Dragonmage of Mystara

PROLOGUE

Night seemed to gather like standing water from a gentle rain, slowly filling the narrow streets and alleys of the city and the low places where the walls met the cobbled streets. The gray stone of the buildings and the dull bluish tiles of the roofs deepened and gradually seemed to disappear into the shadows. The bitterness of the long winter had given way to a mild and pleasant spring, but night still came early to the Highlands, and the cold still seemed to gather with the darkness.

Alessa Vyledaar stood at the window of her private chamber, watching the deepening shadows of the approaching night. The wide window was one of the principal reasons why she had made this chamber her own, even if it was yet another flight of stairs higher in the Wizards' Residence of the Academy. She had never been comfortable in Byen Kalestraan's old chambers, which had seemed to her like a windowless cavern, dark and remote. But there had also been a rather disquieting presence to those chambers, almost as if they were haunted. She had never been one to worry much about ghosts, but she did not trust anything that might have involved

Kalestraan and the traitor wizards.

She had always felt a vague awareness in that place, almost as if something were calling out to her, or perhaps seeking something. The presence was so vague, in fact, that she had never been certain it was real and not just her own passive antipathy for Byen Kalestraan, a man she had never liked or trusted even before he had proven himself a traitor and assassin. She had simply preferred not to live with that constant distraction. But lately, even in her new chambers, a distant voice had been calling to her from far away.

This evening the mysterious voice was especially persistent, and less distant than it had ever seemed before. Alessa did her best to ignore it as she waited in her chamber for the carriage that was to take her to dinner that night with Solveig White-Gold. She had tried to pass the time with her spellbook, but she had soon realized the distraction was too great. The effort to ignore the voice disturbed her concentration, so that she had learned nothing. She gave it up at last, closing the book and hiding it away. But that left her alone with the voice and her own thoughts. On the nights when the voice was especially persistent, it would invade even her dreams with dim visions of dragons and strange monsters and endless, unexplained toil in the dreary desolation of some cold, dry wasteland.

Slowly Alessa began to realize that there was indeed a difference in the quality of the voice tonight. Always before, no matter how loud or determined it had been, it had simply been some unintelligible voice echoing in her mind, without any sense of direction except that it was always stronger and clearer in the chambers that had been left empty with the death of the traitor Byen Kalestraan. But this evening she sensed beyond all doubt that it was calling to her, even if she did not understand the words. She felt certain that if she followed the voice, it would lead her to its source.

That thought gave her a moment's hesitation-indeed, more than a moment. Whatever else the voice might be, she believed with all her heart that it was evil. Something about the voice and the dreams it conjured awakened a vague memory of fear, so distant that she had no clue of what she feared. All she knew was that her deepest instinct told her to run from that voice, to avoid it at all costs, even to destroy it if she could. And yet she had to know what it was. She could not simply ignore a thing of that nature, leaving it free to work its evil. If Kalestraan had brought a being or force of unknown magic into the Academy, it had to be found and the building made safe.

It also occurred to her that the voice might somehow be a clue to the location of the Collar of the Dragons. She had never been entirely sure just what the collar was, but she knew that it was an heirloom of tremendous value and importance to the dragons. Finding the collar had become Alessa's responsibility when she had replaced Byen Kalestraan as the senior wizard of her order, and she had never been able to discover even the smallest clue about where the traitorous wizards might have hidden it. Finding the collar was becoming more critical than ever. The dragons would be returning to the Highlands any time now, and they expected their treasure to be returned to them.

Having weighed her choices, Alessa decided to act while the mysterious call still seemed strong enough to lead her to its source. Caution told her not to do this alone, that she needed the support of at least one other senior wizard to help her if it proved to be a trap. And yet she preferred to keep this secret to herself until she knew what was involved. She slipped quietly out of her chamber, pausing a moment at the door to make certain no one was about. Since the lamps had not yet been lit, the passages of the Wizards' Residence were dark and gloomy in the gathering dusk.

