"Good grief!" Mygdewyn spat, and began to curse up ahead until Aiovel hushed him.
"Don't make a sound!" she said forcefully, but in a whisper.
It seemed an eternity later when Gil noticed a faint light ahead. The light grew, and the passage wound around a corner. Gil's nostrils were assaulted by a strange acrid smell, and suddenly he felt his heart sink into his boots.
He knew that smell!
The reason for Aiovel's behavior became clear. As they turned the corner, Gil saw that the light ahead was not daylight.
More than fifty white dragons lay curled together, pressed against the walls and everywhere in between. Puffs of flame illuminated the walls in random perpetual motion, like fireflies turning off and on.
Gil stifled a scream. Aiovel had stepped between them and began picking her way to the far side of the cave toward a narrow shaft of daylight.
* * * * *
The wizard stepped from the rubble onto a tuft of new grass, coughing vigorously. The dust stirred up from the fall of the city of Argolen still clung to the air, though much of it had settled onto the ruins and nearby vegetation in a fine layer. Still more had run into the River of Argolen after a rain shower, and the current struggled its way over the silt-swollen banks.
The tip of the high, rubble mountain was obscured by low-lying clouds; still even its environs proved more formidable than a real mountain could be. The rough, newly broken stones jutted unevenly, cutting the wizard's feet. After a few attempts at combing through the rubble, he decided to give up.
It was an unforeseen catastrophe. Who would have thought that Grainnewyn might be freed while Galadon still lived? Now it was all lost, buried far too deep to be found, at least for the present. Perhaps one day, he might return to excavate the ruins— but at the moment, he had little time.
He would just have to continue without it.
And hope that the years of rest had amply prepared him.
He stalked onward, not looking back.
* * * * *
Gil unashamedly watched his steps. Mountainous walls of thick, almost furry white flesh rose to either side of him. Aiovel led them through a narrow spot, where two Wind Dragons leaned against each other. There was only a small three foot high gap between them. Gil ducked, but as he passed through, his boot accidentally grazed one of the sleeping dragons.
Gil cringed, alarmed, sure that the loud beatings of his heart must have been heard by all. After a moment, nothing happened. Behind him, Galanor was growing unusually impatient; the Dragorian booted Gil through the gap. Gil scrabbled forward on hands and knees, but a moment later, Galanor caught him by the neck and put him back on his feet.
The shaft of daylight grew closer. Gil felt an icy draft blowing through it and heard the distant howl of the wind beyond. The Wind Dragons' breath seemed to have heated the air in this part of the cave. Gil had begun to sweat uncomfortably, and though he dreaded the prospect of freezing on the top of a mountain, he was willing to take that chance if they could escape the dragons' lair.
Gil grasped Dylan's shoulder. Ahead of him, Lilia had disappeared via her shadow cloak. Gil wasn't surprised. But did she actually think the Wind Dragons wouldn't be able to smell her if they did awaken?
Thankfully, the dragons all seemed to be in a deep sleep. Gil wondered about that. Were they sleeping off a recent meal? He shuddered, appalled by the thought. What could have possibly fed such creatures he didn't want to know.
Then he remembered that Aiovel had been unable to pass through here on her last visit. That meant Wind Dragons were ordinarily active creatures. So maybe they were hibernating for the summer. He hoped so; in that case, they weren't likely to awaken any time soon.
And that might explain why their King hadn't posted any guards. But then again, how many creatures had passed through this way in the last thousand years?
Gyfen now seemed such a very long way away. Dear Gyfen! Warm, safe Gyfen!
They had almost cleared the largest dragon, a giant creature with beautifully streamlined folded wings shaped like a bat's but feathered like a bird's. Gil felt excruciatingly vulnerable as he moved past the dragon's great maw, but they couldn't go any faster without risking awakening the dragons.
Suddenly, Gil felt Galanor's hand growing heavy on his shoulder. The Dragorian seemed to be urging him to speed up. Gil looked over his shoulder uncertainly at Galanor's pallid face.
The large Wind Dragon's nostrils had flared as Aiovel passed by; they positively twitched when Galanor followed a second later.
