trying to peer out the few clear panes scattered among the colored glass.
'Go down and find out what's going on,' someone said.
'It's so blasted dark I can't see the stairs,' someone else muttered.
And then it was no longer dark.
Flames exploded outside the Inn. A wave of heat hit the building with force enough to shatter windows, showering those inside with glass. The mighty vallenwood tree-which no storm on Krynn had ever stirred-began to sway and rock from the blast. The Inn tilted. Tables scooted sideways, benches slid down the floor to slam up against the wall. Hederick lost his balance and tumbled off his chair. Hot coals spewed from the fireplace as oil lamps from the ceiling and candles from the tables started small fires.
A high-pitched shriek rose above the noise and confusion- the scream of some living creature-a scream filled with hatred and cruelty. The roaring noise passed over the Inn. There was a rush of wind, then the darkness lifted as a wall of flame sprang up to the south.
Tika dropped a tray of mugs to the floor as she grabbed desperately at the bar for support. People around her shouted and screamed, some in pain, some with terror.
Solace was burning.
A lurid orange glow lit the room. Clouds of black smoke rolled in through the broken windows. Smells of blazing wood filled Tika's nostrils, along with a more horrible smell the smell of burned flesh. Tika choked and looked up to see small flames licking the great limbs of the vallenwood that held up the ceiling. Sounds of varnish sizzling and popping in the heat mingled with the screams of the injured.
'Douse those fires!' Otik was yelling wildly.
'The kitchen!' The cook screamed as she flew out of the swinging doors, her clothes smoldering, a solid wall of flame behind her. Tika grabbed a pitcher of ale from the bar and tossed it on the cook's dress and held her still to drench he clothes. Rhea sank into a chair, weeping hysterically.
'Get out! The whole place'll go up!' someone shouted Hederick, pushing past the injured, was one of the first to reach the door. He ran onto the Inn's front landing then stopped, stunned, and gripped the rail for support. Staring northward, he saw the woods blazing and, by the ghastly light of the flames, he could see hundreds of marching creatures the lurid firelight reflecting off their leathery wings. Draconian ground troops. He watched, horrified, as the front ranks poured into the city of Solace, knowing there must be thousands more behind them. And above them flew creatures out of the stories of children.
Dragons.
Five red dragons wheeled overhead in the flame-lit sky. First one, then another, dove down, incinerating parts of the small town with its fiery breath, casting the thick, magical darkness. It was impossible to fight them- warriors could not see well enough to aim their arrows or strike with their swords.
The rest of the night blurred in Tika's memory. She kept telling herself she must leave the burning Inn, yet the Inn was her home, she felt safe there, and so she stayed though the heat from the flaming kitchen grew so intense it hurt her lungs to breathe. Just when the flames spread to the common room the kitchen crashed to the ground. Otik and the barmaids flung buckets of ale on the flames in the common room until, finally the fire was extinguished.
Once the fire was out, Tika turned her attention to the wounded. Otik collapsed in a comer, shaking and sobbing. Tika sent one of the other barmaids to tend to him, while she began treating the injured. She worked for hours, resolutely refusing to look out of the windows, blocking from her mind the awful sounds of death and destruction outside.
Suddenly it occured to her that there was no end to the wounded, that more people were lying on the floor than had been in the Inn when it was attacked. Dazed, she looked up to see people straggling in. Wives helped their husbands. Husbands carried their wives. Mothers carried dying children.
'What's going on?' Tika asked a Seeker guard who staggered in, clutching his arm where an arrow had penetrated it. Others pushed behind him. 'What's happening? Why are these people coming here?'
The guard looked at her with dull, pain-filled eyes. 'This is the only building,' he mumbled. 'All burning. All…'
'No!' Tika went limp with shock and her knees trembled. At that moment, the guard fainted in her arms and she was forced to pull herself together. The last thing she saw as she dragged him inside was Hederick, standing on the porch, staring out over the flaming town with glazed eyes. Tears streamed unheeded down his soot-streaked face.
'There's been a mistake,' he whimpered, wringing his hands. 'There's been a mistake made somewhere.'
That had been a week ago. As it turned out, the Inn was not the only building left standing. The draconians knew which buildings were essential to their needs and destroyed all those that were not. The Inn, Theros Ironfeld's blacksmith shop, and the general store were saved. The blacksmith shop had always been on the ground-because of the inadvisability of having the hot forge located in a tree-but the others had to be lowered to the ground because the draconians found it difficult to get into the trees.
Lord Verminaard ordered the dragons to lower the buildings. After a space had been scorched clear, one of the huge red monsters stuck his claws into the Inn and lifted it. The draconians cheered as the dragon dropped it, not gently, onto the blackened grass. Fewmaster Toede, in charge of the town, ordered Otik to repair the Inn immediately. The draconians had one great weakness-a thirst for strong drink. Three days after the town was taken, the Inn reopened.
'I'm all right now,' Tika told Otik. She sat up and dried her eyes, wiping her nose with her apron. 'I haven't cried once, since that night,' she said, more to herself than to him. Her lips tightened into a thin line. 'And I'll never cry again!' she swore, rising from the table.
Otik, not understanding but thankful that Tika had regained her composure before the patrons arrived, bustled back behind the bar. 'Nearly opening time,' he said, trying to sound cheerful. 'Maybe we'll have a good crowd today.'
'How can you take their money!' Tika flared.
Otik, fearing another outburst, looked at her pleadingly.
'Their money is as good as anyone else's. Better than most these days,' he said.
'Humpf!' Tika snorted. Her thick red curls quivered as she stalked angrily across the floor. Otik, knowing her temper, stepped backwards. It didn't help. He was caught. She jabbed her finger into his fat stomach. 'How can you laugh at their crude jokes and cater to their whims?' she demanded. 'I hate the stench of them! I hate their leers and their cold, scaly hands touching mine! Someday I'll-'
'Tika, please!' Otik begged. 'Have some regard for me. I'm too old to be carried off to the slave mines! And you-they'd take you tomorrow if you didn't work here. Please behave- there's a good girl!'
Tika bit her lip in anger and frustration. She knew Otik was right. She risked more than being sent off in the slave caravans that passed through town almost daily-an angered draconian killed swiftly and without mercy. Just as she was thinking this, the door banged open and six draconian guards swaggered in. One of the them pulled the CLOSED sign off the door and tossed it into a corner.
'You're open,' the creature said, dropping into a chair.
'Yes, certainly.' Otic grinned weakly. 'Tika…'
'I see them,' Tika said dully.
2
The stranger. Captured!
The crowd at the Inn that night was sparse. The patrons were now draconians, though occasional Solace residents came in for a drink. They generally did not stay long, finding the company unpleasant and memories of former times hard to bear.
Tonight there was a group of hobgoblins who kept wary eyes on the draconians and three crudely dressed humans from the north. Originally impressed into Lord Verminaard's service, they now fought for the sheer pleasure of killing and looting. A few Solace citizens sat huddled in a corner. Hederick, the Theocrat, was not in his
