PART THREE ENLIGHTENMENT

And so it ended, so quickly, so brutally. When I reflect on how little I knew of this leader, Ashwarawu, I am amazed at the spell he held over me, over so many of us. Where was he born?

Among what tribe') Did he witness the death of his parents, as did I? Are his parents even dead?

So many questions now occur to me about who this man was and where he came from, about the history that would produce a leader so brave. The strange thing is, when I was with him, when I might have gotten answers to those questions, I never thought to ask them. Like all of the others, I was swept up in the moment, in the hope of freedom, in the glory of our cause.

In light of that realization^ was it Ashwarawu's greatness that moved us all behind him, I wonder, or our own desperation to believe that we could win back our freedom? Was Ashwarawu a great leader, or simply a strong man thrust into the forefront by a desperate people?

Now, these months later, I must consider those questions honestly. For my own heart, at least, I must come to understand and accept the defeat.

I was thrilled when I learned that many of my people had not broken to the ways of the Yatols. Not just the old, wishing for times long past, but the young and strong, as well. Most of Ashwarawu's raiders were around my age, and many were significantly younger. We rode with passion and justice behind us.

But we lost.

When first I arrived at the Walk of Clouds, that seemed impossible to me, a nightmare that could not be. Is there not a god above, a god of justice and honor? If there is, then how could he side with the Yatols against us? Is there justice in their conquest? In their torture? In their reduction of an entire race of people to the class of slave? No god of justice could side with them!

But we lost.

And we did not lose because of any godly intervention, or because of any lack of godly intervention, I have come to understand through my meditations here. We lost because of human fault, because of pride, above all. We seemed so unbeatable out on the steppes, against the caravans, against the settlements. Even against an army nearing our size, such as the garrison that moved into the settlement ofDancala Grysh, I had no doubt that we would win, and decisively.

In a battlefield of our choosing, where we can use our strengths and exploit the Behrenese weaknesses, the To-gai-ru will cut the Behrenese down. I have no doubt of this, but in that string of victories, we forgot the key to those victories: the battlefield of our choosing.

The army that came to Dancala Grysh was not there to do battle 'nst us but to entice us to turn to the east. When I look back upon ?that terrible day with that in mind, how foolish I feel! How easily did T)haryan play upon the pride of Ashwarawu and upon us all! We were \aded and baited. We were allowed to believe in our invincibility. yW how ridiculous those illusions seemed when the jaws of the laantha army closed upon us!

The agonized cries of that defeat reverberate across the steppes of To-gai now, I fear. Given the absolute failure of Ashwarawu, a second insurgence will be much more difficult to organize than was the first.

What now, then? Is the dream of a free To-gai lying dead on the Reid outside ofDharyan? Were my plans to battle the Behrenese and the plans of Lady Dasslerond that I would lead my people to freedom no more than the folly of impossible hopes?

I do not know.

That admission pains me. It brings that haunting moment of the death of my parents crashing around me like the dark wings of despair. And yet I know that I must honestly answer the question. I must honestly assess the chances of any uprising, the odds of every potential battle.

If I am to lead To-gai against the Yatols, I must do so honestly, devoid of the encouragement of hubris. In my heart I knew, before the battle ofDharyan ever began, that something was not quite right, that it was too easy and too convenient and too grievous an error by the Yatol ofDharyan, who had proven again and again that he was no fool. I sensed the danger there, and so did Ashwarawu, I suspect. But he, we, were too caught up in the possibility of the decisive win to pay attention to such feelings.

Ashwarawu believed in the opportunity that loomed before us because he wanted to believe in it. So desperately!

In this most critical test, Ashwarawu failed.

I have to carefully examine all that I know of the man now.

The first lesson that Pagonel gave to me once I had recovered from my wounds was to force me to admit, to myself, that I was angry at the opportunity lost and angry at the man who had squandered that opportunity. Ashwarawu had beaten me to the war trail and was building that which I most desire, and he failed, and set back my cause, our cause, perhaps irreparably.

My first task, then, is to release myself from the bitterness I feel tou;ard Ashwarawu. I have to examine carefully all that I know of the man now. Without blame, I must examine his failures and his triumphs. It is my task to study what he did right and what he did wrong, to learn from it, to better prepare myself.

