Tanis took a bite of venison without appetite. Then, wrinkling his nose, he sniffed. 'What's that funny smell?'
'Some concoction of the mage's.' The dwarf grimaced, plopping down next to Tanis. Flint pulled out a block of wood and began carving, hacking away furiously, making chips fly. 'He pounded up some sort of powder in a cup and added water. Stirred it up and drank it, but not before it made that gullymudge smell. I'm happier not knowing what it was.'
Tanis agreed. He chewed on the venison. Raistlin was now reading his spellbook, murmuring the words over and over until he had committed them to memory. Tanis wondered what kind of spell Raistlin had that might be useful against a dragon. From what little he remembered about dragonlore-learned ages ago from the elven bard, Quivalen Soth — only the spells of the very greatest mages had a chance of affecting dragons, who could work their own magic-as they had witnessed.
Tanis looked at the frail young man absorbed in his spellbook and shook his head. Raistlin might be powerful for his age, and he was certainly devious and clever. But dragons were ancient. They had been in Krynn before the first elves-the oldest of the races-walked the land. Of course, if the plan the companions discussed last night worked out, they wouldn't even encounter the dragon. They hoped simply to find the lair and escape with the Disks. It was a good plan, Tanis thought, and probably worth about as much as smoke on the wind. Despair began to creep over him like a dank fog.
'Well, I'm all set,' Caramon announced cheerfully. The big warrior felt immeasurably better in his armor. The dragon seemed a very small annoyance this morning. He tunelessly whistled an old marching song as he stuffed his mud-stained clothing into his pack. Sturm, his armor carefully adjusted, sat apart from the companions, his eyes closed, performing whatever secret ritual knights performed, preparing himself mentally for combat. Tanis stood up, stiff and cold, moving around to get the circulation going and ease the soreness from his muscles. Elves did nothing before battle, except ask forgiveness for taking life.
'We, too, are ready,' Goldmoon said. She was dressed in a heavy gray tunic made of soft leather trimmed with fur. She had braided her long silver-gold hair in a twist around her head-a precaution against an enemy using her hair to gain a handhold.
'Let's get this over with.' Tanis sighed as he picked up the longbow and quiver of arrows Riverwind had taken from the draconian camp and slung them over his shoulder. In addition, Tanis was armed with a dagger and his longsword. Sturm had his two-handed sword. Caramon carried his shield, a longsword, and two daggers Riverwind had scrounged. Flint had replaced his lost battle-axe with one from the draconian camp. Tasslehoff had his hoopak and a small dagger he had discovered. He was very proud of it and was deeply wounded when Caramon told him it would be of use if they ran into any ferocious rabbits. Riverwind bore his longsword strapped to his back and still carried Tanis's dagger. Goldmoon bore no weapon other than the staff. We're well armed, Tanis thought gloomily. For all the good it will do us.
The companions left the chamber of Mishakal, Goldmoon coming last. She gently touched the statue of the goddess with her hand as she passed, whispering a silent prayer.
Tas led the way, skipping merrily, his topknot bouncing behind him. He was going to see a real live dragon! The kender couldn't imagine anything more exciting.
Following Caramon's directions, they headed east, passing through two more sets of golden double doors, and came to a large circular room. A tall, slime-coated pedestal stood in the center-so tall not even Riverwind could see what, if anything, was on it. Tas stood beneath it, staring up at it wistfully.
'I tried to climb it last night,' he said, 'but it was too slippery. I wonder what's up there?'
'Well, whatever it is will have to stay forever beyond the reach of kenders,' Tanis snapped irritably. He walked over to investigate the staircase that spiraled down into the darkness. The stairs were broken and covered with rotting plants and fungus.
'The Paths of the Dead,' Raistlin said suddenly.
'What?' Tanis started.
'The Paths of the Dead,' the mage repeated. 'That's what this staircase is called.'
'How in the name of Reorx do you know that?' Flint growled.
