Dragons of Spring Dawning by Weis, Margaret

Gilthanas continues:

“We came to a chamber and found there . . . not eggs . . . nothing but the shells … shattered, broken. Silvara cried out in anger, and I feared we might be discovered. Neither of us knew what this portended, but we both felt a chill in our blood that not even the heat of the volcano could warm.”

Gilthanas pauses. Silvara begins to sob, very softly. He looks at her and I see-for the first time-love and compassion in his eyes.

“Take her out,” he tells one of the Aesthetics. “She must rest.”

The Aesthetics lead her gently from the room. Gilthanas licks lips that are cracked and dry, then speaks softly.

“What happened next will haunt me, even after death. Nightly I dream of it. I have not slept since but that I waken, screaming.

“Silvara and I stood before the chamber with the shattered eggs, staring at it, wondering… when we heard the sound of chanting coming from the flame-lit corridor.

‘The words of magic!’ Silvara said.

“Cautiously we crept nearer, both of us frightened, yet drawn by some horrid fascination. Closer and closer we came-and then we could see…”

He shuts his eyes, he sobs. Laurana lays her hand on his arm, her eyes soft with mute sympathy. Gilthanas regains control and goes on.

“Inside a cavern room, at the bottom of the volcano, stands an altar to Takhisis. What it may have been carved to represent, I could not tell, for it was so covered with green blood and black slime that it seemed a horrid growth springing from the rock. Around the altar were robed figures-dark clerics of Takhisis and magic-users wearing the Black Robes. Silvara and I watched in awe as a dark-robed cleric brought forth a shining golden dragon egg and placed it upon that foul altar. Joining hands, the Black Robed magic-users and the dark clerics began a chant. The words burned the mind. Silvara and I clung to each other, fearing we would be driven mad by the evil we could feel but could not understand.

“And then . . . then the golden egg upon the altar began to darken. As we watched, it turned to a hideous green and then to black. Silvara began to tremble.

“The blackened egg upon the altar cracked open . . . and a larva-like creature emerged from the shell. It was loathsome and corrupt to look upon, and I retched at the sight. My only thought was to flee this horror, but Silvara realized what was happening and she refused to leave. Together we watched as the larva split its slime-covered skin and from its body came the evil forms of…draconians.”

There is a gasp of shock at this statement. Gilthanas’s head sinks into his hands. He cannot continue. Laurana puts her arms around him, comforting him, and he holds onto her hands. Finally he draws a shuddering breath.

“Silvara and I… were nearly discovered. We escaped Sanction-with help once again-and, more dead than alive, we traveled paths unknown to man or elf to the ancient haven of the good dragons.”

Gilthanas sighs. A look of peace comes to his face.

“Compared to the horrors we had endured, this was like sweet rest after a night of feverish nightmares. It was difficult to imagine, amid the beauty of the place, that what we had seen really occurred. And when Silvara told the dragons what was happening to their eggs, they refused at first to believe it. Some even accused Silvara of making it up to try to win their aid. But, deep within their hearts, all knew she spoke truly, and so-at last-they admitted that they had been deceived and that the Oath was no longer binding.

“The good dragons have come to aid us now. They are flying to all parts of the land, offering their help. They have returned to the Monument of the Dragon, to aid in forging the dragonlances just as they came to Huma’s aid long ago. And they have brought with them the Greater Lances that can be mounted on the dragons themselves, as we saw in the paintings. Now we may ride the dragons into battle and challenge the Dragon Highlords in the sky.”