"We must talk," she said firmly in their language.
"Is that a command?" he asked bitterly.
She swallowed. "Yes," she answered, barely audible.
Riverwind rose to his feet and walked over to stand in front of a garish tapestry. He did not look at Goldmoon or even speak to her. His face was drawn into a stern mask, but underneath, Goldmoon could see the searing pain in his soul. She gently laid her hand on his arm.
"Forgive me," she said softly.
Riverwind regarded her in astonishment. She stood before him, her head bowed, an almost childlike shame on her face.
He reached out to stroke the silver-gold hair of the one he loved more than life itself. He felt Goldmoon tremble at his touch and his heart ached with love. Moving his hand from her head to her neck, he very gently and tenderly drew the beloved head to his chest and then suddenly clasped her in his arms.
"I've never heard you say those words before," he said, smiling to himself, knowing she could not see him.
"I have never said them," she gulped, her cheek pressed against his leather shirt. "Oh, my beloved, I am sorrier than I can say that you came home to Chieftain's Daughter and not Goldmoon. But I've been so afraid."
"No," he whispered, "I am the one who should ask forgiveness." He raised his hand to wipe away her tears. "I didn't realize what you had gone through. All I could think of was myself and the dangers I had faced. I wish you had told me, heart's dearest."
"I wished you had asked," she replied, looking up at him earnestly. "I have been Chieftain's Daughter so long it is the only thing I know how to be. It is my strength. It gives me courage when I am frightened. I don't think I can let go."
"I don't want you to let go." He smiled at her, smoothing wayward strands of hair from her face. "I fell in love with Chieftain's Daughter the first time I saw you. Do you remember? At the games held in your honor."
"You refused to bow to receive my blessing," she said. "You acknowledged my father's leadership but denied that I was a goddess. You said man could not make gods of other men." Her eyes looked back so many, many years. "How tall and proud and handsome you were, talking of ancient gods that did not exist to me then."
"And how furious you were," he recalled, "and how beautiful! Your beauty was a blessing to me in itself. I needed no other. You wanted me thrown out of the games."
Goldmoon smiled sadly. "You thought I was angry because you had shamed me before the people, but that was not so."
"No? What was it then. Chieftain's Daughter?"
Her face flushed a dusky rose, but she lifted her clear blue eyes to him. "I was angry because I knew when I saw you standing there, refusing to kneel before me, that I had lost part of myself and that, until you claimed it, I would never be whole again."
For reply, the Plainsman pressed her to him, kissing her hair gently.
"Riverwind," she said, swallowing, "Chieftain's Daughter is still here. I don't think she can ever leave. But you must know that Goldmoon is underneath and, if this journey ever ends and we come to peace at last, then Goldmoon will be yours forever and we will banish Chieftain's Daughter to the winds."
A thump at the Highbulp's door caused everyone to start nervously as a gully dwarf guard stumbled into the room.
"Map," he said, thrusting a crumpled piece of paper at Tanis.
"Thank you," said the half-elf gravely. "And extend our thanks to the Highbulp."
"His Majesty, the Highbulp," the guard corrected with an anxious glance toward a tapestry-covered wall. Bobbing clumsily, he backed into the Highbulp's quarters.
Tanis spread the map out. Everyone gathered around it, even Flint. After one look however, the dwarf snorted derisively and walked back to his couch.
Tanis laughed ruefully. "We might have expected it. I wonder if the great Phudge remembers where the 'big secret room' is?"
"Of course not." Raistlin sat up, opening his strange, golden eyes and peering at them through half-closed lids. "That is why he has never returned for the treasure. However, there is one among us who knows where the dragon's lair is located." Everyone followed the mage's gaze.
Bupu glared back at them defiantly. "You right. I know," she said, sulking. "I know secret place. I go there, find pretty rocks But don't tell Highbulp!"
"Will you tell us?" Tanis asked. Bupu looked at Raistlin. He nodded.
"I tell," she mumbled. "Give map."
Raistlin, seeing the others engrossed in looking at the map, beckoned to his brother.
"Is the plan still the same?" the mage whispered.
"Yes." Caramon frowned. "And I don't like it. I should go with you."