She descended the stairs slowly and cautiously, then paused and smiled with amusement at her own fancies. She was the mistress of this place, not a thief in the night. All the same, she paused for a moment when she came to Kalestraan's door, reviewing in her mind all the magical traps that he might have employed to guard his most hidden secrets. He had been a Fire Wizard, and his traps would have somehow involved fire, possibly sudden jets of flame shot into the face of the curious or brilliant flashes of light to blind probing eyes. Her greatest advantage was that she knew the same fire magic, and her level of experience was nearly equal to what Kalestraan's had been.

Again Alessa reminded herself nervously that she was not stealing into the domain of a deadly enemy. She had been within these chambers time and again, seeking clues to the location of the stolen Collar of the Dragons. Sir George Kir-bey had also helped her search this place, and his knowledge of magical traps and hiding places was even greater than her own. She had little reason to be concerned until she actually found the source of that mysterious voice, but then she would have to be very careful indeed.

Forcing back her fears, she opened the door of Kalestraan's former chambers and stepped into the darkness, quietly speaking a word of command to bring the magical lamps to life. The first room had been Kalestraan's office, the place where he had worked or received visitors in private. A door at the back of the room led into a small storage chamber. She knew that same door also led to the only hiding place that they had ever been able to find, but she had known about this secret place since Kalestraan's death and she also knew that the thing calling to her was not there. That lay beyond the third door, in the shadows deep in a narrow opening between two groups of bookcases, which led to the senior wizard's personal suite.

Alessa opened the door and spoke the word commanding the lights as she stepped inside, pausing for a moment to look about. The room looked just as it always had; she had ordered that nothing was to be removed or changed in any way, so that any possible clues to Kalestraan's conspiracies would not be lost. Now she moved more slowly and cautiously than ever as she began to trace the source of the mysterious call. If any traps remained, this was the most likely place for them. She hoped that any protective magic would have been designed in such a way that it recognized her as Kalestraan's successor, in a sense the heir to his secrets. The fact that the mysterious voice had been calling to her, and to her alone, certainly suggested that such a distinction had been made.

The voice was now louder than ever, so close that it no longer drew her in any specific direction. For a moment, she wondered if her search would be in vain. Then, as she remained standing just inside the door, she closed her eyes to permit the lure of the mysterious voice to guide her, without the distraction of searching for its source by sight. All her attention was given to her mind's ear, as it were, letting the silent voice guide her. The source of the call seemed a little more certain to her now, and she took slow, cautious steps in that direction, fighting the urge to open her eyes. The knowledge that she could be walking blindly into a trap kept her nerves on edge.

Alessa almost jumped back in fright when something touched her, although she realized in the next instant that she had bumped into the side of Kalestraan's bed. She opened her eyes in her moment of fright and she saw, almost to her surprise, that she had located the origin of that mysterious call. Kalestraan's cape with its high, stiff collar hung on a hook beside the bed; he had not been wearing it on the night of his death. Set above the right breast was a broach bearing the small stone indicating his rank, in his case the brilliant red signifying a senior wizard of fire magic. In the distant past of their race, the stone would have been a large, brilliant ruby, but since the Flaem had begun their journey from world to world, times had become more lean and the stone was nothing more than common colored glass.

Or perhaps this piece of glass was not so common. She saw immediately that a faint glow of red light emanated from deep within the stone, and it was not a reflection from the lamps. She was amused to realize that Kalestraan had not hidden this magical artifact in some safe place guarded with traps, but had worn it in plain sight nearly everywhere he had gone. She had a stone just like it in appearance, although hers really was nothing more than ordinary glass. She hesitated a moment longer, still fearful of traps and also mindful that any strange artifact of magic that Byen Kale,straan had found valuable might well be a thing of evil.

