Dragons of Autumn Twilight dc-1

by Margaret Weis

  "Quickly, before it shuts," Tanis said, and everyone hurried through the door, Caramon catching his brother as Raistlin staggered.

  "Are you all right?" Caramon asked, as the wall slammed shut behind them.

  "Yes, the weakness will pass," Raistlin whispered. "That is the first spell I have cast from the spellbook of Fistandantilus. The spell of opening worked, but I did not believe it would drain me like this."

  The door led them into another passageway that ran straight west for about forty feet, took a sharp turn to the south, then east, then continued south again. Here the way was blocked by another single bronze door.

  Raistlin shook his head. "I can only use the spell once. It is gone from my memory."

  "A fireball would open the door," said Fizban. "I think I remember that spell now-"

  "No, Old One," Tanis said hastily. "It would fry all of us in this narrow passage. Tas-"

  Reaching the door, the kender pushed on it. "Drat, it's open," he said, disappointed not to have to pick a lock. He peered inside. "Just another room."

  They entered cautiously, Raistlin illuminating the chamber with the staff's light. The room was perfectly round, about one hundred feet in diameter. Directly across from them, to the south, stood a bronze door and in the center of the room-

  "A crooked column," Tas said, giggling. "Look, Flint. The dwarves built a crooked column!"

  "If they did, they had a good reason," the dwarf snapped, shoving the kender aside to examine the tall, thin column. It definitely slanted.

  "Hmmmm," said Flint, puzzled. Then- "It isn't a column at all, you doorknob!" Flint exploded. "It's a great, huge chain! Look, you can see here it's hooked to an iron bracket on the floor."

  "Then we are in the Chain Room!" Gilthanas said in excitement. "This is the famed defense mechanism of Pax Tharkas. We must be almost in the fortress."

  The companions gathered around, staring at the monstrous chain in wonder. Each link was as long as Caramon was tall and as thick around as the trunk of an oak.

  "What does the mechanism do?" asked Tasslehoff, longing to climb up the great chain. "Where does this lead?"

  "The chain leads to the mechanism itself," Gilthanas answered. "As to how it works, you must ask the dwarf for I am unfamiliar with engineering. But if this chain is released from its moorings"-he pointed to the iron bracket in the floor-"massive blocks of granite drop down behind the gates of the fortress. Then no force on Krynn can open them."

  Leaving the kender to peer up into the shadowy darkness, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the wondrous mechanism, Gilthanas joined the others in searching the room.

  "Look at this!" he finally cried, pointing to a faint door-shaped line in the stones on the north wall. "A secret door! This must be the entrance!"

  "There's the catch." Tasslehoff, turning from the chain, pointed to a chipped piece of stone at the bottom. "The dwarves slipped up," he said, grinning at Flint. "This is a false door that looks false."

  "And therefore not to be trusted," Flint said flatly.

  "Bah, dwarves have bad days like everyone else," Eben said, bending down to try the catch.

  "Don't open it!" Raistlin said suddenly.

  "Why not?" asked Sturm. "Because you want to alert someone before we find the way into Pax Tharkas?"

  "If I had wanted to betray you, knight, I could have done so a thousand times before this!" Raistlin hissed, staring at the secret door. "I sense a power behind that door greater than any I have felt since-" He stopped, shuddering.

  "Since when?" his brother prompted gently.

  "The Towers of High Sorcery!" Raistlin whispered. "I warn you, do not open that door!"

  "See where the south door leads," Tanis told the dwarf.

  Flint stumped over to the bronze door on the south wall and shoved it open. "Near as I can tell, it leads down another passage exactly like all the others," he reported glumly

  "The way to Pax Tharkas is through a secret door," Gilthanas repeated. Before anyone could stop him, he reached down and pulled out the chipped stone. The door shivered and began to swing silently inward.

  "You will regret this!" Raistlin choked.

  The door slid aside to reveal a large room, nearly filled with yellow, brick-like objects. Through a thick layer of dust, a faint yellowish color was visible.

  "A treasure room!" Eben cried. "We've found the treasure of Kith-Kanan!"

  "All in gold," Strum said coldly. "Worthless, these days, since steel's the only thing of any value…" His voice trailed off, his eyes widened in horror.

