It was only a small blot in an overcast sky, far beyond the oncoming army, but once sighted, it held the viewer's attention as nothing else in the heavens could. Huma felt as if a part of him were being wrenched toward that blot, as if his soul itself was being drawn to it. He caught his breath and tore his eyes away.

"What is it?"

The Grand Master shook his head. "I don't know, but it drives the dragons and ogres toward us, I think."

Huma recalled his reason for coming here and quickly informed Oswal of what he had discovered.

The elder knight acted even before Huma had finished. To his aides he shouted, "Alert all commanders! The dragons! Someone must alert the dragons! Have the ranks ready themselves!"

Turning back toward the oncoming horde, Lord Oswal shook his head. Even as they watched, the dragons of darkness were beginning to pull ahead of the ground forces. They would be here much too soon.

"Milord," Huma said urgently, "let me take the original riders. We will delay the enemy while the others prepare. Send them up in groups of twenty, but have them wait above the Keep until their numbers are great. Then send them out, followed by the footmen. If we gain control of the air, the ground will also be ours."

"You'll be dead!"

The younger knight hesitated-only for a second. "Then I will have given my life over to Paladine, as any knight should do."

Oswal nodded wearily. Huma hurried back down, wondering just how long it would take to gather the others. To his surprise, however, he found them all waiting, riders seated and lances at the ready. In the short time they had been together, the group had become one entity. The silver dragon was there, too, waiting for Huma's orders.

In the deadly calm that can occur before battle, Huma stood before his assembled band and explained the danger of their mission and the likely outcome. He expected opposition, voices of dry logic that would tear down his plan. Instead, he was stunned to discover that they believed in what he proposed, though their lives might be forfeit. Bennett nodded in approval and even some of the dragons indicated their agreement. Oddly, only his own mount gave no response. She appeared withdrawn, though she also made no protest when he climbed onto her back. When he gave the signal to depart, she obeyed with speed and coordination, if not enthusiasm.

Once in the air, Kaz and Bolt edged closer. "We shall make them remember us well, before we perish. Mark me on that, Huma."

"We must seek out Dracos," Huma replied. "He is the key to everything."

"He and his dark mistress."

Huma nodded.

When they were high up, Lord Avondale, who was peering to the southwest, suddenly pointed. "Look there!" he shouted. "Do you see anything?"

Bolt was the first to reply. "It is another army. The enemy grow even stronger!"

Avondale laughed at that. "It is we," he shouted, "who grow even stronger!"

It was the northern Ergothian army. Knowing that only defeat and slavery awaited them if the knighthood fell, they were risking all in the hope of making a lightning strike at the foe from the rear. That they had not been noticed thus far by the servants of Takhisis was good fortune, indeed.

"How long before the others will be aloft?" shouted Avondale.

"Not long." It was Bennett who shouted the response, for which Huma was grateful. He would not have wanted to guarantee anything at this point.

Even as they spoke, the group was moving closer to intercept the first of the dragon scouts. They kept in tight formation, knowing too well that individually they would be cut down.

It seemed that the dark dragons realized their intentions, for some moved accordingly. Others, however, were obviously of different opinions as to what the knights were capable of and broke away from the rest, speeding toward their enemies. Huma could not help smiling briefly. As the evil dragons bared teeth and claw and challenged the newcomers, he realized that they did not believe in the strength of the Dragonlances.

All but a few of the attackers perished in minutes; most of them skewered themselves on the lances of Huma and his companions. Two more died before Huma signaled for his band to allow the survivors to escape. They would bring their terror to the other dragons who had waited.

Huma glanced briefly at his comrades. Kaz was flushed and full of life; Bolt could barely restrain himself from chasing the survivors. Lord Avondale stared toward his army. Buoron was quiet and almost expressionless. His arm had healed, and he was keeping the Dragonlance as steady as he could.

Scores of manned dragons came to meet them. Red, black, green, and blue. White dragons also charged, but they were without riders and Huma suspected they were to be fodder, for they worked more by animal cunning than intelligence, and this environment was not suited for them at all. Though smaller than the other dragons, they could be deadly, and their presence would buy an advantage for the Dragonqueen.

Below, the course of the two armies had altered. The Ergothians were forming a long, wide line, and the southern portion of the ogre forces was turning to meet this new threat. The northern half, having yet to learn of the attack, began to pull away, leaving the middle to scatter about as warriors sought proper orders. Confusion seemed to be spreading.

Now! Huma shrieked in his head. We should be attacking now! Of course, the knights in the Keep could not see the Ergothian army. But they most certainly saw the splintering of the ogres and realized that something to their benefit was occurring. How long before they reacted?

Then, the tiny group of lancers met the first of the seemingly endless waves of foes and there was no time to think of anything but survival.

At first, dragons seemed to appear and disappear each time Huma blinked. There were screams all about him. It became as black as the Abyss and as bright as the sun, for the dragons unleashed their various magics, and riders, some of whom were clerics or sorcerers, added their own powers to the battle.