Does this mean that I will take up the reins of battle again, that I still hope to lead To-gai in an uprising against the cursed Yatols?

That is my hope, yes, but I cannot know now if ever again I will see the opportunity before me.

And while the hope remains, it remains pushed far from the realities of the present. That is not the purpose of my path anymore.

Chapter 19 The Play's the Thing

He looked up the sheer, fifty-foot wall, then glanced over his shoulders at his tiny wings, lamenting that they were nowhere near strong enough to get him out of the hole.

Belli'mar Juraviel could only sigh, reminding himself that even if he could somehow get out of the hole, he would still be a long way from free. He'd have to cross through the lair of Agradeleous, the dragon, and into the adjoining tunnels, and then somehow navigate his way out of the Path of Starless Night. Which way would he go, north or south? With the dis-covery of the Doc'alfar, and now finding the location of one of the great dragons, it seemed obvious to Juraviel that his road should be to the north, back to Andur'Blough Inninness to speak with Lady Dasslerond.

But now, from Agradeleous' own tales, it seemed as if Brynn had escaped the terrors of the dragon, and in the direction of the To-gai steppes. It was pos-sible that she was already chasing her destiny - one that Belli'mar Juraviel had been charged with overseeing.

And, of course, there remained his promise to King Eltiraaz that he would not return home with news of the Doc'alfar.

And, of course, it was all moot anyway, because Agradeleous was as mighty a jailor as could be found in all the world, and the dread dragon wasn't about to let his prisoners get away.

A noise at the back of the small pit brought Juraviel from his contempla-tions and turned him toward the one tunnel exit out of the main prison, a long and low corridor leading to a steamy ledge, a waterfall pouring over it and dropping down to sizzle in a wide pit of molten lava. Cazzira, her black hair wet from washing, her creamy skin all red from the steam, entered the chamber, wearing nothing more than her short shirt.

"Has he returned yet?" she asked casually, tossing her wet hair back from her face.

Belli'mar Juraviel just stood and watched her for a moment, letting her question drift away. Cazzira froze, noting the stare. ?What is it?" she asked, smiling, even gig. gling a bit.

"I was only thinking how much longer this imprisonment would seem if you were noi here beside me," Juraviel admitted.

Cazzira s smile only widened and she moved right next to the golden-haired, golden-eyed Touel'alfar, placing her hand gently upon his slender and strong shoulder. Juraviel closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling him-self with Cazzira's sweet scent. For a moment, he thought of stepping for-ward and wrapping her in his arms, and kissing her, but that fleeting moment washed away as Cazzira asked him, ?Why must you think of it as imprisonment?"

Juraviel stepped back, blinking his eyes open. ?Because that is what it is."

Cazzira shrugged. ?And your time with my people was imprisonment, as well." The Doc'alfar spun away as she made the remark, moving for her drying clothes spread on a rock at the far end of the wide pit.

"It was," Juraviel called after her. ?And less pleasant than this time! Your people kept Brynn and me in a room of mud!"

"Peat," Cazzira corrected. ?Where else were we to put you? We chose not to give you to the bog - for that you should be grateful."

A burst of helpless laughter escaped Juraviel. He shook his head and looked back up at the pit's rim.

"And Agradeleous chose not to eat us, or burn the flesh from our bones," Cazzira went on.

"Which I still do not understand."

"He recognized us for who we are."

"And why might that spare us?" Juraviel asked. ?When have either the Touel'alfar or the Doc'alfar been allied with the great dragons? I would have thought that any recognition of our heritage by Agradeleous would have prompted the flames all the more quickly."

Cazzira sighed and slumped to the side, tilting her head, her body lan-guage reminding Juraviel that they had discussed this issue many times be-fore. ?Four races," she said. ?Only four. Doc'alfar and Touel'alfar, the children of life, the dactyls and the dragons, the beasts of death."

"That is how it was, not how it is."

"But that is how Agradeleous still views the world," Cazzira explained. ?To him, the other races - human, powrie, goblin, giant - are no more than animals, vermin to be exterminated. But we, you and I, represent two of the true races, and to the dragon, we are a novelty, and a chance for companionship."