By her right as Kalestraan's successor, the stone now belonged to her. The object seemed to recognize that. Moving quickly, she reached out and released the pin, slipping the broach from the cape into her hand. The stone reacted to her touch, the distant light pulsing. The voice fell silent at that same instant, almost as if she had startled it. Then, as she stood staring into the stone, fearful of magically probing its secrets with her mind, the mysterious voice resumed, but now it sounded different. It seemed to be demanding to know who she was sharply, impatiently, as if the strange will behind the voice was annoyed at finding itself in an unfamiliar hand. Then, even before she could consider her reply, the voice fell silent and the pale light faded.

That seemed to put an end to the matter, and Alessa realized that the time had come for her to stop asking for trouble. If the enchanted jewel wasn't willing to talk to her now, then she needed to choose her own time to probe its secrets. That was something she was not prepared to attempt until she had prepared the necessary spells and wards to protect herself from every possible danger. For now, she thought it best to keep the jewel with her, which seemed the best way to prevent it from attempting to lure anyone else. She pinned it to the front of her jacket, amused to think that Kalestraan had kept an object of such value in plain sight, as if it were nothing more than a bauble of little value.

Alessa left the room and locked the door, then hurried back upstairs to her own rooms. As she walked through the darkening corridors of the Wizards' Residence, she was already considering the mysteries of Kalestraan's enchanted jewel. The fact that it had the ability to call attention to itself was less important to her than the question of why it had chosen to do so at that time. Did it possess a will of its own, or was it simply responding to the will of another, perhaps someone who was becoming curious about why Kalestraan had been away for so long? Of course, she had to admit that she could well be overestimating the power or the potential of the thing. It might be nothing more than a ward, a means Kalestraan had devised to warn him if someone was poking about in his secrets.

Whatever its true nature, it had been trying to get her attention for some reason, perhaps to warn her of something. She still hoped that it might lead her to the Collar of the Dragons, but she was fearful that she might not have much time. She needed to learn its mysteries as quickly as she could.

For better or worse, her fascination with the jewel would have to be set aside for tonight. She selected a shawl to wear over her wizard's robe, knowing that it would be cold later on.

Then she left her chambers and hurried downstairs, certain that the carriage must be waiting by that time. A griffon rider had arrived from Thyatis late that afternoon, which likely meant that Darius Glantri had come for a visit. If so, this evening could be a pleasant one indeed, although Alessa reminded herself that she should excuse herself early and leave the rest of the night to her friends.

As she settled herself into the carriage for the short ride to Solveig's house, Alessa reflected upon the unexpected turns of her recent life. In the summer of the previous year, in the time of just a few short weeks, she had gone from being an unimportant sorceress at the Academy to the head of her order and an advisor to Thelvyn Fox-Eyes, the Dragonlord and for a time the last King of the Flaem. She had to admit that she had come into her new duties as scheming and self-centered as the old villain she was replacing. And like her predecessor, she had found that her schemes never worked nearly as well as she had expected.

Alessa had come to regret the part she had played in forcing the Dragonlord to abdicate as the last king of the Flaemish realm. Her only comfort was knowing that Thelvyn had always intended to surrender the throne as soon as the war with the dragons had been settled. Since that time, she had become a devoted member of the council that had been established to replace the king, and she had done much to turn the Fire Wizards of the Flaem from the suspicious, self-serving lot they had been to a genuinely wise and benevolent order. She had been a strong supporter of the leadership of Solveig White-Gold as the head of the council as well as a close friend, even though Solveig had been one of the original companions of the Dragonlord and Alessa's rival.

The carriage rattled over the cobblestones, the sound echoing dully through the narrow streets. Alessa stared out the window, watching the warm, soft lights that shone behind curtains or through cracks in the shutters of the houses she passed. She thought at times about Thelvyn, having finally come to understand the very last bit of wisdom he had tried to teach her. She had believed, with the conclusion of the war of the dragons, that he had lost everything; she had been surprised and at first disdainful of his claim that he had actually won. Perhaps he had won more than even he had anticipated at the time. She envied him his freedom as a dragon, riding the winds, living and hunting in the wild in the company of his wise and devoted mate. Her own life seemed shallow and demanding by comparison.