Before Gil had taken another step, the dragon's eyes flashed open. The enormous creature drew himself up to full stature and leered down at them with malicious intent. Gil was impressed; it took but a moment for the dragon to digest the situation.
His roar echoed in the close walls of the cave.
"Aieee!" Lilia screamed ahead as the other dragons began to awaken.
**Reveal your name, Dragorian intruder!** The dragon seethed, glaring at Galanor. Gil realized he hadn't taken off the Ring of Dragontongues yet, for he understood every word the dragon bellowed.
**I am Galanor. Son of Galinas and Alein.** Galanor replied, shooing Gil away with a quick flick of his hand while he had the dragons' attention. "Hurry up and get out of here," he whispered sidelong.
Gil obliged but stopped a few paces away as one of the other dragons made a move toward him. Somehow he got the feeling that if he took another step, the creature was going to pounce on him. Gil swallowed. A precious few steps ahead, Dylan had made it to the crevice with the others. They had turned around when the dragons awoke.
Aiovel pushed aside the others and took a step toward Gil as though coming to his defense. She was too late. The second dragon jumped with lightning speed, its large foreclaw descending upon Gil, cutting off all view. In a panic, Gil realized he'd been trapped like a mouse. But the dragon hadn't crushed him yet; apparently it enjoyed playing with its food.
**Enough, Hwelin!** The largest dragon bellowed, and Gil felt the foreclaw above him quiver with trepidation. **Are you the King, or am I? Fool! Did I ask you to make a move toward our guests?**
**N-no, King Melesian,** Gil heard the dragon holding him offer apologetically. The creature unfurled its massive claw and removed it from above Gil. Gil sighed as cool, fresh air rushed in on him. But the dragon still stood within striking distance. Gil eyed it warily.
**Such hasty creatures. Now, Galanor,** King Melesian turned to the Dragorian. Apparently even Dragon Kings were aware of the rules of decorum among their own kind. **Son of Galinas, you say?** His bright blue eyes narrowed to unblinking reptilian slits. **You remember Galinas, don't you?** He turned his head to address his fellows. The other dragons nodded dutifully. Gil wondered if they would have agreed whether they knew Galinas or not. **Galinas, the one who betrayed us to Dragoras.** He bellowed into the silence.
**You were the betrayers,** Galanor said quietly, firmly.
Gil grimaced. Galanor certainly had guts! Gil only hoped he wasn't about to see them first-hand.
Melesian glowered at Galanor as though the remark had somehow stung him. Gil was confused. He thought he remembered Galanor saying it was difficult to insult the Wind Dragons. But then again, Melesian was supposedly far more cunning and quick-minded than his subjects. Maybe that also made him more sensitive.
**I never raised a claw against Dragoras!** Melesian insisted defensively. **That ingratiating Galinas planned to ruin me from the start! Spreading rumors about me the moment my back was turned— and then he presumed to replace me as Dragoras' advisor!** Melesian snorted, his ire growing by leaps and bounds. Little wisps of smoke curled into the air as he spoke.
**Thought you could trick me, eh?!** Melesian thundered suddenly, leaping between Galanor and the exit. Galanor had taken advantage of the Dragon King's tirade and had begu
n inching toward the crevice where the others waited. **Don't insult my intelligence by thinking you can get away that easily. I've been waiting a long time to settle the score with your father!** Melesian said sharply. **As his son, you should have known better than to intrude into my domain.**
Before Galanor could speak in his own defense, Melesian had sprung, pouncing on him with ferocious malevolence. But the Dragorian had already transformed. The two great dragons collided and rolled, scratching and hissing, creating deep resounding echoes through the mountain.
Gil leaped back, barely avoiding being crushed as they rolled toward him. Galanor had once told Gil there was an honor code even among dragons; as the battle between the two took place, Melesian's subjects kept a respectful distance.
For a moment, Galanor seemed to have the upper hand; then Melesian broke free, gushing a great river of flame toward the Ice Dragon. Undaunted, Galanor countered with a quick stream of ice daggers.