  "What is it?" shouted Caramon, drawing his sword.

  "I don't know!" Sturm said, more as a gasp than words.

  "I do!" Raistlin breathed as the thing took shape before his eyes. "It is the spirit of a dark elf! I warned you not to open that door."

  "Do something!" Eben said, stumbling backwards.

  "Put up your weapons, fools!" Raistlin said in a piercing whisper. "You cannot fight her! Her touch is death, and if she wails while we are within these walls, we are doomed. Her keening voice alone kills. Run, run all of you! Quickly! Through the south door!"

  Even as they fell back, the darkness in the treasure room took shape, coalescing into the coldly beautiful, distorted features of a female drow-an evil elf of ages past, whose punishment for crimes unspeakable had been execution. Then the powerful elven magic-users chained her spirit, forcing her to guard forever the king's treasure. At the sight of these living beings, she streched out her hands, craving the warmth of flesh, and opened her mouth to scream out her grief and her hatred of all living things.

  The companions turned and fled, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape through the bronze door. Caramon fell over his brother, knocking the staff from Raistlin's hand. The staff clattered on the floor, its light still glowing, for only dragonfire can destroy the magic crystal. But now its light flared out over the floor, plunging the rest of the room into darkness.

  Seeing her prey escaping, the spirit flitted into the Chain Room, her grasping hand brushing Eben's cheek. He screamed at the chilling, burning touch and collapsed. Sturm caught him and dragged him through the door just as Raistlin grabbed his staff and he and Caramon lunged through.

  "Is that everyone?" Tanis asked, reluctant to close the door. Then he heard a low, moaning sound, so frightful that he felt his heart stop beating for a moment. Fear seized him. He couldn't breathe. The cry ceased, and his heart gave a great, painful leap. The spirit sucked in its breath to scream again.

  "No time to look!" Raistlin gasped. "Shut the door, brother!"

  Caramon threw all his weight on the bronze door. It slammed shut with a boom that echoed through the hall.

  "That won't stop her!" Eben cried, panic-stricken.

  "No," said Raistlin softly. "Her magic is powerful, more powerful than mine. I can cast a spell on the door, but it will weaken me greatly. I suggest you run while you can. If it fails, perhaps I can stall her."

  "Riverwind, take the others on ahead," Tanis orderd. "Sturm and I'll stay with Raistlin and Caramon."

  The others crept down the dark corridor, looking back to watch in horrible fascination. Raistlin ignored them and handed the staff to his brother. The light from the glowing crystal flashed out at the unfamiliar touch.

  The mage put his hands on the door, pressing both palms flat against it. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to forget everything except the magic. "Kalis-an budrunin-" His concentration broke as he felt a terrible chill.

  The dark elf! She had recognized his spell and was trying to break him! Images of his battle with another dark elf in the Towers of High Sorcery came back to his mind. He struggled to blot out the evil memory of the battle that wrecked his body and came close to destroying his mind, but he felt himself losing control. He had forgotten the words! The door trembled. The elf was coming through!

  Then from somewhere inside the mage came a strength he had discovered within himself only twice before-in the Tower and on the
altar of the black dragon in Xak Tsaroth. The familiar voice that he could hear clearly in his mind yet never identify, spoke to him, repeating the words of the spell. Raistlin shouted them aloud in a strong, clear voice that was not his own. "Kalis-an budrunin kara-emarath!"

  From the other side of the door came a wail of disappointment, failure. The door held. The mage collapsed.

  Caramon handed the staff to Eben as he picked up his brother in his arms and followed the others as they groped their way along the dark passage. Another secret door opened easily to Flint's hand, leading to a series of short, debris-filled tunnels. Trembling with fear, the companions wearily made their way past these obstacles. Finally they emerged into a large, open room filled from ceiling to floor with stacks of wooden crates. Riverwind lit a torch on the wall. The crates were nailed shut. Some bore the label SOLACE, some GATEWAY.

  "This is it. We're inside the fortress." Gilthanas said, grimly victorious. "We stand in the cellar of Pax Tharkas."

