"That was wonderful!" Tas said in awe. "Flint, did you see the corpse come alive?"

"No!" snapped the dwarf. "And neither did you. Let's get out of here;' he added, shivering.

Then Derek appeared. "I gave you an order, Sturm Brightblade! What's the delay?" Derek's face darkened wrath anger as he saw the lance.

"I asked him to get it for me;" Laurana said, her voice as cool as the wall of ice behind her. Taking the lance, she began to wrap it swiftly in a fur cloak from her pack.

Derek regarded her angrily for a moment, then bowed stiffly and turned on his heel.

"Dead knights, live knights, I don't know who's worse;' Flint grumbled, grabbing Tas and dragging him along after Derek.

"What if it is a weapon of evil?" Sturm asked Laurana in a low voice as they traveled the icy corridors of the castle.

Laurana looked back one final time at the dead knight mounted on the dragon. The cold pale sun of the southland was

setting, its light casting watery shadows across the corpses, giving them a sinister aspect. Even as she watched, she thought she saw the body slump lifelessly.

"Do you believe the story of Huma?" Laurana asked softly.

"I don't know what to believe anymore;" Sturm said, bitterness hardening his voice. "Everything used to be black and a white for me, all things clear-cut and well-defined. I believed in the story of Huma. My mother taught it to me as the truth. Then I went to Solamnia:' He paused, as if unwilling to continue. Finally, seeing Laurana's face filled with interest and compassion, he swallowed and went on. "I never told anyone this, not even Tanis. When I returned to my homeland, I found that the Knighthood was not the order of honorable, self sacrificing men my mother had described. It was rife with political intrigue. The best of the men were like Derek, honorable, but strict and unbending, with little use for those they consider beneath them. The worst-" He shook his head. "When I spoke of Huma, they laughed. An itinerant knight, they called him. According to their story, he was cast out of the order for dis

obeying its laws. Huma roamed the countryside, they said, endearing himself to peasants, who thus began to create leg

ends about him:"

"But did he really exist?" Laurana persisted, saddened by the sorrow in Sturm's face.

"Oh, yes. Of that there can be no doubt. The records that survived the Cataclysm list his name among the lower orders of the knights. But the story of the Silver Dragon, the Final Battle, even the Dragonlance itself-no one believes anymore. Like Derek says, there is no proof. The tomb of Huma, according to the legend, was a towering structure-one of the wonders of the world. But you can find no one who has ever seen it. All we have are children's stories, as Raistlin would say:" Sturm put his hand to his face, covering his eyes, and gave a deep, shuddering sigh.

"Do you know;' he said softly, "I never thought I'd say it, but I miss Raistlin. I miss all of them. I feel as if a part of me's been cut off, and that's how I felt when I was in Solamnia. That's why I came back, instead of waiting and completing the tests for my knighthood. These people-my friends-were doing more to combat evil in the world than all the Knights lined up in a row. Even Raistlin, in some way I can't understand. He could tell us what all this means:" He jerked his thumb back at the ice-encased knight. "At least he would believe in it. If he were here. If Tanis were here-" Sturm could not go on.

"Yes;' Laurana said quietly. "If Tanis were here-"

Remembering her great sorrow, so much greater than his own, Sturm put his arm around Laurana and held her close. The two stood for a moment, each comforted for their losses by the other's presence. Then Derek's voice came sharply back to them, reprimanding them for lagging behind.

And now, the broken lance, wrapped in Laurana's fur cloak, lay in the chest with the dragon orb and Wyrmslayer, Tanis's sword, which Laurana and Sturm had carried with them from Tarsis. Beside the chest lay the bodies of the two young knights, who had given their lives in defense of the group, and who were being carried back to be buried in their homeland.

The strong southern wind, blowing swift and cold from the glaciers, propelled the ship across the Sirrion Sea. The captain said that, if the winds held, they might make Sancrist in two days.

"That way lies Southern Ergoth." The captain told Elistan, pointing off to starboard. "We'll be just coming up on the south end of it. This nightfall, you'll see the Isle of Cristyne. There, with a fair wind, we'll be in Sancrist. Strange thing about Southern Ergoth," the captain added, glancing at Laurana, "it's filled with elves, they say, though I haven't been there to know if that's true:'

"Elves!" said Laurana eagerly, coming forward to stand beside the captain, the early morning wind whipping her cloak.

"Fled their homeland, so I heard;' the captain continued. "Driven off by the dragonarmies:"

"Perhaps it's our people!" Laurana said, clutching at Gilthanas, who stood next to her. She gazed out over the born of

the ship intently, as if she could will the land to appear.

"Most likely the Silvanesti," Gilthanas said. "In fact, I think Lady Alhana may have mentioned something about Ergoth. Do you remember, Sturm?"

"No;' the knight answered abruptly. Turning and walking over to the port side of the ship, he leaned against the railing, staring out across the pink-tinged sea. Laurana saw him pull something from his belt and run his fingers over it lovingly. There was a bright flash, as it caught the sun's rays, then he slipped it back into his belt. His head bowed. Laurana started to go to him when suddenly she stopped, catching a glimpse of movement.

"What kind of strange cloud is that to the south?"

The captain turned immediately, whipping his spyglass out of the pocket of his fur parka and placing it to his eye. "Send a man aloft;' he snapped to his first mate.

Within moments, a sailor was scampering up the rigging. Clinging to the dizzying heights of the mast with one arm, he peered south through the spyglass.

"Can you make it out?" the captain called aloft.

"No, capt'n;" the man bellowed. "If it's a cloud, it's like none I've seen afore."

"I'll look!" volunteered Tasslehoff eagerly. The kender began to climb the ropes as skillfully as the sailor. Reaching the mast, he clung to the rigging near the man and stared south.

It certainly seemed to be a cloud. It was huge and white and appeared to be floating above the water. But it was moving much more rapidly than any other cloud in the sky and

Tasslehoff gasped. "Let me borrow that;' he asked, holding out his hand for the watch's spyglass. Reluctantly, the man gave it to him. Tas put it to his eye, then he groaned softly. "Oh, dear;" he muttered. Lowering the spyglass, he shut it up with a snap and absently stuffed it into his tunic. The sailor caught him by the collar as he was about to slide down.

"What?" Tas said, startled. "Oh! Is that yours? Sorry." Giving the spyglass a wistful pat, he handed it back to the sailor. Tas slid skillfully down the ropes, landed lightly on the deck, and came running over to Sturm.

"It's a dragon;" he reported breathlessly.

The White Dragon. Captured!

The dragon's nave was Sleet. She was a white dragon, a species of dragon smaller than other

dragons dwelling in Krynn. Born and bred in the arctic regions, these dragons were able to withstand extreme cold, and controlled the ice-bound southern regions of Ansalon.

Because of their smaller size, the white dragons were the swiftest flyers of all dragonkind. The Dragon Highlords often

used them for scouting missions. Thus Sleet had been away from her lair in Ice Wall when the companions, entered it in search of the dragon orb. The Dark Queen had received a report that Silvanesti had been invaded by a group of adventurers. They had managed-somehow-to defeat Cyan Bloodbane and were reportedly in possession of a dragon orb.