The Black Wing (3 page)

Four creatures sat above her on horseback. “Human males,” supplied Kadagan, noting the
dragon's puzzled look. Khisanth had seen all forms of animals as a young dragon before the
Sleep, but never a human. She was not particularly impressed. The men were obviously
impressed with Dela, though, their stares entranced, covetous. Dela blanched,
flabbergasted by their unexpected and unwanted presence. Diaphanous wings sprang from
between her shoulder blades. She had cleared the grass on the bank when a fine net dropped
upon her. Its weight knocked the nyphid back to the ground. Two of the men slid from their
horses and reached for her, to secure the net and simply to touch. The two still on
horseback closed in on either side and waited. The men's hands fell upon the two-foot
nyphid crouched under the net. Dela's mouth opened in a shriek, though the image in the
maynus was silent. Two bolts of blue- edged lightning shot from Dela's body. The flashes
slammed into the chests of the men who'd touched her, tearing a huge, black-rimmed hole in
each and tossing them high into the air. Their comrades on horseback looked stunned but
unafraid. One had vivid green eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. Lashed across the rump
of his horse was another human, his hands and feet bound. The other horseman was small and
wiry with slanted eyes. They pulled their horses back just slightly. The green-eyed one
waved and pointed toward Dela. Abruptly, a number of oddly colored creatures, much taller
than the humans, streamed into the maynus's field of vision for the first time and rushed
the netted nyphid. “Ogres,” said Kadagan. “Why doesn't she stand and use the lightning
bolt again?” demanded Khisanth as Dela collapsed under the net. “Dela did not do it
intentionally the first time. The electrical bolt is our involuntary response to contact
with humans and others like them. Thou art not like them, which is why we sought thee.
Humans cannot help but touch nyphids when they see us, and we cannot help but harm them
when they do. The contact with them so drained Dela's energy that she fell unconscious
herself.” Khisanth remembered the tingling she felt whenever the nyphids touched her.
Shuddering, she looked back into the maynus, where a large drawstring sack of rough weave
was being lowered over Dela. The nyphid was carefully hauled up by the strings of the
sack. With that, the green-eyed human put two fingers in his mouth, blew, and the
entourage set off toward the south, horsemen in the lead. One ogre car- ried the sack at
arm's length. Then the picture in the globe blurred to the usual yellow glow. Watching his
daughter's kidnapping in her maynus globe had etched deep lines of worry into the elder
nyphid's face, cold determination into Kadagan's eyes. “We had heard that humans, ogres,
and even red dragons were rising up in the region, but we did not realize they had
encroached so far into our forests.” Kadagan sighed raggedly. “Had we known, we would not
have left Dela even for the few moments it took to gather berries and water for the
morning meal.” “I don't get it,” said Khisanth. “Why did the picture stop?” Kadagan
shrugged. 'The maynus is not sentient. Dela was unconscious, and it had no direction. Nor
did we. Joad and I searched for Dela all that day. Finally, when darkness fell, we sighted
her maynus glowing across the field where she had been kidnapped. It was several more days
before we realized it had recorded her capture.“ Kadagan could see that while the dragon
found the globe's ability to project pictures fascinating, she had not been persuaded to
help them. ”We do not ask thee to rescue Dela simply because she is Joad's daughter and my
betrothed." Kadagan paused, as if he, too, were just fully understanding the impact of

what he was about to say. “We are the last of our kind. Without Dela, nyphids will die off
entirely.” “Why don't you use the maynus to find out where she is and rescue her
yourself?” Joad colored noticeably at the question, but remained silent as always.

“We know where she is.” Kadagan struggled with the words to explain. “Dela sends ...
feelings, for lack of a better word, to Joad. These feelings led us to a village in the
south.” His brow furrowed. “When I was sleeping, he slipped into the town to free her.”

