The explosion knocked Tarscenian off the centaur and onto his back. Out of the corner of
his eye he saw the Diamond Dragon arc through the noon sunlight, shedding sparks in gold,
yellow, and white. The dragon figurine hovered in midair. Tarscenian realized that its
paper-thin wings were moving, beating, and the artifact's head was twisting this way and
that. Heder-ick cried out, and Tarscenian saw that the High Theocrat's gaze was on the
Diamond Dragon, too.
Then the tiny ruby eyes of the diminutive steel dragon spied Tarscenian. It dived to his
shoulder, its diamonds sparkling in the sun. Hederick called out in fury. Tarscenian drew
his sword and once more plunged toward the High Theocrat.
Hederick was looking elsewhere nownearly straight up, above Tarscenian. The High
Theocrat's face was distorted with anger and horror. Tarscenian spun around. The stump was
gone. In its place rose Ancilla as the Presencethe vision of a woman and a dragon
combined. She had the eyes of a snake and an aura of undreamed-of magical power.
The being was twice as tall as Erolydon, and the lance that flowed from her midsection was
thirty feet long. The miniature dragon on Tarscenian's shoulder gave an unmistakable cry
of joy and flew toward Ancilla. Soon it was perching on her shoulder, too small to be seen
from the ground, except for an occasional flash of yellow, blue, or red from one of its
gemstones.
Tarscenian had nearly reached Hederick. Several dozen guards had joined the High Theocrat
on the stand. Under their combined weight, the wooden structure swayed and suddenly
collapsed. Hederick dived off one end and rushed into the temple. Tarscenian could see him
peering up at Ancilla from behind one of Erolydon's main doors. The Seeker priest
hysterically shouted orders to his guard captains, to his goblins, to anyone who would
listen. His bowmen showered arrows on Ancilla, but the Presence shed the projectiles like
so much sand. The Presence raised its mighty spear, described a circle with the tip, and
shouted “On respayhee vallenntrayna!” Its tail lashed the air, knocking over part of the
inner wall. “On respayhee vallenntrayna. Come forth, my brethren!” The voice of
the,Presence came from everywhere. People sensed it rather than heard it with their ears.
The tops of the surrounding vallenwoods trembled and jerked. “On respayhee vallenntrayna.”
Leaves showered the stampeding occupants of the temple. A sudden wind sent the leaves
whirling around the courtyard. “On respayhee vallenntrayna.” “Valiant mages of the White
Robes, I return your powers. Let them course for the good!” Upon Ancilla's call, more than
three dozen vallen-woods glowed at their bases. People fighting atop Eroly-don's marble
walls froze, then pointed at the trees. “I call you from your vallenwood protectors. I
thank you, venerable trees, for sheltering those who would fight for the New Gods. But now
these wizards are needed here! ”Carosanden tyhenimus califon!“ Then the courtyard was
filled with mages. White robes swirled as thirty-nine freed spellcasters chanted and
spread their magical powders and herbs. White robes flashed like sails as the mages
unleashed spell after spell. A goblin exploded near the dead materbill. Another fell,
screaming, beneath a suddenly toppling wall. Freed slaves killed a hobgoblin, and the
crowd another. Her right arm dangling uselessly, Mynx pushed through the crowd to where
she'd last seen Kifflewit Burrthistle. She found only a few charred pouches and the
kender's tiny cloak. There was no time to mourn the kender, however. A goblin bore down on
Mynx with the promise of death in its eyes. She raised her sword in her left hand. She'd
never fought left-handed, but she'd die trying. ”Cantihgnasf'ir wertnen pi!“ A bolt of
blue lightning, spitting fire, shot over Mynx's head and severed the mace-swinging goblin
at its midsection. ”Antin mrok mon midled alt'n." Another bolt, green this time, arced
toward Mynx; her right arm was encased in green fire. When the glow receded, the wounded
arm was bandaged, the pain gone. Ancilla as Presence was just lowering her claws from
casting the spell as Mynx looked back. With her left hand, Mynx raised her swordtip to her
helm and nodded. The Presence gravely nodded back. The Diamond Dragon sparkled on her
shoulder. And then suddenly the centaurs and mages had goblins and hobgoblins alike on the
run. The few temple guards who survived fled with them.
