Core of All Worlds, ' He gasped out the beginning of his tale. With it went the image of the serpents. With them went the pain. He touched his face to assure himself of what he knew. The torture had been an illusion; his skin was whole. Draaddis took a deep breath and went on with his story.

'The red robe had some garbled tale of stones that could be gathered there. He claimed they would open a portal to any plane-'

'Bring him to the orb, I will question him, ' Takhisis demanded, but Draaddis shook his head.

'I fear, my queen, to learn even the little I did, I was forced to strip him of his knowledge. ' Draaddis shrugged. 'He was a fool, with more courage than strength, and as I said he was young, still learning his art. He did not survive my entry into his mind. I have his knowledge, but it was incomplete. For the past ten days I have been searching out the mysterious red robe who has a set of these gate stones. '

'Did you find him?'

'I have found him, my queen, and more. I have used a construct to place a viewing disk in his work chamber so we can judge for ourselves the worth of his find in the Core of Worlds. '

Draaddis waved a hand in the direction of the largest table, where a red-eyed rat sat scratching his ear. A closer look showed a pair of wings pressed flat to its back. When the eye of the dread queen turned in its direction, the rat backed up to hide behind a stack of books.

'You have done well, ' Takhisis said, momentarily drawing back from the globe. When he could see her entire face, Draaddis trembled even more violently. In her human form, the Dark Queen's beauty was incomparable. Her perfect features and eyes held more allure than any mortal face. Her sensuous mouth, even in repose, gave promise of delights no mortal woman could offer. Just gazing at her made Draaddis forget the danger inherent in the presence of the ruler of the Abyss.

'Show me!' With the command she put her eye to the globe again and all he saw was the dark pupil that followed his movements around the chamber.

'The seeing disk is mated to this one, ' Draaddis told his queen, opening his hand. He showed her a small, intricately carved disk of gray-green glass. A tail of carved magic runes, individually too small for the unaided eye to discern, swirled out from a small carving in the center to the edge of the glass. Draaddis placed the disk on a round, unadorned mirror that lay flat on the table.

The stile that held the black globe disappeared, along with the black-robed wizard, the shelves, the grisly experiments, and the dusty murkiness of Draaddis's work room. It seemed as if they had instantly been transported into another underground chamber. By the barely discernible odor of vegetable decay, it had in the past been used as a huge food larder. This, too, was a wizard's laboratory and held all the clutter of alchemy, save the experiments were not of such a grizzly nature. The chamber was cleaner and clean-burning torches purified the air. Old carpets of intricate design covered the floor, and the wall sconces that held the torches were ornate enough to have graced a lord's dining hall.

Two people were in the room. Orander Marlbenit, a master wizard in red robes sat at a table, pouring over a book. Across from him, what Draaddis first thought was a child of four or five years, stood on a bench, pouring tea into a cup. The pot was too large for her tiny hands. The little figure also wore a red robe, and beside her a short staff leaned against the bench. Thick, curling black hair framed her face and tumbled down her back. When she turned to put the pot back on a tray, they saw her face. The diminutive size was at odds with the maturity of a young woman in her twenties.

'At least have a cup of tea before you begin, ' she said. Her voice was highly pitched and childlike, but the tones were that of an adult. When the wizard continued reading she became exasperated.

'Master Orander!' she spat. 'You need strength for your studies, and even more if you try the experiment. '

The larger figure raised his head. White hair peeked out from under his hood and bright blue eyes sparkled beneath a pair of heavy white eyebrows. His beard, also white, had been inexpertly cut short, a concession to convenience rather than style. He smiled at his companion.

'You make too much of it, Halmarain. I won't be in any danger, and I won't be gone long. I'll just test the stones on a benign plane. ' He pointed at a passage in the book he was reading.

'Alchviem says here that the tone is everything. Once the vibration starts if we keep the note soft and steady, there's nothing to fear. ' 'But there's still a doubt, ' Halmarain snapped.

Orander frowned. 'Halmarain, we are students of the nature of magic, and we will face any danger to further our art. You will either accept that fact or find another teacher.'

'I would rather keep the one I have,' she retorted. Her eyes were softer than her voice and they showed her concern. 'Remember, all you've learned will be gone if you don't come back.'

Orander laughed. 'All this argument, and we don't even know if the stones can open a portal to another plane.'

'I almost hope they don't,' the tiny woman replied, shaking her head.

Chapter 2

When my Uncle Trapspringer set out on his first great adventure his sister, Ripple, went along to keep him company. They were approaching Lytburg when they saw some soldiers who spied them at the same time…

'Kender!' the soldier shouted, pointing toward Trap-springer and Ripple Fargo who had just rounded a bend in the dusty road. The warning alerted the rest of the troop, who were taking advantage of the forest shade to rest and eat a midday meal. The soldiers tossed food and flasks aside as they jumped to their feet, most dashing for their horses.

'Wow, look, they certainly seem glad to see us,' said Trap, as his family called him. He watched the soldiers run into each other as they tried to reach their mounts.

'Lytburg must be a friendly place,' his sister, Ripple, replied. She waved at the few soldiers who were still staring in their direction, then brushed at the road dust on her leather leggings and boots and swept a hand from her forehead to her top knot, checking to see if any tendrils had worked loose.

'I told you we should have found a stream and washed away the dust from the road,' she said. 'It's the least we could have done for people who are glad to see us. I'm so glad they are here, I've been so tired of not seeing anyone on the road, and they're eating, do you think they might share some of their food with us?' She gave a skip as she walked at her brother's side.

The soldiers certainly were excited. The first to reach his horse was obviously the leader of the troop. He wore a shining, ornately trimmed helmet and a glittering coat of chain mail while the others wore metal-trimmed, hardened leather breastplates. He jerked the reins before he had his right foot set in the stirrup. His mount shied and the rider slid sideways in the saddle. The other rushing men, the sidling horses, and an off-balance rider threw the leader's mount into a panic. He bucked and turned, blocking the next two riders as they tried to pass him.

Trap and Ripple watched, fascinated. As the horse sidled back and forth, the leader's armor sparkled in the sun and reflected small sunbeams onto the road and into the deep shade of the forest. The kender were so busy enjoying the show that they missed seeing the archers who had eschewed their mounts and crept nearer using the bushes for cover. Both kender forgot the struggling rider when an arrow whizzed by Trap's shoulder.

'That's not friendly!' Ripple gasped, her eyes wide.

'They've made a mistake!' Trap said. Neither he nor his sister had done anything to incur the wrath of the patrol. Still, the soldiers seemed too intent on shooting them to listen to explanations. He grabbed Ripple's arm and jerked her away as a shower of arrows arose from the underbrush.

He led the way as they raced a few paces up the road. They would never be able to outrun arrows, so he jerked Ripple to the right and pulled her into the underbrush close to the side of the road. The showers of arrows continued. Trap felt a thud as an arrow struck him. He had not even felt the pain. He released Ripple's hand as he gingerly felt for a wound.

'It hit your bedroll,' she told him and led the way into the denser undergrowth.

Behind them they heard pounding hooves and running feet followed by the sound of snapping branches.

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