Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (84 page)

they were the means of their own destruction."

"If this is true, the shield must be destroyed," said Silvan.

"But I doubt if even our strongest sorcerers could shatter its pow-

erful magic."

"You don't need sorcerers, Silvan. You are the grandson of

Lorac Caladon. You can end what your grandfather began. You

have the power to bring down the shield. Come with me." Mina

held out her hand to him. "I will show you what you must do."

Silvan took hold of her hand, small-boned, fine. He drew close

to her, looked down into her eyes. He saw himself, shining in the

amber.

"You must kiss me," she said and she lifted her lips.

Silvan was quick to obey. His lips touched hers, tasted the

sweetness for which he hungered.

Not far distant, Kiryn kept watch beside the body of his uncle.

He had seen Silvanoshei fall. He had known that his cousin was

dead, for no one could survive the dragon's poisoned breath.

Kiryn grieved for them both, for his cousin, for his uncle. Both

had been deluded by Glaucous. Both had paid the price. Kiryn

had knelt beside his uncle to wait for his own death, wait for the

dragon to slay them.

Kiryn watched, astonished, to see the human girl, Mina, lift

her head and regain her feet. She was strong, alert, seemingly un-

touched by the poison. She looked down at Silvanoshei, lying at

her side. She kissed the lifeless lips, and to Kiryn's amazement

and unease, his cousin drew in a breath.

Kiryn saw Mina act to rally the flagging spirits of the elven

archers. He heard her voice, crying out the order to fire in Elvish.

He watched his people rally, watched them battle back against

their foe. He watched the dragon die.

He watched all with boundless gladness, a gladness that

brought tears to his eyes, but with a sense of unease in his heart.

Why had the human done this? What was her reason? Why

had she watched her army kill elves one day and acted to save

elves the next?

He watched her embrace Silvan. Kiryn wanted to run to them,

to snatch his cousin away from the girl's touch. He wanted to

shake him, shake some sense into him. But Silvan would not

listen.

And why should he? Kiryn thought.

He himself was confused, stunned by the day's awful events.

Why should his cousin listen to Kiryn's words of warning when

the only proof he could offer of their veracity was a dark shadow

that passed over his soul every time he looked upon the girl, Mina.

Kiryn turned away from them. Reaching down, he closed his

uncle's staring eyes with a gentle touch. His duty, as a nephew,

was to the dead.

"Come with me, Silvan," Mina urged him, her lips soft against

his cheek. "Do this for your people."

"I do this for you, Mina," Silvan whispered. Closing his eyes,

he placed his lips on hers.

Her kiss was honey, yet it stung him. He drank in the sweet-

ness; flinched from the searing pain. She drew him into darkness,

a darkness that was like the darkness of the storm cloud. Her kiss

was like the lightning bolt, blinded him, sent him tumbling over

the edge of a precipice. He could not stop his fall. He crashed

against rocks, felt his bones breaking, his body bruised and

aching. The pain was excruciating, and the pain was ecstasy. He

wanted it to end so badly that he would have been glad for death.

He wanted the pain to last beyond forever.

Her lips drew away from his, the spell was broken.

As though he had come back from the dead, Silvan opened his

eyes and was amazed to see the sun, the blood-red sun of twi-

light. Yet it had been noontime when he had kissed her. Hours

had passed, seemingly, but where had they gone? Lost in her, for-

gotten in her. All around him was still and quiet. The dragon had

vanished. The armies were nowhere in sight. His cousin was

gone. Silvan slowly realized that he no longer stood on the fie'd

of battle. He was in a garden, a garden he dimly recognized by

the fading light of the waning sun.

I know this place, he thought dazedly. It seems familiar. Yet

where I am? And how do I come to be here? Mina! Mina! He was

momentarily panicked, thinking he had lost her.

He felt her hand close over his, and he sighed deeply and

clasped his hand over hers.

I stand in the Garden of Astarin, he realized. The palace garden.

A garden I can see from my bedroom window. I came here once,

and I hated it. The place made my flesh crawl. There-a dead

plant. And another and another. A tree dying as I watch, its leaves

curling and twisting as if in pain, turning gray, falling off. The only

reason there are any living plants at all in this garden is because the

palace gardeners and the Woodshapers replace the dead plants

with living plants from their own personal gardens. Yet, to bring

anything living into this garden is to sentence it to death.

Only one tree survives in this garden. The tree in the very

heart of the garden. The tree they call the Shield Tree, because it

was once surrounded by a luminous shield nothing could pene-

trate. Glaucous claimed the magic of the tree kept the shield in

place. So it does, but the tree's roots do not draw nourishment

from the soil. The tree's roots extend into the heart of every elf in

Silvanesti.

He felt the tree's roots coiling inside him.

Taking hold of Mina by the hand, Silvanoshei led her through

the dying garden to the tree that grew in the center. The Shield

Tree lived. The Shield Tree thrived. The Shield tree's leaves were

green and healthy, green as the scales of the green dragon. The

Shield Tree's trunk was blood-colored, seemed to ooze blood, as

they looked at it. Its limbs contorted, wriggled like snakes.

I must uproot the tree. I am the Grandson of Lorac. I must tear

the tree's roots from the hearts of my people, and so I will free

them. Yet I am loathe to touch the evil thing. I'll find an axe, chop

it down.

Though you were to chop it down a hundred times, a voice whis-

pered to him, a hundred times it would grow back.~;~---/

It will die, now that Cyan Bloodbane is dead. He was the one

who kept it alive.

You are the one keeping it alive. Mina spoke no word, but she

laid her hand on his heart. You and your people. Can't you feel its

roots twisting and turning inside you, sapping your strength, sucking

the very life from you?

