"But did you try hard enough?" She paused, her eye blinked several times. "Do you even understand?" She waited but when Draaddis didn't answer she sighed.
"Draaddis, my unwilling but faithful servant, if we have one gate stone, we can get the other. They are mated as the viewing disks are mated."
"Then if we have one, we can get the other," Draaddis mused under his breath.
"Did I not tell you so?"
"If the other still exists," Draaddis spoke up. "You did say, my queen, that the infant merchesti might kill and devour the kender, eating the stone as well. Might the adult parent do the same to Orander and the one he carries?"
"Orander is dead," Takhisis said. "He must be." She realized Draaddis had no idea what she meant.
"Shortly after Orander disappeared," Takhisis continued impatiently, "a portal opened just south of Palanthus. I don't think it was used. This might have been a coincidence. Red-robed wizards are forever traveling between planes and it is not unusual for them to open paths of destruction."
Draaddis bowed his head. He too had walked on other planes, but he did not want to remind his queen of it at the moment. No one prospered from interrupting a god.
"Just so," she nodded, correctly reading his thought. "Still, I divine from the evidence that the red-robed wizard is dead, and that the adult merchesti has the stone and is trying to get into this world to find its young one."
Though his queen often scorned his mortal intelligence, Draaddis was not stupid, far from it. The god herself had expanded his mind, and he saw a flaw in her reasoning. If the gate stones were mated and the adult merchesti on the Plane of Vasmarg had used one of them, the portal would have opened near the kender who had the second stone. The little thieves were still somewhere near the southern tip of the Vingaard Mountain chain, still a long way from Palanthus. His queen's reasoning on that point was faulty, but he dared not tell her so. Instead, he would play the stupid mortal, stay with the subject as long as he dared, and hope she saw her mistake.
"The adult merchesti," Draaddis murmured. "But it couldn't get through the portal when it was open-"
"Do not attempt to appear even more stupid than you are," Takhisis snapped. "Orander opened the portal. He opened it for himself. When he used the stones, he held them no more than three feet apart and the opening formed between them."
"But if the merchesti held one of the gate stones, then the rent in the fabric between worlds would be large enough for the monster to enter our world?" Since necromancy was his primary study, he had given little thought to planes and the subtleties of portals. Like many other wizards he used portals when he needed them, but he knew just enough about them to serve his purpose.
"Is the merchesti intelligent enough to use the stone?" the wizard asked.
"In time," Takhisis replied. "Also, adult merchesti have an innate magic. It sensed the power of the stone, and when it killed Orander, I suspect it took and kept it. Their intelligence is not on the plane with humans, but while their thinking is slow, they are capable of working out problems. And remember, they have been known to open their own portals, though its rare for them to do so."
"How long would it take for the merchesti to learn to use the stone?" Draaddis was as impatient as his queen.
"Years, your lifetime, if we left it totally to the fiend on the plane of Vasmarg," Takhisis replied. "Still, it will come after its young. When Orander opened that portal, he set a course of destruction that is inevitable. If we can get the other stone, we can help the monster through to this world in time to help our cause."
"Help it through-bring that monster here?"
"Yes!" Takhisis gave a hiss of impatience and two of the jars on the shelves cracked with the power of her mood.
Two hundred feet above the ceiling of the work room, the old lobo wolf awoke from a terrible dream. He leaped to his feet, snarling at the evil that surrounded him. Fully awake, he saw only moonlight through the vines that covered his lair.
He wondered why he had been having such terrible dreams.
Chapter 14
My Uncle Trapspringer, like all kender, was a light sleeper…
Trap awoke when he heard an irregular tapping. He sat up on the pallet to see the sun coming through the window. Beglug sat in the corner, holding one of Grod's boots. The young fiend was chewing up the last of the only chair that had been in the room and started eyeing the wood floor. When an ant crawled out between two floor boards, Beglug mashed it with the boot and gave an evil chuckle.
