The Day of the Tempest

Chapter 19 Beryl’s Forest

The dragon shimmed just above the lush canopy. Black as night, it stood out in the pale morning sky. The shadow dragon craned its featureless neck this way and that so it could better see through gaps in the branches. Not spotting what it was looking for, it reached out with its magical mind, searching for the lesser dragons in Beryl’s forest. The Green Peril, the great overlord who claimed the Qualinesti lands, had minion green dragons living in her realm.

It growled softly, a noise sounding like the wind blowing through a crack in a window, and clenched and unclenched its jet-black claws. It had planned to slay a green dragon this day, though by now it would settle for a black. And so it had confined its search to the rich forest and swampland where those types of dragons were more likely to be found.

“Perhaps to the northeast,” the shadow dragon growled, sounding like a gusting wind now. “A small black in Onysablet’s swamp. Or to the …” The words hung in the air. Something had caught its attention. It opened its black eyes wide and peered at two humans, an elf, and a dwarf who were working their way through the dense undergrowth.

“Palin Majere,” the shadow dragon observed. “And his wife, Usha.” It followed them, hovering so close to the canopy that its claws touched the topmost branches, listening to the sorcerer and his friends’ unnecessary banter and guessing at their purpose. “The elf. She has magic about her, too. Fascinating. And foolish. They have no clue they are being watched.”

The dragon had the patience to watch and wait—until it picked up the scent of a more interesting quarry only a few miles away. Its midnight nostrils quivered, and its eyes narrowed. “A black,” it breathed. It sniffed again. “A young one. Another time, Palin Majere.”

The shadow dragon banked to the north and let its magical mind lead it to its prey.

There was too much green as far as the dwarf was concerned. So much green he could barely see the sky or the ground. Of course, there was considerable variety in the shades—light green, dark green, drab green that matched Usha’s tunic and leggings, emerald green, olive green, green so dark it looked nearly black, and green so pale it looked practically white.

If the dwarf looked closely at the ground, between the swatches of thick grass and spreading ivy, he could also see dark brown—the mud left behind from the torrential rain that had washed over them just before dawn. They’d been put ashore a few days ago—when the sky was a brilliant blue and there were no hints of clouds. That quickly changed, however, and it had been raining every day since. The dampness made the green colors seem more vivid.

But if Jasper stared at the trees, he could see the lighter browns and grays of the trunks between the large patches of lime green moss and the thick veil of vines. There were bits of blue and purple here and there too, and splotches of red—flowers. But they were essentially beneath his notice next to all of the green. All that green made him sneeze and made his eyes water. “Gilthanas thought I’d slow them down in Southern Ergoth,” he chuckled as he wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. “Oh, nuts.” He felt his foot step on something soft, and at first he figured it was a patch of moss. But a quick glance revealed that in his effort to avoid a mud puddle, he’d just stepped into a moss-covered, rotting log. “Nuts. Nuts. Nuts.” He struggled to yank his foot free.

“Jasper, what’s wrong?” Usha asked.

“It’s not the green,” he muttered in answer. “It’s this place. I should’ve gone with Gilthanas. How are he and Ulin gonna be able to talk to Groller anyway? Should’ve argued with them.”

“Jasper?” It was Feril’s voice. The Kagonesti and Palin had been walking a few yards ahead, discussing Dhamon and the problem of the scale on his leg. They had noticed the sudden silence—the absence of the dwarf’s thrashing through the brush behind them.

“There was mud surrounding the log,” Jasper said. “I was just trying to keep my boots clean.”

Usha and the Kagonesti softly laughed. “There’s no way Jasper will truly appreciate these surroundings,” Feril told Palin’s wife.

“I’m having a little trouble appreciating them myself”

Usha softly returned, as she backed away from the struggling dwarf. “Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted on coming along. I’m just tired of hearing about all of Palin’s exploits secondhand. I like to be part of them myself every now and then.”

Palin fell to freeing the dwarf. The rotting log was filled with mud, moss and insects. When the dwarf’s foot finally came loose, he hopped about on the other and looked for a relatively dry spot of ground. He found one at the base of a massive oak. The dwarf tugged off the offending boot, and water and mud spilled out. A cloud of gnats instantly formed around him.

Palin was patient enough to wait, gazing at his wife while he did so. He hadn’t protested too loudly when she said she had wanted to come along. He knew it might be dangerous, but Usha was right—no place on Krynn was truly safe anymore. He offered her a slight smile. Her eyes twinkled merrily. He thought she looked beautiful with all of the greenery around her.

