Feathered Dragon

From the chronicles of Coton:

In the long darkness of escape, we strive to reach the dawn.

Through the night we flee, following the roads of the gods beneath the City of Tewahca. Halloran calls on his power of sorcery, a power J have never seen, and brings a bright glow to the tip of his sword. This lights our way through the deepest of the maze.

And here we pass tombs of great kings and the graves of

brave warriors. Rich chiefs, too, lie here amid great treasures-heaps of gold that sometimes rise higher than the burial mounds themselves or floating images of pluma [hat waft temptingly overhead.

from these hallowed niches, dark figures move toward us some wrapped in their burial shrouds, others bare skeletons, animated by some dim and forgotten power. They stumble and shuffle in a ghastly facade of attack, and our courage is tested by each new nightmare.

But always die blessing of the spirit wardens looms over us, and it gives us passage where others would surely die. Finally we move from the deep tombs, working our way again toward the surface. The long night march leaves my companions and me exhausted, but there is no talk of pause nor of rest. Indeed, as we press forward and die hours pass, our urgency grows greater. Our steps fall quickly as haste compels us through the winding paths of darkness and

death.

And then, as we climb a great stairway that seems to raise us from the bowels of the earth, a breath of wind touches our faces. Then we see the cave mouth, with the rich blue of dawn beckoning beyond.