Rhonin well knew how audacious his plan might look to the rest should they discover the truth. Again he
thought of the ghosts that haunted him, the specters of the past. They were his true companions on this
mad quest, the furies that drove him on. They would watch him succeed or die trying.
Die trying. Not for the first time since the deaths of his previous companions did he wonder if perhaps
that would be the best conclusion to all of this. Perhaps then Rhonin would truly redeem himself in his
own eyes, much less the ghosts of his imagination.
But first he had to reach Grim Batol.
“Look there, wizard!”
He started, not realizing that, at some point, he had drifted off. Rhonin stared past Molok's shoulder in
the direction the dwarf now pointed. At first the wizard could see nothing, the ocean mists still splattering
his eyes. After clearing his gaze, however, he saw two dark specks on the horizon. Two stationary
specks. “Is that land?”
“Aye, wizard! The first signs of Khaz Modan!”
So near! New life and enthusiasm arose within Rhonin as he realized that he had managed to sleep
through the remainder of the flight. Khaz Modan! No matter how dangerous the trek from here on, he
had at least made it this far. At the rate at which the gryphons soared, it would only be a short time
before they touched down on—
Two new specks caught his attention, two specks in the sky thatmoved,growing larger and larger, as if
they closed in on the party.
“What are those? What's coming toward us?”
Molok leaned forward, squinting. “By the jagged ice cliffs of Northeron! Dragons! Two of them!”
Dragons . . .
“Red?”
“Does the color of the sky matter, wizard? A dragon is a dragon and, by my beard, they're coming fast
for us!”
Glancing in the direction of the other gryphon-riders, Rhonin saw that Falstad and the rest had also
spotted the dragons. The dwarves immediately began adjusting their formation, spreading out so as to
present smaller, more difficult targets. The wizard noted Falstad steering more to the rear, likely due to
the fact that Vereesa rode with him. On the other hand, the gryphon upon which Duncan Senturus
traveled raced ahead, nearly outpacing the rest of the group.
The dragons, too, moved with strategy in mind. The larger of the pair rose to a higher altitude, then
broke away from its companion. Rhonin instantly recognized that the two leviathans intended to force the
gryphons into an area between them, where they could better pick off the smaller creatures and their
riders.
Hulking forms atop each dragon coalesced into two of the largest, most brutish orcs the wary mage had
ever seen. The one atop the greater behemoth looked to be the leader. He waved his ax toward the other orc, whose beast instantly veered farther to the opposite direction.
“Well-skilled riders, these!” shouted Molok with much too much eagerness. “The one on the right most
of all! This will be a glorious battle!”
And one in which Rhonin might very well lose his life, just as it seemed he might have a chance to go on
with his mission. “We can't fight them! I need to get to the shore!”
He heard Molok grunt in frustration. “My place is in the battle, wizard!”
“My mission must come first!”
For a moment he thought that the dwarf might actually throw him off their mount. Then, with much
reluctance, Molok nodded his head, calling, “I'll do what I can, wizard! If an opening presents itself, we'll
try for the shore! I'll drop you off and that'll be the end of it between us!”
“Agreed!”
They spoke no more, for at that point, the two opposing forces reached one another.
The swifter, much more agile gryphons darted about the dragons, quickly frustrating the lesser one.
However, burdened as they were by extra weight, the animals ridden by Rhonin and the others could not
maneuver quite so fast as usual. A massive paw with razor talons nearly swiped Falstad and Vereesa,
and a wing barely missed clipping Duncan and the dwarf with him. The paladin and his companion
continued to fly much too close, as if they sought to take on the one dragon in some bizarre sort of
hand-to-hand combat.
With some effort, Molok removed his stormhammer, waving it about and shouting like someone who
had just had his hair set on fire. Rhonin hoped that the dwarf would not forget his promise in the heat of
battle.
The second dragon came down, unfortunately choosing Falstad and Vereesa for his main target. Falstad
urged his gryphon on, but the wings could not beat fast enough with the elf in tow. The huge orc urged his
reptilian partner on with murderous cries and mad swings of his monstrous battle-ax.
Rhonin gritted his teeth. He could not just let them perish, especially the ranger.
“Molok! Go after that larger one! We've got to help them!”
Eager as he was to obey, the scarred dwarf recalled Rhonin's earlier demand. “What about your
precious mission?”
“Just go!”
A huge grin spread over Molok's visage. He gave a yell that sent every nerve in the mage's body into
shock, then steered the gryphon toward the dragon.
Behind him, Rhonin readied a spell. They had only moments before the crimson leviathan would reach
Vereesa. . . .
Falstad brought his mount around in a sudden arc that startled the dragon rider. The great behemoth
soared past, unable to match the maneuverability of its smaller rival.
“Hold tight, wizard!”
Molok's gryphon dove almost straight down. Trying not to let base fears overwhelm him, Rhonin went
over the last segment of his spell. Now if he could manage enough breath to cast it—
The dwarf let out a war cry that brought the attention of the orc. Brow furrowing, the grotesque figure
twisted around so as to meet his new foe.
Stormhammer briefly met battle-ax.
A shower of sparks nearly caused the wizard to lose his grip. The gryphon squawked in surprise and
pain. Molok nearly toppled from his seat.
Their mount reacted quickest, racing higher into the sky, nearly into the thickening clouds above. Molok
readjusted his seating. “By the Aerie! Did you see that? Few weapons or their wielders can stand against
a stormhammer! This'll be a fascinating match!”
“Let me try something first!”
The dwarf 's expression darkened. “Magic? Where's the honor and courage in that?”
“How can you battle the orc if the dragon won't let you near again? We got lucky once!”
“All right! So long as you don't steal the battle!”
Rhonin made no promises, mostly because he hoped to do just that. He stared at the dragon, which had
quickly followed them up, muttering the words of power. At the last moment, the wizard glanced at the
clouds above.
A single bolt of lightning shot down, striking at the pursuing giant.
It hit the dragon full on, but the effects were not what Rhonin had hoped. The creature's entire form
shimmered from wing tip to wing tip and the beast let out a furious shriek, but the beast did not plummet
from the heavens. In fact, even the orc, who no doubt suffered great, did nothing more than slump
forward momentarily in his seat.
Disappointed, the wizard had to console himself that at least he had stunned the massive creature. It also
occurred to him that now neither he nor Vereesa were in any immediate danger. The dragon struggled
just to keep itself aloft.
Rhonin put a hand on Molok's shoulder. “To the shore! Quickly now!”
“Are you daft, wizard? What about the battle that you just told me to—”
“Now!”
More likely because he wanted to be rid of his exasperating cargo than because he believed in any
authority on the mage's part, Molok reluctantly steered his gryphon away again.
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