"Even if our races are avowed enemies?"

"That means little if the races have been reduced to a few creatures. If the Tylwyn Doc and the Tylwyn Tou were at war, and all that remained were the two of us, would we continue the battle?"

A wisp of a smile curled Juraviel's lips. He could not imagine warring " K Cazzira under any circumstances, not after spending these weeks be- I her learning so much of her dreams and hopes and philosophy. Not af-eali'zing that he and she were so much alike in so many ways, both Sgmas to their respective peoples.

"But the dragons and the dactyl are creatures of darkness," he argued. ?When Bestesbulzibar, curse his name, walked Corona a decade ago, there was no parley. There was only war."

"The dragons are not so akin to the demon dactyls, then," said Cazzira.

Turaviel let his line of reasoning end with that, for indeed, there were pro-found differences between the two dark races. The dragons, always rare, were mortal creatures and were of Corona, while the demon dactyls were creatures of another plane of existence, creatures that found an inviting rift to come and terrorize the world. Elven legend said that this rift was caused by the evil in the hearts of men, and thus, the elves often considered the hu-mans as children of the demon dactyls.

"Will he tire of us?" Juraviel asked. ?Will we become vermin in Agra-deleous' snake eyes?"

Cazzira held her pose for a long moment, then shook her head. ?I think that the dragon has grown fond of us, or fond of companionship, at least."

"Then Agradeleous will never let us go."

Cazzira only shrugged.

Juraviel went back to studying the high walls of his prison, searching for minute ledges, for cracks, for anything that would allow him a handhold, landing and liftoff places where his diminutive wings might propel him out. This prison had been well prepared, however, with the walls fire-blasted to slag that ran down in smooth sheets.

Juraviel walked over to one of the boulders lying about the floor and sat down, dropping his head to his palm.

Cazzira walked up behind him and draped her arms over his shoulders, moving in very close and kissing him gently on the back of the head. ?Your friend escaped," she said. ?Agradeleous admitted as much."

"Escaped this area," Juraviel replied.

'And likely, escaped the mountains altogether, if she is as well-trained as you claim. You must have faith in her, my friend. Perhaps Brynn Dharielle is already leading the To-gai-ru against their hated enemies."

Juraviel reached up and grasped Cazzira's elbow, squeezing gently. He tilted his head back so that it rested side by side with Cazzira's, so that he could better smell the freshness of her washed hair.

And then the ground thumped beneath them, a sudden jolt, the footfall of an approaching dragon.

Cazzira backed away and hugged herself tightly, but still, she seemed "e at ease than did Juraviel, who just sat there, staring up at the rim.

i he reptilian head peered over a moment later, not huge, as it had been when the elves had first encountered the mighty Agradeleous, but about the size of horse's head. Agradeleous' head, though, even in this dirnirm tive form, was intimidating, covered with rows of reddish gold scales, \virk pointed, gleaming teeth too long to be contained within his closed maw and horns jutting out above his eyes - horns as long as great lances whe ' the dragon was in its natural form. Most intimidating of all, though, wer Agradeleous' eyes, shining greenish yellow and with black lines running their center, eyes seeming somewhere between those of a reptile and thos of a cat. Wisps of smoke wafted out of the dragon's nostrils with each exha-lation, framing his face as he moved forward. He came to the lip of the pit glanced about to locate the elves, then leaped down, his wings, tiny now al-most in the same proportion as Juraviel's, beating the air with little effect He landed hard right beside the two elves, who were bounced into the air from the impact.

Juraviel and Cazzira, despite their understanding that Agradeleous would not harm them, could not help but instinctively shrink away, for even in this bipedal form, almost like a large, red-scaled man with a short and thick tail, small wings, and that horse-sized head, he was an intimidating beast, pro-jecting an aura of power that mocked anything that Cazzira had ever seen - and second only to Bestesbulzibar himself in the memory of Belli'mar Juraviel. And while Bestesbulzibar's might was more insidious, was the power to dominate others and use them as pawns, Agradeleous' strength was sheer, brute force, the power of a volcano and an earthquake, of a terri-ble storm with focused wrath.

