relief.
'Arryas shirak!' said the dragon. A globe fully eight feet across, set in the very apex of the obelisk roof, blazed with light. The details of Cupelix's lair leaped out at her: heaps of old books and scrolls, candle stands, censers, braziers, and other magical apparatus all wrought in heavy gold; four tapestries covered the walls, tapestries so old that the lowest edges were crumbling to dust. One hanging, fifteen feet wide by fifteen feet high, showed Huma the Lancer astride a fire-breathing dragon, impaling a denizen of the Dark
Queen's domain. The hero's armor was worked in gold and silver thread.
The second great tapestry was a map of Krynn. It showed not only the continent of Ansalon as Kitiara knew it, but other land masses to the north and west.
The third hanging showed a conclave of the gods. They were all there, the good, the neutral, and the evil, but the image that truly arrested her was that of the Dark Queen. Takhisis stood apart from the assembled gods of good and neutrality, regal and scornful. The weaver had made her not only beauti ful, but also terrible, with scaly legs and a barbed tail. As Kiti ara moved past the great figure, the expression on the Dark
Queen's face was by turns cruel, contemptuous, bitter, and bewitching. Kitiara might have stood there forever staring at her, had not Cupelix levered the stone slab back into place, restoring it for a floor. The several tons of marble thunked down, and broke Kitiara's trance.
The last tapestry was the most enigmatic. It was a depic tion of a balance, like the constellation Hiddukel, except that this scale was unbroken. In the right pan of the scales was an egg. On the left was the silhouette of a man. Cupelix clomped across the slab, his nails clicking on the stone.
'Do you understand the picture?' he asked.
'I'm not sure,' Kitiara replied. 'What sort of egg is that supposed to be?'
'What kind do you think it is?'
'Well, if it's a dragon egg, then I guess the picture repre sents the world in balance between humans and dragons — as long as the dragons are just eggs.'
Cupelix said, 'That's very good. It's also the most obvi ous interpretation. There are many others.'
'Who made the hangings?'
'I don't know. The gods, perhaps. They were here before
I was.' The dragon went to the largest pile of books and lay back against them, drawing his tail around in front. Kitiara cast about for a convenient place to sit. She upended a black iron cauldron inlaid with silver runes and sat on that.
'So here I am,' she said. 'Why did you want to talk with me especially?'
'Because you are different from the others. The man
Sturm, I enjoy debating, but one can talk to him for five minutes and know his entire mind. He is very plain- spoken and single-minded, isn't he?'
She shrugged. 'He's a good fellow when he doesn't inflict his narrow values on others. It's hard to like him sometimes.'
'And love?' asked the dragon slyly.
'Hardly! Oh, he's not bad looking, well made and all, but it'll take a different sort of woman from me to capture
Sturm Brightblade's heart.'
Cupelix cocked his head to one side. 'In what way?'
'Innocent. Unworldly. Someone who fits his knightly version of purity.'
'Ah,' said the dragon. 'A female untainted by lust'
Kitiara smiled crookedly. 'Well, not completely.'
'Ha!' Cupelix gave a hoot of laughter, thumping a six foot stack of tomes. Dust puffed from between the yellowed vellum pages. 'That's what I like about you, my dear; you're so frank, yet unpredictable. I've not yet been able to read your mind.'
'But you've tried?'
'Oh, yes. It's important to know what dangerous mortals are thinking.'
Kitiara laughed. 'Am I dangerous?'
'Very. As I explained, Master Brightblade is an open book to me, and the gnomes' thoughts fly about like mad butter flies, but you — you, my dear Kitiara, bear much watching.'
'The time has come for you to answer some questions frankly, dragon,' she said, planting her hands on her knees.
'What is it you want from us? From me?'
'I told you,' said Cupelix, twisting his neck from side to side. 'I want to leave this tower and go to Krynn. I'm sick of being cooped up in here, with no one to talk to and nothing to eat but the leavings the Micones can scrounge for me.'
'You feed us quite well,' Kitiara objected.
'You do not understand the essential formula of magic. A' small amount of matter can be changed by a large amount of energy — that is how it is done. What you consider a large meal would not be a snack for me.'
'You're big and strong,' she said. 'Why don't you claw your way out?'
'And bring the stones down upon my head?' Cupelix preened his purplish cheeks. 'That would hardly accom plish my purpose. Besides,' his eyes narrowed vertically,
'there is geas, a magical prohibition against my damaging the structure. I have tried many times, using many formu lae, to convince the Micones to demolish the tower, but they would not. There is a higher power at work here, which requires the attention of a third force to overcome. Your ingenious little friends are that third force, my dear. Their fertile little brains can conceive a hundred schemes for every one you or I may devise.'
'And none of them practical.'
'Really? You surprise me again, dear mortal girl. Did these same gnomes not get you to Lunitari in the first place?'
She objected that that had been an accident.
'Accidents are only unexpected probabilities,' said the dragon. 'They can be encouraged.'
When Cupelix said that, Kitiara looked over her left shoulder and saw the Dark Queen glaring down haughtily from her tapestry. 'What,' she began before taking her eyes off the mesmerizing visage, 'will you do if we can get you out of here?'
'Fly to Krynn and take up residence there, of course. I am very keen to sample the mortal world with all its gaudy and vigorous life.' She gave a derisive snort. 'Why do you do that?' asked Cupelix.
'You think life on Krynn is strange! What do you call the creatures who dwell around you?' she said.
'To me, they are normal. They are all I have known, you see, and they bore me. Have you ever tried to talk philoso phy with a tree-man? One might as well talk to a stone. Did you know that the vegetable life that grows on Lunitari is so feeble and transient it has no magical aura of its own? It is only because of the pervasive force of my egg-bound com patriots that there is life here at all.' Cupelix mustered a massive sigh. 'I want to see oceans and forests and moun tains. I want to converse with wise mortals of every race, and so increase my knowledge beyond the boundaries set by these ancient books.'
Now she understood. 'You want power,' said Kitiara.
Cupelix clenched his foreclaw into a fist. 'If knowledge is power, then the answer is yes. I ache to be free of this perfect prison. When my Micone scouts discovered the gnomes' fly ing ship, for the first time I hoped that I might escape.'
Kitiara was silent for a moment. Choosing her words care fully, she said, 'Do you fear retribution, should you escape?'
The dragon's head pulled back in surprise, 'Retribution from whom?'
'Those who made the obelisk. If a prison stands, then there likely is a warden somewhere.'
'The gods sleep. Gilean the Gray Voyager, Sirrion, and
Reorx have laid down the reins of destiny. The way is clear for action. The very fact of your voyage to Lunitari bears this out. In the days of Huma, such a thing would not have been tolerated,' Cupelix said.
The gods sleep, Kitiara mused. The way is clear for action! These thoughts stirred deep within her. It must be true; a dragon would know.
'Tell me your thoughts,' Cupelix said. 'I grow uneasy when you are so quiet.'
