City of the Lost

6 Into the Labyrinth

Linsha was very quiet when the three dragons returned to the Missing City. The effects of the dragonfear and the surge of terror during her fall had worn off, leaving her drained and exhausted. She did not notice at first that the silver and gold dragons veered away toward the brass’s lair, leaving Iyesta alone to fly along the northern boundary of the ruined city.

“Why does she go this way?” Varia’s soft, raspy voice prodded Linsha back to the moment. She started out of a half doze and stifled a huge yawn. She glanced down and saw the spectral images of the city away to her right. Farther ahead afternoon sunlight sparkled on the waters of the southern Courrain Ocean. To her left the semi-arid grasslands tumbled and twisted, thrust up and down, and surged away on its endless journey to the northern horizon.

Iyesta spoke before Linsha could ask. “I want to take you someplace, Rose Knight, to show you something that few know about. Normally, I would not reveal this to any human, but I have learned much good about you this past year, and I have heard others praise your sense of justice and your courage. I think I can entrust this secret to you.”

“Why?”

“I would like another to know about this. Circumstances change. Accidents happen. Wars begin. There may come a time when I need your help.”

Linsha tilted her chin up. She did not need further justification. Iyesta was her friend and had always treated her with respect and consideration. “I give you my word as a Solamnic Knight that I will keep your secret safe.”

“Not as a Solamnic,” Iyesta demanded. “I want your word of honor. It is stronger and more binding than your vows of Knighthood.”

Linsha opened her mouth to argue then closed it. Memories of Sanction flitted through her mind and of weeks spent in a Solamnic prison. “On my honor,” she promised.

Iyesta dipped her wings and curved down over the city. She glided back to the west somewhat until her shadow passed over the empty, abandoned remnants of the outerlying ruins. For some unknown reason the images of Gal Tra’kalas did not extend this far out, leaving the verge of ruins to sink forgotten back into the dust.

Linsha recognized the foundations of the scattered outbuildings where she had run afoul of Leonidas and his crossbow. There was no sign of the centaurs, nor any indication of any patrol, guard, traveler, or wandering undesirable. Out here beyond the habitation of the city dwellers and the insubstantial images of the Missing City, the landscape looked bleak, forlorn, and empty.

A broad open space appeared beneath the big dragon, and she came to land, furled her wings, and dipped her shoulder so Linsha could slide off. Varia flew down, dipping and hooting her thanks.

“One moment,” said Iyesta. “This will be easier.” Linsha backed away to give the dragon some room. Although she had seen this a few times, the transformation never ceased to amaze her.

Iyesta folded her wings tightly against her body, curled her tail around her feet, and pulled her head in close. Closing her eyes, she stilled and focused her mind inward. She hummed a few nameless notes—which Linsha knew was not part of the magic, it just seemed to be the dragon’s way of counting the seconds—then, a dazzling haze enveloped Iyesta from nose to tail. The haze shimmered and coruscated with brilliant sparkles of fiery yellow, gold, amber, and orange—the colors of the fire that smelt brass.

Linsha shielded her eyes and watched through the shelter of her fingers. The haze brightened then shrank, apparently taking the dragon with it. Brighter and smaller it became until it hovered in front of Linsha in a vaguely human-sized glow of sun-bright light. She had to screw her eyes shut against the searing radiance, then in a snap the light vanished. Linsha blinked, opened her eyes, and saw a woman standing in the dragon’s place.

Linsha smiled. The woman, smiling in return, raised a hand and tilted sideways as if she had lost her sense of balance. Linsha hurried to her and helped her sit down on a nearby lump of rock.

Iyesta’s human face lit in another bright smile that beamed from her full mouth, danced in her huge topaz colored eyes, and colored her golden brown skin with a ink hue. Her face was one of the most expressive Linsha had ever seen on a human or anyone else, as if all the exuberant emotions felt by the big dragon would not be contained and projected from her mobile features with blithe delight.

“The world always looks so different from down here.” Iyesta laughed. “I don’t have time to do this often enough to get used to two little legs and an upright body.”