“Didn’t mean to slow things,” the dwarf apologized. Until now he hadn’t slowed them down much, despite his short legs. He tugged his dagger free and ran the blade around the inside of the boot to get out as much of the mud as possible. Next he loosened his sash and used it to dry out the inside. Afterward Jasper stuffed the muddy sash in his pocket.

Usha offered him a kind word here and there, while Palin swatted at a foglike swarm of mosquitoes that had augmented the gnats. The Kagonesti stepped a few feet away, and listened to the peaceful woods.

“I could live in this place oh so easily,” she said.

“Bet Dhamon wouldn’t like it” Jasper cut in. “Too many bugs.” Satisfied with his cleaning effort, he thrust his foot inside the boot and grimaced. “Still a little wet,” he mumbled. “Well, it could’ve been worse. Could’ve stuck both feet in.”

Palin helped the dwarf to his feet. “Feril, decades ago this was a temperate forest, vastly different from this … jungle. I visited here then.”

“Beryl has changed it,” Feril said, frowning and glancing upward.

The largest trees stretched well more than a hundred feet into the air with trunks wider than a house, forming a dense canopy through which only the brightest light filtered down. Dozens of heady scents assailed her—rotting wood; the wet, rich earth; a profusion of wildflowers, most of them hidden behind giant fern leaves; the thick moss that spread across the ground and over stones and up the trunks of the trees. There were the scents of animals, too. The Kagonesti recognized fox, bear, raccoon, squirrel. There were other odors, musky ones she couldn’t quite identify, and these intrigued her.

The elf thrust to the back of her mind the fact that the forest was a corruption of nature, an abomination, and an affront to the absent gods who once helped fashion this world. It was such a wondrous abomination. The Kagonesti needed to explore it for just a brief while. She’d been on Flint’s Anvil for so long that it was almost as if she’d forgotten how exciting a forest was.

“I wish we had the time to explore Beryl’s forest,” she said, adding to herself that she wished Dhamon were here to explore it with her. “I’d like to discover what animals are responsible for some of these smells.”

“To talk to this place,” she mused aloud. The rustling leaves seemed to be talking to her. Join us, she imagined them saying. Perhaps if she and her companions were successful in obtaining the four artifacts, she would come back here and do just that—with Dhamon in tow. The Kagonesti hoped if the Green was eventually vanquished, the forest would not revert quickly to its original form. “This is so beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” Usha agreed.

“And green,” Jasper added.

Feril took the lead as she headed deeper into the tropical woods. Her eyes lit on a trillium, a three-leaved dark red flower that grew amid a patch of velvet ferns. The plant should have been ankle-high, the bloom about the size of her thumb, but this one reached nearly to her waist. She moved toward it and ran her fingers over its fist-sized, cone-shaped blossom. Its fragrance was intoxicating. She breathed in deeply.

“Nuts!” She heard wood snap behind her, and turned.

“Sorry,” the dwarf offered as he tugged his foot loose from between two protruding roots. “Don’t mean to insult your beautiful forest, Feril. It’s hard to get around in here. Everything’s so big.”

“You wanted to come along,” Palin reminded him.

“Only because Gilthanas didn’t want me to go to Southern Ergoth. And only because I wasn’t about to get left behind on the ship again. Look what I missed by not going into the desert with you—elephants and everything.”

“You could have sailed to Schallsea with Dhamon and Rig,” Usha reminded him.

Jasper caught up to the Kagonesti. “If you ask me, you should’ve stayed on the ship. Dhamon didn’t look too happy to see you go.”

Feril frowned. “I wasn’t too happy about it either. But we’ll have time together later. Besides, Goldmoon needs to do something about that scale.”

The dwarf smiled. “If anyone can do something about it, it’s Goldmoon. Let’s pick up the pace; there’s not much daylight left.”

Feril smiled down at him. “There’s lots of light left. Just not much of it is reaching down here.”

“Night‘ll be real dark, then.”

“Like a cave,” Palin mused.

The dwarf sighed.

Monkeys chattered and leaped from branch to branch. Birds were in abundance, some screeching shrilly, others singing melodiously. There were plenty of parrots—tropical birds that normally wouldn’t be found here. Lured by the warmth and dense vegetation, they were thriving. Throwing her head back and peering between the branches, Feril could see the orange and yellow feathers of the largest macaws. She pointed them out to Jasper, who seemed only politely interested. Usha, however, was enchanted by them and walked with her head tilted up. She watched them glide from branch to branch, while she held onto Palin’s arm.