"Little monster," Halmarain said as she climbed down from the bed and went to the corner, searching her pack for her comb.
"Beglug find new game," Grod said. "Can use own boot." The gully dwarf grabbed his boot from the merchesti and put it on. "Lava Belly evil." "I don't believe it," Ripple snapped.
"If killing and eating the innkeeper's dog isn't evil, I don't know what is," Halmarain spoke up.
"I don't know that," Trap insisted. "The innkeeper said his dog was mean, so Beglug might have killed it because it attacked him. You know he'll eat anything."
"Lava Belly evil," Grod announced, again echoing the little wizard.
"No! He's not!" Trap was growing irritated with the gully dwarf for echoing Halmarain's warnings.
"Maybe not so bad," Umpth said. His real complaint with the little fiend was its occasional desire to munch on his wagon wheel. Otherwise Grod's brother didn't seem to mind Beglug.
The celebration had lasted well into the night. Even though the travelers had turned in at an early hour, they had not slept well because of the noisy party in the square. They packed their belongings and covered Beglug's dark skin with the makeup and adjusted his false wig and beard. The sun was high when they carried their gear down the stairs and entered the common room of the inn. The innkeeper came into the room and glared at the group while they were eating their breakfast.
"Where's the chair that was in your room?" he demanded of Grod, who was closest to the end of the table.
"Lava Belly eat chair," Umpth said, pointing at Beglug. He continued to scoop porridge into his mouth, spilling it on his beard in the process.
"I want to know what happened to the chair in your room," the innkeeper said again, dismissing the truth as a joke.
"I wanted to know too." Halmarain snapped at their host. She squeaked out the comment before remembering to imitate the deep tones of a dwarf. "We paid a lot for that room and we had nothing to sit on except the bed. I didn't bother you with my complaint when you were so busy last night, but now you have time to apologize for the inconvenience to us."
"There were a lot of chairs and benches in the square," Ripple said. "Someone probably took that one out for the celebration and forgot to bring it back, or maybe they didn't… maybe they put it in another room, you never know what some people will-"
"Do you want to search our packs to see if we're taking it away with us?" Halmarain asked with a laugh as she interrupted Ripple's chatter. Since the chair had been a large one with a high back and thick arms, it clearly would not have fitted in their bundles, even if they had taken it apart. Their armor was stacked with their belongings. They had decided not to wear it that day. The warm morning promised even hotter weather later in the day.
The innkeeper shook his head and walked away. "Lost a chair and I can't find the dog. I wonder if these celebrations are worth the trouble," he muttered as he disappeared into the back room of the inn.
"We should do something about Beglug's diet," the little wizard said as they gathered their belongings and left the inn, heading for the stable. Halmarain staggered under the load of her armor and the axe at her belt. The others carried the rest of their gear. The square was deserted, not surprising, since the celebration had continued until almost dawn. The little wizard took advantage of the empty street to make the gully dwarves wash at a horse trough.
According to the talk in the inn the night before, a good trail led north from Deepdel to Ironrock. Since their alternative was to tr
avel through goblin infested mountains, they had decided to risk meeting travelers on the road.
"Knowing we have kender with us will probably keep most strangers at a distance," Halmarain said as they rode out of the village.
"Wizard more talk bad," Umpth announced, shaking his head until his dark beard waggled. "No like kender, no like mighty Aglest clan."
"Of course she likes us, she asked us to come with her, didn't she?" Ripple objected. "She'll be sorry when she realizes how she sounds. Just think. If you were as little as she is, you'd be worried about everything too, so don't pay any attention if she complains, though I must say, she really does a lot of-"
"I don't need anyone to apologize for me!" Halmarain snapped.
Trap, leading the way, threw a dark look back over his shoulder. He was forming his objection to the wizard's unjust accusation, but the gully dwarves beat him to it.
"People not like kender?" Umpth asked Grod as he rolled the wagon wheel along beside his pony.
"Like kender more than wizard," Grod said.
"Wizard have bad mood," Umpth said.