As the silver dragon dodged a blow from an attacker, Huma saw one of the lancers and his mount fall prey to a band of at least six dragons. Rider and mount vanished beneath the terrible power of the creatures, and it was all Huma could do not to scream at the brave deaths. In the chaos, he could not identify who had perished.

They were becoming separated. Kaz and Bolt still remained with Huma and the silver dragon. At one point, the knight heard the powerful voice of Guy Avondale as he shouted something.

A fearsome black bearing one of the Black Guard came diving from above. Huma shouted at the silver dragon, but she was hopelessly engaged with a red dragon who was pushing the Dragonlance deeper and deeper into his own shoulder, too furious to even realize it. The knight pulled out his sword, useless against such a dragon, and prepared himself for the impact.

Suddenly there was a silver streak, and a sleek dragon intercepted the black. There was a rider on the silver dragon's back, and Huma realized it was Buoron. The other knight already had been struck more than once; blood stained his armor and his mount.

Pain! Huma fell back as something sent shockwaves through his left leg. He stared down at blood flowing from a deep wound. The leg twitched and the shockwaves continued to assault his mind. Through tear-covered eyes, he caught sight of an ogre straddling a dragon. With strength beyond that of a human, the ogre had attacked with an ax and his blow had been lucky.

Huma deflected another blow from the ogre, but felt himself unable to concentrate. The pain demanded too much.

To his relief, the silver dragon was at last able to push away her own adversary. The red, weakened by the loss of so much blood from so many wounds, fluttered helplessly toward the ground, taking his hapless rider with him.

"Huma!"

It took him a few moments to realize the silver dragon was calling to him. She looked at him with eyes filled with terrible fear-and not for herself. He had seen eyes like that before, but- His thoughts were interrupted by a renewal of cries from all around. His first thought was that this was the end, that more dragons were coming to join the ones already attacking the small band.

He was wrong. The dragons he saw as he looked up and around were gold, silver-all the bright metallic colors of the dragons of Paladine. There were more than one hundred, and each had a rider and a knight, armed with a lance that gleamed brightly and aimed true. Dragonlances.

There was mass confusion among the dark dragons. If they had been told anything, they had been told that there were but a handful of Dragonlances. The nearest of the dragons perished without raising claws in defense, so disbelieving were they.

Huma put a hand to his brow and came away with blood-his own. He wondered when that had happened and how.

Thinking of injuries, he again looked down at his leg. The blood was flowing freely still, and he knew he would pass out soon if he didn't do something to stop it. The silver dragon began to pull away from the fighting.

More and more dragons were coming from the Keep. How many Dragonlances had the smith made?

The silver dragon flew as if pursued by the Dark Queen herself. She would glance back in his direction every now and then, that same fearful look in her eyes. He frowned and clamped his hands against the leg wound in order to stanch the flow.

At last, they flew over the Keep walls, narrowly avoiding another set of lancers rising, and she brought him to where other survivors of his band were being treated.

'Take him from me!" The dragon's voice was so commanding, so harsh, that no one dallied. Huma lost sight of her and the world as a whole.

When he awoke, Gwyneth was over him, cleaning the wound, touching it with her hands in a way that deadened the pain. He could almost feel power flowing from her fingertips. Her face was pale and covered partially by her hair as she leaned over the leg.

Huma's eyes wandered. They were on a hill, away from the fighting, but not so far that they could no longer hear the sounds of battle. Avondale was there, his left side a bloody mess. Kaz was nowhere to be seen. Of the original band, only nine remained. Bennett, uninjured but looking as if he and his armor had been dragged across the plains, was staring at Gwyneth with an emotion somewhere between revulsion and fascination. His eyes briefly met Huma's, then turned swiftly away.

"Buoron is dead, Huma," Oswal's nephew finally said, his gaze still on Gwyneth. "The last I saw, he and his dragon took on that black one to save you. They perished."

This last shook not only Huma, but Gwyneth as well. She removed her hands from the wound and cried in them. Huma reached out and touched her arm.

'It's not Buoron she weeps for-" Bennett was having trouble finding the right words.

"Let it be, Bennett." Guy Avondale tried to rise.

"Huma!" Bolt flew into sight, with Kaz waving his battle ax in greeting. Both dragon and minotaur were covered with scratches and minor wounds, but neither seemed to be weakened by them. Huma glanced at them only momentarily, then his eyes returned to Gwyneth. She looked away. He continued to stare at her, even when he finally responded to Bennett's statement.

"What do you mean, Bennett? What are you trying to say?"

The hawklike features of Bennett swerved toward the Ergothian cleric/commander, "Everyone else saw it. Why hide it? If she cannot tell him, someone surely will. He needs to know. I know how he feels about her."

"It is between them!" Avondale was furious.

"Stop it."

The words were from Gwyneth. She rose, all the while staring at Huma. Her arms hung limply by her side.