  "Thank the true gods!" Tanis sighed and sank onto the floor, the others slumping down beside him. It was then they noticed that Fizban and Tasslehoff were missing.

  11

  Lost. The plan. Betrayed!

  Tasslehoff could never afterwards clearly recall those last, few, panicked moments in the Chain Room. He remembered saying, "A dark elf? Where?" and standing on his tiptoes, trying desperately to see, when suddenly the glowing staff fell on the floor. He heard Tanis shouting, and-above that-a kind of a moaning sound that made the kender lose all sense of where he was or what he was doing. Then strong hands grabbed him around the waist, lifting him up into the air.

  "Climb!" shouted a voice beneath him.

  Tasslehoff stretched out his hands, felt the cool metal of the chain, and began to climb. He heard a door boom, far below, and the chilling wail of the dark elf again. It didn't sound deadly this time, more like a cry of rage and anger. Tas hoped this meant his friends had escaped.

  "I wonder how I'll find them again," he asked himself softly, feeling discouraged for a moment. Then he heard Fizban muttering to himself and cheered up. He wasn't alone.

  Thick, heavy darkness wrapped around the kender. Climbing by feel alone, he was growing extremely tired when he felt cool air brush his right cheek. He sensed, rather than saw, that he must be coming to the place where the chain and the mechanism linked up (Tas was rather proud of that pun). If only he could see! Then he remembered. He was, after all, with a magician.

  "We could use a light," Tas called out.

  "A fight? Where?" Fizban nearly lost his grip on the chain.

  "Not fight! Light!" Tas said patiently, clinging to a link. "I think we're near the top of this thing and we really ought to have a look around."

  "Oh, certainly. Let's see, light…" Tas heard the magician fumbling in his pouches. Apparently he found what he was searching for, because he soon gave a little crow of triumph, spoke a few words, and a small puffball of bluish-yellow flame appeared, hovering near the magician's hat.

  The glowing puffball whizzed up, danced around Tasslehoff as if to inspect the kender, then returned to the proud magician. Tas was enchanted. He had all sorts of questions regarding the wonderful flaming puffball, but his arms were getting shaky and the old magician was nearly done in. He knew they better find some way to get off this chain.

  Looking up, he saw that they were, as he had guessed, at the top part of the fortress. The chain ran up over a huge wooden cogwheel mounted on an iron axle anchored in solid stone. The links of the chain fit over teeth big as tree trunks, then the chain stretched out across the wide shaft, disappearing into a tunnel to the kender's right.

  "We can climb onto that gear and crawl along the chain into the tunnel," the kender said, pointing. "Can you send the light up here?"

  "Light-to the wheel," Fizban instructed.

  The light wavered in the air for a moment, then danced back and forth in a decidedly nay-saying manner.

  Fizban frowned. "Light-to the wheel!" he repeated firmly.

  The puffball flame darted around to hide behind the magician's hat. Fizban, making a wild grab for it, nearly fell, and flung both arms around the chain. The puffball light danced in the air behind him as if enjoying the game.

  "Uh, I guess we've got enough light, after all" Tas said.

  "No discipline in the younger generation," Fizban grumbled. "His father-now there was a puffball…" The old magician's voice died away as he began to climb again, the puffball flame hovering near the tip of his battered hat.

  Tas soon reached the first tooth on the wheel. Discovering the teeth were rough hewn and easy to climb, Tas crawled from one to another until he reached the top. Fizban, his robes hiked up around his thighs, followed with amazing agility.

  "Could you ask the light to shine in the tunnel?" Tas asked.

  "Light-to the tunnel," Fizban ordered, his bony legs wrapped around a link in the chain.

  The puffball appeared to consider the command. Slowly it skittered to the edge of the tunnel, and then stopped.

  "Inside the tunnel!" the magician commanded.

  The puffball flame refused.

  "I think it's afraid of the dark," Fizban said apologetically.

  "My goodness, how remarkable!" the kender said in astonishment. "Well," he thought for a moment, "if it will stay where it is, I think I can see enough to make my way across the chain. It looks like it's only about fifteen feet or so to the tunnel." With nothing below but several hundred feet of darkness and air, never mind the stone floor at the bottom, Tas thought.