The carriage slowed and then turned to pass through the gate into the yard of Solveig's large house in the wealthy quarter of Braejr, the house that had belonged to the Dragonlord for several years before that. Even as she was stepping down from the carriage, Alessa could hear the impatient calls of the griffon stabled in the warehouse on the west side of the yard. Alessa was often amused to consider what Kharendaen would think if the proud gold dragon cleric knew that her home of five years was now the abode of griffons. She wondered idly if the neighbors believed that the dragon had been better company than the fierce and often noisy creatures now often in residence.

The young valet, Taeryn, met her at the door, having heard the sounds of her carriage. As far as Alessa knew, Taeryn had been a child of lesser aristocracy who had been sent to Braejr at an early age to work at the palace, where he had served as valet to both King Jherridan and Thelvyn. He was a bit simple, and his duties were the limit of his abilities, but he was always cheerful and eager to please. Since there was no longer any need for him at the palace, he had come here to work for Solveig.

"Good evening, Alessa," he began. Seeing Solveig coming up behind him, he seemed at a loss to know whether or not his service was still required. After a brief moment, he withdrew quietly. Alessa tried not to smile.

"Just in time for dinner," Solveig said. Solveig was the tallest woman Alessa had ever seen, taller even than most men. Her long hair, which she usually wore in a single loose braid, was a pale gold in color, so pale that it was almost white in sunlight.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Alessa said. "I couldn't help noticing that there's a griffon in the old warehouse, so I wondered if Captain Glantri was here for a visit."

"No," Solveig said, standing back so that the sorceress could enter. "A messenger arrived this afternoon bearing a report from Emperor Cornelius."

"I hope he didn't bring bad news," Alessa commented with some apprehension, pausing to give Taeryn her shawl before she followed Solveig into the dining room.

"Good news, actually," Solveig explained. "Everything appears to be generally peaceful in the east. There's been no evidence that the Alphatians and the dragons are still in conflict, so it seems that they've finally made their peace."

Alessa frowned. "Meaning that the Alphatians have finally learned that they are not to trespass in lands the dragons claim as their own. I've heard that they lost at least a third of their fleet."

"I'm still amazed that they were so determined to take on the dragons."

"I'm not," Alessa commented sourly. "The Alphatians are related to my people. In taking on the Nation of Dragons, they displayed much the same hardheaded self-righteousness that leads the Flaem to believe that we can defeat the Alphatians."

They took their places at the table, and Alessa waited silently while Taeryn served dinner. She was thinking, as she always did, of her first night in that house, seated at that same table with Thelvyn and the others. She was embarrassed now to think how she had confidently weaved her schemes in what she had assumed to be a wizardly manner, immediately betraying Byen Kalestraan when the old villain had sent her into that house as his spy. The place always reminded her very much of Thelvyn, especially since Solveig had changed nothing in the few months that he had been gone.

"Have you heard anything from Thelvyn or Sir George?" she asked.

"Not since the last time you asked," Solveig replied, with no hint in her expression about whether she was amused. She paused a moment while Taeryn set her plate before her. "You don't miss Thelvyn, do you?"

"I just recall that he did not have much cause to think well of me the last time we spoke," Alessa admitted. "I've come to think that I would like to amend that. Do you ever regret that

you didn't go with them?"

"From time to time," Solveig answered. "But mostly as a matter of curiosity. Then I remind myself where they were going, and that cures me. I'm not ready for the company of dragons, especially dragons who don't yet think much of Thelvyn and even less of his friends. I wonder if he's already found a way to break the spell that has always prevented him from assuming his true dragon form, or if that still is years away. I wonder what he looks like as a dragon, and if he's happier that way."

"Do you suppose that we'll ever see him again, or does his fate now entirely rest with the dragons?"

Solveig made a small helpless gesture. "I can't say for certain, but I suspect that we'll see him soon enough. Somehow I feel that all this business with the dragons is not yet finished, that there are still matters remaining unsettled."