“What went wrong?” Knowing the subject was painful to Joad, Kadagan searched for gentle
words. “In his desperation to free his daughter, Joad walked into the human settlement
unmasked. Thou canst guess, from seeing Dela's capture, the impact Joad's presence had on
the humans there. When I realized where he'd gone, I covered myself with clothing I
borrowed from a farmer's wash line. I managed to find him, but not before he, too, had
been surrounded and rendered unconscious. That energy drain, as well as his sadness over
losing Dela, has brought on his muteness.” Kadagan saw the dragon's disgust at their
ineffectual attempt at rescue. “We are neither warriors nor mages, nor are we physically
strong. Thou art all of these things.” Khisanth stood and stretched her muscles, then
resettled into a comfortable position that resembled an enormous black ball with a head.
“Let's assume that I'm interested in rescuing Dela,” she mused. Her long snout was perched
on her claw arms as she regarded the nyphids with heavy-lidded eyes and asked, “What could
you possibly possess that I would value as payment?” “We can give thee something that will
grant thee unparalleled strength and wisdom.” The horns on Khisanth's head shifted as her
eyebrows rose with undisguised interest. Kadagan had to be talking about a very powerful
artifact. The maynus globe, perhaps? Its powers were certainly impressive enough for it to
be the first item in her dragon hoard. At the thought, the salivary glands in the pink
folds of flesh next to her second row of teeth sprang into action. “We can teach thee the
discipline of qhen.” Khisanth blinked in disbelief, and her images of a dragon hoard
vanished. “You think a tiny creature made extinct by humans,” she spat the word in
distaste, “has anything to teach a member of the mightiest race ever to exist on Krynn?”
“It is true that nyphids are on the brink of extinction because of humans. They kill us or
display us as possessions because what they do not understand frightens and intrigues
them. Yet those are also the reasons that dragons have nearly perished.” Khisanth pushed
herself up to her haunches and gave Kadagan an indignant poke in the chest that sent him
reeling. “We haven't. .. .'nearly perished'! We were ordered to go underground and sleep
until . . .” Her voice trailed off weakly, and Khisanth felt foolish as she realized how
slim the dividing line was between extinction and the eternal dormancy the Sleep might
have become if the nyphids had not awakened her. The notion made her feel foolish, and
black dragons did not like to feel foolish. Through her angry musings Khisanth became
aware of the nyphid's innocent, expectant stare; it did nothing to pacify her. “What has
any of that to do with payment for retrieving this lost female of yours?” Khisanth snapped
peevishly. Leering down at the slight fellow, she enjoyed the feeling of power her size
alone bestowed. Kadagan, however, was not intimidated. “Nothingand everythingwhen thou art
truly qhen.” But the nyphid could see that he was losing the dragon's attention to wounded
pride and mounting frustration. “Thou cpuldst use qhen to assume different body shapes.”
This time Khisanth's horns shifted with cynical curiosity. She had been learning her first
spells, those that extinguish light and create thick fog, before the geetna put her to

sleep. But shapechanging, that was a difficult and highly unusual skill. Khisanth donned a
mask of indifference, but the fact that she sat down again indicated her interest. “What
makes you certain I don't already know how to shapechange?” Kadagan's slight shoulders
lifted in a shrug. “Thou wouldst have done so to escape the pit.” Khisanth inwardly cursed
the nyphid's faultless logic. Still, she gave the young creature a skeptical glance. “Give
me some proof of your own ability to shapechange,” she challenged. “Change into a” She
looked around the field and spotted a creature even smaller than the nyphids on a distant
cottonwood. “Change into a sparrow.” “I cannot,” said Kadagan simply. “You propose to
instruct me in something you don't know yourself?” Khisanth stood again and looked about
for the best direction in which to depart. “Obviously you've wasted my time, so I'll be
go” “Male nyphids are the teachers of the race. We are not magical beings, like thee,”
Kadagan cut in, his voice still composed. “Only the females of our race are magical. Only
Dela.” Khisanth did not take a step, but her gaze remained on the forest across the field.
“But what about the maynus? You use that.” “Only on a rudimentary level,” Kadagan
admitted. “It is like having a sword capable of slaying an entire clan of fire giants with
one stroke, yet only having the strength of arm to peel apples with it.” Khisanth was
satisfied with the explanation. If the nyphid spoke truly and could give her the skills to
alter shape, her power would be unequalled. Besides, she reasoned, if the lessons proved
to be a bore or a ruse, she could leave at any time. Still, she had questions. Keeping her
broad back to Kadagan, she asked, “If Dela's so magical and you've taught her to
shapechange, then why doesn't she do so and free herself?” Joad hung his head sadly.
Kadagan's lips pressed together into a pale, thin line. “She cannot employ her skills to
escape because the maynus is the source of her magic, and she does not possess it. I fear
that even if she had it, she no longer has the physical or spiritual energy to use it. Her
captors have kept her covered to prevent the compulsion to touch her. Dela has not felt
sunlight for too long. She is despondent___” “This qhen thing,” Khisanth mumbled, turning
around at last, “will it take long to learn?” Kadagan and Joad exchanged hopeful glances.
“That is entirely dependent upon thine ability to learn.” Khisanth smirked. “If thafs
true,” she said, “then we'll be on our way before two moons rise.” With that, she circled
the fire twice and settled down for a night's sleep under twinkling stars, her first in
centuries. The nyphids sealed themselves up in their green pods to protect against
predators. In their silent, moonlightless berths, they, too, looked forward to a good
night's sleep, their first since Dela's disappearance.