"Nonsense," Raistlin hissed. "You would only be in my way!"
Then he added more gently, "I will be in no danger, I assure you." He laid his hand on his twin's arm and drew him close.
"Besides"-the mage glanced around-"there is something you must do for me, my brother. Something you must bring me from the dragon's lair."
Raistlin's touch was unusually hot, his eyes burned. Caramon uneasily started to pull back, seeing something in his brother he hadn't seen since the Towers of High Sorcery, but Raistlin's hand clutched at him.
"What is it?" Caramon asked reluctantly.
"A spellbook!" Raistlin whispered.
"So this is why you wanted to come to Xak Tsaroth!" said Caramon. "You knew this spellbook would be here."
"I read about it, years ago. I knew it had been in Xak Tsaroth prior to the Cataclysm, all of the Order knew it, but we assumed it had been destroyed with the city. When I found out Xak Tsaroth had escaped destruction, I realized there might be a chance the book had survived!"
"How do you know it's in the dragon's lair?"
"I don't. I am merely surmising. To magic-users, this book is Xak Tsaroth's greatest treasure. You may be certain that if the dragon found it, she is using it!"
"And you want me to get it for you," Caramon said slowly. "What does it look like?"
"Like my spellbook, of course, except the bone-white parchment is bound in night-blue leather with runes of silver stamped on the front. It will feel deathly cold to the touch."
"What do the runes say?"
"You do not want to know…" Raistlin whispered.
"Whose book was it?" Caramon asked suspiciously.
Raistlin fell silent, his golden eyes abstracted as if he were searching inwardly, trying to remember something forgotten.
"You have never heard of him, my brother," he said finally, in a whisper that forced Caramon to lean closer. "Yet he was one of the greatest of my order. His name was Fistandantilus."
"The way you describe the spellbook-" Caramon hesitated, fearing what Raistlin would reply. He swallowed and started over. "This Fistandantilus-did he wear the Black Robes?" He could not meet his brother's piercing gaze.
"Ask me no more!" Raistlin hissed. "You are as bad as the others! How can any of you understand me!" Seeing his twin's look of pain, the mage sighed. "Trust me, Caramon. It is not a particularly powerful spellbook-one of the mage's early books, in fact. One he had when he was very young, very young indeed," Raistlin murmured, staring far off. Then he blinked and said more briskly, "But it will be valuable to me nonetheless. You must get it! You must-" He started to cough.
"Sure, Raist," Caramon promised, soothing his brother.
"Don't get worked up. I'll find it."
"Good Caramon. Excellent Caramon," Raistlin whispered when he could speak. He sank back into the corner and closed his eyes. "Now let me rest. I must be ready."
Caramon stood up, looked at his brother a moment, then he turned around and nearly fell over Bupu who was standing behind him, gazing up at him suspiciously with wide eyes.
"What was all that about?" Sturm asked gruffly as Caramon returned to the group.
"Oh, nothing," the big man mumbled, flushing guiltily.
Stunn cast an alarmed glance at Tanis.
"What is it, Caramon?" Tanis asked, putting the rolled map in his belt and facin
g the warrior. "Anything wrong?"
"N-no-" Caramon stuttered. "It's nothing. I-uh-tried to get Raistlin to let me go with him. He said I'd just be in the way."
Tanis studied Caramon. He knew the big man was telling the truth, but Tanis also knew the warrior wasn't telling all the truth. Caramon would cheerfully shed the last drop of his blood for any member of the company, but Tanis suspected he would betray them all at Raistlin's command.
The giant looked at Tanis, silently begging him to ask no more questions.
"He's right, you know, Caramon," Tanis said finally, clapping the big man on the arm. "Raistlin won't be in danger. Bupu will be with him. She'll bring him back here to hide. He's just got to conjure up some of his fancy pyrotechnics, create a diversion to draw the dragon away from her lair. He'll be long gone by the time she gets there."
"Sure, I know that," said Caramon, forcing a chuckle. "You need me anyway."
"We do," Tanis said seriously. "Now is everyone ready?"
