The Realms of the Dragons 2

THE STRENGTH OF THE JESTER

Mirtul, the Year of Rogue Dragons (1373 DR)

There was news from far and wide in the Jovial Juggler Inn that day. News of dragons. It was hearsay, mostly, but it had enough of a ring of truth to put everyone present on edge. Vague reports out of the north of a new Flight of the Dragons, like the one over the Moonsea and Dales seventeen years before, only wider-ranging and more deadly. A bulbous merchant from Hillsfar recalled the dragon slain over the city that time, so great that its corpse blocked the harbor for a month.

From a vacant table Khalt sat silent and listened. Most occupants of the tavern glanced at the elf occasionally but none dared approach him or question him. Wiry and leonine, with a tawny countenance and a huge dagger at his belt, he looked able and willing to fight at a moment's notice. The tattoo across his cheek told them that he was feral and dangerous, a reputation his people did little to discourage among outsiders. The fact that the tattoo was a dragon, its silver tail dangling down his chin and onto his neck, probably drew some interest, but Khalt didn't care to explain himself. Beregost was a merchant town, serving those traversing the Trade Way between Baldur's Gate and Amn, and certainly saw a great many types better not questioned.

Khalt kept his focus on a shadowy corner of the taproom and the two figures meeting there. If the others knew who they were or what they were talking about, they would have cause to be much more than concerned.

A traveler from Turmish told a story he had heard in Erlka-zar a tenday before. It concerned a dragon that supposedly emerged from its lair in the mountains near Saradash and laid siege to the city, destroying much of it before finally being slain by the town guard and two local wizards. The Turmishan saved the most shocking part for last: "It was a brass dragon."

A gnome roared in laughter, perched atop a tall stool. "If a metallic dragon did all that, Saradash must have done something to deserve it."

"Don't be so sure," the burly barkeep replied. "They say these Flights have been going on for centuries, and I always wondered why only the evil ones should be affected."

Khalt's eyes narrowed. One of the two figures in the shadowy corner, the one clad in purple with a wild shock of white hair, was a man Khalt trusted more than any being on Faerim. But Trinculo's face, rarely seen without a wide grin, looked grimmer than Khalt had ever seen it. The other man, whom Trinculo called Chalintash, had a ruddy complexion and hair the color of rust. Khalt didn't trust him in the slightest.

The two of them roared in laughter a moment but soon returned to solemnity. Khalt wondered what could be so funny.

"Listen to yourselves," the gnome protested. "Your minds drift comfortably to the worst case scenario."

"He's right," piped in a black-haired trader from Waterdeep. "If something new is going on with the dragons, the right people must already know about it and are now taking actions to protect us all."

"Spoken just like a Waterdhavian," the Hillsfarian scowled. "Put your faith in your lords and your Blackstaf f. Tell me, what actions did they take the last time this happened? What will they do to defend Hillsfar?"

"From what I've heard of Hillsfar," the gnome said, "it's a shame that dragon didn't raze it to the ground."

"Hold it now, little friend," said the barkeep. "The Lathand'rites run Beregost and they don't look kindly on that sort of talk. So either you-"

The gnome leaped off his stool in Khalt's direction. "Don't you know?" he proclaimed. "If you walked into his city, you'd be tossed in jail and fed to monsters in an arena!"

Khalt didn't say a word in response and kept his gaze trained on the pair across the room, but lowered his hand to the hilt of his dagger.

The two across the room, lost in conversation, took no notice of the disturbance.

"If you don't stop harassing my customers," said the bar-keep, his voice barely raised, "you'll be spending the night in a cell instead of in your nice, warm bed."

The gnome walked upstairs, huffing, and the various merchants returned to their conversation, switching suddenly to topics far away from dragons. But the tension stayed and Khalt's hand remained on his dagger.

Fools, Khalt thought. The world is blazing and they gossip over it. Pettiness turns them against each other. Truly the Rage will bring out the worst in all folks, dragons and otherwise.

Khalt watched Chalintash turn and look directly at him.

He extended a finger and pointed. And Khalt saw the anger sleeping in his eyes.