Erolydon's perimeter fell into rubble. The Presence's image flickered, so that one moment
Tarscenian saw a woman, then a lizard, a snake, then a dragon, and once again a woman.
“Hederick. Face me. I am Ancilla. Face me.” A dragon stood where Ancilla had been.
Hederick remained behind the temple doors. Ancilla sighed, and leaves swirled once more
around the courtyard. Her image flickered to that of a snake. “Hederick, I summon you. I
have the power. You no longer have the Diamond Dragon. It is back with me. I summon you!
”Cariwon velpacka om tui rentahten-Hederick.“ The temple door opened. The rotund priest
stood there, his robe streaked with dust. As he stepped unsteadily through the portal,
Ancillanow a woman garbed in white, but double the height of the crumbling temple pointed
a finger at the entryway. It collapsed behind him. ”Admit your pain, Hederick. Face it,
welcome it. And then throw it aside. Your gods are but a figment of this pain. Embrace the
Old Gods, the true gods, and you may still be saved. They may forgive, although you have
done much to anger them. She was a dragon again. Hederick merely stretched a hand toward
his sister and shrieked, “Witch!” “The Diamond Dragon is gone from you now, little
brother. It has returned to me, its rightful mistress. You cannot use its charisma to
charm and snare the people any longer.” Ancilla's image took on the form of a snake, then
a woman, and again a lizard. The image gestured toward Solace with the lance. “See how
they have left you, Hederick. Even your high priest has fled to the village. Solace has no
use for you anymore. Even your guards and aides desert you. Where are your goblins, your
other foul creatures? My brother and sister mages slaughtered them as they stood. Hederick
moved toward the huge lizard that called itself his sister. ”I am the High Theocrat of
Solace,“ he shouted. ”I will be the greatest Seeker on Krynn. There is no one who can stop
me! I will be a god! And you cannot stop me, Ancilla.“ Ancilla's dragon eyes glittered at
the man. ”You will stop yourself, Hederick. I will not have to.“ ”Impossible.“ ”Sauveha
deitista, wrapaho yt vontuela.“ Out of the rubble of the temple rotunda rose a curl of
mist, and then another. Hederick turned and cried out. The mist coalesced into the figure
of a massive man, who grew until he was equally as large as Ancilla. His shoulders were
corded, his face broad and heartless. Hederick fell to his knees. ”Sauvay!“ he cried.
”Punish this witch.“ Ancilla continued chanting. The apparition raised its arms above its
head and opened its mouth. A new voice throbbed through the courtyarda deep one, whose
words matched the movements of the godlike apparition. Hederick, Erolydon is foul. You
have spread filth upon my name. ”My lord Sauvay?“ Hederick stammered. ”The temple is a
tribute to you. I built it only for your glory.“ No, Hederick. You built it for your own
glory. And now you must destroy it. ”Destroy Erolydon?“ Hederick whispered. Ancilla's
Presence began to flicker faster than ever. Mynx looked at Tarscenian. The old man, his
face haggard with fatigue, nodded with understanding. ”She's weakening,“ he said. ”She's
losing control.“ Even as he spoke, Ancilla took the form of a lizard, then a snake, then a
woman, and a lizard again. ”She cannot control the god apparition and her own at the same
time." Burn Erolydon, the fake Sauvay commanded. Destroy it now. Or I will destroy it, and
you with it! The other mages continued chanting at Ancilla's feet. Hederick's minions were
gone by now, either dead or fleeing. Chanting grew louder in the courtyard, and the
building shook with a series of
crashes. One of the pillars worked loose and toppled between the Presence and Hed-erick.
Hederick whirled and vanished into Erolydon. Within moments, a new explosion tore through
the temple. Flames rose from the back of the building, from the area of the Great Chamber.