They waited while Taeryn brought in glasses and a bottle of wine, then took out a corkscrew to pull the cork. Taeryn took a special delight in this particular task, and they were not about to interrupt. He extracted the cork deftly, and it slipped out with a satisfying pop.

"I would very much like to see Kharendaen again," he commented as he poured the wine. "She was a very nice dragon. Very polite."

"I wonder how polite she would be if she knew that you've been stabling griffons in her lair," Alessa observed. "And speaking of griffons, I was thinking that it must be about time for Darius Glantri to visit again. That's why I wondered if he were here tonight. It's been a while."

"Perhaps it has," Solveig agreed vaguely.

"So what about Darius?" Alessa continued. "How can the two of you have any meaningful relationship if weeks and weeks go by between visits from halfway across a continent? I know Darius visits every chance he gets, on the pretext of delivering important messages, but usually he's here only one night before he has to go home. You've never told me much about the relationship between the two of you, but if he's willing to go through that much trouble to visit you, something serious must be happening. You grew up in Thyatis, didn't you? Have you ever thought about going back? Might he consider coming here?"

"You're inquisitive tonight," Solveig remarked evasively.

"Are you going to avoid the question?"

"I don't know," she was forced to admit. "I've always thought that I would go back to Thyatis someday, but I can't abandon my responsibilities here in the Highlands any time soon. Darius and I both have important duties in our own lands, duties that we can't forsake at a time when all the known world is in such an unsettled state."

"What drove you away in the first place?" Alessa asked, then hastened to interrupt Solveig before she could answer. "I know the story people tell about how your barbarian heart just longed to be free, and also how you were sold into slavery by the northlanders and bought by one of the first families of Thyatis so that they would have a daughter to present to society. But I've always had the feeling that you left Thyatis for someone's peace of mind, and I'm not certain it was your own."

Solveig frowned. "Actually, that's the exact reason. As I was growing up, I realized that everything I was being taught was to prepare me to be the type of person my adopted parents expected me to be. And being naturally rebellious and contrary, I of course wanted to do exactly the opposite. Since I was supposed to be gentile, I wanted to be a warrior. Since I was supposed to be dignified and respectable, I wanted to be an unsavory adventurer. When I found out that my father was already planning my marriage to someone who would be an advantage to the family, I decided to get out of Thyatis until I was too old to be married away."

"And then Darius Glantri came along," Alessa observed.

"Yes, that's the irony of it. In the course of being everything I wasn't supposed to be, I actually found a Thyatian who is a far more prestigious match than my father could have ever arranged for me. But what about you? Let's discuss your personal life for a while."

"I don't have one," Alessa said with a hint of honest regret. "That's the problem with my profession. I only have my spell-book to keep me company at night."

"If you don't have anything else to distract you, I was wondering if you've discovered anything new about the Collar of the Dragons," Solveig said, pouring herself another glass of wine. "I keep thinking, now that winter has passed, the dragons could be coming back here at any time wanting to know what we've done about finding their collar. The last I heard, you were certain that Kalestraan must have had some part in stealing it."

"Not only that, but I'm also fairly sure that he was the one who hid it," Alessa said, then smiled in almost comic self-sat-isfaction. "In fact, I've run across one of Kalestraan's secrets just tonight. I don't know if it will help us find the collar, but it's the only possible clue I've managed to find in a long while. I'll need a little time to probe the secrets of this thing safely."

"If the dragons come back, I don't know how understanding they'll be about our excuses."

"Do you think Thelvyn would intercede on our behalf?" Alessa asked.

"I don't have much hope that he would be able to. He's never been very popular with the dragons, and I don't even know if he's found the way to become one himself by now. Even if he has, he'll need some time to assert his authority among his own kind."