With a cool breeze and a rustle of leaves, the dragon swept among the branches like a flash of lightning, its slender body weaving in and out of the majestic trees with seemingly impossible speed and grace. Its long, thin tail slashed its way through the passing branches but disturbed nary a tree, while what sunlight flowed through the thick boughs caught the dragon's polished wings and sent silver light filtering all across the shadowed settlement below. Each of the Trunalor stopped and beheld the spectacle playing out in the high trees, even those who had seen it a thousand times before. It was a marvelous vision, to be sure, but it had far greater significance to those elves. It meant thatTrinculo had returned.

Each time, they suspected that he would not come back. Few voiced it, except perhaps in those periods when he had vanished and wandered Faerun for years on end. Mercury dragons were creatures ruled by whims, who catered to the moment's impulse and the instant's pleasure. Some called it freedom, others irresponsibility, but mercury dragons could rarely be tied down. The bonds of friendship and honor that held Trinculo to the Trunalor, the wild elves of Amtar, were tight indeed.

Khalt Laathine never doubted that his friend would always return. The dragon tattoo on Khalt's cheek was a constant mark of their connection. He knew Trinculo better than anyone, and even as the mirror-scaled dragon touched down amid the green shadows, he could tell something was wrong. As the children of the tribe came to greet him, his smiles were forced, his laughter mirthless.

Khalt finished setting a new snare on the perimeter of the camp and walked over to join them.

"Child of Avachel," said Ferla, the tribe's leader and shaman. Under centuries of his leadership, the Trunalor had survived near-constant hostilities from their many enemies, including gnolls and other evils spilling out of the Gate of Iron Fangs to the southwest and the degenerate drow-spawned men of Dambrath, who had hunted the Trunalor for sport for centuries. "We welcome you back to the heart of the forest. What news do you bring of the outside?"

Trinculo's vast silver bulk seemed to melt around him as his form shrank and contracted into the appearance he usually took with the Trunalor, of a white-haired yet youthful wild elf dressed in outlandish green and purple robes. The form was much more accommodating within the tight nest of trees, and he enjoyed interacting with the elves on their own level. Trinculo was so full of energy he could barely withstand a moment of stillness. He wore on the nerves of many Trunalor but he was so relentlessly upbeat and good-natured as to win over even the most hard-hearted.

"Much news, Treeclimber," said Trinculo. His clownish spirit was often put to use deflating Ferla's occasional stoicism, but now Trinculo seemed almost as serious as the shaman. He spoke slowly, for one thing, uncharacteristic for him-when excited he could speak so quickly that no one could understand his words. "I won't be able to stay long."

"So you have said many times," said Khalt, emerging behind Ferla. "Even those times when you ended up staying decades."

Trinculo let out a ring of liquid laughter that cheered the hearts of all who heard it. He stepped forward and embraced his friend. "It's true this time, Khalt," he said. "There's much I must tell you."

When Trinculo was properly greeted by all the folk of the tribe, Ferla, Khalt, and he retired to Ferla's shadowed glade, sacred to Rillifane Rallathil. Trinculo paced constantly and spoke in fast bursts. He told them that the wy vern their scouts had battled near the Landrise was not alone in its apparent madness. He saw much more evidence of the same phenomenon, and heard travelers discuss such on the road to Three Swords. Finally, he received a magical missive from an ally of his, a copper dragon.

"Some sort of sickness is enveloping dragonkind. Fits of insanity, afflicting dragons of all kinds. This isn't the first time this has happened, but this is different… I don't know how, exactly. I don't have many details. Chalintash was concerned for the security of the message."

"A sickness of dragons," Ferla repeated, as if to dispel the ramifications of such a thing.

"Are you in danger?" asked Khalt.

"I don't believe I am," Trinculo said, in his haste running the words together. Khalt doubted his answer. "I don't know if this will affect the Trunalor. You can deal with the wyverns easily, but there may be other dragons lairing in the forest that I don't know about. Try not to attract their attention. And if the blues in the Gnollwatch Mountains rouse, we can only hope they point their claws at Dambrath and not here."

"But you cannot stay to help us face these possible dangers?" said Ferla, a hint of accusation in his voice.

"No," Trinculo said, his eyes drifting downward. "I have my own mission. I'm going to meet Chalintash for more information. I'm afraid I can't keep to Avachel's pledge right now."