They had traveled for more than an hour when the noise abruptly stopped. Feril was the first to notice the unnatural silence. She stopped and concentrated on her other senses—her elven eyes peering into the foliage, her nostrils quivering, trying to pick up new scents—perhaps a large carnivore, something that might have scared the birds.

“Palm, look over here. There’s some kind of net on the ground!” Jasper called.

“Don’t touch it!” Feril called, as she darted forward. Palin and Usha were fast behind her. The Kagonesti reached the dwarf then felt herself yanked off her feet and rising into the air along with Palin, Usha, and Jasper. The net shot high into the trees, biting into their skin. Thorny branches scraped them, tearing their clothes and striping them with welts.

When it came to a stop, the net dangled more than twenty feet above the forest floor, swaying and causing the branches that held it to groan in protest.

“I didn’t touch it!” Jasper shouted. He looked down and then slammed his mouth shut, fighting the sensation of his stomach rising into his throat.

Feril also looked down at the ground, then at her companions, Usha was holding tight to the net, her knuckles white. Palin was trying to move his legs. The sorcerer had a dagger he’d been carrying since the Northern Wastes. Jasper had one too, and a hammer strapped to his belt. Between the two of them, maybe they could cut their way free, swing the net toward a tree first, snare a branch and climb down. Something moved below, skulking from bush to bush, before finally stepping out into the clearing. Feril tugged on Palin’s sleeve, and pointed to the solitary Qualinesti gazing up at them.

The elf wore a long green dress that nearly matched the shade of the velvet ferns. Her hair was short, the color of honey, and her bright blue eyes peered up at them with curiosity. “Spies of the dragon,” she pronounced after looking them over. “You are dead.”

More than a dozen elves rushed out of the foliage to join her, several of them with bows trained up at the net, arrows nocked. She raised her hand, signaling them.

“Wait!” Palin shouted. He pressed his face through a gap in the net. “We’re no spies! We work against the dragons— not for them. I’m Palin Majere and—”

“Majere?” The word rolled off her tongue. “One of the few survivors from the battle with Chaos?”

“Yes, I fought in the Abyss!” Palin returned. “I’m still fighting!”

“If we let you live, you’ll still fight.” The woman stood directly beneath the net now. “Apparently the most famous sorcerer on Krynn is tangled up in our net,” she said, looking over at the other elves. She turned to look back up at Palin. “Apparently you must think us complete fools!”

“No, he really is Palin Majere” said Feril.

The woman glared up at her. “Kagonesti,” she said loudly. “Fled from Southern Ergoth. Perhaps you spy for the White?”

“We will not harm you,” Palin said calmly.

“Oh, I know that. After all, you and your sorcerer friends from the Tower did save our race from the Green Peril. And you still help some Qualinesti escape to safely, when you’re not hanging around in nets, that is.” The elven woman burst into laughter, her companions joining her.

“You? Stand up to the Green Peril?” one of the archers asked Feril. Those beside him chuckled, their soft laughter sounding like leaves rustling in the breeze.

“We oppose Beryl, too—and the White in Southern Ergoth,” Feril added. She turned her head and whispered to Palin, “The resistance is made up of scattered groups of Qualinesti linked by a network throughout the forest. I’ve heard they monitor the dragon and strike with military precision against her minions.”

“We’re trying to stand up to all the overlords,” Usha called.

“And just how do you expect to fight the great dragons?” The woman’s tone was heavy with skepticism. “Four against the dragons.”

“There’s more of us,” Jasper finally spoke.

The elven woman whispered an order to one of the archers. He lowered his bow and slipped into the dense undergrowth.

“Not here!” the dwarf called. “In Southern Ergoth and Schallsea. Oh, what’s the use? You’re not listening.”

“What measure of trust do you offer us?” she returned. “What proof is there of what you claim? Speak quickly, or my men will loose their arrows.”

“This trust,” Palin answered. The sorcerer took a deep breath and told her the truth about their search for the artifacts and their hope to restore magic to Krynn. “We were heading to the old stronghold, the old tower,” he concluded. “One such artifact, a wooden scepter known as the Fist of E’li, is said to rest there.”

“A tale, and a good one,” the elven woman said. “And if it is true, you are on a fool’s errand. Only death awaits you in that place. It is a crumbling tower that even our greatest warriors avoid. What matter if we kill you, or if you die there?”

She again nodded to the archers, who raised their bows.

“No!” Usha cried. “Why won’t you believe us?”