The clash of dragon breath sent a torrent of water into the air. Gil felt a few drops descending before the great splash soaked him through. He stepped back to avoid another wave when the dragon Hwelin saw his chance to grab a quick bite.
Gil caught the gleam in the dragon's eye and jumped back, drawing out his sword. Hwelin came to a sudden stop, recoiling in horror, but still leaning forward unsteadily. After all, he had been going very quickly. Now Hwelin cringed ludicrously, holding enormous foreclaws over his face as he peered, terrified, through his stubby dragon fingers.
The dragons' fear of his sword was such an unreasonable thing! Gil thought, cogitating his experiences. It was only the size of a small needle, after all. But who ever said fear was a reasonable thing? Gil would have been terrified, too, if the one weapon in the world that could kill him was aimed in his direction. Though admittedly, it would have been difficult for Gil to reach any of the dragon's vital organs.
Meanwhile, Gil sidestepped another wave, though his boots were immersed in the eddying puddles of water. Gil was thankful that his boots were watertight; his clothes might take hours to dry, but once wet, his feet would have taken longer. Gil turned slightly, keeping Hwelin in his sight while he looked to see how Galanor fared against the larger King of the Wind.
There was a wicked gleam in Melesian's eye, as though he were planning a sly move that could not fail to bring down the son of his old rival. Galanor waited uncertainly. Gil owned that he looked quite fearsome, but next to Melesian, Galanor's inexperience and youth showed.
**Enough of this!** A voice cried in Dragorian. Gil whirled around. Aiovel stood just behind him, along with the others. They had come back! Gil was relieved, but they should have saved themselves! What hope could they be against a tribe of the swiftest dragons in Arcaendria?
Melesian seemed inclined to agree. Without hesitation, he unhinged his gaping jaws and let forth a stream of yellow-white dragon fire. Gil screamed, but found the flames washing over him without harming him. He looked directly into the fire, but the swirling flames broke and parted before him, without so much as raising the temperature around him.
Mygdewyn jumped in front of Lilia and Ronan bravely, taking the full force of the onrushing flames. But the cloak of Elwellyn Elves Aiovel had given him in Gyfen protected him from the fire and vapors, just as the magic of Gil's sword had saved him. Of course, Mygdewyn had known of the cloak's supposed protective properties, but he still had the courage to take their effectiveness on faith.
A moment later, the dwarf looked up; the flames had dissipated in a wide arc around him. But the right side of Mygdewyn's mustache smoldered; it appeared the cloak's fire-resistant magic had taken a moment to begin its defense. However, Mygdewyn remained unharmed. Behind him, the others were rolling out a few scattered flames from their cloaks.
Like Gil, Aiovel had been unaffected.
Meanwhile, King Melesian blinked in confusion.
**Who are you?** he bellowed, mystified. His nostrils flared as he sniffed a moment to investigate, then turned and puffed flames at a subordinate to test his flames' potency. The younger dragon yelped in protest, much to Melesian's satisfaction, but now the King understood his fire's ineffectiveness on his intruders.
Melesian craned his head forward toward Aiovel, as though to sniff again, but suddenly his jaws gaped open. Apparently, he had decided to use other means to deal with her. He was going to eat her, and that would be that.
**Wait!** Galanor cried. **She is Aiovel, daughter of Dragoras!** Melesian stopped and drew himself to full height, turning his head aside to get a good look at her. Galanor stumbled toward Aiovel protectively, still a little rattled from the effort of his fight.
Now that Gil thought about it, it seemed dragons had difficulty effectively using their abilities against each other. But from what Gil had seen and heard, Aiovel possessed far greater magical abilities unheard of in the other dragons, no doubt inherited from her powerful elven mother, which gave her a potent advantage over all of the other Dragon Kings. An advantage that would hardly be lost upon Melesian.
Gil now understood why Aiovel was holding back. She was giving Melesian an opportunity to save face! Even though the companions would have been outnumbered in a confrontation, Aiovel would surely be able to cause the King's ego status irreparable harm before either side won—or fled.