Sultry summer rain came dowm in a slanted curtain on the rocks and brown pine needles
outside Khisanth's lair. The damp feeling should have been as tranquilizing to the
dragon's dark soul as a warm-blooded meal. But today, there was little that would soothe
her hot temper. Khisanth was seriously contemplating reneging on her deal with Kadagan and
Joad. The nyphids had already violated their agreement as far as she was concerned. The
yellow sun had risen and set countless times, and still they'd taught her nothing, not one
single incantation. They'd kept her so busy doing pointless things that she hadn't even
had time to work toward recalling those few minor spells she'd known before the Sleep.
Counting the petals of a wild rose, she fumed, viciously plucking out the stamen of the
fuchsia-colored one she held in her left claw. Inanity! A thorn found its way to the
tender flesh between two scales, and she flung the denuded flower from her angrily.
Kadagan had left her the prickly pile of blooms with instructions to contemplate the
essence of a rose. “What in the Abyss does that mean?” she'd ground out. “Thou must
discover what makes a rose a rose.”' “Thaf s obvious. It looks like one.” Kadagan had
smiled indulgently and said as he left, “That would be the conclusion of one who is not
qhen.” At first, Khisanth had swallowed her annoyance and risen to the challenge Kadagan
had flung at her. Her immense claws were clumsy tools for plucking fragile, pale pink
petals, as futile an exercise as using a broadsword to find the wishbone in a tiny
sparrow. Yet Khisanth was determined to prove to Kadagan that she had as much patience as
he, and so she'd concentrated on separating the velvet-soft petals with the pointed tips
of her claws. She held handfuls of petals to her flared nostrils and inhaled until the
spicy fragrance was as familiar to her as rats or moist earth. Her long crimson tongue
sampled both petals and stems until they no longer tasted bitter. But as time passed,
measured by the number of petals Khisanth had plucked, her forced patience waned, then
died. Khisanth slowly paced the confines of the small cave Joad had found for her. It was
not what the black dragon would have chosen for a lair. Her horns scraped the arched
ceiling when she stood up straight in the regal, threatening pose she liked best; thus,
when not asleep, she was forced to either stand with her long neck hunkered over, or sit
on her haunches like some eager giant hound. She wouldn't be able to stretch and flex her
wings here when the nyphids removed the annoying splint on her right wing. Bats and small
birds had called the cave home before Khisanth had arrived, but she had already consumed
those she had not frightened away. A large, stagnant puddle of water in the farthest
corner of the cave was the only source of pleasure for Khisanth in the lair. After meals
on hot summer days and nights, the dragon liked to splash the fetid water up to her neck
with her tail, then lie on the cool, dark stone-and-dirt floor. At least it was dim inside
the cave. Khisanth pondered the nyphid's adoration of light. They needed sunshine; she
sought the solitude of darkness. Why had she agreed to fol- low the training of creatures
so opposite to her own nature and needs? Greed, of course. The answer didn't shame her.
Instead, it supported her decision to force them to teach her as promised. Just then
Khisanth froze and cocked her head to the side. Someone or something was approaching her
lair. The underside of her long tail made a soft scraping sound as she scuttled to within
twenty feet of the opening, where the shadows would still conceal her. She pressed her
bulk up against the left wall. The burning green acid that constantly roiled in her
stomach stood waiting in the back of her throat. Kadagan bounded through the opening to
the lair. Shaking rain droplets from his

luxurious hair, the nyphid took one look at the scattered remains of roses. “Thou hast
been busy,” he said, oblivious to Khisanth's threatening posture. The dragon stepped from
the shadows in the foulest of moods, one eye half-closed in a furious squint. “Don't you
know better than to approach a dragon's lair unannounced? I nearly boiled you in acid.”

The nyphid looked neither concerned nor surprised. “I was aware of thee. Besides, I do not
fear my own death.” “Not fearing it and walking foolishly into it are two different
things,” growled the dragon.

“Come, Khisanth,” said Kadagan as if she'd not spoken. He stepped from the cave. “The rain
has stopped.” Still grumbling under her breath, the dragon followed the nyphid to the
ridge of trees downhill from the lair, where Joad waited cross-legged on the ground. “Let
us see what thou hast learned.”

