The Dragonlance was heavy, as was to be expected, but Huma did not care about that now. He was overwhelmed that this had come to him, the least of knights. That Paladine should so bless him was a miracle in itself and, when he had brought the lance to earth, he went to his knees and gave thanks. The Dragonlance seemed to glow even brighter.
When at last his initial awe had passed, he noted the other lances that decorated the walls around him. That he had somehow missed them perplexed him, but he gave thanks that again Paladine had foreseen things, for one lance certainly would not be enough. He counted twenty total, nineteen like his own and one smaller one that was no less brilliant and must, he decided, be for footsoldiers.
One by one, he removed the lances from their resting places, taking each into his hands with reverence. Here were tools with which Krynn could be rid of the Dragonqueen; there should be no end of volunteers.
Oddly, there seemed to be no other exit than the doorway he had come through earlier. Huma wondered how he was going to get the lances out of the mountain and back to Solamnia. Had he come this far to fail because of an obstruction so relatively minor?
Gazing around the chamber, his eyes fell upon the figure of the mounted knight. It was looking slightly off to the side and upward—as if it sought something near one of the far corners of the ceiling. So intense was the image that Huma could not help but turn and look the same direction.
He saw nothing at first. Then, Huma spied the nearly invisible outline of a trap door. Hurrying over to investigate, the knight discovered hand and footholds in the wall below the trap door. They were only indentations, impossible to make out unless one stood directly in front of them.
Huma turned and stared anxiously at the lances he had gathered together. He hated leaving them here, but he knew that he required assistance if he was to get even one of them out of this chamber. He needed Kaz and Magius.
Gingerly, he began his climb. It was not as difficult as he had expected and he was soon near the ceiling. Opening the door, however, proved to be difficult, for Huma was forced to lean back precariously in order to push properly. The muscles strained in the hand that held him back from a deadly plunge. Huma had been forced to remove his gauntlets for a better grip and now was paying for that as the skin slowly tore from his fingertips.
When the door was finally open, he let out a sigh of relief. Whoever had designed this had purposely made it difficult for reasons Huma doubted he could ever guess. Still, what mattered was that the way out was now open.
He reached up and felt a cool breeze dance through his fingers. Moving his hand around he discovered that something soft, perhaps snow, covered the ground. Gripping the sides of the hole, Huma pulled himself upward.
It was daylight. No rain. No cloud cover. The sun lit the mountainside, and Huma hung there, suspended halfway in the ground, as he drank in the view. How long had it been since he had really seen the sun? Huma could no longer remember. It was a magnificent sight and a sign, perhaps, that the tide had turned at last.
A thin layer of snow did indeed cover the ground. There were no tracks in the snow around him, so he was alone unless something flew above him. The skies were clear, though. Clear and blue. He had forgotten the heavens were blue.
Huma pulled himself from the unseen hole and then took care to study the site. The knight located a large rock nearby and placed it near the hole as a marker.
“I hoped you would succeed; I prayed you would succeed. Had you not, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Gwyneth!” The name burst from his lips even as he whirled.
She was clad in a simple cloak of silver hue, her hair fluttering. The young woman who had seen to his recovery in the tent looked nothing like this stately—priestess? What was her part in all this?
“I have indeed succeeded, Gwyneth! Below our very feet lay the weapons that will rid this world of the Dragonqueen!”
She smiled at his enthusiasm and stepped forward. Her feet seemed to barely touch the snowy ground, and Huma noted then that she left no trace of any path.
“Tell me about it.”
He tried to, how he tried to, but the words that tumbled from his mouth were too weak, too complicated, too simple for what he was trying to describe. It all sounded so improbable as he related his quest to Gwyneth. Had he really undergone all that? How had the ancient terror called Wyrmfather been turned into a gleaming metal artifact several times the size of the knight? Had the vision in the chamber of the Dragonlance been real or the product of his own delusion?
Gwyneth took it all in, her face impassive save for an unidentifiable look in her eyes as she observed Huma. When he was finished, she nodded sagely and said, “From the moment I first saw you, I saw greatness. I saw in you what so many others before you did not have. You truly care about the folk of Krynn. That is where the others have failed. They cared, but it was little compared to their personal ambitions.”
Huma took her by the arms and held her. “Will you vanish now, like the gray man and the smith?”
“I will, for a time. You must locate your companions. When you return, another will be waiting for you. One whom you have met and who will be of aid in the coming days.”
“And Kaz and Magius?”
“Near.” She smiled. “I am surprised that they have tolerated one another this long.”
“I must find them,” Huma decided suddenly. There was so much to be done. He hated to leave Gwyneth, even though they would meet again. Wouldn’t they?
An uneasy look came into her eyes, and she squirmed free from his grasp. The smile was still in place, but it grew weaker, more of a mask or defense. “Your friends are that way.” She pointed to the east. “You had best go to them now. They are becoming anxious for you.”
She turned from him and stepped quickly and lightly away. Huma almost followed, but he cared enough for her to respect her wishes in this matter. That he might never see her again tore at him, but he let her go and turned his back.