His movements were not fluid, but were darting, like the forked tongue that continually flicked out between his long canines. He reached forward, holding a pack, which Juraviel took, knowing it to be more of the nutritious mushrooms that had been sustaining the elves through the months.

"More tales this day," the dragon demanded. Where Agradeleous' voice had been deafening before, in the dragon's true, gigantic form, now it was rasping, but hardly diminished. Each syllable sent a shiver up from the stone of the floor, coursing Juraviel's small frame. ?Tell me of this... ranger? This man I killed, that you name Emhem Dal."

"I know little of Emhem Dal," the elf replied, and the dragon frowned. ?But there is another tale I might tell, one greater still, of a ranger named Nightbird who did battle with Bestesbulzibar, the demon dactyl."

Agradeleous' reptile-and-cat eyes narrowed suddenly, and the dragon ex-haled, seething smoke flowing from his nostrils. Though the dragons and the demon dactyls were paired in legend as the races of darkness, though the legends named the dragons as the creations of the demon dactyls, the two races were hardly allied, and it seemed to Juraviel as if Agradeleous would truly enjoy hearing about the defeat of Bestesbulzibar.

The dragon gave a low and long growl, which Juraviel interpreted as Agradeleous' way of saying, ?Hmm."

"It is a good tale?" came the rasping question.

"The greatest of our age," Juraviel replied. ?And one that, perhaps, is not n tell it, Belli'mar Juraviel, and let me be the judge of its worthi-" h trreat wurm decided, and then Agradeleous' voice rose suddenly .-shaking volume. ?Fear my wrath if I judge that it is not so!" onviel noted Cazzira's look of concern, but he dismissed it with a wry r^ere was no tale that he knew of to exceed the story of Nightbird ??This heroic companions. And even if Agradeleous somehow found a way j tne tale as unworthy, Juraviel understood the dragon's roar to be ?r than his bite. Agradeleous would not kill them over a story, not when he craved so many, many more.

And Juraviel began the tale of Elbryan, starting with the sacking of Dun-dalis those years before, and the rescue of the young man, really just a boy. It occurred to him as he spoke that another survivor of that fateful day, one who would be mentioned often in his recounting, had a story not yet com-pleted, though of course, Juraviel had no idea that the same little girl who had crawled, soot-covered and battered, out of Dundalis was soon to be-come the queen of Honce-the-Bear!

With great detail, Juraviel spoke of the years Elbryan spent with the Touel'alfar, of his training and of his strength of body and of mind.

"All this from a human?" Agradeleous asked incredulously, more than once, and each time Juraviel nodded, the dragon gave another growling, ?hmm," as if the tale was making him reconsider, a bit at least, his previous views of the lesser human race.

Cazzira listened, too, sitting on the very edge of a rocky seat, leaning for-ward, devouring every word. That pleased Juraviel greatly, more so than he would have expected. He didn't fear that the Doc'alfar was gathering infor-mation here - none to use against him and his people, at least - but rather, that she was just enjoying the story. And even more than that, she was en-joying the storyteller.

Juraviel went on for a long, long time, and was still not even close to telling of the final ceremony, when Elbryan became Nightbird, when he sat back and took a deep breath, then sat silent for a long while.

Go on!" Agradeleous and Cazzira said together, and they looked at each other in surprise, then laughed at the shared emotion. I am tired, and wish to eat and to rest," Juraviel said. out I wish to hear more! I wish to hear it all!" the dragon growled. And I fear to tell it all, for what tale shall I tell next that would not pale beside the story of Nightbird?"

lit!" Agradeleous demanded, and stomped his clawed foot, shaking And if it is as worthy as you say, then tell it again and again and d8am, through the years and the ages!"

i -gravid nodded, taking it all in, trying to draw some better measure of fagon's perceptions and intentions toward him and Cazzira. He wished that he could view this situation as Cazzira obviously saw it, with the c tentment that it was a worthy experience, an enriching conversation and me ing, expanding her understanding of this, the rarest of Corona's races a in many ways the most magnificent. And truly, if Juraviel had not had pre < ing business at that time, he might have viewed his long time with Ae deleous quite differently. But though months had passed, the elf could forget the possibility that his charge, his friend, was out there, facing trial that he was supposed to help her overcome, trials that might have a pro found and direct impact upon the survival of his own people, should th scar from the demon dactyl continue to grow.