“We believe in ourselves.”

“You are right to be wary of strangers, and I will ask for no special treatment,” said Palin.

“Keep me here with you. I am Palin’s wife. I was in the Abyss. I watched the dragons die, too. Let me be the guarantee that he told you the truth. Let him go to the stronghold and try to find what he’s looking for.”

The Qualinesti leaned her head to the side. “Whoever you are, you are brave.” She pursed her thin lips, running a slender finger across her chin. “But is your offer sufficient?” She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed, as if she was considering the matter.

“Don’t do this,” Palin urgently whispered to his wife. “My magic.. “

“You’d rather us all die by their arrows?” Usha said softly. “Are your spells quicker than those archers?”

“We accept your offer,” the elf finally answered, taking note of Palin’s admirable concern. “Sorcerer—it is a long walk to the stronghold—for those who move awkwardly through the woods. Three weeks we will give you for your fool’s errand. If you have not returned to this clearing at the end of that time with proof that all you seek to take from this land is the scepter, we will know that you failed, or that you lied to us and are indeed spies. Your woman’s life will be forfeit. And, if you still live, we will track you down and finish this job.”

The elf motioned to the archers. They lowered their bows and backed into the foliage. Within a heartbeat, she had disappeared amidst the leaves, too.

The net jerked violently, then plummeted like a rock.

With no room to maneuver in their hemp cocoon, the quartet couldn’t brace for the landing. The ground rushed up to meet them, and they hit with bone-jarring impact. Feril crumpled on her shoulder, her arm pinned beneath her, and Usha on top of her. Palin landed partly on his stomach and partly on Jasper.

The sorcerer unsheathed his dagger, and began cutting at the net. Several moments later, they were free. They gingerly moved their limbs to make sure nothing was broken.

Palin held his wife close. “I should stay, not you.”

“I’ll be all right. Don’t worry. You’re the only one who’s been to the tower before.”

“That was years ago, when I was helping Gilthas try to find Beryl’s lair. The place has changed so much. If only I could visualize it enough to summon us there…”

“Really, I’ll be all right. Just don’t dawdle.”

He stared into her golden eyes, as he’d stared into them years ago before he had ventured into the Abyss during the Chaos War.

“There’s no sign of them,” Jasper said. He looked about on the ground, seeing no footprints and noting that the trampled grass was already beginning to spring back up.

“They’re here, watching us,” Feril said.

Palin cupped Usha’s chin with his trembling hand, kissed her, and took a last lingering look into her eyes. “We’ll be back in time,” he promised.

“Then let’s move,” the dwarf said. He looked about, an uneasy expression on his wide face. He couldn’t see the Qualinesti, but he knew Feril was right. A prickling feeling on the back of his neck told him they were being watched. His tunic was muddy and grass-stained, his face striped with red where the net had pressed against it And his companions looked equally disheveled.

Palin pointed to the east. “This way.”

A week later they found the stronghold—barely. They had passed by the area twice, and only Palin’s insistence that it was somewhere nearby kept them from moving on and looking elsewhere.

The tower was wedged into a crevice in a moss-draped, .rocky hillside. It was as if the forest and the land were trying to swallow the structure, not wanting a work of man to mar this place’s primitive beauty. What little bits of stone were visible were tinted green with moss and looked as if they were part of the hill. Thick patches of well-established ferns grew all around it, and a riot of vines stretched from the base of the tower to its crenelated top more than fifty feet above the forest loam. More vines grew from the top of the hill to the bottom, practically blanketing the structure.

Spider monkeys cavorted up and down the vines, and dozens of the orange and yellow parrots had made nests within niches. Several thick vines had pulled away from the top of the tower, as if something too large, like an ape or gorilla, had tried to use them for climbing. A shadowy recess covered by a draping of ivy strands marked the doorway at the base.

Feril and Palin stared at the structure, while Jasper struggled through the bushes that barred easy access. “You two coming?” The dwarf pulled at a stubborn, broad leafed plant, not noticing the Kagonesti hesitate.

The wooden door, warped from moisture and age, stood slightly ajar.

“Someone’s been here,” Feril whispered.

“Maybe the elven resistance,” Palin speculated. “Maybe the woman lied about her men avoiding this place.”

“Or maybe the dragon’s been here,” Jasper wondered aloud.

Palin took a deep breath, parted the leafy curtain, and tugged on the rusted latch.

The old door swung open with a gentle groan, revealing shadows and blackness. A pair of glowing yellow eyes peered out from the darkness beyond.