The end of the war with the dragons had left things rather unsettled. Once Marthaen, the leader of the dragons, had revealed Thelvyn's hidden heritage as a gold dragon and destroyed his trust and support among his allies, the dragons had simply withdrawn. Whether or not they considered their complaint with the Flaem resolved was uncertain, but they would probably be willing to defer their other complaints if the Collar of the Dragons was returned. At least Alessa now had some hope of finding the collar, if only she could force the jewel to reveal its secrets.

Alessa was still considering that very question later that night when she rode home in her carriage. But once she was walking slowly through the dark and silent corridors of the Academy, another matter began to intrude upon her thoughts. The strange, soft voice returned, speaking in words too distant for her to hear, forcing itself slowly yet relentlessly upon her.

She ignored it at first, as she had often done in the past weeks. After changing into a robe, she tried again to spend some time with her spellbook. She had to spend several hours each day learning and relearning her spells, since the price of working magic was the memorization of spells. She had trained herself years ago to be religious about spending daily time with her spellbook.

But the voice of the jewel continued to call to her. Alessa did her best to ignore it, having left the stone on the table by her bed, but once again she found the distraction was too great. The effort it took to ignore the voice was disturbing her concentration, and she realized after some time that she had learned nothing. She gave it up at last, closing the book and returning it to its hiding place. Picking up the jewel from the table by her bed, she brought it over to the light of the lamp at her reading desk.

This was the first chance she had to inspect the jewel closely, since her original intention had been to leave it alone until she had the chance to research the matter and prepare protections. She still didn't dare to probe its secrets magically, but she thought that there could be little danger in simply looking. She laid it down on the desk just the same, careful not to touch it at the same time that she was staring at it intently. Only then did she see that, while the stone had little more beauty than a piece of colored glass, it was indeed a cut jewel of some unknown type. But it was definitely not a ruby.

A moment later, she felt the pull of the jewel, like a slight touch at the edge of her awareness. She drew back in sudden terror of the thing, almost more by instinct than by conscious choice. But in the same moment, she knew that the stone, or the will behind it, had not been trying to trap her but was merely exploring with a delicate touch. All it wanted, at least for now, was to know who she was. Just the same, Alessa was not about to take any chances. As a sorceress of some experience, she knew a great deal about magical traps designed to ensnare not the body but the mind or even the soul of the unwary.

Just to be certain that the jewel would remain harmless, she took it into the adjoining room, which served as her office, and hid it inside the top drawer of a cabinet. She was determined not to look at it again until she had researched the matter to determine what type of magical artifact the jewel was and how she could most safely approach it. Then she returned to her own room and prepared for bed, leaving such mysteries for the next day.

The dreams came again that night, as they often had since the mysterious voice had first begun calling to her. Once again she found herself in that strange, cold desert land, where an icy wind drove sheets of gray, dusty sand. She could feel neither the cold nor the sting of the wind-whipped sand in her dream, but odd, distant memories told her that the feel of such things had once been very familiar to her. The sun was dim and pale, obscured by the gray dust passing like thin, dark clouds high above. There was something very old and familiar about this raw, dying world, but its familiarity was hardly comforting. She felt rather that this could be some forgotten nightmare world that she hadn't visited in a very long time, and she dreaded her return with a deep, cold fear.

Visions passed before her, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she passed before the visions, since she had the impression she was looking down on them from a great height, as if she were flying. She saw mountains so broken and desolate that only a few small, twisted trees managed to push their way between broken stones. Lakes and seas of sand passed below her, and plains of crushed stone. Then she saw, through a momentary parting of the haze of dust, great fortresses as large as cities. In a few sheltered places between the ridges and peaks, armies of slaves fought to maintain fields of green. In the fields, she saw people of races she did not know and beasts the likes of which she had never seen.

Once again the clouds of gray dust closed about her, and the next thing she knew, she was standing alone in some strange place. It might have been a chamber of vast size, made of cut stone like the floor beneath her. But the dust had become a cold, dark mist that drifted and swirled slowly, obscuring everything. She could neither see nor hear anyone, but she could sense the menacing presence of many strange, powerful beings gathered about her. In growing fear, she would have run, but she sensed that there was nowhere she could run that she would not encounter the powerful beings who surrounded her.