**Daughter of— Dragoras?** Melesian repeated, taking in this surprise with regal equanimity. He swung his great head down toward Aiovel and sniffed again, then nodded. Now Gil thought he looked somewhat bewildered, and strangely wistful.
**Very well then.** Melesian said at last. **Out of respect for your father, I will allow you to pass through my mountains.** Melesian waved a claw at one of his subordinates, and the smaller, sleek young dragon toddled forth from the other side of the cave.
Gil chuckled. Wind Dragons may have been exquisite flyers; they pounced with cat-like precision and grace, but when traveling long distances on dry land they tended to waddle in a manner similar to ducks. Or maybe it was just that the young ones started out somewhat clumsy; Gil didn't know.
**My messenger will fly to our other warrens to warn them of your coming.** Melesian resumed. Gil heard the dragon Hwelin stir beside him in surprise. No doubt it was something rare for the King of the Wind to release his prey, much less to grant them safe passage through his territory.
**And I will spare Galanor's life, but he must go back the way he came.** Melesian went on, waving a foreclaw with exaggerated generosity. **I will not have him in my lands. Well he should have known to keep clear of me.** Melesian glared meaningfully at Galanor. **For many years, there has been no love lost between the Kings of Ice and Wind. But it is not unexpected that Galinas sent his son to face me,** Melesian added slyly. **No doubt he is too much of a coward to come himself.**
Melesian's comment clearly nettled Galanor, but the Ice Dragorian said nothing.
"The Dragon King has made a proposal," Aiovel said, turning to the others when it appeared Melesian was waiting for some kind of response to his magnanimous offer. To refuse it might be the end of their quest— and their lives. After all, the Wind Dragons were the swiftest dragons of all—and possibly pounced faster than the time it took to summon a spell.
"He asks that we leave Galanor behind in exchange for our freedom." Aiovel said quietly.
"We'll miss you, old friend!" Lilia blurted tearfully, waving at the blue dragon.
"Now hold on a minute," Dylan interrupted. He had to admit he hadn't liked Galanor much at first, but abandoning someone to save his own life was definitely not the chivalrous thing to do.
"Just get out of here," Galanor-dragon managed in Roste. "I'm a big boy. I can survive on my own." He eyed Aiovel meaningfully. After a moment, she nodded understanding.
**If you don't leave soon, I may change my mind,** Melesian interjected with a warning, seeming irritated that he couldn't understand t
heir deliberation and that it was taking too long. He began to eye Lilia as though she would have made a tender morsel.
**Very well, your majesty,** Aiovel said quickly. She deliberately avoided looking at the Ice Dragon; Gil suspected she might lose her nerve if she did. **We accept your terms.**
Melesian nodded, and Hwelin accompanied them to the exit. Now that Gil looked at it, he realized that the cave mouth was far wider than he had guessed, but of course it had to be for the dragons to enter the cave. It angled sideways, between an overlapping ridge that cut out much of the natural light from outside and kept out the cold wind.
Gil looked back one last time as the companions turned in the mouth of the cave, but Galanor had returned to Dragorian form, and it was too dim to see him. They trudged down an exiguous landing ledge, then skirted its edge until it came to an end.
Now the hard part began as they were forced to climb down the steep side of the mountain. The sun was near setting as they reached another, wider ledge below and took temporary shelter between a cleft in the rocks, away from the full sting of the chilling winds.
Gil felt them acutely in his damp clothes, but Aiovel offered him her cloak in exchange for his sodden one. His tunic felt clammy and clung to his skin, but at least the dry cloak kept him from feeling the full brunt of the mountain gales.
Aiovel disappeared for a while, taking Galanor's place as she went off to hunt for food. Already exhausted, Ronan had difficulty conjuring more than a small loaf of bread, even though they could use magic freely again. As usual, his bread had a texture like glue; the forces behind his natural magic didn't seem to be concerned about the trivial things, like taste.
When Aiovel returned, she brought a few white snow rabbits with her. Gil had been concerned that she might freeze out in the air without proper protection, but he supposed dragons were better equipped to deal with adverse weather conditions than humans.