The owl, who had been watching the shapechanging from the air, came to a fluttering landing on Iyesta’s knee. She stared up into the woman’s face and cooed her approval. “Finally, I get to see all of you up close instead of bits of you.”

“Small creature, you are so soft.” Iyesta brushed her fingers over Varia’s head, tickling the owl on the back of the neck and rubbing her palm over the owl’s russet back feathers. “Tactile sensations are something we dragons do not get to enjoy when we assume our true shape.”

Linsha watched them both. Varia’s “ear” feathers lay flat on her head and her eyes were half closed while the woman stroked her wings and chest. She knew other metallics could shapechange like this, and she mused for just a moment about the bronze dragon, Crucible. Did he ever shapechange? She suspected he liked to change into a certain tabby-colored tomcat—bronzes had a quirky affinity for small furry animals. But what, she wondered, would he look like if he changed into a human shape? She was about to ask Iyesta if she knew, when the dragonwoman lifted Varia to her shoulder and climbed to her feet. She took a few tentative steps and this time stayed upright.

“I can walk now. We should go. There is not much time left in the day, and I recall you have duty tonight.”

Linsha groaned and all thought of Crucible backed away into the pantry of her mind for another day.

Night duty, and she still hadn’t had any sleep. She rubbed her eyes and fought back another yawn. If she had to face any more of Commander Remmik’s lectures while in a sleep-deprived state of exhaustion… well, she might not be responsible for her actions.

Iyesta read the look on her face and chuckled. “We will hurry. I will see that you are back to get some sleep before the sun sets. Come. This way.”

With the owl riding on her shoulder, Iyesta strode toward the faded, tattered outskirts of the ancient city. As a woman, she was taller than Linsha by a head, long legged, graceful, and sinewy as a cat. Her brass scales had turned into a garment of sorts that clung to her skin like fine silk and resembled a sleeveless, long shift that hung just to her knees. She wore no jewelry, carried no weapons, and bore nothing more than the owl on her shoulder. Yet she moved with an unspoken authority and sense of self that bespoke danger to any person stupid enough to accost her.

Linsha followed curiously. She had no idea where they were going or why, but she had no fear in Iyesta’s company.

Not far from where Linsha met Leonidas the night before, Iyesta came to the faint outline of a crossroad where long ago a road from the Plains converged with a road from the city. A few stone pavings still marked the workmanship of the long-dead elves. Beside the north road sat a jagged row of low pedestals that had once held up some sort of small statues. The statues were long gone—stolen, broken, or buried under centuries of dust—and only their bases remained.

“At one time, this area was a garden, I was told,” Iyesta said. She swept an arm out toward an area of sand and rock just to the east of the crossroads. “There are the ruins of a large house near that rise.”

Linsha had to take her word for it. There was nothing around her that hinted of a garden of any sort—just scrubby sage, tough sword plants, some skinny clumps of grass, and a few of the cold-resistant cacti that somehow survived the hard winters on this end of the Plains of Dust. Wordlessly, she walked behind Iyesta toward an outcropping of the weathered stone.

From a distance, the outcropping looked like a solid mass of rock thrust up from the soil and exposed by the ceaseless winds. When they drew closer, however, Linsha saw the mass was really a pile of shaped stones collapsed together like a stack of children’s blocks and left to meld together through centuries of sun, wind, ice, and rain.

Iyesta walked up to the base of rock before turning to Linsha. “Please stay close behind me when we go down. There are several guardians in the passages. If they see you with me, they will know you are permitted to pass.”

Iyesta passed Varia back to Linsha, then hooked her fingers around the edge of a large block of stone and pulled it sideways as easily as opening a door.

Linsha peered at the dark entrance and whistled appreciatively. The stone had hidden a doorway neatly carved and shaped behind the pile of rocks. A stone stairway led down into the darkness.

Linsha laughed. “Don’t tell me. The Missing City has mysterious underground tunnels, too.”

Iyesta half-turned, her eyes sparkling. “Of course. What old city doesn’t? There are always old sewers, foundations, old storage rooms, ancient waterways, secret tunnels, or hidden labyrinths under any self-respecting city. Come and see mine.”