“I've learned that I'm sick and tired of your games.” Khisanth impulsively snatched
Kadagan up by the front of his green tunic and raised him a dozen feet from the ground.
“Either you teach me to shapechange right this minute, as we agreed, or you can pull some
other hapless creature from the bowels of the earth to smell flowers.”

“Does a rose look like a badger?” Kadagan rasped from the pressure on his chest. His
expression was strangely serene. Joad had not moved. “Of course not!” snorted Khisanth at
the improbable question. “So, it is not a badger. Does it have the flavor of a moose?”

“No, it tastes like a rose!” “And how is that?” Drawn into the line of questioning despite
herself, Khisanth set the nyphid down on the still-damp pine needles. “The wooden stem is
acrid, and the center is sweet, com- pared to the rest.” “Wouldst that not describe an
orange or an apple?” “No” The dragon paused and thought for a moment. “Yes, it would.” She
grew frustrated at this realization. “Whaf s the point of all this?” Kadagan looked at her
straight-faced and said, “I think thou knowest, even if thou dost not yet understand it
completely.” Khisanth's eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to say that there is a commonality
between all things, and that the differences are but nuance?” Kadagan looked impressed.
“Thou hast learned more than expected. All I hoped for was recognition of the
distinctions.” Adjusting his tunic back into place, the nyphid settled onto a rotted tree
stump and wrapped his slender arms around his knees. “Any magical creature can learn the
rudiments of shape-changing,” he continued. “But a master of the skill brings all of his
other.... 'essences' to his new shape, combines it with complete understanding of the
creature whose shape he would take.” Kadagan paused. “The result is a magical creature
superior to the natural one. Anything less is simply a magically animated shell, no better
than a golem.” He nodded solemnly. “Thou art becoming qhen, Khisanth.” Khisanth was moved
to silence. She could feel an almost physical transformation overtaking her body as she
began to understand. The dragon shivered in the oppressive heat of the rain-dampened
forest. “I believe thou art ready to try thy wings.” Surprised, Khisanth looked back over
her shoulder eagerly. Joad was unleashing the vines and slipping the splint from her
damaged limb. “It's all right, Joad?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she gingerly
flexed her wing. “I've thought for several days that it was healed.” The joint felt stiff,
but not sore. She stretched it farther, opening the wing to full extension. The
pearl-white, razor-sharp claw at the tip pierced

the treetops. Khisanth tucked the wing back to her right side. Her heart pounded wildly
with anticipation. Raising up on her hind legs she stretched both wings in unison toward
the sky, furling and unfurling them with a rhythmic snapping. Kadagan's soft, even voice
said, “Canst thou launch thyself here?” His gaze traveled up to consider the tall canopy
of trees that grew dense some distance before them and afforded protection for Khisanth's
lair in the hillside. “I'm ... not sure,” muttered the dragon. Frowning, Khisanth searched
her mind for memories of flight. All she could unlock was the still image of a tightly
packed herd of extremely young dragons, barely distinguishable among the clouds of red
dust they kicked up as they pushed their way toward a distant precipice. She wasn't even
certain she'd been among the wyrmlings- turned-dragons, or if she'd just heard about
them.“ ”I think I need a ledge,“ she mumbled at last. ”Is the one above thy lair of
sufficient size?“ Khisanth looked over her shoulder at the shelf of rocks that formed a
hood over the opening to her lair. It was not overly high, perhaps twenty-five feet above
the ground, but it might be adequate. The rocky shelf continued up the face of the steep
hillside, interrupted only by the occasional low shrub. Below her lair, the ground dropped
away sharply; the line of trees under which they now stood lay at least one length of the
dragon's thirty-foot body from the cave. ”We'll see if it's high enough,“ the dragon said
at last. Anxious to test her wings in flight, Khisanth stepped from the protection of the
trees and into the sunlight that had chased the rain clouds away. How the nyphids could
enjoy the sun's blinding light, she would never understand. Squinting, she lumbered past
her lair and continued upward some distance on the shelf. That should give me enough room
for a running start, Khisanth reasoned. She raised herself high and extended her wings,
once, twice, as a test. Drawing in a deep breath to concentrate, she tucked her wings
tightly to her sides. Leading with her right foot, she took elongated strides, gaining
great speed as she approached the precipice. The ground shook beneath her; rocks tumbled
away. The clawed toes of her right foot met the edge first, as she had planned. Then
Khisanth pushed herself up with all her great strength, drawing her wings out and driving
them first down, then up. She plummeted like a rock. For five heartbeats, she scrabbled
and clawed and flapped to no avail. Then she met the moist ground and tumbled head over
wings. Breathing heavily, Khisanth let her face remain covered by her left wing as it had
fallen. She could feel Joad at her side, silently examining her right wing. She didn't
stop him, though she knew she wasn't hurt. ”Thou wast trying too hard.“ Khisanth's head
snapped up from under her wing. She glared at the nyphid, who was hovering above her left
shoulder blade, his own little wings fluttering effortlessly. ”How can I try .... 'too
hard' to learn to do something I don't know?“ ”Thou dost not need to be taught to use thy
wingsdragons fly naturally. Didst thou need to be taught to walk before the Sleep?“ In
truth, Khisanth could not recall. ”Thou likely took stumbling steps at first. But thou
assumed upon waking that thou couldst walk, and thou didst.“ ”Are you saying I should just
assume I can fly, and I will?“ Khisanth scoffed. Standing, she brushed damp pine needles
from her chest and tail and affected a look of disinterest. Still, she waited for the
nyphid's response. ”No.“ Kadagan shook his head as he alighted to the ground. ”Though the
skill is