The silvery dragon Khalt bore on his face was not Trinculo, though Trinculo often liked to pretend that it was. It was the Jester. Some knew him as Aasterinian, but to Khalt he had no name but Avachel. Many centuries before, the vicious Arkaiun Empire, the barbarians who fell to the dark elves beneath their homeland, interbred with them and became the Dambraii, terrorized their neighbors without mercy. They enslaved the gentle folk of Luiren and even dared challenge Halruaa, and among their conquests they sought the Forest of Amtar, invading the trees with a force armed with flame and axe.

But Avachel, a great quicksilver wyrm who spent his time traveling far and wide, happened upon the war and joined the elves against the Arkaiun. Many Trunalor died in the defense of their homeland, but the Arkaiun were repelled and never returned to the Amtar with such numbers. Erevan Ilesere, the Seldarine's Unseen Trickster and the god of elf rogues and wanderers, took notice of Avachel's actions and took him as a companion. In time, Avachel became a god in his own right, revered by all the goodly woodland races, and a diligent protector of wild elves across Faerun. When Trinculo pledged his undying loyalty to Avachel, his spirit was forever bound to the wild elves, and he spent much of his life living and fighting with them.

"I will not lie to you," Ferla said. "I would rather you stay. Our tribe values your counsel, your aid, and your spirit. I cannot hold you here, but I must ask, is there not danger to our tribe that you might defend us from better than any?"

Trinculo nodded solemnly. "Yes, Ferla, there's danger everywhere now. I don't want to leave, but I think I can best protect us all far away from here. Chalintash and his allies want me to go on a mission. He says that I might help put an end to the Rage."

"You cannot be dissuaded, I see," Ferla concluded. "I wish you luck and speed. May Avachel's strength never fail you."

"I hope you'll offer the same wish to me," Khalt said. "I shall accompany Trinculo in his task."

"Khalt, no!" Trinculo protested.

"You are needed here, Khalt," Ferla reminded him.

"Trinculo is in need," Khalt said. "He has helped us so many times, it's only right we do the same. I was weaned on the stories of the Unseen Trickster, Avachel, and all their adventures-would Erevan abandon Avachel in such a crisis?"

"Tell me, Khalt," asked Trinculo. "Just how would I be upholding Avachel's oath if I deprived the Trunalor of one of their best warriors in their time of need?"

"And tell me, Trinculo," shot back Khalt. "Just how do you except to get through this mission, whatever it is, without me?"

Trinculo fought it for a moment, but it was no good. He broke out into a stream of laughter that Khalt suspected could be heard in Dambrath. Khalt turned to Ferla with his index finger pointed squarely at his own cheek. "This tattoo is meant to remind us that the pledge goes both ways. We owe Trinculo much more than he owes to us."

Ferla sighed. "The impetuosity of youth. I leave it to you, Trinculo."

Trinculo shook his head. "I'll regret this later, I know. Saddle me up."

"What were you laughing at?" asked Khalt. Trinculo's discussion with Chalintash had concluded and the two of them had retired to their room in the Jovial Juggler.

"Laughing?" asked Trinculo as he paced back and forth. Trinculo was always filled with restless energy, but now Khalt could see every vein of the human form he wore bulging and pulsing. "When?"

"At one point you and Chalintash both laughed. What was that over?"

"Oh," said Trinculo, stopping in place. "It was at the idea. It's absurd. The Talons of Justice are rounding up metallics who defy Lareth's plan. 'Justice and good above'-that's their code of honor. And 'Honor and respect to righteous innocence.' Where's the justice, where's the good in this? Chalintash told me that two silver Talons came by his lair and he had to fly halfway around Anauroch to escape them."

We're nothing but rogues and fools to His Resplendency, just because we don't want to stick our heads in the ground, go catatonic, and hope for the best! Now if that's not funny, I don't know what is!" He resumed pacing.

Khalt understood Chalintash's decision to meet with Trinculo in an inn called the Jovial Juggler as a deeply cynical one. Chalintash was a copper dragon, and alongside mercuries they were said to be the most lighthearted of all dragonkind, famous lovers of humor and jokes.

And when the strength of the jester fails…

"Why did he point at me?" asked Khalt. "And you know what I'm speaking of."

"Yes, that." Trinculo looked down. "It wasn't about you in particular. It was about elves. Nobody's saying that elves are behind what's happening today. Not at all. In fact-"

"What are you telling me?" Khalt demanded.