Eastward, Huma made his way through the soft snow. The cloud cover, he noticed, had not dispersed. It merely avoided this peak.
He had walked for no more than ten minutes when he heard the voice. There was no mistaking it. It was Kaz, angered. The knight’s pace picked up. Only one person would anger the minotaur so.
“If only I had done what I had desired and ended your miserable existence there and then. You have no honor, no conscience.” The minotaur stood tall. His fists emphasized each point as he battered the air as if it were the object of his reprimand.
Magius sat with odd quietude on a large rock, his head in his hands, unmoving, as the minotaur continued to berate him. Huma tensed as he stepped toward the pair.
It was Magius who sensed his approach. The mage’s face was pale and drawn, his hair radiating wildly about his head. His eyes had sunken in. They widened as he raised his head, and his numbed mind finally recognized the figure of his only friend.
“Huma!”
“What?” Kaz jumped at the sudden shout. He saw the direction of the magic-user’s gaze and turned. The blood-red look in his eyes vanished, and a toothy grin appeared on his bovine face. The anger of a moment before was temporarily forgotten. “Huma!”
As the minotaur stepped forward, Magius seemed to curl into himself. The mage stared pitifully in Huma’s direction, but made no move to join Kaz in greeting their lost comrade.
The minotaur almost crushed Huma in a bear hug. Kaz looked down at him, smiling all the time, then suddenly lifted the hapless knight off the ground and spun him around. Huma felt like an infant in the hands of the huge man-beast.
“Where have you been? I sought you out, but could not find the path you had taken. I searched again and again calling to you, but only the wind and that infernal cry responded. Sarg—Gods! I finally thought you were dead.” He put Huma down. Kaz turned on Magius, who stepped back as if struck. “When I told that one what had happened, he fairly shouted with glee at first.”
; “WHAT?” Huma gazed over at Magius. His childhood friend would not look at him.
Kaz thrust a finger at the knight. “Do you know why you were so important to him? It was not your friendship. It was not your skills. His mad vision had convinced him that there was indeed a gift from Paladine somewhere here but that he would die if he tried to claim it. So he intended to send you in his place. You would have taken the attack that would have killed him! Your life was expendable!” The angry warrior laughed coldly. “Can you believe it? He claimed a knight in sun-drenched armor and bearing a lance of incredible power would run him through; did you ever hear such nonsense?
“When he thought you were dead, he believed the vision had been altered forever. He was confident that he would almost immediately find this great secret and live to use it in your memory and his glory.”
Kaz paused to catch his breath, and Huma chose that moment to step around the minotaur and confront Magius. The mage looked up at him, almost fearfully, and moved back a step. Huma reached out a hand, but Magius refused to take it.
The minotaur came up behind Huma. “When we found no path or cavern, he started to fall apart. I could have never believed this one could have a conscience. I suppose I helped, for I reminded him every hour of every day about what he had done. How you had talked of him as a good friend.”
Huma leaned down. His voice was soft. “Magius. There is nothing to be fearful of. I do not hate you for what you did. That was not you; it was never you.”
The shadow of the minotaur covered them both. Magius turned away.
“What are you saying, Huma?” the minotaur demanded. “This one betrayed you, had planned on betraying you since before you and I met. All for some utter, senseless madness!”
“You weren’t there!” Huma snapped. “I’ve heard tales of how real the Tests are. Sometimes they exist only in the mind; sometimes they are completely and terribly existent. In either case, the magic-user who is being tested can die.”
“Magius,” Huma whispered to his conscience-stricken friend. The spellcaster seemed to be on the edge of collapse. It must have seemed that the knight’s ghost had come back to haunt the one who had betrayed him. “Magius. Forget the vision. You were right about the mountain. I’ve found what we were searching for!”
The mage’s eyes widened and narrowed, then he began to calm down. “You found it?”
“I did. I faced the challenges in the mountain and passed.”
“What’s that you’re talking about?” roared Kaz. “What challenges?”
Huma briefly described what had taken place within the mountain. The story of Wyrmfather brought a strange light to the eyes of Magius, who, stuttering, confessed he had made a study of the design of the statuette years before, only to come up with nothing more than a few scraps of legend. The treachery of Rennard shook both listeners. Magius had grown up with Huma and often had wondered about the knight’s father.
“By my ancestors twenty-five generations back! Would that I had been there when you fought the father of all dragons. Such a battle, and I missed it!” The minotaur shook his head.
The knight grimaced. “It was more a battle for survival than anything else. Luck had much to do with it.”
“I think not. I do not see luck as a factor in these challenges. How many would have taken such action? How many would have run or stood trembling before the dragon? Many minotaurs would have thought it folly.”
Magius tugged at Huma’s arm, almost as a small child might do. “The Dragonlance? You have it with you? I have to see it!”
A solid, clawed fist materialized before the spellcaster’s face. “You’ll see nothing!”
Huma dared the minotaur’s wrath by pushing the fist down. Kaz glared at Huma, then forced himself under control.