Silvan could feel something wringing his heart, but whether it

was the evil of the tree or the touch of her hand, he could not tell.

He caught up her hand and kissed it. Leaving her standing on

the path, among the dying plants, he walked toward the living

tree. The tree sensed its danger. Gray vines twined around his

ankles. Dead branches fell on him, struck him on the back and on

his shoulder. He kicked at the vines and tossed the branches away

from him.

As he drew near the tree, he felt the weakness. He felt it grow

on him the closer he came. The tree sought to kill him as it had

killed so many before him. Its sap ran red with the blood of. his

people. Every shining leaf was the soul of a murdered elf.

The tree was tall, but its trunk was spindly. Silvan could easily

place his hands around it. He was weak and wobbly from the

aftereffects of the poison and wondered if he would have the

strength to pull it from the ground.

You have the strength. You alone.

Silvan 'wrapped his hands around the tree trunk. The trunk

writhed in his grasp like a snake, and he shuddered at the horri-

ble feeling.

He let loose, fell back. If the shield falls, he thought, suddenly

assailed by doubt, our land will lie unprotected.

The Silvanesti nation has stood proudly for centuries protected by

the courage and skill of its warriors. Those days of glory will return. The

days when the world respected the elves and honored them and feared

them. You will be king of a powerful nation, a powerful people.

I will be king, Silvan repeated to himself. She will see me puis-

sant, noble, and she will love me.

He planted his feet on the ground. He took firm hold of -the

slithering tree trunk and, summoning strength from his excite-

ment, his love, his ambition, his dreams, he gave a great heave.

into his own heart for when it released, his strength and his will

increased. He pulled and tugged, his shoulders straining. He felt

more roots give, and he redoubled his efforts.

"For Mina!" he said beneath his breath.

The roots let go their hold so suddenly that Silvan toppled

over backward. The tree came crashing down on top of him. He

was unhurt, but he could see nothing for the leaves and twigs and

branches that covered him.

Angry, feeling that he must look a fool, he crawled out from

under. His face flushed with triumph and embarrassment, he

wiped the dirt and the muck from his hands.

The sun shone hot on his face. Looking up, Silvan saw the

sun, saw it shining with an angry red fire. No gauzy curtain ob-

scured its rays, no shimmering aura filtered its light. He found he

could not look directly at the blazing sun, could not look any-

where near it. The sight was painful, hurt his eyes. Blinking away

tears, he could see nothing except a black spot where the sun had

been.

"Mina!" he cried, shading his eyes, trying to see her. "Look,

Mina! Your God was right. The shield is down!"

Silvan stumbled out onto the path. He could not yet see

clearly. "Mina?" he cried. "Mina?"

Silvan called and called. He called long after the sun had

fallen from the sky, called long into the darkness. He called her

name until he had no voice left, and then he whispered it.

"Mina!"

No answer came.

CHAPTER THIRTYTHREE

FOR LOVE OF MINA

Galdar had'not slept since the day of the battle. He kept

watch all the long night, standing just inside the shadows

of the caves where what remained of the forces of her

Knights had taken refuge. He refused to relinquish his post to

anyone, although several had offered to relieve him of his self-im-

posed duty. He shook his homed head to all proposals, sent the

men away, and eventually they quit coming.

The men who had survived the battle lay in the caves, tired

and frightened, speaking little. The wounded did their best to

stifle their groans and cries, afraid that the noise would draw

down the enemy upon them. Mostly they whispered a name, her

name and wondered why she did not come to comfort them.

Those who died did so with her name on their lips.

Galdar was not watching for the enemy. That duty was being

handled by others. Pickets crouched in the thick foliage on watch

for any elven scout who might happen to stumble upon their

hiding place. Two elves did so, early this morning. The pickets

dealt with them swiftly and silently, breaking their necks and

throwing the bodies into the deep and swift-flowing Thon- Thalas.

Galdar was furious when he found out that his men had ac-

tually captured the two elves alive before killing them.

"I wanted to question them, you dolts!" he cried in a rage,

raising his hand to strike one of the scouts.

"Relax, Galdar," Samuval admonished, placing his hand on

the minotaur's fur-covered arm. "What good would torturing

them have done? The elves would only refuse to talk, and their

screams would be heard for miles."

"They would tell me what they have done with her," Galdar

said, lowering his arm, but glowering viciously at the scouts, who

beat a hasty retreat. "They would tell me where she was being

held. I would see to that." He clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Mina left orders that no prisoners were to be taken, Galdar.

She ordered that any elf we found was to be put immediately to

death. You vowed to obey her orders. Would you be foresworn?"

Samuval asked.

"I'll keep my vow." Galdar growled and took up his post

again. "I promised her, and I will keep my promise. Didn't I keep

it yesterday? I stood there and watched her taken captive by that

bastard elven king. Captured alive by her most bitter enem}'

ried off in triumph to what terrible fate? To be made sport of, to

be made a slave, to be tormented, killed. I promised her I would

not interfere, and I kept my word. But I am sorry now that I did

so," he added with a bitter oath.

"Remember what she said, my friend," Samuval said quietly.

"Remember her words. 'They think they will make me their cap-

tive. But in so doing I will capture them, every single one.' Re-

member that, and do not lose your faith."

Galdar stood at the entrance to the cave all that morning. He

saw the sun rise to its zenith, saw its angry eye glare through the

shield, and he envied it fiercely, for the sun could see Mina and

he could not.

He watched in wonder the fight with the green dragon, saw

the sky rain blood and green scales. Galdar had no love for

dragons, even those who fought on his side. An old minotaur