Juraviel needed closure with Brynn, needed to know if she had indeed es caped the tunnels and found her way into To-gai, and if she had, how she was faring, before he could begin to accept this chapter of his life beside Agradeleous openly.

So Juraviel went on again, telling of the naming of Elbryan as Nightbird and the passage of the ranger back into the lands of his own people.

"And you did not accompany him?" Cazzira asked. ?None of the Tylwyn Tou went with him? I thought that was your way."

"Only with Brynn," Juraviel explained. ?Because her journey would take her to lands where we could not readily gather any information."

"And because that information is important to your people?" Agradele-ous asked slyly. ?Why is that, Belli'mar Juraviel? What are your people planning if not a journey to the south, through the mountains, through my home? And perhaps your army means to take my treasure with it, yes?"

"No! No, no, no, no!" Juraviel shouted, waving his arms, trying hard to slow down the dragon's mounting anger. ?How could we have planned such a thing if we did not even know of your existence, great Agradeleous? The only dragons that we know of, if they are even still alive, dwell in the ice pack of the northland of Alpinador, a place where no Touel'alfar goes."

"But if Belli'mar Juraviel could tell his people..." the dragon hinted.

"They would stay as far from the Path of Starless Night as possible," the elf countered without the slightest hesitation. ?Why would the Touel'alfar wish conflict with Agradeleous? For Agradeleous' treasure? But that trea-sure is not what we treasure, if you understand. We have the silverel of the darkfern and a valley of magic and enchantment. Gold holds no great sway over us, as it does with the humans."

The dragon considered the reasoning for a few moments, then nodded and gave what Juraviel took to be a sincere and accepting growl. Juraviel went on, then, in a very animated manner, playing out the many battles he described, even making up a few that fit in with the few props - a single branch and a relatively flat stone that he could hold as a shield - which were available to him in the pit.

He finished, exhausted, at the point where he was accompanying 1 bryan, Pony, and Avelyn to the distant Barbacan, before he turned back to , ith the refugees, before his encounter with the demon dactyl.

d with ?Little did we know that the beast was watching our ready to spring upon us," which he doubted was exactly true, L he knew would keep the dragon's interest piqued for his con- annot stop there!" Agradeleous roared in complaint, stamping his s report lifting Juraviel right from the ground "But I must," the elf replied. ?I cannot recount the most exciting of bat-when I am too weary to play the role. Allow me my sleep, good "en'? the dragon echoed skeptically. ?Why, sleep for the centuries nd'play when you are aware spouting fire that had Juraviel and Cazzira ducking and dodging wildly.

"Verv well, then," Agradeleous offered when his mirth had played out. ?But I will not let you sleep for more than a year! It is a story I wish to Juraviel shook his head emphatically, trying hard to suppress a grin. A year? He had been thinking of only a few hours!

"Not a year," he tried to explain, reminded again of the profound differ-ence between dragons and all the other races. These were the creatures from the dawn of time, who witnessed the early sunrise of Corona. They lived forever, unless they were killed, and saw the passage of time from an entirely different perspective than even the long-living elves. ?I need but a few hours to rest and to eat, and then I will call to you, mighty Agradeleous." As he finished, an idea came to Juraviel. He started looking around the floor of the pit, scratching his head.

"What is it?"

'I am trying to discover how I might better embellish the story," Juraviel explained. ?No matter - I will think of something."

Agradeleous stared at him, yellow-green eyes blinking, and then the beast shrugged, fell into a crouch and leaped away, easily clearing the fifty feet to the ledge.

That is power beyond measure," Cazzira remarked, coming over to -and beside Juraviel, who was also looking up to where the dragon had dis- eared. She draped her arm comfortably over Juraviel's shoulder, moving r head very close to his.

'1 let his still-formulating plans slip away for a few moments then, ;king m the sweet scent of this beautiful creature. He turned and consid-ered her porcelain skin and those striking blue eyes.

t wasn't for the missing Brynn, Belli'mar Juraviel would not have ^nded the captivity at all.

keep stopping!" Agradeleous protested when Juraviel again halted ory and began stalking about the pit.