'I have read something of this city,' Raistlin replied in his whispering voice.
'This is the first we've heard of it,' Sturm said coldly. 'What else do you know that you haven't told us?'
'A great many things, knight,' Raistlin returned, scowling. 'While you and my brother played with wooden swords, I spent my time in study.'
'Yes, study of that which is dark and mysterious,' the knight sneered. 'What really happened in the Towers of High Sorcery, Raistlin? You didn't gain these wonderful powers of yours without giving something in return. What did you sacrifice in that Tower? Your health-or your soul!'
'I was with my brother in the Tower,' Caramon said, the warrior's normally cheerful face now haggard. 'I saw him battle powerful mages and wizards with only a few simple spells. He defeated them, though they shattered his body. I carried him, dying, from the terrible place. And I-' The big man hesitated.
Raistlin stepped forward quickly and placed his cold, thin hand on his twin's arm.
'Be careful what you say,' he hissed.
Caramon drew a ragged breath and swallowed. 'I know what he sacrificed,' the warrior said in a husky voice. Then he lifted his head proudly. 'We are forbidden to speak of it. But you have known me many years, Sturm Brightblade, and I give you my word of honor-you may trust my brother as you trust me. If ever a time comes when that is not so, may my death- and his-be not far behind.'
Raistlin's eyes narrowed at this vow. He regarded his brother with a thoughtful, somber expression. Then Tanis saw the mage's lip curl, the serious mien wiped out by his customary cynicism. It was a startling change. For a moment, the twins' resemblance to each other had been remarkable. Now they were as different as opposite sides of a coin.
Sturm stepped forward and clasped Caramon's hand, gripping it tightly, wordlessly. Then he turned to face Raistlin, unable to regard him without obvious disgust. 'I apologize, Raistlin, ' the knight said stiffly. 'You should be thankful you have such a loyal brother.'
'Oh, I am,' Raistlin whispered.
Tanis glanced at the mage sharply, wondering if he had only imagined sarcasm in the mage's hissing voice. The half-elf licked his dry lips, a sudden, bitter taste in his mouth. 'Can you guide us through this place?' he asked abruptly.
'I could have,' Raistlin answered, 'if we had come here prior to the Cataclysm. The books I studied dated back hundreds of years. During the Cataclysm, when the fiery mountain struck Krynn, the city of Xak Tsaroth was cast down the side of a cliff. I recognize this staircase because it is still intact. As for beyond-' He shrugged.
'Where do the stairs lead?'
'To a place known as the Hall of the Ancestors. Priests and kings of Xak Tsaroth were buried in crypts there.'
'Let's get moving,' Caramon said gruffly. 'All we're doing here is scaring ourselves.'
'Yes.' Raistlin nodded. 'We must go and go quickly. We have until nightfall. By tomorrow, this city will be overrun by the armies moving from the north.'
'Bah!' Sturm frowned. 'You may know lots of things as you claim, mage, but you can't know that! Caramon is right, though-we have stayed here too long. I will take the lead.'
He started down the stairs, moving carefully to keep from slipping on the slimy surface. Tanis saw Raistlin's eyes-narrow, golden slits of enmity-follow Stunn down.
'Raistlin, go with him and light the way,' Tanis ordered, ignoring the angry glance Sturm flashed up at him. 'Caramon, walk with Goldmoon. Riverwind and I will take rear guard.'
'And where does that leave us?' Flint grumbled to the kender as they followed behind Goldmoon and Caramon. 'In the middle, as usual. Just more useless baggage-'
'There might be anything up there,' Tas said, looking back to the pedestal. He obviously hadn't heard a word of what had been said. 'A crystal ball of farseeing, a magic ring like I once had. Did I ever tell you about my magic ring?' Flint groaned. Tanis heard the kender's voice prattling on as the two disappeared down the stairs.
The half-elf turned to Riverwind. 'You were here-you must have been. We have seen the goddess who
