The Dragonqueen continued screaming and her wings thrashed back and forth. The mounting for the Dragonlance bent considerably. Huma tried in vain to steady the lance. The back end of the weapon suddenly shot upward, striking him soundly in the side of the head. Huma fell back, dazed and bleeding.
He heard something snap.
With gargantuan effort, he pulled himself forward—and found only splinters remained of the mounting. Takhisis had stripped him of the lance.
Where was she?
“Hu—uma.”
“Gwyneth!” He leaned forward. She was breathing irregularly and each movement of her mouth dripped with blood.
“She—I—down there. I—cannot—”
Her wings froze in midmotion.
They began plummeting toward the mountainside. He screamed her name once before they hit. Then he felt his body thrown from the saddle, and all was night.
When he awoke, the world was red. Blood. Blood and pain. For hours, it seemed, he just lay there. His eyes were stinging red and his vision was bleary. All he could really see were shapes. The winds still howled.
There was nothing he could do about the pain. It coursed through his body. His wounded leg was numb.
With great effort, Huma raised himself to a sitting position.
Huma attempted to rise then, but he only fell over, face first, into the cool earth of the mountainside. His mind again blazed with pain.
He crawled now. He saw no sign of Gwyneth or the Dragonqueen. The knight managed to pull himself along, inch by inch.
As he struggled, something near the top of the mountain caught his attention.
A hand. A human hand.
He was not quite sure where the reserves of energy came from, but Huma succeeded in pulling himself up toward the figure lying near an outcropping.
“Gwyneth.”
She had shifted to her human form. The wounds that covered her natural form were no less terrible. One arm lay twisted beneath her. Her face was now as pale as her silvery hair. Her breath came in short, rasping shudders. Time and again, she twitched uncontrollably and small sounds of pain, akin to what an animal might make, escaped her cracked and bleeding lips. There were bleeding cuts and dark bruises all over her body. It was a marvel that she lived.
His mouth open in a soundless cry, Huma dragged himself to her side, ignoring his raw, bloody hands and the agony that jolted him continuously from within.
When he reached her, he finally noticed that, with her good arm, she clutched the footman’s Dragonlance as if it were life itself. Even as torn and battered as she was, Gwyneth had saved the smaller Dragonlance, knowing that it was the only weapon that could save them if the Dragonqueen returned.
He repeated Gwyneth’s name.
Something roared. Gwyneth’s eyes opened wide and she stared straight up.
“Huma?”
“Rest. Kaz or someone will come.”
“No!” Her eyes teared. “Takhisis! You mustn’t let her go free!”
The knight looked up. Something thrashed beyond the rise. Something huge and in terrible pain. The roar came again.
“She—” Gwyneth coughed up blood. “Sooner or later, she will overcome the Dragonlance. You have to do—do something before she does.”
“What can I do?” Huma could barely prop himself up.
“Take this.” She indicated the smaller Dragonlance. “I—I managed to save it.” Gwyneth suddenly clutched at him. “Are you hurt badly? Let me help you!”
“Forget me. Forget the Dragonqueen. What is happening to you? Why are you human? Are you healing yourself?”
“It—it doesn’t matter. The fall only—hastened the damage. I only thank Paladine that y—you are still alive.”
“Don’t talk anymore.”
She couldn’t be dying, Huma thought in horror.
I—I can save her, mortal!
The wind suddenly seemed frigid. Huma stood silently as the words sank in. How? he thought.
Sh—sh—the pain! She is not beyond me yet! Release me fro—from this agony and I will gladly restore you both! I swear it by—by the beyond! I swear it, highgod!
Huma looked down to see Gwyneth looking up at him intently. Her breathing was faint.
“What is it?”
“She offers us—you—life.”
“In return for what?”
He hesitated. “Her release.”
“Hu—” Gwyneth coughed uncontrollably. She closed her eyes. For a moment, the knight was afraid she was gone. She opened her eyes again, though, and fixed her gaze on him. “You cannot kill her—that is not possible. But you cannot release her, either. All Krynn will suffer for her torment. My life is not—not worth that.” She paused. The strain of speaking was using up what little strength she had left.
Huma draped her with his body so that the harsh wind did not strike her full force. “I won’t let you die.”
“You don’t have any choice.” She smiled faintly.
“You can’t,” Huma stammered, then finally spoke the words he had long ago admitted to himself. “I love you. I am ashamed I could not say it before. I will not lose you.”
Her face became radiant despite the fearsome wounds.
“I want—want—you to remember me as I am now—now, for this is truly me. I first truly lived as a human.” She took a deep breath. “I loved as a human.”
Her hand slipped from him. “I will die as a human—knowing at last that you—” Gwyneth closed her eyes as pain wracked her. Huma held her as she quivered. “—you—”
The shaking subsided. The knight loosened his hold. Gwyneth’s eyes were closed and in her deathly visage there was now an odd serenity.
“Gwyneth?”
Moortaal! It isss not too late!
Huma lowered her head.
A tail flickered briefly in sight and then vanished again behind the rise. The sky was dark once more. The portal, Takhisis’s gateway to and from the Abyss, had dwindled to a mere shadow of its former sinister majesty—yet it was still there.