Trinculo looked him in the eye. "Elves did it. The Rage. Elves designed it. Gods know how long ago… but it was your people, Khalt."

"Why?" asked Khalt. "Why would the elves do that?"

"To hold us back." The words seemed to give Trinculo pain even as he said them. "Dragons once ruled this world, and the elves wanted to take our place. So the high mages designed this curse of insanity. It made dragons reckless, fighting each other, leaving their lairs to get killed. It even made them devour their own eggs. Draconic numbers decreased, and so the elves could build their civilizations."

"But surely this was only evil dragons?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it," Trinculo said. "The curse affects all dragons today, good and evil. Some might say that was how it was inttended."

The color drained from Khalt's dusky features. "You didn't know about this curse before?"

"No. The Flights happened, but I don't know the cause. And Chalintash didn't know either, until he learned it from a kinsman of his who drew the evidence up from a human ruin under the Moonsea."

"But he blames me, nevertheless," said Khalt

"No," Trinculo protested. "He doesn't blame you. How could he? This happened millennia ago! And the mission he's given me… I need to tell you my mission. Would he give me this mission if he hated the elves?" Suddenly, an oddly genuine smile crossed Trinculo's face that seemed to erase all of what he had just said. "We're going to Evermeet."

"Evermeet?" asked Khalt. When he was young, a bronze-skinned sun elf came to the Forest of Amtar astride a white pegasus. The Trunalor politely refused his offer to abandon their ancient homeland, won time and time again with their people's blood, but his stories stuck with Khalt-could any place be as he'd described?

Trinculo nodded. "Elven high magic created the Rage, and so perhaps high magic has the solution to it as well. That's my part. We go to Evermeet and seek the aid of the high mages."

This is all happening so fast, thought Khalt. A tenday before he had barely set foot outside of the forest, and now he was on a far coast of Faerun, planning to go across the ocean to a place that some of his people thought nothing more than a myth.

"Why you?" asked Khalt. "Why didn't another dragon just do it instead?"

"They thought my closeness to the elves made me ideal," said Trinculo. "The elves are surely aware of the Rage and likely to attack any dragon that came close. But perhaps they wouldn't fire at a mercury dragon, especially with an elf on his back. Good thing I brought you. And there's something else. It's often hard to find Evermeet, even from the air. It's hidden by very intricate illusions. But I know the way perfectly. Truth is, I was born there."

"You were born on Evermeet?" asked Khalt. "Why didn't you ever mention this before?"

Trinculo smiled. "You never asked."

A sound like a mighty crash of thunder came from outside, and screams filled the night. Khalt and Trinculo ran over to the window to see. It was a clear night with many stars shining down, but no moon. Still, the improved vision of both elves and dragons showed clearly the glossy golden-rust form of a dragon swooping its way over the rooftops of Beregost. Its copper wings beating, its great tail lashed and slapped the passing buildings, breaking apart the wood and stone structures where it struck.

In one claw the dragon clutched a uniformed human, a member of the town's guard, still squirming and struggling. The claw squeezed deeper around him until his writhing ceased, and the dragon let the inert guard fall to the street below.

"It's Chalintash!" Trinculo cried. "He's returned, and he's lost. Khalt, he's lost to the Rage."

Khalt rushed to fetch Trinculo's harness, stowed underneath Khalt's feather bed.

"There's no time for that," said Trinculo. "I have to get him away from the town. Join me in the ruins." And with that, Trinculo reared back and jumped through the window, sending a shower of glass down to the street. With arms outstretched, he shed his false form, wings sprouting, his clothes melting away as silvery scales grew up all around him. Khalt snatched up his bow, quiver, and some other equipment, then quit the room with lightning speed. He dashed down the stairs, through the empty taproom, and out of the inn. Above, Trinculo made a high-pitched squeal that assaulted all of the ears of Beregost and alerted Chalintash to his presence.

When Chalintash came about to face Trinculo, he instead saw four luminous mercury dragons swooping toward him from different directions. The polished scales of each caught every point of light from the night sky and reflected them like a mirror, sending shards of light all over Beregost's sleeping streets. Snorting in annoyance, the copper dragon spat a thick line of caustic acid at the closest image. When it struck, the phantasmal dragon vanished in haze and the acid raced off beyond the town, splashing down into an open field to the west.