The dragonwoman stepped aside and gestured to Linsha to move quickly into the gloom. Linsha hurried to obey. She stepped down the broad stairs, brushing her fingers on the damp, cool stone. Behind her, she heard Iyesta pull the huge stone back into place. The light dimmed, but it did not vanish completely. Cracks and small gaps in the crumbling heap of stone allowed some sunlight to leak into the stairs.

Iyesta went ahead, leading the way down. The light faded into gloom then brightened again where the steps came to an end in a large chamber. Linsha, close behind Iyesta, reached the bottom of the steps and stopped, her eyes wide with interest.

Outside, the afternoon sun had reached the right angle to find a certain crack in the old ruin that let its light into the old chamber like a buttress of pale gold energy gleaming on a standing pool of amber water.

“Centuries ago this was a well,” Iyesta said. “Then someone had the idea to put a building around it and use it as a bath. Now it just collects rainwater for whatever lucky lizards can find their way in here.”

Linsha saw handiwork that went into transforming the well into a bathing pool. Remnants of an old tile floor could still be seen under years of dirt, and the cracked remains of an old bench sat against a far wall.

The pool itself had been shelved and shaped to provide both a shallow end and a deep end for bathers of all sizes. This would have been a delightful retreat in the heat of summer.

“Does anyone else ever come here?” she asked.

Iyesta’s smile turned chilly. “It would not be wise. The creature that lurks in that pool now will not tolerate any trespassers larger than lizards, unless they are with me.” She turned away, passed the pool, and walked to the back of the chamber where another, smaller door led to another narrower set of steps.

Linsha took a long, slow look at the water. She could see nothing obviously wrong with it. It was clear and colored amber from the minerals in the rock around it, and it did not seem to harbor anything dangerous. Just as she turned her head, though, something moved in the corner of her vision. She snapped her head around and, for a brief moment, saw a head seemingly formed by water drop back into the depths of the pool.

“What was that?”

“A water weird. She has a nasty temper, so don’t try to pass her without me.”

Linsha looked again but did not see the creature. A water weird! She knew a little about them from her father and grandfather. They were elementalkin and did not exist naturally on Krynn. Any water weird found in this world had been summoned by magic. As a result they tended to be irritable, homesick, and vicious. If this creature was any indication of what lay below, Linsha planned to stay very close to Iyesta.

The dragonwoman followed the second set of stairs down past an old chamber that may have once been used for storage. They passed this and continued further down, deep into the earth and rock below the ruins. The light passed away behind them while the dark pressed close. Linsha was forced to use her fingers and feet to feel her way down the long, winding staircase.

Neither Iyesta nor Varia had trouble seeing in the dark, but after the third time Linsha tripped over a broken stair, the dragonwoman remembered her human companion would need some help. Speaking a quiet word, she formed a cool, gentle flame of light that hovered over their heads and lit their way with a bluish glow.

At the bottom of the stairs, a tunnel pushed forward into the earth. Wide and spacious, it was well crafted and still in good repair even after centuries of neglect. The air was cool and smelled old to Linsha’s nose, as if it had not been circulated in many years and still carried the dust motes of the First Cataclysm.

Iyesta went forward without hesitation. Linsha followed. The tunnel ran straight and true for perhaps fifty paces then branched left and right. Iyesta turned right. Almost immediately, the tunnel turned left and intersected with another tunnel. This was no simple water system or escape route. They had entered a labyrinth of passages under the city. It was a maze deliberately planned and constructed for some secret purpose. The tunnels were wide and well constructed, paved with stone and arched overhead. She tried to keep track of how they were going, but the twisted turns and numerous intersections that looked so much alike soon lost her. After a while all she could do was follow Iyesta and hope fervently that she was not left behind in this darkdrowned maze.

Although the flame helped light her way and Iyesta guided her through the labyrinth, Linsha found her hand straying to her sword time and again. The tunnels were silent and looked empty, but once or twice she sensed something move in the dark. Another time small hard feet pattered down a side tunnel just as they went by, sending tiny echoes of sound skittering through the empty spaces.

