Dragonlance 08 - Dragons of the Highlord Skies (25 page)

Brian went back to work, giving Derek time to think things through. Their studies were interrupted by Lillith, who came marching the kender along, her hand on his shoulder, giving his hand an occasional slap—in a friendly manner—when he tried to pluck a book off the shelves.

All three knights rose politely to their feet. “Yes, Mistress, how may we serve you?” Derek asked.

“It’s how I can serve you, or rather, how Tasslehoff can serve you.” Lillith reached for one of the books in the stack dealing with dragons. Opening the book to a page at random, she moved it near the lantern. “Tas, can you read this?”

Tasslehoff climbed onto a tall stool. He settled himself comfortably and peered at the page. He wrinkled his forehead. “You mean all those squiggly lines? No, sorry.”

Derek grunted. “I’d be surprised if he can read at all!”

Lillith said softly, “Tas, I meant for you to put on the special glasses when you read. What we talked about.”

“Oh, yeah! Right!” Tasslehoff reached his hand into his pocket and fumbled about.

“I think they’re in the other pocket,” Lillith whispered. “Mistress, we are wasting valuable time—” Tasslehoff dove into the correct pocket and came up, glasses in hand. He placed them on his small nose, pinched the nosepieces together to help them stay on, and looked down at the page.

“It says, ‘The red dragons are the largest of the chro … chrom … “—he stumbled over the word—“chromatic dragons and the most feared. Although they disdain humanoids, red dragons may occasionally ally themselves with those who have the same goals and ambitions, which include a lust for power. Red dragons revere Queen Takhisis—’”

“Let me see that!” Derek snatched the book away from Tasslehoff. He stared at it, then shoved it back. “He’s lying. I can’t read a word.”

“But he can,” said Lillith triumphantly, “with the magical Glasses of Arcanist.”

“How do you know he’s not making it up?” “Oh, come now, Derek,” said Aran, laughing, “would a kender or anyone else for that matter make up the word ‘chromatic’?”

Derek eyed Tas dubiously. He held out his hand. “Let me see those glasses.”

Tasslehoff glanced at Lillith. She nodded her head and Tas handed him the glasses, though with obvious reluctance.

“They’re mine,” he said pointedly, “given to me by a golden woolly mammoth.”

Derek attempted to put the glasses on his nose, but they were much too small. He peered at the book through the lenses, practically going cross-eyed to try to focus on the words. Lowering the glasses, he rubbed his eyes and regarded the kender with more respect.

“He’s telling the truth,” Derek admitted, sounding astonished beyond belief. “I can read the words with those glasses, though I have no idea how.”

“They’re magical,” said Tas proudly. He quickly plucked the glasses out of Derek’s hand. “They used to belong to some guy named Arachnid.”

“Arcanist,” said Lillith. “He was a half-elf sage who lived before the Cataclysm. He made several pairs of these glasses and gave them to the Aesthetics to use in research.”

“How do they work?” Brian asked.

“We don’t really know for certain. It’s thought—”

But she didn’t have a chance to finish. A shout interrupted her. “Lillith, it’s me, Marcus!”

“Excuse me,” she said. “I sent Marcus to find out about your friends, Tas. This is probably important news.”

“I’ll come, too,” Tas jumped off his stool.

“You will sit and read, kender,” said Derek.

Tas bristled with indignation. “Now, see here, Sir Shinguard, my friends may be in danger and if they are, they need me, so you can take your book and—”

“Please, Master Burrfoot,” Brian hastily intervened, “we really need your help. We can’t read these books and you can. If you could look through them and find anything at all about dragon orbs, we would be deeply in your debt. You remember that I have pledged to help your friends and I give you my word as a knight that I will do my utmost.”

“You can be of vital service to these knights, Tas,” Lillith added gravely. “I think the golden woolly mammoth would take it as a personal favor.”

“Well … I guess,” said Tas.

He eyed Derek balefully, then climbed back up on the stool and, putting his elbows on the table, began to read, his lips moving with the words.

Lillith started back to the front of the library to meet with her friend. She had taken only a few steps when she paused, turned back, and gave Brian a dimpled smile. “You can come with me, if you like. Just to make sure I’m not selling your secrets to the enemy.”

Brian glanced at Derek, who looked very annoyed, but gave a nod.