Seizing hold of the Dragonlance, Huma began to drag himself toward the rise. His actions were involuntary; his mind contained only vague thoughts about what might have been. He no longer existed in the present. He was not even aware that he had reached the rise until he found himself looking at the Dragonqueen.
She lay some distance below in a crater shaped by her fall.
Huma lay there for a long time. Breath came hard to him now, and he realized that his ribs must be broken. The scene faded in and out, again and again.
Somehow, he managed to pull the Dragonlance up to the top of the ridge and force it over, point first. The chill wind no longer bothered him. It only served to clear his mind for the purpose at hand.
What—are you doing?
The Dragonqueen’s thoughts suddenly flickered into his head. He was so startled, he nearly dropped the lance over the side. Pulling it back, he used it to bring himself to a wobbly standing position.
The Dragonlance readied like a spear, Huma stared down at the thrashing goddess.
She lay on her back, her wings folded awkwardly behind her. The four remaining heads snapped wildly at the severed Dragonlance still embedded in her form. The weapon sparked each time the heads came near, and again and again they pulled away in pain.
“Hear me,” said Huma.
At first, there was only the thrashing and the horrible cries of pain and fury.
“Hear me,” he repeated.
Mortal … what is it you want?
The huge dragon attempted to rise. And failed.
“You are beaten, Takhisis, Dragonqueen.”
I am not! I cannot be!
“Your armies are being routed. Your renegades are dead or scattered. The Conclave will hunt them down. Such will be watched more closely in the future. There will never again be another Galan Dracos.”
More time passed. The Dragonqueen was visibly struggling for control.
What do you want, mortal?
“The balance must be maintained. Without good, evil cannot grow. Without evil, good stagnates. I know I cannot kill you.”
Release me, then!
Huma stumbled back at the intensity of the moment. The Dragonlance almost slipped from his grasp.
“First, you must surrender.”
The wind had ceased. The sky was strangely clear. Sunlight warmed Huma’s body.
The portal was nearly nonexistent.
The form of the Dragonqueen had become very still. She almost seemed—dead. Huma pulled the lance away from the edge and leaned over.
A dragon’s head, emerald green, shot up. Huma pulled back too late.
A thick, hissing stream of noxious, green gas shot forth, enveloping him before he could even think. He fell forward and this time his grip on the lance loosened completely. It clattered down the ridge. The hapless knight also fell, toward the Dragonqueen.
He screamed with each bounce against the rock-strewn side of the crater.
If he had been in pain before, now he learned the meaning of agony. He screamed and screamed, but he did not die.
You still live! What does it take to kill you? You are only mortal!
Despite the pain, then, he laughed.
“I belong to Paladine. I belong to Gwyneth. Neither will ever let you have me.”
Huma pulled himself upward. He coughed and his hands shook. He had inhaled too much of the gas. The fall had wracked his body and it was all Huma could do to keep himself sitting up, so violently did his head swim. He knew that despite his words, he did not have much time left.
“They are coming, Takhisis.”
Who?
“The other Dragonlances. More than a hundred. A hundred times the pain and agony. I offered you a chance. They will not be so willing. You know that.”
They cannot kill me!
“They can give you eternal suffering.”
They cannot! The balance! You spoke of it!
“What do they care about the balance? So much better to have peace; that is what they will say.”
A long pause. Huma started to close his eyes, then fought to open them yet one more time.
“You will never free yourself before they arrive. Even if I die, they will still have you. A goddess at the mercy of mortals.”
What do you want?
It was evidently a strain for her to continue. Only one head still stared in Huma’s direction. The other three wavered uncontrollably.
“Withdraw from Krynn.”
I—
“Withdraw now!”
Very well
“Withdraw your dragons as well. Never again must they come to Krynn. Take them with you.”
A long pause.
“Swear to it,” he added.
She hesitated.
I do.
“I want to hear you swear by that you hold most holy.”
Both witnessed the single dragon flying overhead and heard the call of its rider, a voice familiar to Huma.
Kaz. His voice was shaky and the dragon was visibly weary, but they circled above, ready to close.
“Your time is short, Queen.”
I swear that I shall withdr—withdraw—she writhed in pain and for one moment Huma thought he might be crushed beneath her form—withdraw from Krynn along with my children for so long as the world is whole. So do I swear by—
She said it. By the beyond. By the highgod.
Bolt had landed nearby, vigilant. Kaz, disregarding the looming presence of the foul Dragonqueen, raced to Huma’s side.
“You’ve won! You’ve defeated her!” Kaz stopped abruptly, and his expression became serious. “As I am your witness, Huma. I—I will remember as I remember my ancestors.”
Huma silenced him with a look. “Kaz, you must pull the Dragonlance from her body.”
“What?” Kaz rose and stared at Huma as if the knight was bereft of his senses. “Release her? She will wreak havoc all over! We will die—if we are lucky!”
Huma shook his head. “No. She. Swore. I can—promise you that she will—” He wanted to shut his eyes. “—she will depart.”
“I cannot!”
