“Under the whole city!” Linsha shouted over the uproar of angry dragons.

“Gods,” breathed General Dockett at this unforeseen possibility. “We could get the rest of the militia out.”

A massive bolt of lightning exploded behind them just short of Crucible’s side. The thunder was instantaneous. The force of impact sent them staggering.

Linsha clapped her hands to her ringing ears, yet she could still hear Thunder bellow, “Crucible! So the little lapdog returns to crouch at his dead mistress’s rotting feet. Your timing is excellent. I am in need of a bronze skull.”

Linsha shuddered in fear for her friend. He was large for a bronze and had grown nearly forty feet since she’d last seen him, but even at that size he was only slightly less than half of Thunder’s massive bulk. Crucible had participated very little in the bloody Dragon Purge of the previous ten years, choosing to stay out of sight and to kill only those evil dragons who threatened his territory around Sanction. Because of that, he had not attained the huge size of Iyesta, Thunder, or the other greater dragonlords.

To his advantage, he had a powerfully elegant build and the speed to compensate for his smaller size. He also had a breath weapon that could melt rock. A beam of light as hot and intense as the light of a star sheered from his mouth and struck Thunder’s underbelly. The white-hot light could not instantly penetrate the dense, protective scales of the blue’s belly, but it was hot enough to burn.

The blue roared in pained fury. Before he could turn his ponderous bulk around, Crucible fired a second long beam of light at the approaching foes then arrowed into the air after Thunder.

Through the dust and the tumult, Linsha saw the small body of the owl blown sideways by the gale whipped up by the dragon’s wings. She tumbled head over tail feathers and landed hard in the dirt. The Rose Knight sprinted out to scoop her up. She snatched up Varia without stopping, turned on her heel, and bolted for the courtyard.

Mariana, the general, and Lanther were already ahead of her. Like madmen, they ran from group to group, urging everyone off the wall, out of the courtyard, and into the throne room. Already, people were snatching up the wounded and fleeing for the open palace doors.

Linsha hesitated a step when she saw the small group of battered, weary Solamnic Knights looking very confused. They had just arrived and stood in a group around the commander. Sir Remmik was arguing with Lanther.

Hoping the other Knights would not recognize her in her helmet and strange, bloodied clothes, Linsha hurried close to Sir Hugh and hissed, “Get them out of here! We cannot fight a dragon. Live to fight another day.”

He glanced down at the owl cradled in her arms, gave her a brief wink, and ordered the Knights into the throne room.

Sir Remmik raised a hand to reprimand the younger Knight when a bolt from Thunder exploded against one side of the massive stone gatepost of the courtyard wall. Chunks of stone and splinters flew outward in a deadly hail. Sir Remmik did not hesitate further. He led the Knights into the throne room and followed the militia and the dragon’s guards down the stone steps into Iyesta’s splendid treasure chamber.

In barely five minutes the defenders of the palace abandoned the upper levels to Thunder and his forces.

Linsha, Lanther, and General Dockett were the last to leave. They paused in the palace doors and looked out. All of the living had left the courtyard; only the dead remained. Outside the gates they could see the mixed force of Brutes and dragon mercenaries make their way cautiously toward the palace. Crucible’s warning bolt had killed the first line of soldiers and thrown the others into fearful dismay. Under control now, they spread out and advanced toward their objective. There was no sign of the two dragons.

“Five minutes,” Linsha breathed. “You did tell him five minutes?”

Varia wiggled loose from Linsha’s grip, fluffed her feathers back in place, and climbed to Linsha’s shoulder. She stared up at the sky.

“Of course, I did,” she said. “There they are. They’re coming down.”

The militia general started in surprise and stared at the owl, but Lanther and Linsha studied the sky. It took the humans’ weaker eyes a moment longer to see what the owl spotted. Lanther suddenly pointed upward. Two specks, one bright in the sunlight and one larger, were diving toward the earth. Lightning split the sky around the smaller, brighter speck.

Linsha had a horrible vision of the bronze dragon tumbling out of the sky. In her mind, she saw his body scorched and broken, his wings torn to shreds. Unable to stop himself, he smashed into the ground in a heap of shattered bone and splattered blood. The vision was so real to Linsha that she cried out as Crucible dived toward the palace. He would never stop in time. He was too big. He was going too fast.

At breakneck speed he curved his body and angled his wings just enough to swoop out of his fall and skim to a landing outside the courtyard, leaving the heavier and more ponderous Thunder far behind. The blue roared in rage as he tried to slow his descent so he could land without breaking all four legs and his neck.

But Crucible was not in the palace yet. His speed on landing proved to be more than he anticipated. He landed briefly, bounced, skidded, lost his balance and slid heavily into the undamaged side of the stone gate. Linsha heard something crack.

“Crucible!” she yelled. “This way!”

Before the dazed dragon struggled to his feet, several quick-thinking Brutes sprang on him with their long, two-handed swords drawn. They slashed at his wings several times before he managed to sear them in half, but the damage was done. Other Brutes swarmed toward Crucible. With a snarl he scrambled over the wreckage of the gate and galloped toward the palace.

Lanther, Linsha, and Docket ran for the stairs to get out of the way of the charging bronze. He thundered into the huge throne room, skidded around at the head of the stairs, and backed carefully down.

One light beam, then a second ate into the stone roof. A crack, sharp and ominous, boomed through the room.

Brutes poured in through the open doors, their courage impressing Linsha. But their courage proved their undoing. A third beam of light from Crucible, as dense and hot as liquid fire, burned away the last support. The great domed roof crashed down in a huge cloud of dust and debris. It buried the warriors in a massive pile of stone, clogging the stairs that led down.

In the darkness of the treasure chamber, the three humans leaned against the wall, coughing on the mortar dust. Linsha heard Crucible breathing heavily and felt her way to his front legs. Elated, she touched him, unsure whether to hug his wide leg or shout her relief to the oppressive darkness.

“What are you doing here?” she cried. “Are you all right? By Paladine, that was incredible.”

“Ask that owl of yours,” he growled. “And no, I am not all right. We must get out of here. Get lower into the tunnels. It won’t take Thunder long to dig out that lot.”

Linsha bit back any further questions. She, Lanther, and Dockett followed the dragon out of Iyesta’s treasure room to a smaller stone staircase leading deep down into the tunnels of the labyrinth. Although she could not see him, Linsha listened to Crucible’s steps and felt the way he moved. He was limping on his right front leg, and his wing did not hang quite right.

At the foot of the stairs, Crucible sent the humans back into the tunnel, then he swiveled his head around and focused his breath weapon on the stone arch and walls above the stairs. This time, instead of cracking, the stone turned fiery orange and yellow and began to drip onto the stairs. Abruptly the entire section of the ceiling collapsed and poured like lava onto the steps. It cooled to the consistency of a thick porridge almost immediately. Crucible melted more rock until the stair was firmly sealed by a plug of cooling granite.