those who threatened her plans through the blinding mists. But the mists swirled past, thicker than ever.

  Khisanth snarled in irritation. “The staff! That miserable staff! Verminaard should have foreseen this with those clerical powers he touts so highly, then it could have been destroyed. But, no, he is busy with his war while I must rot here in this dank tomb of a city.” Khisanth gnawed a talon as she pondered.

  “You could destroy the Disks,” the draconian suggested, greatly daring.

  “Fool, don’t you think we’ve tried?” Khisanth muttered. She lifted her head. “No, it is far too dangerous to stay here longer. If these intruders know of the secret, others must also. The Disks should be removed to a safe place. Inform Lord Verminaard that I am leaving Xak Tsaroth. I will join him in Pax Tharkas and I will bring the intruders with me for questioning.”

  “Inform Lord Verminaard?” the draconian asked, shocked.

  “Very well,” Khisanth responded sarcastically. “If you insist on the charade, ask my Lord’s permission. I suppose you have sent most of the troops up to the top?”

  “Yes, royal one.” The draconian bowed.

  Khisanth considered the matter. “Perhaps you are not such an idiot after all,” she mused. “I can handle things below. Concentrate your search in the upper parts of the city. When you find these intruders, bring them straight to me. Do not hurt them any more than necessary to subdue them. And be careful of that staff!”

  The draconian fell to its knees before the dragon, who sniffed in derision and crept back into the dark shadows out of which she had come.

  The draconian ran down the stairs where it was joined by several more creatures who appeared out of the mist. After a brief, muffled exchange in their own language, the draconians started up the north street. They walked nonchalantly, laughing at some private joke, and soon vanished into the mist.

  “They’re not worried, are they?” Sturm said.

  “No,” Tanis agreed grimly. “They think they’ve got us.”

  “Let’s face it, Tanis. They’re right,” Sturm said. “This plan we’ve been discussing has one major flaw. If we sneak in without the dragon knowing, and if we get the Disks—we still have to get out of this godforsaken city with draconians crawling all over the upper levels.”

  “I asked you before and I’ll ask you now,” Tanis said. “Have you got a better plan?”

  “I’ve got a better plan,” Caramon said gruffly. “No disrespect, Tanis, but we all know how elves feel about fighting.” The big man gestured toward the palace. “That’s obviously where the dragon lives. Let’s lure it out as we planned, only this time we’ll fight it, not creep around its lair like thieves. When the dragon’s disposed of, then we can get the Disks.”

  “My dear brother,” Raistlin whispered, “your strength lies in your sword-arm, not in your mind. Tanis is wise, as the knight said when we started on this little adventure. You would do well to pay attention to him. What do you know of dragons, my brother? You have seen the effects of its deadly breath.” Raistlin was overcome by a fit of coughing. He dragged a soft cloth out from the sleeve of his robe. Tanis saw that the cloth was stained with blood.

  After a moment, Raistlin continued. “You could defend yourself against that, perhaps, and against the sharp claws and fangs, and the slashing tail, which can knock down those pillars. But what will you use, dear brother, against her magic? Dragons are the most ancient of magic-users. She could charm you as I have charmed my little friend. She could put you to sleep with a word, then murder you while you dreamed.”

  “All right,” Caramon muttered, chagrined. “I didn’t know any of that. Damn it, who does know anything about these creatures!”

  “There is much lore on the dragons in Solamnia,” Sturm said softly.

  He wants to fight the dragon, too, Tanis realized. He is thinking of Huma, the perfect knight, called Dragonbane.

  Bupu tugged on Raistlin’s robe. “Come. You go. No more bosses. No more dragon.” She and the other gully dwarves started splashing across the flagstone plaza.

  “Well?” Tanis said, looking at the two warriors.

  “It seems we have no choice,” Sturm said stiffly. “We do not face the enemy, we hide behind gully dwarves! Sooner or later a time must come when we face these monsters!” He spun on his heel and walked off, his back straight, his moustaches bristling. The companions followed.

  “Maybe we’re worrying needlessly.” Tanis scratched
his beard, glancing back at the palace that was now obscured by the mist. “Perhaps this is the only dragon left in Krynn—one that survived the Age of Dreams.”

  Raistlin’s lips twisted. “Remember the stars, Tanis,” he murmured. “The Queen of Darkness has returned. Recall the words of the Canticle: ‘swarm of her shrieking hosts.’ Her hosts were dragons, according to the ancient ones. She has returned and her hosts have come with her.”

  “This way!” Bupu clutched at Raistlin, pointing down a street branching off to the north. “This home!”

  “At least it’s dry,” Flint grumbled. Turning right, they left the river behind them. Mist closed in around the companions as they entered another nest of ruined buildings. This section of town must have been the poorer part of the city of Xak Tsaroth, even in its glory days—the buildings were in the last stages of decay and collapse. The gully dwarves began whooping and hollering as they ran down the street. Sturm looked at Tanis in alarm at the noise.

  “Can’t you get them to be quieter?” Tanis asked Bupu. “So the draconians, er, bosses won’t find us.”

  “Pooh!” She shrugged. “No bosses. They not come here. Afraid of the great Highbulp.”

  Tanis had his doubts about that, but, glancing around, he couldn’t see any signs of the draconians. From what he had observed, the lizardlike men seemed to lead a well-ordered, militaristic life. By contrast, the streets in this part of town were cluttered with trash and filth. The disreputable buildings erupted with gully dwarves. Males, females, and dirty, ragged children stared at them curiously as they walked down the street. Bupu and the other spellbound gully dwarves swarmed around Raistlin, practically carrying him.

  The draconians were undeniably smart, Tanis thought. They allowed their slaves to live their private lives in peace—so long as they didn’t stir up trouble. A good idea, considering that gully dwarves outnumbered draconians about ten to one. Though they were basically cowards, gully dwarves had a reputation as very nasty fighters when backed into a corner.

  Bupu brought the group to a halt in front of one of the darkest, dingiest, filthiest alleys Tanis had ever seen. A foul mist flowed out from it. The buildings leaned over, holding each other up like drunks stumbling out of a tavern. As he watched, small dark creatures skittered out of the alley and gully dwarf children began chasing after them.