With her heart pounding, Alessa waited, not daring to move from the small pocket of open space in the center of the chamber. After some time, she began to see the glimmer of large eyes peering at her from out of the mist. Then faces began to emerge from the darkness, long, narrow faces, like those of dragons. And yet they were unlike dragons, for they seemed not to be living creatures but carved or cut from precious stones. She could not recall ever seeing anything like these creatures, whether in half-remembered dreams or in obscure tomes of magic. They did not seem to be evil, but she had the distinct impression that they considered her so far beneath themselves that they would use her to serve their own purposes without regard for her welfare. Certainly this had not been a part of any of her previous dreams, and yet even these creatures seemed vaguely familiar.

After a short time, the alien dragons drew back into the dark obscurity of the mist. As great and powerful as they were, she sensed that even they were afraid, and now she began to feel even more frightened. She looked up, and for an instant, she beheld a glimpse of another face, never emerging completely from the mist before it withdrew slowly into the darkness. That face was also vaguely like that of a dragon but considerably different from the others. It was much wider, with a short, powerful snout, and it was of such massive size that the body it belonged to would have to be three or four times larger than any dragon she had ever seen. While the face of a dragon was often lean and noble, even wise, this face was brutish and hideous, filling her with terror. Even after it had drawn back into the mist, the great, menacing eyes continued to glitter like sparks of red light from the darkness, holding her in their fierce, calculating gaze.

The surroundings faded into complete darkness, although the glare of those terrible eyes lingered for a long moment after everything else had faded into blackness. She felt an odd awareness, as if her mind and will were now awake, even though her body continued to sleep. And while she seemed to be alone, she knew that she was not. That mysterious, almost godlike being maintained its contact with her mind, although she was now aware of just how distant it really was, as if it were not even a part of her own world. Then it spoke, and with a shock, she recognized it as the voice that had been calling to her.

Sleep now, and in your dreams tell me who you are.

Alessa's response seemed to form itself out of her own memories, without any need on her own part to consciously form a response. She was Alessa Vyledaar, now one of the most experienced Fire Wizards in all the Highlands and the leader of her order since the death of Byen Kalestraan and many other traitor wizards the previous summer. She was quite young for a sorceress of such high rank, the daughter of a family of lesser nobility. She had traveled outside the Highlands in the past, and she had been considering going out into the rest of the world again, admittedly to serve her own ambition, when events had brought her to her present state.

Sleep, and in your dreams tell me what became of Byen Kalestraan.

The memories of those desperate days of the previous summer seemed almost to be wrenched from her mind. Even as the Highlands had been preparing for war with the dragons, Kalestraan had sent her to assist the Dragonlord, but her true purpose had been to serve as a spy within his own house. She had known that Kalestraan was planning to seize control of the Highlands in some bold scheme; she had betrayed the mage to the Dragonlord, although her motive had been to further her personal schemes.

But it had been too late, for Kalestraan struck that very night. Assuming the form of a dragon, he had invaded the palace and had slain King Jherridan. And there he had waited, preparing a trap by which he intended to destroy the Dragonlord, removing his last rival to command of the Highlands. But he had either overestimated his own power or underestimated the power of the Dragonlord. The trap had failed. Kalestraan had been defeated and destroyed, and in the process revealed as a traitor and murderer.

Sleep, and dream of what became of the Dragonlord and the war

with the dragons after the death of Kalestraan.

Thelvyn Fox-Eyes had reluctantly agreed to become King of the Highlands, but only for the duration of the war that threatened. But the dragons had mistaken his actions as ambition, and so they had feared him all the more. They had laid siege to the city of Braejr in incredible numbers, thousands in all, and «ave every appearance of preparing for a final confrontation with the Dragonlord. But that battle never happened.

Why not?