The three remaining dragons, which Chalintash scrutinized to find the real one, all wove and twirled identically in the air. Chalintash alighted on the temple of Lathander that dominated Beregost, clutching a towering spire in his hind talons, foreclaws and teeth ready to attack. A sudden burst of speed brought all the dragons sailing toward him. He slashed and snapped as the mercuries narrowed in, but his teeth and claws met only empty air as the illusions vanished before him. Instead, claws closed around him, the real Trinculo grasping onto his legs. With a powerful upward thrust, Trinculo uprooted the copper dragon and spun him upside down as he hauled him up into the sky.

Chalintash was larger than Trinculo, so the grapple could not last. Struggling with his great bulk, Chalintash lashed his tail, digging his sharp claws into Trinculo's flesh, bending his long neck backward to try to get a clear bite with his sharp teeth.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," Trinculo told him, wondering if Chalintash could even understand. Adjusting his flight downward, Trinculo held on slightly longer, grimacing as Chalintash's claws dug deeper, then released.

The copper dragon fell like a stone. As he plummeted to the ground below, Chalintash rolled over in the air and extended his wings to their widest, trying to use them to slow or halt his fall. Trinculo hovered above him and put his own breath to good use. A brilliant gold beam of light burst from his maw, catching his opponent full on. The light shone like a beacon that lit up Beregost and all of the surrounding farmland. Chalintash buckled under the intense heat, but his wings he kept spread wide.

Khalt watched breathlessly as Chalintash careened through the air, but knew that Trinculo's plan hadn't worked. They'd done it together fighting wyverns in the Forest of Amtar, but a copper dragon was much larger and stronger than any wyvern. By the time Trinculo's breath was spent, Chalintash had recovered into a secure soar, and was in no danger of striking the ground. Still, part of Trinculo's plan had succeeded. The course of the battle would depend on Trinculo's superior speed and wits.

Khalt ran past the ruins of buildings brought down by Chalintash. Men and women tore through the rubble, desperately trying to find survivors. Just outside the town, Khalt saw a line of city guardsmen under the leadership of a yellow-robed cleric of Lathander. They were standing in a long line armed with longbows, flame arrows at the ready.

Khalt ran up to the cleric and startled him when he shouted, "Hold!"

The cleric whirled to face him. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Don't do anything to enrage the copper dragon," Khalt advised.

"He looks mighty enraged already," the cleric protested. "We must protect our temple and town."

"He's distracted now," Khalt told him. "Launch your arrows and you run the risk of bringing his attention back to the town. Let my companion and I try to deal with him." He paused a moment before adding, "But if we should be lost, show no mercy."

With that, he bolted off into the dark fields, hopping fences and dashing past frightened livestock, making his way to the ruins. Occasionally he cast a look back to see the two draconic forms racing across the heavens, mere spots in the night sky.

Soon, Khalt reached the ruins south and east of Beregost. Once it had been Ulcaster's school of magic, but it was destroyed by Calishite rivals centuries before and now was little more than a number of stone walls and crumbling towers. The ground was slick with sheep droppings and surprised, luminous-eyes stared at him from the darkness. All was quiet and still, and it seemed far away from the deadly dance still playing out far above.

In the ruins there were two reasonably tall pillars, twenty or so feet apart. Khalt ran up and inspected them carefully, running his hands over one of them until he found a deep groove cut into the side. Its original purpose was ornamental-it outlined a panel where the dim impression of a bearded wizard stood-but Khalt knew a more functional use for it.

He pulled open his bag of tricks and started to work.

The cloudless night sky sprawled before Trinculo, each star like a tiny candle lighting the roof of a vast cathedral. As he spun and flitted through the night, he lost all track of up and down, so that the sky might be the carpet of the world, and the ground the ceiling. How he loved this! To fly through the night, every star rippling off glossy scales-the freedom of it! But not tonight.

Trinculo made every twist and turn his slender body could manage, every unpredictable to keep his from him. He pushed aside thoughts to keep from thinking of his friend. Every now and again, Trinculo..uuiu eaten juac a glimpse of the copper dragon on his tail, but it scared him to look. The turquoise gleam in his eyes had diad away, degenerating to a dull reddish glow.

