Caramon came rushing in, his skirts flapping around his armored legs. But at the sight of warriors and their drawn weapons, the children sobered immediately.
'What is it, Maritta?' asked the oldest girl. 'What's happening? Is it fighting again?'
'We hope there'll be no fighting, dear one,' Maritta said softly. 'But I'll not lie to you-it may come to that. Now I want you to gather your things, particularly your warm cloaks, and come with us. The older of you carry the wee ones, as you do when we go outdoors for exercise.'
Sturm expected confusion and wailing and demands for explanations. But the children quickly did as they were told, wrapping themselves in warm clothing and helping to dress the younger ones. They were quiet and calm, if a bit pale. These were children of war, Sturm remembered.
'I want you to move very swiftly through the dragon's lair and out into the playroom. When we get there, the big man'- Sturm gestured to Caramon-'will lead you out into the courtyard. Your mothers are waiting for you there. When you get outside, look immediately for your mother and go to her. Does everyone understand?' He glanced dubiously at the smaller children, but the girl at the front of the line nodded.
'We understand, sir,' she said.
'All right,' Sturm turned. 'Caramon?'
The warrior, flushing in embarrassment as one hundred pairs of eyes turned to look at him, led the way back into the dragon's lair. Goldmoon scooped up a toddler in her arms, Maritta picked up another one. The older boys and girls carried little ones on their backs. They hurried out the door in orderly fashion, without saying a word until they saw Tanis, the gleaming sword, and the terrified dragon.
'Hey, you! Don't hurt our dragon!' one little boy yelled. Leaving his place in line, the child ran up to Tanis, his fists raised, his face twisted into a snarl.
'Dougl!' cried the oldest girl, shocked. 'Get back in line this instant!' But some of the children were crying now.
Tanis, the sword still raised-knowing that this was the only thing keeping the dragon at bay-shouted, 'Get them out of here!'
'Children, please!' Chieftain's Daughter, her voice stern and commanding, brought order to the chaos. 'Tanis will not hurt the dragon if he does not have to. He is a gentle man. You must leave now. Your mothers need you.'
There was an edge of fear in Goldmoon's voice, a feeling of urgency that influenced even the youngest child. They got back into line quickly.
'Goodbye, Flamestrike,' several of the children called out, wistfully, waving their hands as they followed Caramon. Dougl gave Tanis one final threatening glance, then he returned to line, wiping his eyes with grubby fists.
'No!' shrieked Matafleur in a heartbroken voice. 'No! Don't fight my children. Please! It is me you want! Fight me! Don't harm my children!'
Tanis realized the dragon was back in her past, reliving whatever terrible event had deprived her of her children,
Sturm stayed near Tanis. 'She's going to kill you when the children are out of danger, you know.'
'Yes,' said Tanis grimly. Already the dragon's eyes-even the bad eye-were flaring red. Saliva dripped from the great, gaping mouth, and her talons scratched the floor.
'Not my children!' she said with rage.
'I'm with you-' Sturm began, drawing his sword.
'Leave us, knight,' Raistlin whispered softly from the shadows. 'Your weapon is useless. I will stay with Tanis'
The half-elf glanced at the mage in astonishment. Raistlin's strange, golden eyes met his, knowing what he was thinking do I trust him? Raistlin gave him no help, almost as if he were goading him to refusal.
'Get out,' Tanis said to Sturm.
What?' he yelled. 'Are you crazy? You're trusting this-'
'Get out!' Tanis repeated. At that moment, he heard Flint yelling loudly. 'Go, Sturm, they need you out there!'
The knight stood a moment, irresolute, but he could not in honor ignore a direct order from one he considered his commander. Casting a baleful glance at Raistlin, Sturm turned on his heel and entered the tunnel.
'There is little magic I can work against a red dragon,' Raistlin whispered swiftly.
'Can you buy us time?' Tanis asked.
Raistlin smiled the smile of one who knows death is so near it is past fearing. 'I can,' he whispered. 'Move back near the tunnel. When you hear me start to speak, run.'
Tanis began backing up, still holding the sword high. But the dragon no longer feared its magic. She knew only that her children were gone and she must kill those responsible. She lunged directly at the warrior with the sword as he began to run toward the tunnel. Then darkness descended upon her, a darkness so deep Matafleur thought for a horrible moment she had lost the sight of the other eye. She heard whispered words of magic and knew the robed human had cast a spell.
'I'll burn them!' she howled, sniffing the smell of steel through the tunnel. 'They will not escape!' But just as she sucked in a great breath, she heard another sound-the sound of her children. 'No,' she realized in frustration. 'I dare not. My children! I might harm my children… ' Her head drooped down on the cold stone floor. Tanis and Raistlin ran down the tunnel, the half-elf dragging the weakened mage with him. Behind them they heard a pitiful, heartbroken moan. 'Not my children! Please, fight me! Don't hurt my children!'
Tanis emerged from the tunnel into the playroom, blinking in the bright light as Caramon swung the huge doors open to the rising sun. The children raced out the door into the courtyard. Through the door, Tanis could see Tika and Laurana, standing with their swords drawn, looking their way anxsiously. A draconian lay crumbling on the floor of the playroom, Flints battle-axe stuck in its back.
'Outside, all of you!' Tanis shouted. Flint, retrieving his battle-axe, joined the half-elf as the last to leave the playroom. As they did so, they heard a terrifying roar, the roar of a dragon, but a very different dragon than the pitiful Matafleur. Pyros had discovered the spies. The stone walls began to tremble-the dragon was rising from his lair.
'Ember!' Tanis swore bitterly. 'He hasn't gone!'
The dwarf shook his head. 'I'll bet my beard,' he said gloomily, 'that Tasslehoff's involved.'
The broken chain plummeted to the stone floor of the Chain Room in the Sla-Mori, three little figures falling with it.
Tasslehoff, clinging uselessly to the chain, tumbled through the darkness and thought, this is how it feels to die. It was an interesting sensation and he was sorry he couldn't experience it longer. Above him, he could hear Sestun shrieking in terror. Below, he heard the old mage muttering to himself, probably trying one last spell. Then Fizban raised his voice: «Pveatherf-» The word was cut off with a scream. There was the sound of a bone- crushing thud as the old magician crashed to the floor. Tasslehoff grieved, even though he knew he was next. The stone floor was approaching. Within a very few seconds he too would be dead…
Then it was snowing.
At least that was what the kender thought. Then he realized with a shock that he was surrounded by millions and millions of feathers-like an explosion of chickens! He sank into a deep, vast pile of white feathers, Sestun tumbling in after him.
'Poor Fizban,' Tas said, blinking tears from his eyes as he floundered in an ocean of white chicken feathers. 'His last spell must have been featherfall like Raistlin uses. Wouldn't you know it? He just got the feathers.'
Above him, the cogwheel turned faster and faster, the freed chain rushing through it as if rejoicing in its release from bondge.
Outdoors in the courtyard chaos reigned.
'Over here!' Tanis yelled, bursting out of the door, knowing they were doomed but refusing to give in. The companions gathered around him, weapons drawn, looking at him anxiously.
'Run to the mines! Run for shelter! Verminaard and the red dragon didn't leave. It is a trap. They'll be on us any moment.'