With a growl, the elf grabbed up one stone and inspected it, then tossed it aside.

"What?" the dragon demanded.

"How can I properly perform with a stage so bland?" Juraviel angrily replied.

"Perform? I asked you to tell a story!"

"But it is a story of battle and courage, of heroes, living and dead!" the elf shot right back. ?I would do the memory of Nightbird justice, or I will tell his tale no more!"

"You will tell..." the dragon started to argue, and forcefully, but Agradeleous stopped suddenly and glanced all about, at Juraviel, at Caz-zira, and at the nearly empty pit. The dragon looked back to Juraviel and nodded.

"Come along," he instructed, and he stepped toward Cazzira and grabbed her up tightly with one mighty arm, then similarly scooped Juraviel when he neared.

With a single mighty leap, the dragon exited the pit and set both the elves down on the stone floor of a huge treasure chamber, full of armor and weapons, and mounds of silver and gold coins, sparkling with glittering gems and jewels.

"A grander stage," the dragon explained.

Juraviel nodded and moved about the area, studying the hoard. Were there items here that he might put to better use than as props in a play? he wondered. A mighty sword or gemstone that would bring him freedom?

He dismissed that almost immediately, remembering the foe he would have to defeat, a creature beyond his power even if he held the finest sword in all the world, if he was clad in the finest armor in all the world, and if he possessed the greatest gemstone in all the world.

Besides, Juraviel knew, he really didn't want to do battle with Agra-deleous, even if he thought he could win.

That notion stopped him momentarily, struck him with a surprising real-ization. Had he come to like Agradeleous the dragon?

Juraviel shook the notions away and cleared his throat, then took up his tale, running about the mounds and the various ledges of the room to ac-centuate the action scenes, taking up a sword at one point to replay the bat-tles that had faced Nightbird and Pony around and within the Barbacan. Again he embellished, adding great detail - and often taking artistic license - because he did not wish to finish quickly.

At one point, telling of the run from the giants at the Barbacan ring, Ju-raviel ran up the side of a mound of coins and dove over, sliding down the back slope, out of sight of his audience of two. He waited a long while out of their sight.

"Where are you, little one?" Agradeleous boomed, the tone showing sus-picion and growing anger.

Belli'mar Juraviel burst out of the coin pile, sword flashing in the air. ?So lied the giants!" he cried dramatically, leaping forward, sword slashing \" air about him. ?Where are you? And out leaped Nightbird, Tempest's rm flashing about him, driving back the mighty beasts, cutting them and felling them."

The elf danced a ferocious and wild routine as he embellished the story, to the delight of both Cazzira and Agradeleous.

He finished and turned to face the pair, then planted the sword, tip-down to the floor, and leaned on it heavily.

"And so ends my tale for this day, ?he announced.

To Juraviel's surprise, Cazzira voiced her outrage before Agradeleous had the chance. But Juraviel remained adamant. ?In bits and pieces," he ex-plained, tossing the sword to the nearest pile of treasure. ?Let your minds linger on that which I have told you this day, that tomorrow's tale might be stronger still."

Agradeleous roared with laughter and jumped up and down, shaking the whole of the chamber and rattling coins.

"Go to your sleep," the dragon bade, and he gathered up Cazzira, and then Juraviel, and carried them back to the pit.

The next day was much the same, as was the next, and in both plays, Ju-raviel found at least one moment where he could slip away from the others for an extended period of time.

After the third such ploy, Cazzira caught on.

"You are leaving," she said to him much later on, when they heard Agradeleous snoring in the room above them. ?That is why you keep run-ning out of sight."

Juraviel put his finger over her lips to silence her. ?I am bound by my word and by my duty," he explained.

"And bound not at all by your time with me?"

"More than you can understand," Belli'mar Juraviel replied, and he moved near to her suddenly and unexpectedly, kissing her gently on the lips. Cazzira started to talk again, but Juraviel cut her short with another kiss, and then another, pressing her closer each time, and finding, to his de-light, that she was not pushing him back.

They made love that night, in a barren pit in the lair of a dragon, and to Belli'mar Juraviel, it was more beautiful a place than under the stars of the night sky in Andur'Blough Inninness.