Chalintash's blithe and generous soul was gone replaced by the cold instinct of the reptilian brain, w ltn an gentleness and warmth shorn from him, Chalintash knew nothing but fury and that gave him strength, but also made him reckless and thoughtless. That was Trinculo's advantage. Occasionally he would slow and almost let Chalintash catch him, and fly away in a new direction, and listen to Chalintash's growls of frustration.

Trinculo saw a white flare go off far below him and pointed his nose down toward it. But as he did, he passed closer to Chalintash, who belched his breath weapon-not the line of acid, but a white gas that rolled out of his throat and all across the sky in a noxious cloud. Trinculo swept through it, and gulped as he realized that Chalintash's breath had impaired his mobility. He travelled toward the ground just as fast, but not in a controlled dive but a random, dangerous free-fall, and with his enemy so close behind. As the ground got larger and larger, he didn't dare look back to see just how close the copper dragon was… he could almost feel claws grasping or teeth snapping at his flailing tail.

Like a silver comet in the night, his luminous, reflective form rocketed to the ground. Trinculo was plunging toward the darkened ruins of Ulcaster's school, frustrated by the tortuous lethargy that vexed his limbs and wings. If he could not react in time, he knew he would surely strike the ground. Though he could not see Khalt among the ruins, he knew the elf was there and what Khalt had planned. They had perfected this technique against wyverns in the Forest of Amtar. He located two central pillars that looked high enough and sturdy enough to stand in for the thick trees.

"Avachel, bless the fools!" Trinculo cried as he was set to plow into the ground.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to force his heavy body into action, pulling himself upward and directing himself forward. His bones were slow to respond and he felt unimaginable pressure as he struggled. His scaly belly raked against the grassy ground as he finally pulled free of his dive, sending frightened sheep scrambling. His torpid form sped through the pillars and when he allowed himself to turn his head back, he saw Chalintash do the same, just as he hoped.

An arrow hit Chalintash from above, penetrating the scale and embedding just at the point where his wings met his body, and just where he could not pluck it out with his teeth. He snapped back to find its source, only to see a gleaming white line tied to the arrow and leading back to one of the two pillars he'd just passed through. The tether pulled taut, and the arrow ripped a path through dragonflesh.

Chalintash let out a sharp squeal as sublime pain wracked his entire body. The shaft in his wing was an elven arrow of attraction, designed to penetrate the target and st» v in place through practically anything, and the line was enchanted with considerable strength, wrapped firmly in place around the broken pillar. Chalintash broke off his pursuit of Trinculo and spun back to find who'd shot him. He saw the elf standing atop the pillars where the line led, another arrow at the ready.

Khalt fired, the arrow flying right toward Chalintash's face. The dragon just barely dodged it, and closed a claw around the thin line that tied it to the pillar. Chalintash yanked as hard as he could manage, but the pillar was secure and barely trembled. Khalt nimbly leaped off the top to the ground beneath and dashed off, unseen, somewhere into the ruins.

Chalintash took the line in his teeth but could not break it. He flew forward to the pillar, inspected it closely. The tether was down in a groove set into the side of the pillar. The dragon scratched at it with his claw but could not disturb it. Something crossed his face, as if he were trying to dredge up from the quagmire of his mind the best solution.

"Back here!" came a voice. "Have you forgotten me so quickly?"

Trinculo had perched farther away in the ruins. Chalintash spun around to face him, but even in his Rage-impaired state, he was too smart to plunge forward and let the line pull tight again. Instead, Chalintash snatched up a large piece of rubble in his talons, lifted it up into the air as high as he could, and tossed it at Trinculo.

Surprised, Trinculo tried to scramble for safety, but still affected by Chalintash's breath, he was too slow. The stone struck Trinculo in the face hard and crumbled with the impact. Trinculo opened his mouth wide, blood dribbling from his broken teeth, and spat his renewed breath weapon at the copper dragon. Once again, the beam of light flashed from Trinculo's mouth to illuminate Chalintash's brilliant russet color, bathing him in scorching heat. Chalintash made no effort to escape, but simply stared at Trinculo, as he was cooked alive.

Khalt crouched in the darkness at the foot of a ruined wall and watched, amazed, as Chalintash hovered in midair, beating his wings slowly as Trinculo's breath consumed him.

It must be the Rage at work, Khalt reasoned. Is he not feeling the pain, or is he simply past responding to it?