“What is down here?” she asked, but the dragonwoman simply smiled and said nothing.

They walked for what Linsha estimated was nearly an hour before Iyesta turned into a broad tunnel and gestured to Linsha to go before her. The lady knight looked ahead and saw a golden light glowing dimly on the wall at the end of the passage. The air was warmer here, and rich and moist like the air from a hot house.

Linsha glanced curiously at her companion then walked along the tunnel to where it turned left and opened into a huge cavern. One look into the cavern stopped her in her tracks. Varia hooted softly in appreciation.

The cavern was enormous, carved millennia ago by sea water when the coast was younger and the seas were higher. The elves had found the chamber, enlarged it, and set it in the center of a labyrinth that stretched under the streets of their fair city from one end to the other. There were no records left that told what the elves used the cavern for, but Linsha stared awestruck at what the brass dragon laid in its protective depths.

Across an expanse lay a mound of sand brought carefully down to the cavern and piled into a nest. Half buried in the sand Linsha counted eighteen dragon eggs, each mottled in browns and golds and each looking warm and healthy. On the far side of the nest, she could see the bulk of another dragon curled protectively around her side of the mound.

She started to walk in, but Iyesta held her arm and stopped her. “The guardian sleeps, and I do not wish to disturb her. Her name is Purestian. It is her duty to guard these eggs until they hatch.”

“Are they yours?”

“No. They are hers. I gave her a safe place to stay—and my oath that I would protect the eggs.”

“When will they hatch?”

“In around sixty years. If all goes well, my realm will be their home, and they will be as my children.”

Linsha beamed. Children had never been a strong wish for her, but the pride in Iyesta’s voice was infectious. She studied the cavern from the graceful curving roof to the wide sandy floor.

“Where is the light coming from?” she whispered. “And why is it so warm in here?”

“Purestian and I used spells to set glow lights in the roof. They keep the eggs warm. I come down here once in a while and renew them. Come. We must go.” She walked hack up the corridor.

Linsha took one last look at the gleaming eggs. She knew what an honor Iyesta had bestowed on her by showing her the nest, and she knew, too, what a responsibility that knowledge laid upon her. She stayed deep in her own thoughts as the dragon led her back to the surface of the city by another long, circuitous route.

It wasn’t until they stepped out into the slanting sunlight of the late afternoon that Linsha spoke out.

“You have shown me your eggs and taken a chance that I will not reveal your secret. But what do you expect me to do?”

The dragonwoman touched a finger to Linsha’s tunic where the bronze scale hung beneath the fabric. “You and Crucible and the golds and silvers in my realm are the only ones who know the eggs are there. You are also the only one who knows yet that the blue is plotting war. If something happens, I trust you to do what you can to protect the eggs. I would not ask this of another two-legs. Only you have the honor and the instincts to protect my children.”

“But what if I need to get down there and find them again?” Linsha protested. “I will defend them as I would my own kin, but I need to know how to get to them.”

“Crucible can take you. Or, if he is not here, you can enter through that door.” She pointed to the ruinous building they had just left.

Linsha glanced around for the first time and realized they were in an overgrown section of the palace where Iyesta made her lair. A brilliant light suddenly flared beside her, and she scrambled out of the way as the brass returned to her dragon form. The dragon’s shadow fell over her.

Iyesta dipped her great head and scraped her cheek over a crumbling stone lintel. A small scale as bright as polished brass fell to the ground.

“If you take this,” Iyesta said, “it will help you find your way and protect you from the guardians. Don’t forget to warn the Legion.”

Iyesta then departed back to her lair and left Linsha standing bemused in the hot sunlight.

With care Linsha picked up the round scale. It was slightly smaller than the one Lord Bight had given her and of a brighter, more reddish tint. Pleased, she turned it over in her hands. She would find a jeweler and have this one edged with gold to match the bronze scale, and it would hang on the gold chain around her neck—a precious gift with a heartfelt obligation; an obligation she hoped fervently she would never have to fulfill. She stretched her tired limbs and took a deep breath. The weariness she had fought off the past hours came trudging back. There were only a few hours left until she had to report for duty. In that time, she had to return to the Citadel, clean her uniform, find something to eat, and get some sleep. She would have to hurry.