natural, the knowledge is not. Thou needs to practice, but effortlessly, like a leaf falls
from a tree. Thou must stop caring about flying and just do it. After thou hast practiced,
it will become second nature." Kadagan could see that she was trying to absorb his words,
yet her natural hostility had wrinkled her brow into a scowl.

“Stop thinking about being a dragon, and just be a dragon.” Khisanth's thick lips ruffled
contemptuously. The nyphid's gall was limitless! “If there's anything I know more about
than you,” she stormed, “it's how to be a dragon!” With that, she spun her snout around
and thundered off again toward the shelf above her lair. The indignant dragon posed
herself as before and prepared to sprint down the hill toward the ledge. But at the last
second, she caught a glimpse of Kadagan, standing far below, arms crossed expectantly,
face tilted up to catch the sun as he watched her. Whether from spite, or some emotion far
more powerful, Khisanth abruptly conjured a brief mental picture of herself flying above
the earth. She stopped thinking of every step she would take, of leading with her right
foot so she could push off with the same. She commanded herself to move, to run, and when
her toes touched the edge, she sent no conscious message to her wings. She was over the
brink. Her wings snapped up, then out. The dragon's horned head jutted forward, and her
four wingless limbs stretched backward beneath her expanding chest, in starched, straight
lines, parallel to the ground. Khisanth was gliding. She saw the tree line fast
approaching and tensed for a moment, then remembered to simply be a dragon. Her wings
angled slightly on their own, and she rose sharply above the thick green leaves and into
the waiting blue sky. Coming at last out of the glide, her long, leathery wings folded,
then sprang open again with a snap. Wind currents tugged at her, jostling her as she
soared. She let the wind take her where it willed. Khisanth saw the whole of the world as
the gods had created itrugged land, shifting water, turbulent airand she thought what a
loss it would have been to sleep through her entire life beneath it all. Looking back, she
saw herself with an admiring detachment. The scales above her rippling muscles were sleek
and black like polished onyx. What perfect creations are dragons, Khisanth thought. Surely
as god-touched as the land itself. Ah, flying.... The blood-rush it inspired was akin to
that of gorging, especially when a tail wind helped her cruise with impossible swiftness.
She pushed herself on this maiden flight, past the first ache of her wing muscles, until
the legs that would help her land cramped as well. She located the edge of forest that
shielded her lair and let her body take care of the details of returning to earth. Either
she had flown too long, or her body had little practical knowledge of landing, because her
legs buckled upon contact with the ground. Khisanth tumbled head-over- tail, losing count
after the tenth rotation. At last her tail met with a stout tree trunk and she stopped,
unable to tell up from down. “Not bad,” said Kadagan, as ever at her shoulder. “Not good,
but not bad. Next time thou wilt know not to fly beyond thine endurance.” Khisanth was
still smarting from Kadagan's chastisement when she awoke the next day. She had wanted to
make him choke on the smug look he maintained during his insufferable preaching about
qhen. Khisanth had proven that she could fly, and the greatest compliment he could offer
was “not bad.” She'd asked him about it, challenged him. The nyphid had said with
maddening serenity, “Thou canst fly. So can a mosquito.” She'd cast him a scorching look
that made her golden eyes look like burned amber. He'd been unmoved. Then he'd left her
for the night. Before following the younger nyphid, Joad had handed her some herbal
liniments with the unspoken understanding that she should apply them to her stiffening
muscles.