But soon Trinculo's breath was spent, and Chalintash's only response was to shake his great mass so that steam escaped from beneath his scales.

Then, Chalintash turned back and pointed his nose at the pillar to which he was tethered. He was clearly weak, breathing heavily and his wings drooping with each powerful beat, but he rallied all his might and plunged forward. In a flash, he struck the pillar head-on, ramming it with his great forehead. The crack of bone against hard stone was deafening and horrifying. The pillar trembled but still stood, so Chalintash pulled back and struck again, and again, harder each time.

Khalt drew an arrow from his quiver and shot it. Chalintash spun at the motion, but the arrow was not aimed at him. Its path was between him and Trinculo, and when it burst into a white flare that lit up the ruins brighter than midday, Trinculo spread his mirrorlike wings to catch the light, redouble it, and direct the reflection directly at Chalintash. The brilliant flash of light burned into the copper dragon's pupilless eyes and dazzled him.

Khalt drew into his quiver again and launched arrow after arrow directly at Chalintash, each of them sinking into the copper scales.

The howling dragon, burned, blinded, and wracked with points of pain throughout his body, located Khalt's direction and bounded after him, summoning the remainder of his power. Khalt was well beyond the range of the tether, but when it pulled tight Chalintash pushed forward, his shoulders straining till bones bulged through scales, until the pillar behind him snapped at last. With a mighty crack it collapsed, and the copper dragon was free. Khalt fled as Chalintash barreled toward him.

But before Chalintash could reach the elf, Trinculo flew in from the side, striking Chalintash full-on and knocking him against a broken wall that collapsed under the impact. The effect of Chalintash's gas was only just then wearing off, and Trinculo pummeled him with laborious blows of claw and jaw. Trinculo pinned the copper dragon to the ground, and held down his writhing, struggling body. A hard-planted claw on Chalintash's neck kept the snapping, drooling mouth at a safe distant. Chalintash's struggling began to slow.

"Elves…" muttered the copper dragon through clenched teeth. Khalt sidled up next to Trinculo, holding an arrow at the ready, trained at Chalintash's face.

"What about elves?" asked Trinculo, digging his claws deeper into Chalintash's scales. "What about them?"

Instead of responding, Chalintash darted his head quickly, breaking free of Trinculo's restraint. His massive, snapping jaws thrust directly at Khalt, who loosed his arrow. It drove directly into the dragon's eye, and Trinculo closed his teeth around Chalintash's exposed neck. Trinculo pulled away a mouthful of flesh and Chalintash collapsed, a twitching wreck lying across the ruins of Ulcaster's school.

Spitting the meat out, Trinculo spun around until his back was to the dragon's carcass. He slowly walked forward to the fallen pillar that had restrained Chalintash. Khalt walked next to him.

"A brute!" Trinculo shouted. "A brute-that's all the Rage made him. He could have turned this pillar to mud, Khalt! It shouldn't have held him at all. But he didn't know his own powers."

"And a good thing too," Khalt said. He regretted his words immediately, and he saw a certain barely perceptible twitch run all through Trinculo's silvery body.

The dragon's claws dug deeper into the ground and he tensed.

"We've got to go now," Trinculo said. "We don't have much time." "Where are we going?"

"Where do you think?" asked Trinculo. "Evermeet."

By the time the sun rose, Khalt and Trinculo were well over the Sea of Swords. And by the time it was beginning to set again, they had passed the Moonshae Isles, keeping high and fast so as not to draw attention from any angry humans, or worse still, other dragons. As the sunset spread orange and red light all across the Trackless Sea, Khalt, harnessed safely to the back of the speeding dragon, asked Trinculo about their destination.

"It calls me back," the mercury dragon told him, his scales shining crimson. "Evermeet's crystalline lakes and graceful trees… and the harmony. Yes, Khalt. Everything you've heard is true. If your people had taken the Retreat, you wouldn't have to contend with Dambrath, bandits, or gnolls. You could have lived and made your life in peace."

Trinculo had barely spoken since they left Beregost, and Khalt was pleased to hear him speak so fondly of his birthplace.

"No struggle?" said Khalt. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Why do you think I left?" asked Trinculo. "When I took the pledge of Avachel, it gave myself an excuse to leave, to travel Faerun helping your people. But part of me always stayed on Evermeet. Even I need a little peace and quiet sometime."