Much later on, when Cazzira awoke, she found Juraviel lying beside her, propped on one elbow so that he was looking down at her.

I am bound to you more than you can know," he said softly, running his hand from her chin, up the side of her face, and along her silken hair. ?I am bound by love to exclude you from my desperate plan. I will not lead you to death, Cazzira, though I fear that death will catch up to me in the halls out-side of Agradeleous' lair."

She is only human," Cazzira reminded.

"She is a ranger, and I am bound to aid her, and so I must try."

"And when you are done?"

Juraviel looked away, considering the question honestly, then looked back to her, staring her in the eye, showing her his sincerity. ?When I am done, I will return to finish my tale to Agradeleous. If Cazzira is here, then I will remain. If you are not, if you have found your escape, then I will return to Tymwyvenne to be beside you again."

The Doc'alfar smiled and reached up to stroke Juraviel's face. ?If you do not, I will lead my people to war against Caer'alfar," she promised. ?Battle has been joined for less a reason than this!"

Juraviel bent low and kissed her again, gently, but Cazzira grabbed him tightly and pulled him right over, coming to rest atop him and kissing him with urgency.

A long while later, Belli'mar Juraviel called to Agradeleous to begin what he considered his final performance.

Cazzira watched the dragon leaning forward, every inch of Agradeleous' sinewy, muscular, scaled frame tensed as the dragon awaited Belli'mar Ju-raviel's reappearance from behind the mound of coins at the back of the large mound. The elf had been reenacting Nightbird and Pony's escape from Mount Aida atop the mighty stallion Symphony. He had buried him-self in the coins, thrusting his arm, holding a sword, skyward to represent the mummified arm of Brother Avelyn.

And then he had rushed off to the back of the huge chamber, scrambling over the furthest mound of coins.

The moments continued to slip away.

Cazzira sat back and relaxed, reflecting on the loss. She was surprised at the size of the hole in her heart, the sense of profound loneliness. She knew that Juraviel had acted in what he believed to be her best interest; they didn't expect that Agradeleous would hurt her, after all, though Ju-raviel had just certainly placed himself in dire jeopardy.

Still, had she realized how painful this separation would be, Cazzira would have found a way to get out with him, to make that desperate run to the south.

She watched as Agradeleous' expression went from intense eagerness to confusion to suspicion, to the mounting anger that only a dragon could exhibit. ?Where are you, little one?" the dragon growled.

Agradeleous looked to Cazzira, who shrugged and tried to look as sur-prised as he. ?Soon," she assured the beast.

Agradeleous stood up and narrowed his eyes, peering all about the cham-ber, issuing a low growl all the while. He took a step forward, turning slowly, and began to sniff loudly. ?Little one?" he asked again, the volume of his growl rising. started toward him, but backed away, noted that his iron-corded, cal Drills were trembling with explosive power. ?Little one?"

Several more moments slipped past.

A radeleous spun suddenly on Cazzira, and with a quickness and power mocked the Doc'alfar's catlike reflexes, he scooped her up under one took a couple of running steps, and leaped long and far, sailing into nit He dropped her unceremoniously to the floor and sprang away, his growl becoming a rock-shaking roar.

"Little one!" the dragon bellowed, plowing through the mounds of oins sending treasure flying wildly about the chamber. Under one mound, ,e hit a rock, larger than his present bipedal form, and still his kick sent it skidding away. Not satisfied with that, Agradeleous reached down and lifted the boulder over his head, then hurled it the length of the room, where it smashed in half against the wall. Behind the farthest mound, where Juraviel had disappeared, there loomed a small tunnel. Agradeleous started down, but stopped and sniffed the air.

The dragon backed away and looked up, to a second hole in the wall, a dozen feet off the floor, a hole that Juraviel, with his wings, could have reached.

Eyes narrowing again, Agradeleous sprang up into the hole, running along on all fours, his small wings curled up on his back, his short and thick tail straight out behind him.

Juraviel ran flat out, but the tunnels outside the chamber were not nearly as well lit from the orange-glowing lava, and despite his keen eyesight, the elf stumbled many times. Even if he had not lost his footing, he realized that he could not simply outdistance Agradeleous. He had to hope that the tun-nel forked and branched off, many times.