“Kaz.” Huma grimaced. “I promised her. It—it is a question of my honor. You understand honor. We say—say ‘Est Sularis Oth Mithas’ in the old tongue. ‘My Honor is My Life.’ ”
The minotaur looked from the knight to the goddess, silent now, shuddering with pain.
“Hurry. The lance. My honor. The others—they won’t let you”
Reluctantly, the minotaur moved. “My honor—” he said, half to himself, his eyes riveted on the task. “—is my life.”
The heads of the Dragonqueen swerved his way, but only one, treacherous green, remained fixed on Kaz. The others merely weaved back and forth, as if all control had been lost.
The lance was lodged deeply at the base of the neck of the blue head. With great distaste and more than a little trepidation, Kaz climbed atop Takhisis, the Dark Queen.
The green dragon head eyed him intently.
In an act of mad bravado, the huge warrior snorted with disdain. He flinched when it looked as if the head were about to strike, but then the head turned to gaze grimly at the source of the Queen’s agony.
“Gods,” muttered Kaz, then clamped his mouth shut when he thought about the oath. He had reached the Dragonlance. Getting a solid grip on it, the minotaur heaved.
The Dragonlance slid free without the slightest resistance. Kaz lost his footing and went tumbling off the gargantuan form, the lance still in his hands.
A horrible, mind-numbing laugh filled the air.
Kaz came to a stop, turned over, and stared—up.
She was there in all her infernal glory. Wings spread, enveloping the sky. All five heads looked up to the heavens and laughed. The pain, the wounds—it was as if they had never been.
Five terrible dragon heads looked down at the helpless and battered knight, then at the minotaur who had freed her. Each draconian visage wore a malevolent smile.
The sky burst into flames and Kaz was forced to cover his eyes.
When he opened them again, the sky was clear of clouds, and the sun—the long forgotten sun—was shining majestically—triumphantly.
The sun gleamed brightly now. Huma no longer felt cold, though he did not really feel warm, either. Sleepy. That was how he felt.
He discovered the medallion from Lord Avondale in his open hand. Paladine’s face shone brilliantly in the sunlight. The glare was too much. Huma closed his eyes. He could not close his grip on the talisman. That was all right. When the sun began to shift, he would like to look at it again.
His thoughts turned to Gwyneth and what they would do, now that the war was over at last.
CHAPTER 32
“A temple. They’re building you a kender-cursed temple when all you wanted was a place to rest.”
Kaz turned his horse away from the magnificent tomb. Lord Oswal shared the minotaur’s distaste for the elaborate trappings Huma had never cared for in life, but there had been other things to consider.
“The people need a hero,” the Grand Master had explained with a somewhat dubious expression on his aged face, “and the knighthood needs a standard to grow by. Huma has provided both.”
Kaz wondered then how long it would take the people to forget Huma, or to think of him as they did other legends—as just one more story. Humans, dwarves, kender, and elves—they all had a tendency to forget or gloss over truth as time went on. Even minotaurs were guilty of that.
He studied the path ahead. Bennett said he believed the plains could be back to pre-war conditions within five or six years. Kaz estimated nine or ten. Still, the road was serviceable and that was what counted. He wanted to be far away before the knights discovered him missing. There was so much that one of his kind had never seen before. Qualinesti sounded interesting. The elves might offer an experience.
The day was bright and warm, something Kaz was unaccustomed to. He was thankful he
had packed plenty of waterskins. Until he was more familiar with the land, he would have to be careful to conserve.
The massive warhorse Lord Oswal had given him moved swiftly along the trail. There were many dips in the ravaged path and much of his equipment was jostled around. The belt pouch slapping against his right side became such a nuisance that he finally pulled it off. Metal clanked against metal from within.
Kaz pulled his steed to a halt and reached into the pouch. He pulled out two objects. The first was a seal bearing the sign of the knighthood on one side. The reverse side had the minotaur’s name chiseled in it, as well as the fact that he was indeed a minotaur. A mark above his name indicated he was under the protection of the Knights of Solamnia. Kaz had scoffed at first, but the Grand Master was quick to point out that few people had anything good to say about minotaurs. The tales of Huma that had already circulated made no mention of Kaz. Many of the knights still could not reconcile the legendary knight’s friendship with a being that most people considered a beast.
Kaz carefully replaced the seal in the pouch and eyed the second item. It was the medallion of Paladine that the knight’s lifeless hand had released when Kaz had lifted him up to Bolt’s back. The minotaur had stuffed it into the pouch for safekeeping and until now he had forgotten it.
Sunlight gleamed off the medallion and Kaz looked up at the sky again. Things were changing. The dark dragons were gone, but so were the metallic ones. Bolt had departed without comment after they had brought back the bodies. No one had seen a dragon since.
He kicked the warhorse lightly in the sides. As Kaz rode, he continued to finger the medallion. It had occurred to him to keep it, so that he would always have a token of his encounter with Huma. But now he was not so sure that it was, by rights, his.
The medallion was halfway back into the pouch when he came upon the lone tree on the right side of his path. The others near it either lay uprooted or were dead. Only this one held any life—a few branches sprouting new green.
The Legend of Huma Page 37