She stretched her tired limbs and took a deep breath. The weariness she had fought off the past hours came trudging back. There were only a few hours left until she had to report for duty. In that time, she had to return to the Citadel, clean her uniform, find something to eat, and get some sleep. She would have to hurry.

Perhaps it was the heat and bright light after the hours in the cool darkness; perhaps it was her exhaustion. Whatever it was that dragged at her heels, Linsha found she could not hurry. Still deep in thought, she collected her horse and rode, slower this time, back through the busy streets of Missing City. Her mind was so rapt in other matters that she did not notice when Varia left her to seek a more congenial and comfortable place to nap.

Nor did she notice when a stooped beggar in a wide brimmed hat fell in beside her horse. He limped alongside the ambling Sandhawk for two blocks before Linsha jerked herself out of her reverie and noticed him.

“I could have slid a blade between your ribs and been long gone,” Lanther told her.

Linsha gave herself a mental shake. He was right. She needed to be more alert. “My fault,” she said with a yawn. “It’s too hot, and I haven’t slept lately.”

He regarded her critically, noting the dark circles that framed her clear green eyes and the smudges of dirt that marred the blue of her uniform. “Busy day with Iyesta?” he asked, his expression unreadable.

“She’s very upset. The triplets are missing.”

“Missing? How do you misplace three dragons?”

Linsha rubbed her temples with her free hand. She could feel a headache gathering momentum in the back of her head. “Iyesta believes Thunder is involved somehow.”

Lanther made a rude noise. “That incompetent? She has him terrified of his own shadow. He wouldn’t do anything to rouse her ire.”

“Maybe not, but she took Chayne, Ringg, and me to see Thunder this morning.” She glanced down to see his reaction.

The man was good, she had to admit. The surprise had already vanished behind his usual mask of imperturbability.

“What did you learn?” he asked.

She shrugged. “That Thunder is hiding something. We’re not sure what, though. We saw what looked like more than a few men scurrying to get of sight. And Thunder was more tense and brash than usual.”

The Legionnaire hooked his hand around her stirrup and let the horse take some of his weight off his bad leg while he walked. “Did they look numerous enough to he an army?”

“Hard to tell,” said Linsha, taking care with her words. “We did not see more than a few hundred I’d guess. Of course, there is no telling how many made it out of our sight before we noticed them.”

“A few hundred,” he repeated. “Were there any other dragons around? Other blues? Thunder’s inimical personality has hardly attracted hordes of underlings.”

“No.” Linsha stared into the distance. She understood where he was taking his questions. They were the same questions she had asked herself. Plainly stated, she knew there simply was not enough evidence to be certain that Thunder was plotting war or had even harmed the triplets. He might be planning to cause trouble in some petty way, but unless he had an army of thousands and the help of other dragons, he did not stand a snowball’s chance in the desert of defeating Iyesta and her militia, her guards, and her companion dragons. He would be insane to attempt it.

“So what is he up to?” she said softly. “Where are the triplets?”

“Two excellent questions,” said Lanther.

“And no answers.” She reined Sandhawk to a halt and stared at the man without really seeing him.

He chuckled, a rare sound from him. “Go back to your castle. Get some sleep. Let the next few days take care of themselves. Thunder will not attack in the next day or two. Maybe things will look clearer after a good meal and a long sleep.”

She gripped his hand briefly. “For a flea-bitten beggar, you have some good ideas. Iyesta asked me to pass on her concerns to the Legion, so please tell Falaius what I told you. Let us see what we can do to unravel this mystery.”

“I will alert the Legion. We need to coordinate with the militia, too. Let me handle that.”

“Into your competent hands I leave it.” Grinning, she reached into her belt purse, pulled out two coins, and flipped them into his hands. “Buy yourself a bath.”

With a wave, she kneed Sandhawk into a trot and turned his nose toward his stable.