“I’m sorry about the way Derek’s acting,” he said in a low voice as he trailed Lillith. “I hope you know that I don’t suspect you—”

“I am deeply offended, sir,” said Lillith, stopping. “I may never get over it.”

“Please, Mistress.” Brian took hold of her hand. “I am truly sorry …”

Lillith burst out laughing. “I was teasing! Do you knights always take everything so seriously?”

Brian flushed deeply. He let go of her hand and started to turn away.

“Now I’m the one who is sorry,” Lillith said. “I didn’t mean to make sport of you, sir.”

She found his hand in the shadowy darkness and squeezed it tightly.

“I’m not ‘sir’,” he said. “I’m Brian.”

“I’m Lillith,” she said softly, pulling him nearer.

Tall bookshelves surrounded them, fenced them in and cut them off, separating them from everyone else in the world. Dust clung to them. They had only Lillith’s lantern for light, and she set it on the floor in order to take both his hands in both of hers. The two seemed to stand in a pool of candle-lit radiance, even as they remained hidden in sweet darkness.

Neither was ever sure quite how it happened, but their lips met and touched and kissed and parted and touched again and kissed again.

“Lillith!” Marcus again called out for her. “It’s important!”

“Just a minute!” she called breathlessly, then added softly, “We should go … Brian …” “Yes, we should, Lillith …” But neither moved.

They kissed again, and then Lillith, with a little sigh, picked up the lantern. Holding hands, they wended their way through the bookshelves, taking their time, warmed by each other’s touch. When they neared the front, they paused for one last, quick kiss.

Brian smoothed his mustaches, Lillith smoothed her tousled hair, and both tried very hard to look perfectly innocent. Rounding a corner of a shelf, they came suddenly upon Marcus, who had grown tired of waiting and started down an aisle in search of her.

“Oh, there you are,” Marcus said, raising his lantern.

Marcus was not at all what Brian had come to expect of an Aesthetic. His head wasn’t shaved and he wore ordinary breeches, shirt and coat, not robes and sandals. He wore a sword and he had the look of a soldier, not a scholar. Still, Lillith wasn’t what Brian had expected in an Aesthetic either.

“Did the knights rescue the kender?” Marcus asked.

“Yes,” said Lillith, “we have him safe and sound. What about his friends, the others on the bounty list?”

“The half-elf, the dwarf, the elf, and the knight have been taken before the lord in the Hall of Justice. I stayed to listen to some of the trial. The lord seemed surprised to see a Solamnic knight, but I think he was pleased as well. He tried to do what he could to help them, but that strange fellow—the one in the cloak—intervened, and started whispering in the Lord’s ear.”

“You say they’re on trial? What crime are Sturm and the others supposed to have committed?” Brian asked curiously.

“Remember the bounty list,” said Lillith.

“Ah, right,” said Brian. “Killing Highlord Verminaard.”

“No one’s supposed to know that, of course,” Marcus said. “But a couple of bounty hunters got drunk in a bar down by the old docks and told the tale and now the story’s all over town. There’s other news, too.”

“Not good, I take it,” said Lillith.

“According to Alfredo—”

“—his lordship’s clerk,” Lillith explained for Brian’s edification. “Alfredo’s also one of us.”

“His lordship has been secretly slipping out of the city by night to meet with someone. Add to this the way his lordship has been acting—nervous and edgy and unhappy—and Alfredo decided to follow him, find out what was going on.”

“He took an enormous risk,” said Lillith.

“To give Alfredo credit,” said Marcus wryly, “he suspected his lordship of doing nothing more terrible than cheating on his lordship’s lady wife. Our friend found out different. His lordship went to meet with representatives of a Dragon Highlord.”

“Blessed Gilean!” Lillith gasped in horror, her hand over her mouth. “We were right!”

“From what Alfredo could gather, our lord is negotiating with the new Highlord of the Red Wing—a hobgoblin named Toede. If Tarsis surrenders peacefully, the city will not come under attack—”

“The Highlord is lying,” said Brian bluntly. “They made the same false promise at Vingaard. They pretend to negotiate, but it’s just a ruse they use until their forces are in place. When they are, they will break off negotiations and attack.”

Brian turned to Lillith. “The attack could be only a matter of days away, hours maybe. You are a Solamnic and the daughter of a knight. You will be in grave danger. Come with us. We will take you to a place of safety.”