"We'll land in Leuthilspar," he went on, "and seek audience at Moonstone Palace. I met the queen once at night, on the banks of the Lake of Dreams. For once in my life I couldn't find words. She'll help us. I know it."

A voice deep within Trinculo asked, Or will she?

"What will it be like when we arrive?" asked Khalt.

"They'll have a name for you," he said. "You're a windrider. All those warriors who ride dragons, eagles, and pegasi are windriders."

"I like the sound of that," said Khalt, feeling the breeze through his hair.

"The world's most beautiful cities, and the most temperate forests." Trinculo's tone became more distant. "Evermeet is paradise. To think, the elves only achieved it with this curse."

"How many millennia ago was this?" asked Khalt. "Probably no elf lives that remembers it."

"Still," Trinculo said, "it says something of the elf mind that would design it. To exalt themselves at the expense of all others."

"There is no excuse," agreed Khalt. His heart was beating faster. He needed to pacify Trinculo, and quickly. "I wish there was some way I could make up for the sins of my ancestors."

"Hopefully that's what the queen will do," said Trinculo. Khalt hoped that was the end, but then Trinculo started up again. "I just think it's funny," he said. "I'm a dragon, my life bounded by my pledge to some elves. Avachel is, or was, a dragon and a companion to an elf god. Does he know about it? The truth of the Rage, I mean. Or is Avachel kept in the dark as well?"

Khalt looked around him, knowing exactly what he'd see. There was no land in any direction.

"Trinculo, you're worrying me," he said, as he gripped the hilt of his dagger. He looked back at his bow and quiver, both lashed to Trinculo's side farther back along the dragon, just out of his reach.

"I'm really sorry, Khalt, really I am," the mercury dragon hissed. "But when you've just torn out the throat of one of your friends, we'll see how chipper you are."

"You had to do it. He would have killed us both, and destroyed Beregost."

"You must have enjoyed sinking that arrow into his eye," Trinculo said, "and tethering him to the rock like a dumb wyvern."

"I hated it," Khalt said. "I hated that I had to do it."

Trinculo laughed. It was not the joyous sound that Khalt had so often heard ringing through the trees of Amtar, nor the cheerless cynicism he'd gotten used to those past days. It was a terrifying, hollow sound, bubbling out from darkest corners of Trinculo's collapsing psyche.

"Don't do this." Tears were dripping down his cheeks, rolling down the tattoo of Avachel. "Do you want to be Chalintash? Stay with me… please, Trinculo. Don't leave me." And he drew the dagger from its sheath as quietly as he could.

"Are you going to stab me, Khalt?" Trinculo muttered through clenched teeth. "Sink it in the back of my neck? Or maybe if you slash my wings, you'd hurt me so badly I couldn't reach land. Is that what you're hoping to do, dear friend?"

His eyes full of tears, Khalt swung the dagger, snapping the harness that held him in place. He dropped the dagger and hopped backward to reclaim his bow, scrambling for handholds. He pulled an arrow of attraction from the quiver and spun forward quickly, ready to launch it into the back of Trinculo's head. But Trinculo dived sharply, pointing almost directly down into the vast, red-tinted sea below.

Khalt never fired his arrow. By the time Trinculo straightened out his body and flew forward, the elf was left far behind. The harness and the rest of the supplies slipped off the dragon's body as well. Trinculo didn't turn back, didn't look, didn't even listen for the splash. But a minute later, he felt a sharp pain, as if that arrow had dug into his brain. His senses unclouded and there was clarity again. His fury left him, replaced by something else.

Replaced by shame.

"Khalt," he gulped.

He spun back and scanned the water for the elf, desperate for any sign of him. But the waves were rolling and fast, and he found not a trace of the wild elf.

"Avachel!" he shouted. "Avachel, aid me!"

But the god was silent.

"I've failed!" Trinculo cried. "I've broken the pledge. I've shamed Avachel."

He closed his eyes tight, trying to shut it all out, but the Rage was not a force from without but from within, bound to the very soul of dragonkind. It thrived in weakness, in anger, paranoia, and shame. All that was Trinculo melted away, lost like a single teardrop into the sea.

The mercury dragon flew toward the sunset. He would not look back before he reached Evermeet.