“That is what I need your help for now,” Huma told them both. “Another person may be waiting to aid us, but I’ll need your help to pull the lances from the chamber. All but one are more than twice your height, Kaz. It will be difficult.”
“We shall do it, though, and this vermin here will help.”
Magius paled, but he stood his ground. “I will do every bit as much work as you—most likely more.”
The wind whipped the minotaur’s mane around his face, giving him a particularly wild look. “That remains to be seen, mage.”
“Enough!” Huma shouted. He would drag the lances out himself if need be. “If you are coming, do so, or stay here and let the snows eventually cover you!”
He stalked away. A moment later, the other two followed quickly and without comment.
He had marked the spot as well as he could. The rock was where he had left it and he stepped over it and reached down. Kaz and Magius looked on in curiosity, especially when Huma’s hand found only hard earth and not the hole that should have been there.
“What’s the matter?” Kaz asked.
“I can’t find it! I can’t find it!”
The others fell to their knees and began searching the ground.
“There is no need to search further,” a voice suddenly said. “The Dragonlances are safe and ready for their journey out into the world.”
The voice came from above them. A great wind buffeted the trio, forcing them to step back. The voice apologized and the great wings slowed as the majestic dragon came to stop on a nearby outcropping.
“I heard the summons,” said the same silver dragon who had given aid to Huma and Kaz, what seemed so long ago. “The lances are ready, awaiting us in a safe place.” She gazed—fondly?—at the knight. “The next step in their journey, Huma, is up to you.”
CHAPTER 22
“You? Gwyneth sent for you?”
The silver dragon’s head bobbed in acknowledgment. “This was the area of my birth, long ago. I still come here; it is part of my duty, part of my destiny to stand watch here, waiting for the day the Dragonlances will be revealed to the world.”
“How did you fare against the darkness?” Huma asked. He remembered the dragons as they waited for the magical blackness to envelop them. At that time, he had wondered whether they would live or die.
“We were vanquished.” There was very human bitterness in her voice. “It was more than just the work of the renegades. We could feel the presence of the Black Robes, though they were reluctant to be involved, for some reason, and something else. Something so malevolent that two of our number died there and then, merely because of its presence. We suspected and by the time we had lost, we knew.” She hesitated. “Takhisis has come to Krynn itself.”
They were all stunned. The minotaur’s mouth worked, but no sound emerged. Magius was shaking his head again and again, as if he could deny it. Huma just stood there, the stony look on his face masking well the fear and anguish he felt. The Dragonqueen on Krynn—hope, it would appear, was lost.
Or was it? Immediately, Huma remembered the vision of the platinum knight who had vanquished the darkness with the glory of the lance.
He cut off any comments by stating flatly, “This means nothing. We have the Dragonlances. Hope remains.”
Kaz shook his head while Magius simply absorbed every word. The dragon looked on in satisfaction. She seemed quite pleased with Huma’s reactions.
The wind was beginning to pick up, and neither Huma nor his companions had any intention of staying on the mountain any longer than necessary. They needed food and rest.
Huma asked the silver dragon, “Where are the lances?”
“They are far down below with your horses. I could carry them all, perhaps, but it would leave me barely able to maneuver, much less keep aloft. It would be best if I remain unhindered should we be attacked en route.”
A thought occurred to Huma. The knight turned to his companions. “Kaz and Magius, you will take the horses. I would like to trust the two of you to work together. Is that possible?”
Kaz glowered at the mage, who, having been relieved of his guilt, was rapidly returning to his former arrogance and thus returned the glare with e
qual dislike. They would work together, though, because this goal far transcended their pettiness. Satisfied, Huma continued.
“There was a saddle on the dragon statue in the chamber of the lances,” he told the dragon. “It enabled the rider to maintain control of his weapon. I would like to create a makeshift version of that saddle. Then, if you permit, I can ride upon your back, a Dragonlance ready should we be attacked.”
She raised her head and seemed to consider. Finally, the silver dragon nodded. “An excellent thought. I must tell you that when I first arrived in the mountains, I ran across one of the dreadwolves of Galan Dracos and immediately slew it, but rest assured that Galan Dracos will send his lackey, the warlord Crynus, to deal with you.” She extended her lengthy talons. “I would not dislike a second confrontation with that obscenity called Charr. Too many of my kind have fallen to that black dragon and his warlord companion.”
That said, the silver dragon spread her wings, rose into the air as briefly and gently as possible, and then dropped to a point low enough so that she was almost eye level with the trio. “Climb aboard. I can take the three of you to the lances. Be prepared for many turns, however. The winds can be fierce in the mountains.”
When they were securely upon her back, the leviathan spread her wings again and launched herself into the sky. At first, the trio saw the earth far below rushing up to meet them, then it seemed to be pulled back, as the silver dragon rose higher until she was able to maintain a proper balance.
Huma stared at the peak they were leaving. So much had happened there that he would never fully understand. He had not even climbed to the top, as he had first thought. At least a full quarter of the mighty giant still loomed above them.
The Legend of Huma Page 25