The Second Generation

Perhaps Laurana was thinking the same, for she ruffled the beard that only a half-human elf could grow, and made some teasing comment in Elvish that caused Tanis to smile. He bid his wife farewell. She kissed him gently, and he held her fondly. Then he bid farewell to his son—a frail and weak youth, doted on by both parents, who watched him with anxious, loving eyes. The young man was elven through and through, with no trace of his father visible. His complexion was the sickly white of one who rarely steps outside. Not surprising that Tanis and Laurana keep him locked in a cage like a baby bird, Caramon thought, considering the number of times they’ve nearly lost him. If he was all elf, he’d be content to spend his time with his nose in a book. But he’s human, too. Look at those eyes, Tanis. Look at him when he watches you ride off to adventure, to see wondrous sights he’s only read about.

“Someday, Tanis,” Caramon said softly, “you’re going to come home and find the cage empty.”

They trudged up the hill, to where the blue dragon was dozing, its wings folded at its sides.

“What are you muttering about?” Tanis asked Caramon grumpily.

The half-elf was regarding the blue dragon with a grim face, keeping a close watch on it. The dragon was apparently not pleased at the smell of elf. It woke up instantly, its nostrils flared. Tossing its head in disgust, the beast snaked out its head and showed its fangs.

Sara Dunstan was a skilled dragon rider, however. With a sharp word of reprimand, she brought her mount swiftly, if sulkily, under control. Caramon climbed into the saddle first, then reached down from his rear seat in the two-person dragon saddle to haul up his friend with an easy swing of a massive arm.

“I was thinking to myself that your boy looks well,” Caramon lied.

Tanis squirmed to get into a halfway comfortable position, practically an impossibility. He would be forced to cling to the back of Caramon’s seat—either that or sit in the big man’s lap.

“Thanks,” said Tanis, brightening, his proud gaze going to his son, who stood on the lawn, gazing at them with wide, almond-shaped eyes. “We think he’s getting better. If we just knew what was wrong with him! . . . Not even Revered Daughter Crysania can tell us.”

“Maybe he just needs to spend some time in the fresh air. You should let him come visit us,” Caramon suggested. “My boys would take him out riding, hunting ...”

“We’ll see,” Tanis said politely, in a not-on-your-life tone. “Any signs of pursuit, mistress?”

Caramon scanned the skies. It had been near dawn when they’d arrived.

The morning was well advanced now, the late autumn sun burning off night’s chill. There was no sign of any other dragons that he could see.

“With luck, they haven’t missed me,” Sara said, though she looked worried.

“I’m a dragon trainer now. I am often gone, exercising the mounts. I foresaw the need for this.”

She spoke a word to the dragon. The blue leapt into the air, propelled by its powerful hind legs, strong wings beating to lift it. They circled the castle once, in order for the dragon to get its bearings, then they soared northward.

“We will arrive at the fortress after dark,” Sara told them. “I regret the loss of this day, but, it can’t be helped, and what time we’ve lost we will hopefully make up. Will there be trouble with the Solamnic Knights?” she asked Tanis anxiously.

“There will always be trouble with the Solamnic Knights,” Tanis growled.

He was in an ill humor, for which Caramon really couldn’t blame him. After all, the half-elf might well be journeying to meet a son he never knew he had.

“But with Paladine’s help, we’ll get through it.”

The blue dragon glared round at them ferociously. Sara spoke sharply, and the beast sullenly turned its head.

“I wouldn’t mention that god’s name again,” she suggested quietly.

None of them could think of anything to say after that. Talking was difficult anyway; they were forced to shout over the rush of air created by the dragon’s powerful wings. And so they traveled in silence, flying far beyond Ansalon, far beyond known civilized lands, flying into darkness.

Two days left.

Two days to save a soul.

Chapter Six Fortress of Storm’s Keep

“My god!” said Tanis grimly, taking care not to mention which god he was calling on to witness his astonishment. “If s huge!”

“What’s the fortress called?” Caramon asked Sara.

“Storm’s Keep,” she answered. Her words were blown back to him by the violent wind, and it seemed to Caramon that it was the wind that spoke.

“Ariakan named it. He said that when those gates open, a storm will be unleashed on Ansalon that will destroy everything in its path.”