Dragons of Spring Dawning by Weis, Margaret

Kitiara paused.

“You will find her head”

With that, she tossed the helm down onto the ground at her dragon’s feet, then, at a word, Skie lifted his wings and rose into the air.

For long moments, no one spoke or moved. The people stared down at the helm lying before the wall. The red ribbons fluttering bravely from the top of the silver helm seemed the only movement, the only color. Then someone cried out in terror, pointing.

Upon the horizon appeared an incredible sight. So awful was it that no one believed it at first, each thinking privately he must be going mad. But the object drifted closer and all were forced to admit its reality, though that did not diminish the horror.

Thus it was that the people of Krynn had their first glimpse of Lord Ariakas’s most ingenious war machine-the flying citadels.

Working in the depths of the temples of Sanction, the black-robed magic-users and dark clerics ripped a castle from its foundations and set it in the skies. Now, floating upon dark gray storm clouds, lit by jagged barbs of white lightning, surrounded by a hundred flights of red and black dragons, the citadel loomed over Kalaman, blotting out the noon sun, casting its dreadful shadow over the city.

The people fled the walls in terror. Dragonfear worked its horrible spell, causing panic and despair to fall upon all who dwelt in Kalaman. But the citadel’s dragons did not attack. Three weeks, their Dark Queen had ordered. They would give these wretched humans three weeks. And they would keep watch to see that, during this time, the Knights and the good dragons did not take the field.

Tanis turned to the rest of the companions who stood huddled upon the walls, staring bleakly at the citadel. Accustomed to the effects of dragonfear, they had been able to withstand it and were not fleeing in panic as were the rest of the citizens of Kalaman. Consequently they stood alone together upon the walls.

“Three weeks,” Tanis said clearly, and his friends turned to him.

For the first time since they had left Flotsam, they saw that his face was free of its self-condemning madness. There was peace in his eyes, much as Flint has seen peace in Sturm’s eyes after the knight’s death.

“Three weeks,” Tanis repeated in a calm voice that sent shivers up Flint’s spine, “we have three weeks. That should be time enough. I’m going to Neraka, to the Dark Queen.” His eyes went to Berem, who stood silently nearby. “You’re coming with me.”

Berem’s eyes opened wide in stark terror. “Not” he whimpered, shrinking backwards. Seeing the man about to run, Caramon’s huge hand reached out and caught hold of him.

“You will go with me to Neraka,” Tanis said in a soft voice, “or I will take you right now and give you to Gilthanas. The elf lord loves his sister dearly. He would not hesitate to hand you over to the Queen of Darkness if he thought that would buy Laurana’s freedom. You and I know differently. We know that giving you up wouldn’t change matters a bit. But he doesn’t. He is an elf, and he would believe she would keep her bargain.”

Berem stared at Tanis warily. “You won’t give me up?”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Tanis stated coldly, avoiding the question. “At any rate, I’ll need a guide, someone who knows the area . . .”

Wrenching himself free of Caramon’s grip, Berem regarded them with a hunted expression. “I’ll go,” he whimpered. “Don’t give me to the elf . . .”

“All right,” Tanis said coldly. “Quit sniveling. I’ll be leaving before dark and I’ve got a lot to do-”

Turning abruptly, he was not surprised to feel a strong hand grip his arm. “I know what you’re going to say, Caramon.” Tanis did not turn around. “And the answer is no. Berem and I are going alone.”

“Then you’ll go to your deaths alone,” Caramon said quietly, holding onto Tanis firmly.

“If so, then that’s what I’ll do!” Tanis tried without success to break free of the big man. “I’m not taking any of you with me.”