“Thank you, Brian,” said Lillith gently, “but I cannot leave the library. You have your mission, and I have mine. The library has been given into my trust. I have vowed to protect the books, and as you say, I am the daughter of a knight, one who keeps her vows.”

Brian started to press the issue, but she shook her head with a smile and turned back to her friend. Brian saw that nothing he could say would sway her, and he loved her more for her courage and her honor, even as he wished with all his heart she were not so honorable, nor so courageous.

Lillith and Marcus were discussing Brightblade and his friends. “Half the group is still in the Red Dragon Inn, including a cleric of Mishakal and a cleric of Paladine.”

“Those old gods of long ago? People are claiming to be their clerics?” Brian asked.

Lillith and Marcus looked very solemn, and Brian realized suddenly they were serious.

“Oh, come now. You don’t think they are—I mean, you can’t believe—”

“—in the true gods? Of course we do,” Lillith said crisply. “After all, we worship one of those gods ourselves. We Aesthetics are clerics of Gilean, pledged to his service.”

Brian opened his mouth and shut it again, not knowing what to say. Lillith seemed a sensible young woman and here she was, going on about serving gods who had abandoned humanity three hundred years ago. Brian would have liked to question Lillith about her faith, but now was hardly the time for a theological discussion.

“I saw cloaked and hooded figures hanging about the inn,” Marcus added. “I’m certain they’re draconians and they’re keeping watch on these people. If the Highlord gets hold of a cleric of Paladine and a cleric of Mishakal—”

“We can’t let that happen,” said Lillith firmly. “We must bring the others here to the library. If the city is attacked, this is the one place they might be safe. Marcus—go outside, see if the library is being watched.”

Marcus nodded and raced up the stairs.

Lillith turned back to Brian. Resting her hand on his arm, she looked up into his face.

“You must try to save the knight and his friends. The draconians won’t take them to prison. They’ll take them to their deaths.”

Brian put his arm around her and drew her close.

“I will do anything you ask of me, Lillith, but first, answer me this. Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I didn’t,” Lillith said softly, smiling up at him, “until now.”

They held each other close for a long, sweet moment, then Lillith sighed deeply and said, “You’d better go. I’ll stay here to keep on eye on the kender.”

“I’ll stay in the library with you, help you defend it. Derek and Aran can go on this dragon orb mission without me—”

Lillith shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be right. You have your duty, and I have mine.” She smiled. Her dimple flashed. “When this is over, we will share war stories. You’d better hurry,” she added.

Knowing it was hopeless, Brian gave up trying to persuade her. He shouted for Derek and Aran, and they made their way through the stacks of books. Tasslehoff accompanied them, despite Derek’s repeated orders for the kender to return to his reading.

“My friends
are
in trouble, aren’t they?” Tas heaved a deep sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to go save them—
again
. Did I tell you about the time I rescued Caramon from a vicious man-eating Stalig Mite? We were in this wonderful haunted fortress known as Skullcap—”

“You are not going, kender,” said Derek.

“Yes, I am, human,” said Tas.

“We can’t chain him to the stool. He’ll only run off if you leave him,” Lillith pointed out. “You might as well take him with you. That way, at least you’ll know where he is.”

Eventually Derek was persuaded, though he wasn’t happy. “Once we return, Burrfoot,” Derek said, “you will continue searching for information on dragon orbs.”

“Oh, I found that already,” said Tas nonchalantly.

“You did?” Derek exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t ask me,” said Tas with grave dignity.

“I’m asking now,” said Derek, glowering.

“Not very nicely,” Tas admonished.

Lillith leaned down to whisper something in his ear.

“Oh, all right, I’ll tell you. Dragon orbs are made of crystal and magic and they have something inside them … I forget …” He thought a moment. “Essence … that’s it. Essence of chromatic dragons.”

Tasslehoff enjoyed the way these words rolled off his tongue, and he repeated them several times with relish until Derek ordered him sharply to get on with it.

“I don’t know what the essence of a chromatic dragon is,” Tas said, gleefully taking advantage of the chance to say it all one more time, “but that’s what’s in them. If you can gain control over one of these dragon orbs, you can use it to order dragons to do your bidding, or summon them, or something.”