"Wizard live in bad mood," Grod agreed.
"I don't need any criticism from filthy gully dwarves," Halmarain snapped.
"Better dirt on body than in head," Ripple announced. She was imitating Aghar speech, but her voice was sharp with irritation. "Personally I prefer gully dwarves to little humans with little minds."
"Do you think large humans have better minds?" Trap asked his sister. "Wonder what giants are like?"
"I hope you find out," Halmarain announced. Her face red with anger. She fell back, allowing the kender and the gully dwarves, their ponies led by Ripple, to go on ahead.
The kender, never angry long or in a bad mood, began to speculate on what they would find in Ironrock.
"The name sounds as if it would be a dwarf town," Ripple suggested. "It will be interesting. Dwarves make wonderful things."
"It's a fortress," Halmarain called to them when she overheard the conversation. "Built back in the time of Huma, I believe."
They had been riding for an hour. The kender keeping up a fruitless, but running speculation on Ironrock that kept pulling the gully dwarves' attention away from the wagon wheel. The third time they dropped it and the entire party stopped while Trap dismounted to get it, he stopped and stood staring from it to a small stand of sap-lings nearby.
"Well?" Halmarain asked with her customary impatience. "Are we continuing our journey or not?"
"Yes, right-sure we are," Trap led his pony off the rutted road and tied it to a sturdy tree. "But I've got a good idea. Ripple, come help me."
While the little wizard sat on her pony and complained at the delay, Trap explained his idea to his sister. Using their belt knives, they each cut a slender sapling with a fork at the end. They compared them to make sure each was the same length, about seven feet long. Then Trap cut a sturdy one-foot length and they carried the three pieces back to the wheel.
"Now all we need is some rope or leather thongs," Ripple said. She and Trap searched their pouches. She pulled out the bracelet she had picked up when the Lyt-burg jeweler's display had tilted and looked at it in surprise.
"I thought I gave this back to him."
"Where did these come from?" Trap held up three small glass vials with dark liquid in them.
"They're mine, you thief," Halmarain snapped.
"Well, you shouldn't leave them lying around or I wouldn't have to pick up after you," Trap said, absently returning them to his pouch. He found his ball of strong cord and some thin strips of leather.
The gully dwarves watched anxiously as Ripple held the wheel while Trap slipped the foot long length of wood through the hub. He tied the forked end of the poles to the short axle length.
"Wheel is magic, is not for work," Umpth said.
"Not for work," Grod echoed his bother.
"Why not? You've been working to haul it around ever since we've known you," Trap retorted. "This way you won't keep dropping it."
Working quickly, they notched the blunt ends of the two poles and attached them to Umpth's saddle.
"Now the wheel won't get away from you," Trap said, looking with pride on his invention, a variation on a travois. "Maybe now we can continue?" Halmarain demanded.
Trap turned, his face crinkled in a frown but he forgot his anger with the little wizard. He laughed at the sight behind her.
"Hey, look! Beglug liked his clothes better than we thought," he laughed.
During the hot morning, the little fiend had apparently decided he was warm enough without clothing. He had used the stop to pull off his trousers and shirt. The pants had disappeared. Only one sleeve of the shirt remained. He was stuffing it in his mouth.
"The monster!" Halmarain looked as if she might kill the merchesti.
"You were supposed to be watching him," Ripple said, laughing along with her brother. "Don't blame him if he has a healthy appetite."
The merchesti was a funny sight in his metal helmet and dwarf beard, naked except for his boots. They had been careful to keep the flesh-colored paste on his hands and face, and he did look strange, since the rest of his body was a deep gray-green.
"How did he get his pants off over his boots?" Ripple asked as she pulled her cloak from her pack and mounted her pony.
"The next time he does something funny when we're not looking, we should watch," Trap said. He took Ripple's cloak and tied it around Beglug's neck. They had to cover his strange gray-green body or leave the road.
