The Black Wing (29 page)

“Where is the ring?” he screeched, shuffling frantically through the items in the box. He
sighed in relief. “Ah, good, here it is. Nothing seems to be missing.” Khisanth didn't
need to see Maldeev's hands to know which ring he'd been so frantic to find. She was not
surprised to see him step back and hold a gold-banded black gem up to catch the light of
the lanterns. In the yellow light, the high-lord's face was aglow with a smile of
malicious contentment.

*****

As the sun sank behind the mountains in the west, trumpeters in two crisp lines on the
temple steps announced Khi-santh's arrival. The black dragon touched a claw to her
sword-and-skull choker to make certain it was properly centered around her neck before
stepping through the archway.

Khisanth felt a bit light-headed, and only partially because she had not had time to
feast. She had the same disorienting feeling she did when shapechanging, as if she were
standing outside herself, watching her stiff-legged approach. Would she have the strength
to do what she must?

Khisanth was vaguely aware that the crowds of human soldiers gathered in the temple for
the union ceremony were cheering her name. She blinked away the smoke from the many
burning braziers and stepped forward. Maldeev stood waiting at the front of the temple,
before the altar to Takhisis.

The temple had been one of the first structures Maldeev had designed in the renovation of
Lamesh, and it reflected his tastes. Cold, clean lines, smooth edges, open spaces, all
arching toward the front of the temple, to end at the simple altar. The shrine to Takhisis
was really just a smooth black marble slab held aloft by two uncharacteristically ornate
columns. The pillars were each a carved image of a chromatic dragon with five intertwined
dragon heads.

Two silver chalices waited for Khisanth and Maldeev on the black marble slab. The trumpets
blared again, reminding Khisanth that she was supposed to join the highlord at the altar.
The dragon stepped forward mechanically, past the cheering men, past Maldeev's
second-in-command in the front row. Salah Khan's expression was as unreadable as ever
through his black head wrap. He stood without cheering, though he looked up and nodded
once as the black dragon passed him. Khisanth moved to stand next to the dragon highlord
of the Black Wing, resplendent in a red-velvet, fur-lined cape, horned highlord mask,
ceremonial dagger... and black ring. Wiib, the short, bald cleric who was taking Andor's
place, stepped from the shadows behind the altar, swinging a smoking brazier on a chain.
He set the brazier on the stone floor, took a scroll from the depths of his coarse robe,
and unfurled it. Wiib cleared his throat. “Maldeev and Khisanth. To blood you are
committed, by blood you shall unite your bonds to the almighty Queen of Darkness. Together
you shall fight for her glory and in her cause.” The little man lifted a chalice in each
hand and extended it toward the man and the dragon. Khisanth had to stoop down to receive
it. "Drink the essence of

Takhisis.“ It isn't, really, Khisanth reminded herself, but having met the Dragon Queen,
she could not stifle an involuntary shudder. The dragon took the small chalice of red wine
in her right claw and tossed it down her throat. Next to her Maldeev did the same.
Khisanth set the chalice on the altar and turned abruptly to face the throng, clearing her
throat. ”We have completed the highlord's portion of the ceremony. Now I propose a
traditional dragon ritual to signify and secure undying trust.“ Maldeev looked up at her,
clearly surprised, even with his mask to cover his expression. ”We will mingle blood.“
Khisanth held her left claw-arm out and raked a talon from her right claw over the tough
hide, bringing a fine bead of red blood welling to the surface. She nodded toward Maldeev
to do the same. The highlord hesitated for a moment, eyes shifting. When he could find no
reason or way to decline, Maldeev pulled his cape back from his left arm and slipped his
dagger from its sheath. Khisanth's eyes lingered on the diamonds twinkling around the
hilt, then blinked to bring herself back to the task at hand. Biting his lower lip, the
highlord nicked his forearm just enough to raise a thin line of blood to his white skin.
Her pulse pounded at Khisanth's temples as she held her enormous forearm to Maldeev's
small white one. Their blood collided. The dragon was almost physically knocked back by
the brutal assault to her senses brought on by the revelation of Maldeev's true feelings,
true mind. She saw hatred for all creatures, a desire to kill anything more powerful than
he, revenge, betrayal, greed, naked ambition, and not one ounce of kinship with
anything.... There was now no doubt in Khisanth's mind who had killed Jahet. Murdered
Andor. She yanked her claw arm back to end the excruciating mingling. The dragon's first
reaction was to rip Maldeev apart and devour him before his men. Somehow, Kadagan's
teachings penetrated her numb brain, bade her be calm, to think. The dragon despised the
highlord, had not one whit of respect left for the human. She'd had more regard for the
knight Tate than for this pitiful human who stood next to her, and she'd impaled Tate.
Funny how she had so carefully kept herself from taking a rider. Now she was uniting with
the most despicable human she had ever met. The words of the Dark Queen came, unbidden, to
mind. Trust no one. What you seek is a human worthy of your talents. Look in unexpected
places. You will know him when the time comes. Khisanth closed her eyes. She'd misread the
signs, selected her rider in the most obvious of places. She thought of Tate, remembered
her own comparison between him and Maldeev after she'd slain the knight. The dragon would
not be so foolish as to misinterpret the queen's words again. Khisanth became suddenly
aware that Maldeev was staring at her with a strange, expectant look. The dragon made her
decision. ”Maldeev and Khisanth shall not betray," she mumbled the traditional words,
knowing as she did that Jahet had spoken them before her. The difference was that Khisanth
knew what Jahet had not; the vow was a lie. The knowledge gave her immense power over
Highlord Maldeev. Khisanth allowed the ceremony to come to a close around her. All of this
pomp and circumstance was symbolism for the enjoyment of humans, anyway. After all, she
was Khisanth, touched by the Dark Queen herself. Astinus would record the great deeds done
by the magnificent black dragon in the name of Takhisis. She had only to wait, and to
watch her back.

