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"Or vice versa," the dragon put in snootily.
Despite the bantering nature of this exchange, the dragon's words gave Zaor a sudden, desperate idea. He knew that all the creatures who made Evermeet their home were closely bound to the magic isle. A common eagle in defense of its nest was a fearsome adversary. Perhaps as many as fifty giant eagles lived in the mountains to which they lent their name. If he could convince these creatures to join the coming battle, they might have a real chance.
"Who leads the giant eagles?" he demanded of Haklashara.
"Hmm." The dragon raised a paw and tapped reflectively at his scaly chin with one massive claw. "That would be WindShriek, I believe."
"Do you know where to find him? Can you take me there?"
"Her," the dragon corrected. "WindShriek is a female, and as nasty-tempered as this other two-legged one before you. As to your questions, yes and yes. I know where her nest is, and I will take you there." The enormous creature slipped from the cave, sinuous as a snake, then crouched down to allow Zaor to mount his back.
"You would permit another elf to ride you?" demanded Ahskahala in astonishment.
The dragon shot a look of pure, gloating delight at his elven partner. "Only an elf who possesses the good sense to recognize wisdom when he hears it," he said slyly. A cryptic expression crossed his scaled visage, and he added in more serious tones, "And only the elf who bears such a sword."
Before Ahskahala could voice further protest, the dragon flexed his wings and leaped into the air.
The sudden rush of wind and speed nearly tore Zaor from his seat. He grasped the horn of the saddle with both hands, hanging on for his life and swearing with a soldier's fluency.
A low, grating chuckle thrummed through the shrieking wind. "Get used to it, elf king," advised the dragon. "As much as it pains me to admit, WindShriek in a dive flies even swifter than I!"
Haklashara climbed steadily until all that lay beneath them was a bank of clouds. Suddenly he curved his wings in a tight arch and spun down in a sweeping circle.
As they burst from the clouds, Zaor's eyes widened in pure panic. The dragon was hurtling with incredible speed toward the sheer rock wall of a mountain.
The wyrm's deep, booming chuckle bounced off the mountain, to be echoed again and again by the hills beyond. Just as Zaor was certain he could glimpse before him the shadows of Arvandor's trees, Haklashara wheeled abruptly to one side, then glided down to land with astonishing lightness and ease upon a large stone ledge.
The winds still roared in Zaor's ears as he leaped down from the saddle. Even so, he was nearly deafened by a shrieking cry, a scream so powerful that it shook loose rocks and sent them tumbling down the rocky face of the mountain. With a flurry of wings, WindShriek rushed at the invaders.
Zaor's moonblade hissed free of its scabbard. The elf brought the sword up in guard position and held his ground.
An aura of power, like a shining blue haze, surrounded the elf. Magic gleamed like captured lightning along the rune-carved length of the sword. Yet Zaor did not attack the wondrous bird.
Taller than a war-horse and garbed with golden feathers, the giant eagle was magnificent in her fury. Zaor only hoped that WindShriek, like Haklashara, recognized the significance of the magic sword and the destiny of the elf who wielded it.
WindShriek halted beyond the glowing aura, her wings batting wildly and her furious golden eyes fixed upon the dragon. The buffeting winds from her flailing wings threatened to sweep Zaor from his feet despite the sword's protective shield of magic.
"Why you come by my nest, dragon?" demanded the eagle in a high, ringing voice. "Bring lotsa blue magic, elf with sword. How come? You wa
"Do you take me for a starling or a squirrel? I'm no nest robber, and well you know it!" the dragon huffed.
Zaor took a single step forward. "Do not blame Haklashara for this intrusion, Queen WindShriek. Evermeet has need of you and your strong children."
The eagle cocked her head and examined the elf. "Who you?"
"For a creature with your legendarily keen eyesight, you're remarkably slow to see what's before you," the dragon said dryly. "You don't recognize the power of the sword, do you? It pulses as if it were the heart of Evermeet! 'Lotsa blue magic,' indeed! This is the elven king, you feather-brained dolt! He has come at last."
It was not a claim that Zaor felt he could make, nor one he wished to reaffirm. To his relief, WindShriek accepted the dragon's pronouncement without question. "Why you come by my nest, elf king?"
"I come to bring word of great danger to your people and mine," the elf said. "You are not a night bird, so it might be that word might not have reached you. A bright red star shines in the eastern sky. When this happens, oftentimes a flock of evil dragons gathers to join in a flight of destruction. This time, they are heading directly for Evermeet. We must stop them before they reach the island."
The giant eagle pondered this. "What you want WindShriek to do, elf king?"
"You are queen of your kind. Lead them into battle. The risks will be great," he told her gravely, "and many of your own will not return. The same is true of all who will fight, be they eagles or dragon folk or elves. Yet there is no other choice before us, but death for all."
"Hmm. Eagle people never fight dragons," WindShriek mused, but there was no fear in her voice.
"I have," Zaor asserted, "and I trust that your battle prowess is equal to the task. If you will work with me, I believe together we can turn them back."
"Trust, elf king?"
WindShriek stared at the elf for a moment, her wild eyes unreadable. Then she lunged at him, her hooked beak diving toward his throat.
Trusting his instinct, Zaor did not flinch or attempt to parry the attack. The enormous beak snapped shut a finger's breadth from his face. Nearly eye to eye, the eagle and the elf regarded each other.
The giant eagle stepped back. "You plenty brave, elf king," she said approvingly. "You trust WindShriek, WindShriek trust you. Eagle people fight with elves and dragons this day."
"Now that that's settled," the dragon said, "I'll take my leave. Ahskahala is not the most patient of elves, and her disposition does not improve with pending battle. Your majesties." Without irony, the great creature inclined his horned head to the eagle and the elf, and then leaped from the ledge into the air.
WindShriek spread her wings, as well. "You not go
This effectively settled Zaor's next problem-how to persuade the giant eagle to allow him to ride upon her back. The elf climbed onto her wide shoulders sitting just behind her enormous golden head. With a shrilling cry, the eagle climbed into the sky.
In the Tower of the Sun, Amlaruil joined with the other High Magi in a spell of seeking. In the combined vision of the Circle, the elves reached out across the miles, out over the open sea, to the dragons that winged steadily toward Evermeet.
There were perhaps seventy of them. Many of the dragons bore the scars of their long flight: scales dulled or molting, wings frayed by storms and sea winds, the leathery hide of the neck hanging in loose folds over depleted flesh. In response to the strange compulsion of dragonflight, the great creatures had flown far without rest or food.
But the elves did not take too much heart from this evidence of the dragons' weariness. By now, the creatures were desperate, and in their imperative need to reach Evermeet, they would certainly throw all their remaining strength against the defenders.
Even as the elves struggled to absorb the horrendous mental image of the dragonflight, a new wonder edged its way into their vast magical canvas. Amlaruil caught her breath in awe at her first glimpse of the Starwing fleet.