“He's setting off the special powders!” Tarscenian shouted. “The ones the priests use to
impress their followers.” “Will that be enough to destroy the building?” Mynx asked. “More
than enough.” “Tarscenian, my love.” “Ancilla?” “I am weakening. The building will explode
soon. You must get Hederick out of there.” “Let him die, Ancilla!” Mynx cried. “He has
killed hundreds of people.” “Perhaps thousands,” Tarscenian said quietly. But his eyes
were resigned. “I will hold the building safe as long as I can, Tarscenian. Get him.
Hederick may yet recant. I would not have my brother die a heretic to the Old Gods. I made
my vow.” The image of Ancilla began flickering so fast now that it was visible only as a
column of glittering light. Tarscenian raced into Erolydon, Mynx close behind him. They
darted around fallen columns and arches, and were halfway down what remained of the
corridor when Mynx screamed and pointed upward. “Tarscenian, look out!” A blazing tapestry
detached slowly from the wall. The flaming curtain fell directly toward the two, who threw
themselves into a doorway. Soon the corridor was filled with flame. Ancilla was calling to
Hederick from the courtyard, encouraging him to come out of Erolydon now that he'd set in
place the powder that would destroy it. “Never!” came the High Theocrat's voice from the
smoke before them. “You are evil!” “I am the only good you ever knew.” The sound of
laughter from Hederick. “You will die at the hands of evil forces if you do not embrace
the true gods now, Hederick.” “I am the embodiment of good. I will die here, in my holy
temple,” Hederick rejoined. He sounded almost giddy at the prospect. “Sauvay will gather
me to him.” Tarscenian threw himself into the hallway and dashed through the blaze. Mynx
followed. The vallenwood Great Chamber was filled with smoke, but the dense wood had not
yet burst into flame. The statues of Omalthea and the rest of the pantheons were
smoldering in the heat. Mynx and Tarscenian could see the open crates of red and yellow
powder that the High Theo-crat had piled around each statue. Hederick stood at the top of
the pulpit. His hands were up, his lips moving, but no sounds came out. Then, the silent
benediction over, the High Theocrat bowed to the empty benches. He beamed and smiled and
nodded like a potentate accepting accolades from adoring subjects. Then Hederick began to
descend the flights of steps, slowly and regally, still nodding to each side as though he
were leaving to the roar of a standing ovation. “Tarscenian! I cannot hold the building
much longer.” Goaded by Ancilla's call, Tarscenian and Mynx raced up the steps. Between
them, they wrestled the portly High Theocrat onto Tarscenian's shoulders, then fled down
the steps and out the lakeside door. The moment they stepped into the sunshine, Erolydon
erupted into a volcano of block, flame, and ash. Mynx and Tarscenian went flying into the
trampled grass of the western courtyard. They came to rest against a section of standing
wall and burrowed against it. When the explosion died away, the two lifted their heads.
There was no sign of Hederick. They made their way around what was left of the steaming
building. Every now and then, more fires would explode. Soon Mynx and Tarscenian didn't
even flinch at the continuing eruptions. “What are you looking for?” Mynx asked Tarscenian
after the old man climbed carefully from one jagged block of marble to another. The tall
man surveyed the littered courtyard. The bodies of Hederick's forces as well as those of a
few mages lay sprawled between him and the column that marked where the front gate used to
be. Tarscenian gestured. “There. There she is.” Mynx saw a huddled figure in a white robe.
Scars of flame marred the cobblestones on every side but did not touch the body, the robe,
or the cascades of curly gray hair.
As they watched, something shiny crept onto the figure's shoulder. The flash of a diamond
brightened the battle scene. With a metallic cry, the tiny jeweled dragon launched into
the air. Tarscenian bowed his head. “It would never have left her if she were alive,” he
said softly. “Not willingly.” His gray eyes were haunted. The Diamond Dragon darted like a
silver hummingbird over the desolation. Now and then it dived toward the ground, touched
the cobblestones with its clawed feet, and arced back upward again. It performed the act
at least twenty times. Then the magical creature moved outside the site of the former
temple building and repeated the ritual. In each spot, a tendril of green appeared. As
Tarscenian and Mynx gazed on, each tendril became a thick stem, then a sapling. The
saplings stretched toward the sky, thickened, and Mynx recognized the bark of vallenwoods.