  "Someone should come up here and grease this thing," Fizban said, examining the axle critically. "That's all you get today, shoddy workmanship."

  "I'm really rather glad they didn't," Tas said mildly, crawling forward onto the chain. About halfway across the gap, the kender considered what it would be like to fall from this height, tumbling down and down and down, then hitting the stone floor at the bottom. He wondered what it would feel-like to splatter all over the floor…

  "Get a move on!" Fizban shouted, crawling out onto the chain after the kender.

  Tas crawled forward quickly to the tunnel entrance where the puffball flame waited, then jumped off the chain onto the stone floor about five feet below him. The puffball flame darted in after him, and finally Fizban reached the tunnel entrance, too. At the last moment, he fell, but Tas caught hold of his robes and dragged the old man to safety.

  They were sitting on the floor resting when suddenly the old man's head snapped up.

  "My staff," he said.

  "What about it?" Tas yawned, wondering what time it was.

  The old man struggled to his feet. "Left it down below," he mumbled, heading for the chain.

  "Wait! You can't go back!" Tasslehoff jumped up in alarm.

  "Who says?" asked the old man petulantly, his beard bristling.

  "I m-mean…" Tas stuttered, "it would be too dangerous. But I know you how feel-my hoopak's down there."

  "Hmmmm," Fizban said, sitting back down disconsolately.

  "Was it magic?" Tas asked after a moment.

  "I was never quite certain," Fizban said wistfully.

  "Well," said Tas practically, "maybe after we've finished the adventure we can go back and get it. Now let's try to find someplace to rest."

  He glanced around the tunnel. It was about seven feet from floor to ceiling. The huge chain ran along the top with numerous smaller chains attached, stretching across the tunnel floor into a vast dark pit beyond. Tas, staring down into it, could vaguely make out the shape of gigantic boulders.

  "What time do you suppose it is?" Tas asked.

  "Lunchtime," said the old man. "And we might as well rest right here. It's as safe a place as any." He plopped back down. Pulling out a handful of quith-pa, he began to chew on it noisily. The puffball flame wandered over and settled on the brim of the magician's hat.

  Tas sat down next to the mage and began to nibble on his own bit of dried fruit. Then he sniffed. There
was suddenly a very peculiar smell, like someone burning old socks. Looking up, he sighed and tugged on the magician's robe. "Uh, Fizban," he said. "Your hat's on fire."

  "Flint," Tanis said sternly, "for the last time-I feel as badly as you do about losing Tas, but we cannot go back! He's with Fizban and-knowing those two-they'll both manage to get out of whatever predicament they're in."

  "If they don't bring the whole fortress down around our ears," Sturm muttered.

  The dwarf wiped his hand across his eyes, glared at Tanis, then whirled on his heel and stumped back to a corner where he hurled himself onto the floor, sulking.

  Tanis sat back down. He knew how Flint felt. It seemed odd-there'd been so many times he could happily have strangled the kender, but now that he was gone, Tanis missed him-and for exactly the same reasons. There was an innate, unfailing cheerfulness about Tasslehoff that made him an invaluable companion. No danger ever frightened a kender and, therefore, Tas never gave up. He was never at a loss for something to do in an emergency. It might not always be the right thing, but at least he was ready to act. Tanis smiled sadly. I only hope this emergency doesn't prove to be his last, he thought.

  The companions rested for an hour, eating quith-pa and drinking fresh water from a deep well they discovered. Raistlin regained consciousness but could eat nothing. He sipped water, then lay limply back. Caramon broke the news to him about Fizban hesitantly, fearing his brother might take the old mage's disappearance badly. But Raistlin simply shrugged, closed his eyes, and sank into a deep sleep.

  After Tanis felt his strength return, he rose and walked toward Gilthanas, noting that the elf was intently studying a map. Passing Laurana, who sat alone, he smiled at her. She refused to acknowledge it. Tanis sighed. Already he regretted speaking harshly to her back in the Sla-Mori. He had to admit that she had handled herself remarkably well under terrifying circumstances. She had done what she was told to quickly and without question. Tanis supposed he would have to apologize, but first he needed to talk to Gilthanas.