Unable to feel her own hindquarters through the searing pain, Khisanth was about to pump another blast into Talon. They smashed into the ground, Khisanth atop Talon. Khisanth was stunned for several moments, but reflexively maintained her bite on her enemy's throat. As she regained her senses, her front claws pinned the beast's neck, and she tore upward, nearly ripping Talon's head free of his body.

The black dragon was already dead, suffocated, consumed by the ravenous acid. Clouds of steam billowed upward from the hissing, bubbling wound. Acid from Talon's stomach seeped out through the horrid slashes and punctures in his abdomen and sputtered on the ground.

Khisanth raised her head in a thunderous bellow of victory. Her head swam and her body throbbed. She tasted Talon's bit shy;ter blood on her fangs, and her own blood raced.

Then she saw Pteros and the other dragon circling and swooping high overhead. Both dragons bled from numerous wounds. Pteros's wings were tattered. Still he managed to stay in the air. For all his fear and worry, Pteros's age and experi shy;ence still showed in the contest with the much younger beast. Everything Pteros lacked in speed and reflexes he made up in

cunning.

Time after time they raced past each other, claws raking and acid erupting. On their eighth or ninth pass-Khisanth had lost count-Pteros suddenly rolled, exposing his belly but also bringing his powerful rear claws into the attack. One of the enormous, hooked talons sliced through the other dragon's hide and snagged a rib. The younger beast snapped as if a leash had been pulled, then spun out of control through the sky. Khisanth could see that her flank was torn apart, the rib pulled outward. From the flailing of the body she guessed she was still alive, but barely.

For many long seconds the body plunged, finally crashing into the stones of the ruined castle. The impact shook apart a nearby portion of wall, and its collapse added to the din and debris. Khisanth could see the body as the dust cleared, bent unnaturally around its broken spine.

Khisanth struggled to her feet. The fire in her back legs and tail was gone, replaced by a throbbing ache. She could see that many of her scales were gone, revealing raw patches of burned flesh. But though these wounds hurt, she could walk and believed she could fly.

With her anger once again building, she watched Pteros's descent. She was tempted to take wing and attack him in the air, but something in his manner held her back. He was still high above the ground and dropping fast when he suddenly

crumpled, then crashed into the mossy bog like a stone.

Khisanth approached him, ready to exhale a deadly cloud at the first sign of attack. Pteros lay on his side, watching through heavy eyes as she approached. When she neared, he raised his head, struggling to get to his feet. He couldn't.

Pteros's left wing was broken and nearly amputated; Khi shy;santh marveled that he had flown at all. But the real wound was in his abdomen. In turning to attack the young dragon, he had exposed his belly, and the monster had slit Pteros open. The claws of his right rear foot were embedded in his own flesh, trying to keep the wound from opening. Even so, Khi shy;santh could see his organs pressing out as Pteros's own bulk sought to burst him open.

"You meant to abandon me to your enemies. Did our blood-mingling mean nothing?"

"I didn't mean to betray you." The strength of his voice sur shy;prised Khisanth, who expected to hear a dying rasp. "I was just so frightened. Long ago, Talon drove me from my lair in this stronghold and stole my hoard."

"You must have known there were two. Why did you never tell me about the other dragon?" she demanded.

Pteros gulped stiffly as a spasm rocked his body. "I didn't know, I swear it. Thaf s why I was so scared."

Khisanth felt nothing but pity for the dragon she'd once revered for his venerable age. He was now as terrified of dying as he had been of living. Half in anger, have in mercy, Khi shy;santh stepped forward and placed her left foot on Pteros's neck, pressing it to the ground. The ancient dragon looked up at her helplessly as the talons of her right claw sliced across his throat.

"The Dark Queen calls you, Pteros. Go to her bravely in death as you would not in life." She knew the dying dragon heard her, but could not reply. Slowly, the life disappeared from his eyes. Pteros's wrinkled lids closed one last time. Once again, Khisanth stood alone in her realm.

Part Three

Chapter 14

Highlord Maldeev's admiration for his black dragons was undisguised as he studied his two best wyrms engaged in mock battle above Shalimsha Tower's drill field. Directly behind him to the north were the makeshift tents of the bulk of his troops. Past the encampment was the tower itself.

The highlord's appearance on the reviewing stand this day was as much ceremonial as official. As a consequence, he was wearing his battle regalia of crimson enameled plate armor with the dragon highlord helmet that completely enclosed his head and face. The mask was a simple affair, smooth at the sides and top, save for the two horns, with generous eye, nose, and mouth holes. The suit was well-insulated for com shy;fort at flying altitude, which made it quite warm for sitting on a reviewing stand.

The dragon highlord was reminded of a sunny, late autumn day several years before. It was the day the dragon who called herself Khisanth flew brazenly into the strong shy;hold of the Black Wing and made clear her intent to join their ranks. Maldeev had a keen eye for dragon flesh and had instantly recognized that this one dragon was worth three or four others and would be a tremendous addition to his newly formed branch of the Dark Queen's army. It pleased him to recall that he'd been so very right about Khisanth those years ago.

In a roundabout way, the ruined state of Shalimsha Tower had helped to bring Khisanth to the wing. Maldeev had found the tower in total ruin, a tower the higher-ups in Ner-aka had directed him to occupy. More roots and weeds stood than walls. Most had obviously tumbled centuries before during the Cataclysm. Maldeev had ordered his humans and ogres to repair first those places that affected his personal comfort.

The workmen had not yet completed the renovations to his apartment when Maldeev heard Khisanth's ear-splitting screech in the courtyard. The highlord bade the workmen silence their chisels and mallets. He poked his head out to find a strange and beautiful dragon in the courtyard below, preening for the benefit of the gathering throng. Without stopping to dress, Maldeev stepped out onto a balcony over the courtyard in his dressing gown.

No one could call a dragon slim, but the one in the court shy;yard was unusually well-muscled and lithe, with nary a trace of fat beneath her glistening scales. She wore an odd chain of swords splayed around her neck. Head held proudly, the female dragon had only to tilt her massive head slightly to level her fiery eyes with Maldeev's, even though he stood on the second level of the tower. Highlord and dragon locked gazes, sizing each other up. Neither spoke. The dragon did not look away in deference to the highlord's authority.

There could be only one reason the dragon had come to Shalimsha Tower. "Fly," Maldeev said, his tone more sugges shy;tion than command.

Without benefit of a ledge, the dragon leaped into the air.

She gave a short demonstration of her skills, including aerial i somersaults, wing-overs, and especially impressive midair stops and starts. The dragon seemed to all who watched her to defy the laws of nature.

"How does a rider affect your dexterity?" Highlord Mai- , deev asked when she again landed gracefully, soundlessly, in | the hushed courtyard.