The Diamond Dragon circled overhead, alternately swooping down to observe its handiwork,
then soaring back up above the rapidly spreading tree limbs. It plummeted once more to
Ancilla's body and settled itself into the angle of her neck, nuzzling the tangle of hair.
The metallic creature gave one last cry, and both woman and dragon vanished.
“Erolydon is destroyed, the priests and novitiates scattered. Even if Hederick has
survived, the Highseekers Council in Haven would be fools to give him such power again.”
Tarscenian paused and considered before continuing. “At least I hope so. That's one of the
things I hope to persuade the Highseekers.”
Mynx and Tarscenian were making their way along the road to Haven. “You think Hederick
might still be alive, then?” “Ancilla swore never to hurt him. Her word meant everything
to her. Yes, I believe Hederick survived.” Mynx turned that over in her mind. “Do you
think they will give you a fair listening in Haven?” “From what I hear, Elistan will turn
me an unbiased ear, but the rest of the Highseekers... I don't know.” Tarscen- ian shook
his head. “I am, after all, a fallen Seeker priest. That will weigh heavily with them, I'm
afraid. How heavily, we can only wait and see. Over the years, Ancilla and I grew
accustomed to defeat when reason predicted success.” Mynx turned her attention elsewhere.
She stroked the armor that Tarscenian had bartered for her before they'd left Solace. It
was missing a few pieces, but the pieces that were there matched each otherand fit her
perfectly. “Tarscenian,” Mynx said suddenly as she and the swordsman rode on through the
late afternoon sunshine. “Hederick and Ancilla were brother and sister. Why were they so
different? How could anyone be so evil as Hederick?” Tarscenian raised one eyebrow. “He
believes he is good. What he has never understood is that some of the greatest harm in the
world has been done by people convinced that they, too, were doing good.” “Nonetheless...”
“Nonetheless, Mynx, you are right. Hederick has caused great suffering, as you have said.”
Tarscenian frowned and gazed at the pommel of his saddle while he sorted out his thoughts.
“At some point in people's lives,” the old man finally said slowly, “if they live well,
they have to take stock of what is true and what is illusion. They must do this honestly.
Once they have gazed at what is darkest within their beings, they must move resolutely
oncasting off the shadow of illusion and living as best they can in the light of what they
have learned to be true. This takes great courage. I'm afraid Hederick was never brave or
honest enough to do that, Mynx.” “And you have done this?” “I did it in a tiny village
called Garlund, on the prairie just west of the Garnet Mountains. And I have done it daily
since then.” I'm not sure I understand this, Tarscenian.“ ”It's a long ride to Haven,
Mynx. We'll have plenty of time to talk."
*****
Tarscenian and Mynx certainly were making fast time, Kifflewit Burrthistle thought as he
bounded along the Solace-Haven road. “Won't the two of them be surprised to see me,
though!” he said to himself, chuckling. His pockets were full again. The people rushing
pell-mell from the exploding temple had paid little attention to a kender running
alongside them.
They'd paid even less attention to their pocketbooks and pouches. He'd lost most of his
own pouches and their contents when the materbill roared fire. It was lucky that he'd
foundso soon!so many wonderful things to replace them with. “Even a few new pouches,” he
murmured.
*****
A few nights later, red and silver moonlight glinted off the helms of twenty goblins and
one hobgoblin as they watched a portly man approach. He carried himself like a king,
double chin up haughtily, bulging eyes cold over bulbous nose, and a permanent sneer on
his mouth. “Still thinkhe we servants,” one goblin muttered. “Seekerfool.” “Shutup,
morefool,” the chain-mailed hobgoblin leader snapped. Hederick's foot caught against one
of the chunks of blackened marble that littered the area, and he stumbled. Only a short
time after the fire, and already the forest was reclaiming the scarred land. At this rate,
within months there would be no sign of what had once been the greatest wonder of the
Seekers, Hederick thought bitterly. “Magic,” he said suddenly. “Even in death, the witch
ensorcels me, steals back my Erolydon. But she could not kill me. Ha, not she! Sauvay
saved me.” Hederick stumbled again. “Drunksick,” the talkative goblin murmured.