Avondale slumped back suddenly. He glanced at Bennett and Kaz. "You two, help me up. A chill is coming over me. I need to move somewhere less open."

Reluctantly, Kaz and Bennett helped him rise, and the three moved off.

Gwyneth finally spoke. "I weep for Buoron. I weep for any who fall fighting the Dragonqueen."

"As have I."

She tried to smile. "I weep especially for the dragon Buoron rode, the large silver one."

Brother to his own, Huma recalled. Why would Gwyneth cry so for this one dragon?

She stared moodily around. The area had been emptied. As Huma looked puzzled, her features softened. "Before I tell you this, know that I love you, Huma. I would never do anything to harm you."

"I love you too." The words seemed to flow so easily all of a sudden.

"I think you may change your mind," she said enigmatically.

Huma did not have time to ask what she meant, for Gwyneth was suddenly aglow-almost like the Dragonlances. As he watched in horrid fascination, her face elongated and her nose and mouth grew into a toothy snout. Huma thought of witchery and rose to help her, but his leg was not well yet and the head wound had not been salved. He slumped to the ground.

Her long, slim arms grew even longer-and more muscular. The small hands twisted and turned, becoming terrible claws. She fell onto all fours and seemed to grow and grow and grow. Something wiggled and moved on her back. She was no longer remotely human, and what she did resemble caused the knight to shake his head again and again and again.

Her garments vanished-to Paladine knows where-but she had no more need of them in her present form. The odd wiggling and moving on her backside came from two great humps that burst open, revealing batlike wings. They spread wide, and in moments the transformation was complete. The thing that had been Gwyneth stepped forward, tall, straight-and frightened.

It was a dragon-a silver dragon.

His own.

Chapter 28.

"The silver dragon's eyes were downcast. "Huma, in Paladine's name, please say something!"

The voice was unmistakably Gwyneth's. He looked up into that reptilian face and saw the fear in it-fear that he would reject her. Huma could not say what was truly going through his own mind. Everything seemed to be tumbling down around him. This could not be Gwyneth. Could it?

"You saw my brother that night-as you saw the other who served Duncan Ironweaver-dragons both, but in human form. We admire you so, Huma, you and your kind. In your short lives, you accomplish so much."

Huma said nothing. Involuntarily, he pulled himself slightly farther from her. It was not out of fear, but out of confusion.

She did not interpret it that way, and her words spilled out faster. Even as she spoke, her form reverted. The wings shriveled. Her four limbs smoothed and twisted until they were once more human and she was able to stand. Her body shrank rapidly, as if the huge form were melting before his horrified eyes. The face grew smaller and rounder and the great maw of the dragon dwindled down to the full, perfect lips. Hair of shimmering silver came sprouting from the dragon's head, cascading down the back. Huma nearly fled. The metamorphosis he had witnessed could not be real.

"My brother told me what I did not see at first, that I had fallen prey to what has happened to only a few others in the past. I had lived among you for so long that I had come to love as you do."

"Why?"

She frowned, unsure exactly what he was asking, and then replied, "You embody the very beliefs of Paladine. You are brave, kind, never hateful. I came to love you for you, nothing else."

"Ah, the happy lovers."

The cold, triumphant voice woke Huma from his stupor. It could not be, not here . . .

Galan Dracos, looking much as he had earlier, materialized before the knight and the dragon maiden and smiled. "I would have made my presence known sooner, but I did not care to interrupt such a beautiful scene."

Gwyneth gave a cry that no human could have been capable of and would have struck him, but Huma was already moving and barred her way. The knight succeeded in taking only a few steps before his leg gave out and he fell to the ground. Only then did he remember that the figure before him was an illusion. He silently cursed his own stupidity.

The renegade laughed. "I've come to add to your miseries, Huma. I've come to repay you for the loss of Crynus. I must admit, his insanity grew unpredictable in the end. But he was my best commander and I shall miss him. Pity."

Kaz and Bennett, alerted by the voice of one they knew all too well, came racing around the corner. The illusory Dracos raised a hand and they halted, as if striking a wall.

"An eye for an eye, you pathetic mortal." Dracos raised his hands, and something began to materialize before them. It was not until it was nearly fully formed that Huma recognized it.

"Magius!"

They had tortured him. His face was a bloody pulp, and one eye was swollen shut. His robes were in tatters, and Huma was surprised to see that they were white, not red. One arm was bent at an impossible angle, and neither leg seemed in the least functional. Magius forced himself up with his good arm.

"Hu-Huma." Several of his teeth were missing. "I was right-in the end."

Dracos smiled indulgently. "He babbles like that occasionally."

With great effort, Magius turned around and spat on the garments of the renegade. Galan Dracos became furious and stretched an open palm toward his captive. Magius screamed as his body rippled from the renegade's torture.

Gwyneth moved forward. "Test your spells against me, Galan Dracos."

The phantasm smiled nastily. "I have more power than you could believe, but I do not choose to use it now. I have merely come to show Huma the foolishness of his dreams of victory."