Tiberia and the red snapped at one another, Infernus ever gaining advantage. Kaz struck whenever he could. Only one of his attacks had any effect on Infernus, a gouge in one paw. Anger fueled the red's attack, though, and almost immediately the ground gained was lost again.

The minotaur felt truly ineffective. With a dragonlance, he might have had a chance to spear Infernus and end this with his life still intact, but, despite the power of his axe, he lacked the reach to do more than harry his foe. If he hoped to be at all effective, he had to be able to reach Infernus's neck or strike his torso with the hope of piercing deep. Only then could he hope to do grave injury to the beast.

Kaz glanced at his favored weapon, wishing, for once, that it was one of the legendary lances of the war. With the lance, they could win.

Honor's Face shivered in his grip and stretched. The mirror blade sank into the shaft, which grew longer and longer yet felt as if it weighed no more. A swelling near the minotaur's hand became a protective guard. Another outgrowth stretched to the neck and shoulders of Tiberia, gently wrapping around her throat.

In the blink of an eye, before the gaping minotaur's astonished gaze, Honor's Face had become the very thing he needed for victory. Kaz now held a dragonlance, secured for battle.

He had always wondered about the origin of his axe and now he realized that it had always been linked to the lances. The dwarf craftsman who had given it to Sardal Crystalthorn might have been one of the same group who had presented Huma with the first dragonlances.

Kaz shifted the lance. Whatever the reason, he had what they needed. "Tiberia! Back away!"

His companion did. Infernus did not at first realize why Kaz had given the command until his fiery eyes caught sight of the long, majestic weapon trained on him.

"We have a knight among us," he mocked.

"No knight," Kaz returned, fixing the point on the dragon's chest, "but a knight's dragonlance. Forward, Tiberia!"

It was a sign of the young one's faith that she obeyed this latest command without hesitation. Tiberia charged forward. Infernus roared contemptuously, attempting to swat the lance aside, but somehow it shifted, moving away from its original target almost of its own accord. The point dug into the red dragon's wing, tearing through the tough membrane with as much ease as a burning knife in soft snow.

Infernus roared in pain, glancing at the huge tear. The lance bit again while his attention was diverted. Kaz barely had to make sure of his aim. The dragonlance moved like a creature with a mission of its own… which perhaps it was. There had always seemed to be something lifelike about the weapons. Kaz recalled how they rarely seemed to miss their targets, even if inflicting only minor damage.

Twice more the dragonlance nicked an increasingly baffled Infernus. None of the wounds was serious alone, but the total of the dragon's injuries could not help but begin to take a toll, even on such a massive beast as the red.

Infernus backed up, destroying more wall and causing yet another segment of the ceiling to collapse. His eyes fixed on the dire weapon wielded by the minotaur. Kaz could almost sense the magic being deployed.

The dragonlance suddenly glowed. A crimson aura surrounded it, slowly turning it as black as pitch. Kaz felt the dragonlance stiffen, grow cold.

No! Not now! the minotaur desperately thought. We have him! Incredibly, the dragonlance seemed to react. The blackness faded and the weapon grew pleasantly warm. The aura vanished.

"Not possible!" hissed Infernus. "Not possible!"

Perhaps if the red dragon had been at full strength and concentration, he would have succeeded, but now his magic was not strong enough. The lance struck twice again in rapid succession, piercing the same wing again and, on the second attack, nicking the side of the dragon's neck just above the shoulders.

Infernus pressed himself against what remained of the wall, his breath a little ragged. There was a hint of surprise in the fiery orbs, a hint of surprise and the first glimpses of fear. Nonetheless, he was not beaten. "I have worked hard and planned long! You will not deny me my destiny! You will not deny me my minotaurs!"

Kaz's retort went unspoken, for the floor was suddenly aswarm with other minotaurs. They raced about, some carrying lances, others swords, and one group in particular carrying what looked like long, thick ropes ending in grappling hooks. They quickly cordoned off the dragons, those with grappling hooks beginning to spin them around and around.

Leading the group was Scurn. Each man with him, Kaz realized, was a member of the State Guard, whose headquarters was not far away. Even with news of the coming announcement, the guard did not leave the city unprotected.

Neither dragon paid the minotaurs much notice until the first of the grappling hooks went flying. One caught Infernus on a leg, another on his stomach. A third snagged the dragon on the long, sinewy throat. The lancers moved in, their long weapons balanced against the ground so that if a paw or tail tried to land on them, it would first encounter a very sturdy, pointed lance. They avoided Tiberia entirely, though many eyed her with some wariness.

"What jest is this?" bellowed Infernus, affronted by the audacity of the small creatures. "Cease this!"

He got one of the grappling hooks off, but in that time three others snagged him, two on one of his forelegs and another on his torso.

The scene threw Kaz back a decade. He recalled the same techniques used by the minotaurs and others under rare circumstances when the enemy's dragon allies were caught on the ground. Grappling hooks to catch on to the scaled hide of the dragon, so great a number that even a leviathan would not be able to pull free.

Scurn had evidently remembered the technique.

"Kaz!" called Tiberia. "What do I do?"

It was tempting to retreat and hope that the enterprising Scum and the guard could pull Infernus down, but Kaz suspected this was one dragon that would not be caught for very long. He doubted that Scurn thought otherwise. The guard captain was doing what he could to give Kaz and Tiberia some advantage.

"Back a step!" he called. "Watch your footing! We charge for the chest. Let the lance do the final work!"

The silver dragon obeyed, carefully avoiding the minotaurs near her feet. Kaz lowered and aimed the dragonlance. One swift thrust and Infernus would be but a bad memory.

As Tiberia steadied herself, Infernus ceased his attempts to pry away the hooks and stared at the younger dragon and his rider. His fiery orbs narrowed, and a knowing look crossed his visage.

All of a sudden, Infernus leapt skyward, his head striking the ceiling hard. The dragon's skull was thick, and the ceiling broke, raining destruction and death down upon the guard. Most of the ropes from the hooks fell loose as the red dragon burst free of the temple, but one minotaur was carried aloft to a point just above the ceiling before he lost his grip and plummeted to his death.

Only when the battered corpse struck the floor did Kaz recognize that it had been Scurn, tenacious to the end. Kaz doubted he would ever fully understand the other minotaur, a warrior who had been rival, foe, and, finally, ally. Honor's Face had once revealed Scurn to have had little honor of his own, but Kaz wondered if, had he taken a second look minutes ago, the reflection would have been strong.

Scurn was only one of many who had died because of Infernus, however, and now the dragon was in the air and flying, revealed to all. There was only one choice left to the minotaur and the silver dragon. They had to follow.

"Stand back!" he commanded the remaining members of the guard. They obeyed without further encouragement. Kaz waited, then leaned close to Tiberia. In a quieter voice he said, "We have to go after him, if you think you can fly."