“All-thetime now, drunksick he. If we atehim, weget drunk-sick, too, certain. He not last
long under Highlord, certain.” A companion guffawed, the hobgoblin hissed another warning,
and both goblin soldiers fell silent. They waited in the ruins and marked the High
Theocrat's irregular progress. Finally Hederick stood before them. He spoke first,
slurring his words but eliminating none of the contemptuous tone. “I see you have found
reinforcements. Good. I have another task for you: Eliminate Dahos. He has outgrown his
usefulness to me. His incompetence brought about the destruction of my Erolydon. I cannot
trust Dahos. Or anybody.” “Needmore steel coins then, muchmore.” Hederick lurched against
a piece of marble. “I've told you, you idiot, that all my money has gone to bribe the
Highseekers in Haven. They will rule in my favor. All but Elistan, the fanatic, but he'll
be a lone voice. I will remain High Theocrat of Solace, and there will be plenty of money
to pay you later. But you'll have to wait.” “You notgo away. You owe we! Owe plenty!” The
hobgoblin towered over Hederick. "You notgo
away.“ ”Of course not.“ Hederick hiccoughed. ”Where would I go? I shall remain in the old
Seeker chapel in Solace. My priests are returning, even Dahos, and a few new novitiates.“
Hederick's attention wandered. He seemed to be talking more to himself than to the
hobgoblin and its comrades. ”I still preach to the townspeople morning and evening, and
they support my needs. Sauvay smiles upon me. I have bribe money enough. Imagine: Krynna
Seeker theocracy, with me at its head! I will emerge victorious yet.“ Hederick shot them
an unfocused look. ”You will be wealthy enough then, vermin.“ One of the goblins in the
back erupted in what could have been a cough or a laugh, hastily muffled. The hobgoblin
put a mailed hand on the hilt of its sword and glared equally at Hederick and the goblins.
In response, Hederick's hand went to his chest, felt briefly for something, then fell away
empty. For a moment, his watery blue eyes shone with fear. Then his eyelids drooped, and
he staggered away from the goblins without comment or dismissal. A silver flask appeared
in his hand. His words drifted back in the night air. ”So what if it's gone, I don't need
it, I don't need her. I don't need anybody!"
Epilogue
Astitms, leader of the Order of Aesthetics, surveyed the scribes before him and permitted
a half- smile to grace his face for a fraction of a moment. Then it relaxed again into
sternness. Shortly before, Olven, Eban, and Marya had completed the manuscript, cut the
scroll into uniform lengths, and bound the leaves into a book. That now book lay atop
Astinus's desk in his private cell. He patted the tome as he addressed the scribes now
two, not three.
“You have done good work,” he said. “You are apprentices no longer, but assistant scribes.
Welcome.” Eban sighed in relief. But Marya said, “Where is Olven, master?” Astinus didn't
answer right away. Instead, the historian slipped off the stool, picked up the Hederick
volume, and placed it on the wooden cart by the doorway. Later in the day, an assistant
would list the book in the library's records and assign it a place on the already
overloaded shelves. “Olven decided that he preferred a life out in the world,” Astinus
said after he returned to the stool. “We talked long. He felt chafed by the strictures he
found here. Olven decided that he could not be happy for long if he were merely recording
history. He is, I believe, on his way to Solace.”
Eban's freckled face appeared mystified, but Marya suddenly smiled. “And you, Marya?”
Astinus asked her gently. “Can you remain here?” The woman nodded. “For the time being,”
she whispered. “1 have things to learn first, before going my own way. Perhaps eventually
I will follow Olven.” Eban looked from one to the other without comprehension. But the
historian and the female scribe exchanged glances of perfect understanding.