Do not believe the songs: they were made many years later, by those who were not there.

The battle was nor glorious, nor simple, nor swift. It was hideous. It began when the Black Dragon first took to the sky, murdering three of the Dhrenagan, dancing with delight and then turning to destroy wherever it could.

Watching my people and the Restored fighting for their lives against something that breathed death, and against which our natural weapons were useless, wrung my heart and my gut until I could barely draw breath. Lanen, at my side, was hardly in a better case.

Our strategy—the strategy of all the Kantrishakrim—had been decided. The question was simple enough. How do you fight the fires of the earth? That is what the thing seemed to be made of, to our sorrow. We had never defeated the molten stone on our own Island of Exile, despite thousands of years of trying. We had often tried to drown the advance of flowing rock, but we could not carry enough water swiftly enough.

Thus the basis of our strategy for this battle. Lake Gand was deep and its waters cold, Rella had told us. Perhaps the sudden cooling of being dashed into the water would render the creature immobile. Idai had another thought, about using the Black Dragon's poor powers of flight combined with a screen of smoke in the mountains, but that depended even more upon swift pursuit of one or more of us. We could only hope.

From the moment the Black Dragon rose from the castle courtyard, it was plain that it had changed. Most noticeable, alas, was that it flew a great deal better, as though it were no longer under the control of a spell that compelled it to fly only in a straight line. It seemed more alive, less like a golem—but it was still plain that it was not a natural flying creature. That was one of our few advantages.

"All keep well apart," I said yet again, gazing down at it. The dead weight of the stone in my claws was reminding me more and more of Nikis. "Do not present a target. Naikenna, see to your people!" I cried, for three of the Restored had begun flying together.

It only took an instant. The Black Dragon arrowed towards them, breathed its unholy Fire onto them all three, and danced on the wind to see their deaths. I too watched, and saw the Swift Death take them all ere they could be killed by that solid fire.

Three too many, and they were only the first.

I dove at the thing, dropped my great rock onto its back, and was rewarded by seeing it lose height swiftly. However, I had managed to get its attention. "Ready, as many as may, above the north end of the lake," I cried, riding up on the momentum of my dive and wheeling around towards the water. I was pursued rapidly; the thing was fast, with those huge wings, but it flew stupidly, trying to gain height in a straight line regardless of the air currents. I rolled away left and into a shallow dive, rising up again after two swift wingbeats, and felt the heat of its attack pass behind me as I gained height. When I glanced back it was slowing down—its great size and weight worked against it while climbing, despite its wingspan. Still, it was coming directly towards me. In a straight line. Over the water.

Surely it was not that stupid?

There again, I would take any advantage I could get.

I went into another dive, much steeper this time, straight at the surface of the lake—and pulled up, for the Black Dragon was no longer behind me. I had hoped that it would pursue me, that its obvious unfamiliarity with flight would betray it to simple manoeuvres, but no, it had turned away towards the northwestern shore, towards where Varien and his company of Gedri stood.

It also became apparent that even Naikenna had not taken complete account of the bone-deep hatred of the Dhrenagan for the Demonlord. Some, it is true, had barely noted the passage of time, but a few now come back to the world yet remembered being trapped, voiceless and alone, all down the long centuries. The death of their three comrades struck deep, and for all that counsel and reason might urge, our instincts incline us to physical battle.

The moment it was clear that the Black Dragon was not blindly pursuing me, a large group massed above it and all loosed their burden of stone at once. Some missed, but many struck their target, and it was forced down nearly to the surface of the water. So near, so near—

Then, of a sudden, I saw that six of the Restored were not leaving this to chance. They fell on the beast, all of them, from a great height, and like Treshak were trapped. Also like Treshak, they forced the creature down by their sheer weight. The moment those of my Kindred touched the thing, they began to burn, but they did not choose the Swift Death until the whole mass of them fell into the cold waters of the lake with a great hiss and a cloud of steam. The waters closed over them all, and boiled at the spot where they had fallen. I felt in my deep heart the sighs of the Restored, as they welcomed the Swift Death once their task was done.

Someone is going to have to dive into that lake to recover their soulgems when all is over, I thought stupidly as the steam cloud roiled below me. Those who had fallen upon the Black Dragon had done so in full knowledge of the price to be paid. I bowed my head and vowed in my aching heart to honour their courage and their sacrifice more formally, if I lived.

The thing was huge and made of molten stone—it must be vastly heavy, and surely only kept aloft by demonic power. It could not possibly swim. Did it need to breathe? Would it drown? Would the cold water freeze its limbs forever?

Then the steam cloud rising from the lake began to move towards the shore.

There was work yet to do. I had feared it would not be so easy. As I dove and plucked the topmost boulder from the great cairn of them we had created, I bespoke Idai.

"It is time for your plan, my friend. Set your Fire where it will do the most good, that our enemy rising from the water may be confused."

"Your words fly to the Winds and become truth," replied Idai as she led a number of the Kantri in a long fine, swooping low behind the nearer hills and sending Fire into the heart of the wood they had marked by moonlight. The wood grew at the foot of a great fiat cliff face that rose high above the trees. There would be an impressive updraft there on a sunny day, even before we did anything about it. In a very short time the wood was alight, a cloud of thick smoke rising into the clear air like a burnt offering for the dead. It shrouded the cliff face very effectively. If you were new-come to flight and knew not what you were doing in that maelstrom of air currents, it would be quite a hazard. With luck and the blessing of the Winds.

The water boiled in a straight line, more vigorously now, and the creature's head rose from the lake. By the time the whole creature was out of the water I soared high on the rising air, watching to see the result of our efforts and the sacrifice of our Kindred.

The Black Dragon was covered all over with strange black extrusions, some very large indeed, especially where its limbs met its body. As it walked, steaming gently, onto the shore, I saw great lumps of black stone fall away and shatter on the ground.

It was decidedly smaller. Who knew what masses of the fabric of that body had had to be discarded, gone cold and dead in contact with the water, that it might move again?

Before I could even begin to rejoice, however, before I could think what we should do next or call off those of the Restored who dove at it and hurled stone, I heard its voice. It spoke with great difficulty, as if it were not used to the shape of its mouth, but the words were clear enough, as was the malice with which it spoke.