"Hey, I like that! We'll watch when we're not looking," Ripple laughed as she led the gully dwarf's ponies on up the road.
They rode on through most of the morning, but the sun in the cloudless, windless sky fulfilled the promise of a hot day. The road seemed nearly straight, but it rose at a constant slope, and the ponies's head's were drooping. Hot dust rose from their passage. When they came to a small copse of woods with deep shade and a running stream, even the little wizard was willing to stop.
They unloaded the animals, gave them a drink from the stream and tethered them so they could crop the sparse grass and lush underbrush. After the hot dust of the road, the moist air around the little creek smelled fresh and sweet.
Halmarain had slept the least the night before, and she sat leaning against a tree, dozing. Umpth and Grod poked around under the trees, and Beglug munched on a fallen branch held in his right hand, while with his left, he used a second sturdy stick to swat at a squirrel that was well out of reach.
The kender sat by the stream and used the time to redistribute the contents of their pouches, an ongoing chore as well as a favorite pastime.
"Oh, that's nice," Ripple said as Trap examined a cunning sparker, clearly dwarf made. "When did you get it?" she asked, holding out her hand, wanting a closer look.
"I don't know," Trap replied. He handed it to her, but frowned as he tried to remember it. He was certain it had not been in the pouch the day before.
"When, was probably yesterday," Halmarain said sleepily. "And where, was doubtless out of someone's pocket."
"Not true!" Trap said. "I would have remembered it. It's interesting." He pulled several other items from his pouch: a cluster of folded metal rods that opened up to be a roasting rack, a cluster of feathers tied with beaded string, and a small knife with a jeweled handle.
"Someone must have mistaken my pouch for his own," Trap said. "He sure has good stuff. I wish I knew who he was, I know he'd like them back." He also found items he did remember, like the cunning little glass bottle that he had taken from a dwarf's pocket, fingered, and inspected. When he'd tried to return it the dwarf had moved away.
The wizard snorted and closed her eyes as if unwilling to see what else the kender might pull from his pouch.
Ripple was the next one to be surprised. "I didn't think I had so many steel pieces," she said. "No wonder this pouch felt so heavy." She frowned, searched in another pouch and pulled out a small leather drawstring bag. "Here are m
ine. Where did these come from?" She held up a hand, heaped with coins.
The conversation brought Halmarain to full wakeful-ness. She sat up and glared at the kender.
"You've been helping yourself to Orander's purse!" she accused.
"I have not!" Ripple denied heatedly.
"No, she hasn't," Trap held up the wizard's coin bag, red with runes around the sides. "It's so full another piece would cause it to split."
Halmarain came over and took the purse from Trap, first looking in it, then turning it in her hands.
"Orander never mentioned his purse was magic," she said slowly. "I've never heard of any spell that could constantly replenish coins. If there is one I'd think every wizard would be wealthy." Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Trap. "You did pay for our room last night…"
"Of course I did," he said. "The innkeeper wasn't a trusting person, which, I'd think, would be bad for business. I mean how many people want to be accused of sneaking out without paying their bills before they even get a room. I had to pay for it in advance."
"Are you certain?"
Her constant accusations were making Trap angry. She had just handed him back the purse, but he threw it back at her.
"If you don't trust me, you keep it," he snapped.
"Wizard, wizard, warm as a blizzard," Ripple taunted, also angry at Halmarain's doubts.
"Take us she must, but gives us no trust," Trap added, falling into the sibling game of rhyming taunts.
"Complain, complain, that's Halmarain," Ripple capped him.
"That's enough!" Halmarain snapped.
"Fuss and fight, all day all night," Trap said, laughing as if his joke was the funniest thing he had ever heard.
"Argle, bargle, gasp and gargle," Ripple threw herself back on the bed of fallen leaves by the stream, cackling with glee. "I have heard all I want to hear!" the wizard shouted.
"Moan and shout and flounce about!" Trap rolled into a ball, laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks.
"One more word and you'll end your lives as frogs!" the wizard threatened. "I-"
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