Khisanth had been ever-vigilant as the Black Wing's ranking dragon. For over two years,
she watched for Maldeev's betrayal. So intently, in fact, that she didn't see the frontal
attack coming from Maldeev's second-in-command. Salah Khan's campaign of whispered lies
eventually earned him the position of highlord of the Black Wing. The masked human had
been like a viper in both dragon and highlord's ears. In many subtle ways, Khan had
reminded Khisanth to be watchful. In not so subtle ways he had told Maldeev that Khisanth
was too greedy to be trusted. The tension between Khisanth and Maldeev had become palpable.

Then one day, as the queen's war machine neared completion, Maldeev had decided to
participate in an otherwise routine drill, claiming he needed the practice with his
dragon. Without warning or consulting Khisanth, he had invited a new dragon to fly wing.
Remembering the last time the high-lord had made such an offer, something inside the
ever-wary black dragon snapped.

Khisanth clawed her soul mate's face to shreds, while Salah Khan watched. At least that's
what Takhisis told her when she pulled the insensate black dragon into the Abyss one last
time. The Dark Queen was true to her promise: Khisanth did not fare well in her second
meeting with the queen. Takhisis was most displeased by the murder of a highlord at so
crucial a time. Unlike the last time, Khisanth didn't even try to explain herself. She
knew there was no point. I seldom give second chances, Khisanth. Never a third. The black
dragon held her breath, readying herself for the killing blow. Don't force me to regret
making an exception now. You'll wish I had slain you here. The Dark Queen had sent her
post-haste to Xak Tsaroth to guard the blasted staff for Verminaard. A sentence that, as
time wore on and nothing of consequence happened, seemed more punishment than reprieve.
Heaving an enormously bored sigh, Khisanth leaped back onto the stone altar and reclined
on her haunches. Spotting the ancient spellbook, she picked it up in her talons and began
to thumb through the musty brown pages. At least she could improve her skills in this
wretched hole. The horns on Khisanth's head suddenly quivered, sensing vibrations from the
upper levels. Ears tilted, the dragon held as still as black marble, listening. Something,
or someone, was definitely walking above in the Plaza of Death. It was neither gully dwarf
nor draconian; she knew that for sure. Khisanth's heart began to hammer in anticipation.
She had waited so long for someone to come. The dragon sprang from the altar and began her
ascent the thousand feet to the ceiling of the underground city. Halfway up, she passed
the north falls, but kept climbing to the bottom of the well. Knowing she would need more
than ordinary speed to ascend through the well shaft, Khisanth concentrated on the words
of a haste spell. She gave one last upward thrust, clamped her wings to her sides, and
shot up the shaft at twice her normal speed. Khisanth burst from the mouth of the well and
into the sunny Plaza of Death. Pivoting in air, she saw her first human in years, bent
over the fallen form of a young elf girl. The man was a dark-haired, well-muscled
barbarian, wearing only wrist bands and a

loincloth over fringed leather leggings. The dragon's red eyes abruptly grew wide. In the
barbarian's hands was the wooden staff. Khisanth's weathered lips drew back in a smile of
anticipation. The barbarian was obviously of little importance, but he would be easy
enough to slaughter.

At long last, things were turning around for the black dragon. Khisanth could feel it. She
would soon fulfill her destiny.