Marthaen, the leader of the dragons, was too clever. He knew ihat the dragons could never hope to defeat the Dragonlord in battle, so he had sought to defeat the Dragonlord by other means. In the end, he had revealed secrets previously known only to the dragons themselves. Thelvyn Fox-Eyes, who had been chosen by the Immortals themselves to be the new Dragonlord, was himself a gold dragon in enchanted form and a cleric of the Great One, the Immortal patron of the dragons. And so the dragons achieved a form of victory. Mistakenly fearing that the Dragonlord sought power and conquest, they had made certain that all the other races and nations of the world would never trust the Dragonlord again.

Dream, and in your dreams recall what became of the Dragonlord.

Alessa honestly did not know. He had abdicated the throne of the Flaemish realm after only a short time, recommending that the rule of the king be replaced by the leadership of a council of representatives. In that way, he had broken forever the old struggle for power between the king, the dukes, and the Fire Wizards that had always been so detrimental to their land. Then Thelvyn had simply disappeared into the night, on a quest to break the spell that preyented him from becoming a dragon, eventually to fulfill his destiny among his own kind. Only the old, one-handed knight, Sir George Kirbey, his companion and mentor, had gone with him.

The mysterious voice remained silent for a long moment, as if considering all that it had learned and formulating new plans accordingly. Alessa waited in the darkness and silence. Now that she no longer had the distraction of the questions, she had a brief time to think for herself. She was beginning to feel frightened once again, knowing that she was held by a will far stronger than her own. Even her mind was no longer her own, if her very memories could be so easily summoned forth for review. And now that she had been ensnared, she knew that she would not easily escape.

Sleep, and do not fear, the voice told her. This was not a trap but the only means we had of speaking across the vast distances of time and space that separate us.

"Who are you?" she dared to ask in return, only partly reassured.

That was not for the moment important, she was told. All she needed to know at that time was that the mysterious speaker had ancient ties to her own people, having helped them in the past. The voice then proceeded to relate aspects of the history of the Flaem even she had never known, of events that occurred during their long age of wandering and of the enemies and the friends they had encountered along the way. It spoke to her of matters that touched her own heart, of the great antiquity of her people, of the power and authority and the deep pride they had once possessed. Would she not wish to recapture the power and the pride that the Flaem had once known? Such a question hardly needed to be asked; the Flaem thought of little else.

The Flaem are like a great tree, rooted in glory, the voice said, soothing her with wise and gentle words. They must not be permitted to wither from neglect. They were never meant to be the slaves of dragons; nor mere tools of the Dragonlord, serving the base whims of the Immortals; nor a small, impoverished, and forgotten folk among the barbaric nations of the alien world in which they found themselves. The Fire Wizards are the guardians of their race, and you are now their leader. Do you not have a great and noble responsibility? Who would be the champion of your people if not you?

As she listened, Alessa began to see the truth and wisdom of what she heard. Why indeed should the rule of the Flaem have rested in the hands of a misfit youth who had not even known he was a dragon? Why should the leadership of the Flaemish council belong to a barbarian war maiden, when it rightfully belonged to her? Once, before she had been deluded by the

Dragonlord and his companions, she had understood the truth. But now the power and authority to command even her own fate seemed hopelessly lost. She had no idea how to claim i he leadership of the council from Solveig, who was looked upon as a beloved defender of the kingdom, while the Fire Wizards were regarded as power-hungry traitors. Nor did she know how she could deal with the enemies of her people, enemies like the proud Thyatians and the evil Alphatians, and especially the dragons.

I can promise help in the form of secret knowledge and wise counsel, the voice continued in a low, soothing tone. More assistance, in the form of the magic and the forces needed to take war directly to the enemies of the Flaem, will be forthcoming later. But for now, you must remain patient. Byen Kalestraan was an impatient fool and refused to heed my advice. He acted too soon. You would not make the same mistakes, for you understand well the subtle games of politics rather than the brute strength of magic.

As the voice spoke to her, Alessa began to trust in her ability to do anything. Yet distant and unheard in the deepest part of her mind, the last shreds of her true will screamed in fury and frustration.