Dragonlance - Preludes 1 Vol 1 - Darkness and Light by Paul B. Thompson & Tonya R. Carter

Author:Paul B. Thompson & Tonya R. Carter
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

The gnomes forged a massive lever switch of iron and

copper, and converted the rest of the scrap into huge coup-

lings that could be clamped over the severed cables in the

Cloudmaster and closed by great iron hooks. This work

took most of the night, and when it was done, Rainspot pre-

cipitated a short shower inside the obelisk to quench the fire

and dispel the pall of smoke that hung over everything.

Cupelix watched it all from his perch, never questioning,

hardly even moving for nine and a half hours. Afterward,

the tired gnomes climbed the ramp into the ship for a rest,

leaving Cupelix to admire their work.

Sturm looked over the metalwork, too, as he idly ate his

supper of dried spear plant and cold beans. Cupelix teased

him with magically produced haunches of roast pig and

pitchers of sweet cream, but Sturm stolidly ignored the

proffered treats.

"You're a stubborn fellow," said the dragon, as Sturm con-

tinued to munch his meager fare.

"Principles are not to be cast aside whenever they become

inconvenient," he replied.

"Principles don't fill empty belly".

"Nor does magic salve an empty heart."

"Very good!" exclaimed Cupelix. "Let us trade proverbs

that contradict each other; that's a worthy entertainment."

"Some other time. I'm not in the mood for games," said

Sturm with a sigh.

"Ah, I see the fair face of Mistress Kitiara in this," said the

dragon with a mischievous lilt in his voice. "Do you pine for

her, my boy? Shall I put in a good word for you?"

"No!" Sturm snapped. "You really are quite irritating

sometimes."

"Inasmuch as I've had no one to talk to for nearly three

millennia, I admit my etiquette is sorely underdeveloped.

"Still," said Cupelix, "this presents you with the opportunity

to inform me. I would be as polite and genteel as a knight.

Will you teach me?"

Sturm stifled a yawn. "It isn't manners or gentility taught

by the fireside that makes a knight. It's long study and train-

ing, living by the Oath and the Measure. Such things cannot

be taught in light conversation. Besides, I doubt that you

genuinely want to learn anything; you're just looking for

diversion."

"You're so untrusting," said Cupelix. "No, don't deny it! I

can hear it in your mind before you speak. How can I con-

vince you of my true good will, Sir Doubter?"

"Answer me this: Why are you, a fully grown brass

dragon, permanently confined to this tower, on this strange

and magic-ridden moon?"

"I am Keeper of the New Lives," said Cupelix.

"What does that mean?"

The dragon darted his snaky neck from side to side, as

though looking for nonexistent eavesdroppers. "I guard the

repository of my race." When Sturm continued to look

blank, Cupelix said loudly, "Eggs, my dear, ignorant mor-

tal! The eggs of dragons lie in caverns beneath this obelisk.

It is my task to watch over them and protect them from

insensate brutes like yourself." His great mouth widened in a

grin. "No offense intended, of course."

"None taken."

Sturm looked at the floor, light red and veined with dark

wine streaks. He tried to imagine the nest of dragon eggs

below, but he could not grasp it.

"How do they come to be here l The eggs, I mean," he said.

"I do not know for certain.

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