Tas was too stunned to say anything. He and the dwarf watched in amazed horror as the draconians danced and prostrated themselves before a giant black dragon. The creature lurked inside the remaining half shell of a crumbled domed ruin. Its head was higher than the treetops, its wings span was enormous. One of the draconians, wearing robes, bent before the dragon, gesturing to the staff as it lay on the ground with the captured weapons.
'There's something strange about that dragon,' Tas whispered after watching for a few moments.
'Like they're not supposed to exist?'
'That's just the point,' Tas said. 'Look at it. The creature isn't moving or reacting to anything. It's just sitting there. I always thought that dragons would be more lively, don't you know?'
'Go up and tickle its foot!' Flint snorted. 'Then you'll see lively!'
'I think I'll do that,' the kender said. Before the dwarf could say a word, Tasslehoff crept out of the brush, flitting from shadow to shadow as he drew near the camp. Flint could have torn his beard out in frustration, but it would have been disastrous to try and stop him now. The dwarf could do nothing but follow.
'Tanis!'
The half-elf heard someone calling him from across a huge chasm. He tried to answer, but his mouth was stuffed with something sticky. He shook his head. Then he felt an arm around his shoulders, helping him sit up. He opened his eyes. It was night. Judging by the flickering light, a huge fire blazed brightly somewhere. Sturm's face, looking concerned, was near his. Tanis sighed and reached out his hand to clasp the knight's shoulder. He tried to speak and was forced to pull off bits of the sticky substance that clung to his face and mouth like cobwebs.
'I'm all right,' Tanis said when he could talk. 'Where are we?' He glanced around. 'Is everyone here? Anyone hurt?'
'We're in a draconian camp,' Sturm said, helping the half-elf stand. 'Tasslehoff and Flint are missing and Raistlin's hurt.'
'Badly?' Tanis asked, alarmed by the serious expression on Sturm's face.
'Not good,' the knight replied.
'Poisoned dart,' Riverwind said. Tanis turned toward the Plainsman and got his first clear look at their prison. They were inside a cage made of bamboo. Draconian guards stood outside, their long, curved swords drawn and ready. Beyond the cage, hundreds of draconians milled around a campfire. And above the campfire…
'Yes,' Sturm said, seeing Tanis's startled expression. 'A dragon. More children's stories. Raistlin would gloat.'
'Raistlin-' Tanis went over to the mage who was lying in a corner of the cage, covered in his cloak. The young mage was feverish and shaking with chills. Goldmoon knelt beside him, her hand on his forehead, stroking back the white hair. He was unconscious. His head tossed fitfully, and he murmured strange words, sometimes shouting out garbled commands. Caramon, his face nearly as pale as his brother's, sat beside him. Goldmoon met Tanis's questioning gaze and shook her head sadly, her eyes large and gleaming in the reflected firelight. Riverwind came over to stand beside Tanis.
'She found this in his neck,' he said, carefully holding up a feathered dart between thumb and forefinger. He glanced at the mage without love but with a certain amount of pity. 'Who can say what poison burns in his blood?'
'If we had the staff-' Goldmoon said.
'Right,' Tanis said. 'Where is it?'
'There,' Sturm said, his mouth twisting wryly. He pointed.
Tanis peered past hundreds of draconians and saw the staff lying on Goldmoon's fur blanket in front of the black dragon. Reaching out, Tanis grasped a bar of the cage. 'We could break out,' he told Sturm. 'Caramon could snap this like a twig.'
'Tasslehoff could snap it like a twig if he were here,' Sturm said. 'Of course, then we've only got a few hundred of these creatures to take care of-not to mention the dragon.'
'All right. Don't rub it in.' Tanis sighed. 'Any idea what happened to Flint and Tas?'
'Riverwind said he heard a splash just after Tas yelled out that we were being ambushed. If they were lucky, they dived off the log and escaped into the swamp. If not-' Sturm didn't finish.
Tanis closed his eyes to shut out the firelight. He felt tired, tired of fighting, tired of killing, tired of slogging through the muck. He thought longingly of lying down and sinking back into sleep. Instead, he opened his eyes, stalked over to the cage, and rattled the bars. A draconian guard turned around, sword raised.
'You speak Common?' Tanis asked in the very lowest, crudest form of the Common language used on Krynn.
'I speak Common. Apparently better than you do, elven scum,' the draconian sneered. 'What do you want?'
'One of our party is injured. We ask that you treat him. Give him an antidote to this poison dart.'
'Poison?' The draconian peered into the cage. 'Ah, yes, the magic-user.' The creature gurgled deep in its throat, a sound obviously meant to be laughter. 'Sick, is he? Yes, the poison acts swiftly. Can't have a magic-user around. Even behind bars they're deadly. But don't worry. He won't be lonely-the rest of you will be joining him soon enough. In fact, you should envy him. Your deaths will not be nearly so quick.'
The draconian turned its back and said something to its partner, jerking its clawed thumb in the direction of the cage. Both of them croaked their gurgling laughter. Tanis, feeling disgust and rage welling up deep inside of him, looked back at Raistlin.
The mage was rapidly growing worse. Goldmoon put her hand on Raistlin's neck, feeling for the life beat, and then shook her head. Caramon made a moaning sound. Then his glance shifted to the two draconians, laughing and talking together outside.
'Stop-Caramon!' Tanis yelled, but it was too late.
With a roar like a wounded animal, the huge warrior leaped toward the draconians. Bamboo gave way before him, the shards splintering and cutting into his skin. Mad with the desire to kill, Caramon never noticed. Tanis jumped on his back as the warrior crashed past him, but Caramon shook him off as easily as a bear shakes off an annoying fly.
'Caramon, you fool-' Sturm grunted as he and Riverwind both threw themselves on the warrior. But Caramon's rage carried him on.
Whirling, one draconian raised its sword, but Caramon sent the weapon flying. The creature hit the ground, knocked senseless by a blow from the big man's fist. Within seconds, there were six draconians, bows and arrows in their hands, surrounding the warrior. Sturm and Riverwind wrestled Caramon to the ground. Sturm, sitting on him, shoved his face into the mud until he felt Caramon relax beneath him and heard him give a strangled sob.
At that instant, a high-pitched, shrill voice screeched through the camp. 'Bring the warrior to me!' said the dragon.
Tanis felt the hair rise on his neck. The draconians lowered their weapons and turned to face the dragon, staring in astonishment and muttering among themselves. Riverwind and Sturm got to their feet. Caramon lay on the ground, choking with sobs. The draconian guards glanced at each other uneasily, while those standing near the dragon backed off hurriedly and formed an immense semicircle around it.
One of the creatures, whom Tanis supposed by the insignia on its armor to be some sort of captain, stalked up to a robed draconian who was staring, open-mouthed, at the black dragon.
'What's going on?' the captain demanded. The draconian spoke in the Common Tongue. Tanis, listening closely, realized they were of different species-the robed draconians were apparently the magic-users and the priests. Presumably, the two could not communicate in their own languages. The military draconian was clearly upset.
'Where is that Bozak priest of yours? He must tell us what to do!'
'The higher of my order is not here.' The robed draconian quickly regained his composure. 'One of them flew here and took him to confer with Lord Verminaard about the staff.'
'But the dragon never speaks when the priest is not here.'
The captain lowered his voice. 'My boys don't like it. You better do something quickly!'
'What is this delay?' The dragons voice shrieked like a wailing wind. 'Bring me the warrior!'