Silently, grimly, they stood up. Raistlin rose and came forward, hood over his face, hands folded in his robes. There was an aura around the mage, indefinable, yet frightening-the aura of power derived and created from within. Tanis cleared his throat.
"We'll give you a five hundred count," Tanis said to Raistlin. "Then we'll start. The secret place marked on the map is a trap door located in a building not far from here, according to your little friend. It leads beneath the city to a tunnel that comes up under the dragon's lair, near where we saw her today. Create your diversion in the plaza, then come back here. We'll meet here, give the Highbulp his treasure, and lie low until night. When it's dark, we'll escape."
"I understand," Raistlin said calmly.
I wish I did, Tanis thought bitterly. I wish I understood what was going on in that mind of yours, mage. But the half-elf said nothing.
"We go now?" asked Bupu, looking at Tanis anxiously.
"We go now," Tanis said.
Raistlin crept from the shadowy alley and moved swiftly down the street to the south. He saw no signs of life. It was as if all the gully dwarves had been swallowed up by the mist. He found this thought disturbing and kept to the shadows. The frail mage could move silently if there was need. He only hoped he could control his coughing. The pain and congestion in his chest had eased when he drank the herbal mixture whose recipe had been given him by Par-Salian-a kind of apology from the great sorcerer for the trauma the young mage had endured. But the mixture's effect would soon wear off.
Bupu peered out from behind his robes, her beady black eyes squinting down the street leading east to the Great Plaza. "No one," she said and tugged on the mage's robe. "We go now."
No one-thought Raistlin, worried. It didn't make sense. Where were the crowds of gully dwarves? He had the feeling something had gone wrong, but there wasn't time to turn back-Tanis and the others were on their way to the secret tunnel entrance. The mage smiled bitterly. What a fool's quest this was turning out to be. They would probably all die in this wretched city.
Bupu tugged on his robe again. Shrugging, he cast his hood up over his head and, together, he and the gully dwarf flitted down the mist-shrouded street.
Two armor-clad figures detached themselves from a dark doorway and slunk quickly after Raistlin and Bupu.
"This is the place," Tanis said softly. Opening a rotting door, he peered in. "It's dark in here. We'll need a light."
There was a sound of flint striking metal and then a flare of light as Caramon lit one of the torches they had borrowed from the Highbulp. The warrior handed one to Tanis and lit one for himself and Riverwind. Tanis stepped inside the building and immediately found himself up to his ankles in water. Holding the torch aloft, he saw water pouring in steady streams down the walls of the dismal room. It swirled around the center of the floor, then ran out through cracks around the edges. Tanis sloshed to the center and held his torch close to the water.
"There it is. I can see it," he said as the others waded into the room. He pointed to a trap door in the floor. An iron pull-ring was barely visible in its center.
"Caramon?" Tanis stood back.
"Bah!" Flint snorted. "If a gully dwarf can open this, I can open it. Stand aside." The dwarf elbowed everyone back, plunged his hand into the water, and heaved. There was a moment's silence. Flint grunted, his face turned red. He stopped, straightened up with a gasp, then reached down and tried again. There wasn't a creak. The door remained shut.
Tanis put his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Flint, Bupu says she only goes down during the dry season. You're trying to lift half of Newsea along with the door."
"Well"-the dwarf puffed for breath-"why didn't you say so? Let the big ox try his luck."
Caramon stepped forward. He reached down into the water and gave a heave. His shoulder muscles bulged, and veins in his neck stood out. There was a sucking sound, then the suction was released so suddenly that the big warrior nearly fell over backwards. Water drained from the room as Caramon eased the wooden plank door over. Tanis held his torch down to see. A four-foot-square shaft gaped in the floor; a narrow iron ladder descended into the shaft.
"What's the count?" Tanis asked, his throat dry.
"Four hundred and three," answered Slurm's deep voice.
"Four hundred and four."
The companions stood around the trap door, shivering in the chill air, hearing nothing but the sound of water pouring down the shaft.
"Four hundred and fifty-one," noted the knight calmly.
Tanis scratched his beard. Caramon coughed twice, as though reminding them of his absent brother. Flint fidgeted and dropped his axe in the water. Tas absent-mindedly chewed on the end of his topknot. Goldmoon, pale but composed, drew near Riverwind, the nondescript brown staff in her hand. He put his arm around her. Nothing was worse than waiting.