He heard the rumbling footfalls coming in fast pursuit soon after, and stumbled along in the low light, knowing that he would be caught quickly, unless...

The elf breathed a bit easier when he came to the first fork in the trail, one branch winding down and to the right, while the main tunnel contin-ued on straight ahead. Juraviel instinctively went for the branch, but stopped and changed his mind, guessing that Agradeleous would expect him to head down the narrower branch.

He ran on, as fast as he could, hoping that the fork had bought him some time. But then the rumbling behind him stopped, and a moment later, Juraviel heard snuffling sounds. He cringed and ran on - what else could he do?

And then came the dragon's thunderous pursuit.

Several intersections gave the elf a bit of a lead, for at each one, Agra-deleous had to stop and locate Juraviel's scent. At one such three-way break, Juraviel ran for many feet down one steeply sloping path, coming to a ledge that dropped off into the darkness. Then he backtracked, and when he turned the corner to enter another of the tunnels, he used his wings to get him up to the top of the large corridor and scrambled along, high up on the wall for a long way.

Again he heard Agradeleous stop and sniff, then nodded with some hope as the dragon's footsteps receded, then ended altogether.

Still, less than an hour later, moving in complete darkness, Juraviel heard the wurm's pursuit again, closing fast.

Those lamplight eyes, he thought, and he knew that it wouldn't take Agradeleous long to catch him, and likely devour him.

Around a bend, the corridor brightened again, and a short while later Juraviel came to a wide chamber with an arching stone bridge, high above a river of flowing lava. Across the way, the tunnel continued out of the wide chamber. Quickly, he inspected the bridge, hoping that it was weak at some points and would not support the beast, but he understood soon enough that the powries had likely constructed this nonnatural bridge, and that it was quite secure.

Juraviel squinted in the orange glow, looking for some other choice. The air was thick with a sulphurous smell, so much so that he knew Agradeleous could not track him anywhere near here.

The elf had an idea. He looked to the side, to the distant wall, then looked down, gauging the distance against the height of the bridge.

Dragon thunder shook the ground, not so far away.

Juraviel sprinted sidelong across the bridge and leaped high and far, his diminutive wings beating furiously, catching the hot updrafts of the lava across the wide expanse. He hit the sidewall hard, but held on, crawling to an area shadowed by a jag in the warm stone. Then he ducked his head and tried to ball up as tightly as possible.

He heard Agradeleous enter the chamber, and then, hardly hesitating, rush across the bridge. He waited a bit longer, until the dragon's heavy foot-steps receded, then gradually came out of his curl, craning his neck to look back at the now-empty stone bridge. If he could only get to it and double back along the corridor...

That bridge was a long way from him, though, and above him, and he knew that if he tried to leap from the wall and fly back, he would surely plummet into the lava.

So he crawled along the wall, using his wings to lighten his body and make the climbing easier. Inch by inch, Juraviel worked around toward the wall with the tunnel through which he had entered the large chamber, closer and closer to the arcing bridge. If he could get right beside and be-neath the span, he believed that he could leap up and fly enough to scram-ble atop it.

Inch by inch.

one particularly smooth and difficult expanse of wall and gathering his strength. Then, ready to half fly and half scramble s the elf set himself and took a deep breath.

There you are!" came Agradeleous' roar, from not so far away. The 's voice seemed enhanced now, even more powerful than Juraviel eard it a short while before. And the elf saw his own shadow on the Til before his face, as those terrible lamplight eyes cast their glowing beams over him.

He turned his head slowly, but stopped and just closed his eyes, noting the edge of one huge leathery wing, for the dragon was back in its true, monstrous form.

"Treachery!" Agradeleous roared, and the sheer volume shook Juraviel free of his tentative grasp. He scrambled and beat his wings furiously, but he could not find any solid holds. His fingers bloodied as he raked at the stone, and he kicked hard, trying to set his feet.

But he was falling, without the strength to stop or even slow his descent.

He thought of Tuntun, then, an elf maiden who had been his dearest friend of old, and he marveled at the savage irony that his ending would be so eerily similar to hers.