To Light A Candle

He was face-to-face with a dragon.

A very large, very black dragon. Its head shimmered iridescently in the strong sunlight, the blackness of its armored plates sparkling with all the shades of a midnight opal: blue and gold and fire-red.

He’d seen dragons before, but only in visions, and then only from a distance. They had seemed vaguely lizardlike, but borne as much resemblance to the lizards of the forest as Shalkan did to a horse, and as little. Long sinuous necks, tails twice the length of their bodies, ending in a broad flat barb to help the creatures steer in the currents of the upper air—for most of all, dragons had wings.

This one was only a few feet away. Its head alone was the size of a boat, and took up so much of Kellen’s field of vision that he couldn’t see any of the details he remembered from his visions. It blinked golden pupilless eyes the size of large melons at him.

How had it gotten so close without him knowing? Why hadn’t he at least heard it? The thing was the size of a building—and not a little cottage, either—it should make some noise!

And now what was he going to do? He certainly didn’t dare attack it…

“Wildmage. You are a friend to the other Wildmage.”

It was not a question. Its voice was deep, and surprisingly soft for its size.

He hadn’t known they could talk.

“Idalia! Do you know where she is?” Kellen demanded eagerly.

“Yes. She is hurt, and needs help.” The eyes blinked. “I will take you to her. The way will not be easy: the Tainted mock-Elves that infest the caverns were roused by my exit, and search for me now. To reach your Wildmage, we must return the way I came. They may discover us, and they are eager to take me prisoner.”

“Leave them to me,” Kellen said, touching his sword.

For a moment, he would have been willing to swear the dragon smiled. It hesitated for a moment. “My name is Ancaladar.”

“I’m Kellen. Idalia’s my sister. We’d better go quickly.”

He glanced at Shalkan.

“I’ll wait here,” the unicorn said. “Somebody needs to explain things to Jermayan—and sit on him if necessary.”

Kellen nodded, and scooped up the tarnkappa. He’d need its spells to see once they got into the caves—he’d have to explain the cloak to Ancaladar, so the dragon didn’t worry that Kellen had deserted him.

A dragon…

“Come, then,” Ancaladar said. The dragon spread his wings—blotting out the sun for a moment—and launched himself into the sky in an eerie silence. He flew low, obviously intending Kellen to follow.

“Better wear that,” Shalkan said, nodding at the tarnkappa. “Just in case you run into Jermayan on the way.”

Kellen nodded, swirled the cloak around himself, and took off after Ancaladar at a run.

His training under Master Belesharon served him well—before he had entered The House of Sword and Shield, Kellen would never have been able to run almost half a league uphill over snow to the foot of a cliff without falling flat on his face at the end of it. But though he wasn’t able to keep pace with the dragon—even though he could tell that Ancaladar was gliding very slowly—he reached the spot where the dragon circled very quickly, and flung back the tarnkappa as Ancaladar dropped down to a neat—and silent—landing.

“Here I am,” Kellen said, looking up at Ancaladar. “Idalia made this so she could sneak around in the caverns.”

“I could see you quite clearly,” the dragon said.

Now that was interesting. Ancaladar could see through the tarnkappa’s spells?