"Five hundred," said Sturm finally.
"About time!" Tasslehoff swung himself down onto the ladder. Tanis went next, holding his torch to light the way for Goldmoon, who came after him. The others followed, climbing slowly down into an access shaft of the city sewage system. The shaft ran about twenty feet straight down, then opened up into a five-foot-wide tunnel that ran north and south.
"Check the depth of the water," Tanis warned the kender as Tas was about to let go of the ladder. The kender, hanging onto the last rung with one hand, lowered his hoopak staff into the dark, swirling water below him. The staff sank about half-way.
"Two feet," said Tas cheerfully. He dropped in with a splash, the water hitting him around the thighs. He looked up at Tanis inquiringly.
"That way," Tanis pointed. "South."
Holding his staff in the air, Tasslehoff let the current sweep him along.
"Where's that diversion?" Sturm asked, his voice echoing.
Tanis had been wondering that himself. "We probably won't be able to hear anything down here." He hoped that was true.
"Raist'll come through. Don't worry," Caramon said grimly.
"Tanis!" Tasslehoff fell back into the half-elf. "There's something down here! I felt it go by my feet."
"Just keep moving," Tanis muttered, "and hope it isn't hungry-"
They waded on in silence, the torchlight flickering off the walls, creating illusions in the mind's eye. More than once, Tanis saw something reach out for him, only to realize it was the shadow cast by Caramon's helm or Tas's hoopak.
The tunnel ran straight south for about two hundred feet, then turned east. The companions stopped. Down the eastern arm of the sewer glimmered a column of dim light, filtering down from above. This-according to Bupu-marked the dragon's lair.
"Douse the torches!" Tanis hissed, plunging his torch in the water. Touching the slimy wall, Tanis followed the kender- Tas's red outline showing up vividly to his elven eyes-through the tunnel. Behind him he heard Flint complaining about the effects of water on his rheumatism.
"Shhhh," Tanis whispered as they drew near the light. Trying to be silent in spite of clanking armor, they soon
stood by a slender ladder that ran up to an iron grating.
"No one ever bothers to lock floor gratings." Tas pulled Tanis close to whisper in his ear. "But I'm sure I can open it, if it is."
Tanis nodded. He didn't add that Bupu had been able to open it as well. The art of picking locks was as much a matter of pride to the kender as Slum's moustaches were to the knight.
They all stood watching, knee-deep in water, as Tas skimmed up the ladder.
"I still don't hear anything outside," Sturm muttered.
"Shhhh!" Caramon growled harshly.
The grating had a lock, a simple one that Tas opened in moments. Then he silently lifted the grating and peered out.
Sudden darkness descended on him, darkness so thick and impenetrable it seemed to hit him like a lead weight, nearly making him lose his hold on the grating. Hurriedly he put the grating back into place without making a sound, then slid down the ladder, bumping into Tanis.
"Tas?" the half-elf grabbed him. "Is that you? I can't see. What's going on?"
"I don't know. It just got dark all of a sudden."
"What do you mean, you can't see?" Sturm whispered to Tanis. "What about your elf-talent?"
"Gone," Tanis said grimly, "just as in Darken Wood-and out by the well…"
No one spoke as they stood huddled in the tunnel. All they could hear was the sound of their own breathing and water dripping from the walls.
The dragon was up there-waiting for them.
21
The sacrifice. The twice-dead city
Despair blacker than the darkness blinded Tanis. It was my plan, the only way we had a chance to get out of here alive, he thought. It was sound-it should have worked! What went wrong? Raistlin-could he have betrayed us? No! Tanis clenched his fist. No, damn it. The mage was distant, unlikable, impossible to understand, yes, but he was loyal to them, Tanis would swear it. Where was Raistlin? Dead, perhaps. Not that it mattered. They would all be dead.
"Tanis"-the half-elf felt a firm grasp on his arm and recognized Sturm's deep voice-"I know what you're thinking. We have no choice. We're running out of time. This is our only chance to get the Disks. We won't get another."
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