arms. He cleared his throat to get their attention, and then said, 'It would be better not to wait. If you can free us from the ancient Kishpa's memory, you should do it soon.' The mage reluctantly pulled away from Brandella and nodded. 'I don't know if my magic will work. I've rethought all of my spells, trying to find a new combination of conjurings that will have the desired effect. I don't know if I can do it.' 'But you can try,' countered Tanis. 'And so I shall. But I would like a moment alone with Brandella first.' Tanis limped toward the dwarf and innkeeper near the bar. Hint was appraising the half-elf with an approving eye. 'You did well,' Hint said. 'A rule of thumb, though.' He leaned closely. Tanis winced at the odor of stale ale on the dwarf's breath. 'Don't ever fight wizards.' Tanis looked Hint straight in his slightly bloodshot eyes. 'Then why did you jump in to help me?' Hint shrugged. 'You looked like you could use a hand. Who are you, anyway?' 'His name is Tanis,' said Scowarr, who had quietly joined the trio. 'But he is rarely funny.' 'And you are?' the dwarf asked Little Shoulders. 'Tell me something amusing.' Scowarr sat down next to Hint and began quietly telling him a story…
As Scowarr spoke in low tones, Tanis drifted toward Brandella and Kishpa. The mage saw him coming and regretfully led the woman to the doorway of the Inn of the Last Home. Tanis joined her there, taking her hand.
Kishpa kissed her one last time. And then he surprised Tanis by saying, 'Half-Elven, there is no one I would entrust her with but you. I thank you for coming to get her. I know you risked not only your life but your world to do this thing for me. Don't think it escapes me.'
Tanis touched Kishpa's arm. 'Have a good life between now and then.'
Kishpa put his hand over Tanis's but said nothing.
The mage stepped back, gave Brandella a last, loving look, and then closed his eyes. Kishpa's lips began to move. At first, Tanis didn't hear him say anything. Soon, though, he could make out the faint sound of odd words spoken in a peculiar rhythm. The chanting became louder.
At that moment, Tanis also heard the sound of Hint roaring with laughter. Scowarr had found a willing audience.
Kishpa's chanting grew even louder.
Tanis felt the pull of the magic. Soon his mind swirled with images. He saw the burnt glade next to the pond. He saw ashes floating in the water. He heard the ragged breathing of the ancient Kishpa. But it was a blur- unreal, untouchable, yet somehow tangible. He and Brandella floated there, looking down from on high as if they were seeing a picture in a cloud that kept changing with the wind.
They were getting closer. He could smell the aftermath of the fire. He could even feel the heat of the sun. Soon the ground below seemed almost real enough to step down upon.
Suddenly, he noticed a change. Something that he had noted was no longer there. Then he realized: The breathing had stopped. The ground beneath his feet vanished. The glade disappeared. The sights, the smells, all were no more. Everything was gone except for an impenetrable darkness and the familiar sound of a beating heart. Except it was beating too slowly, irregularly. Tanis was still holding Brandella's hand, but he could not see her in the blackness.
Kishpa, ancient in years and ravaged by fire, was losing his final battle.
Although neither could hear the other, Tanis and Brandella called out to Kishpa, urging him, begging him, to fight death just a little longer, to live, to bring them home.
Their cries fell on ears that could no longer hear.
Kishpa was dead.
The beating heart stilled.
Tanis realized that they might exist in this netherworld forever, sailing on a sea of black in a mind that no longer could think or feel.
The darkness loomed empty, bleak, and seemingly never-ending… until they saw a spot of light far in the distance. It was tiny but bright. And it was getting ever closer. Was it a sun? A moon? A fire that would consume them? All Tanis knew was that they were hurtling straight toward it.
29
The bright light was not a star a moon, or a fire. It was merely an opening at the end of an almost infinite corridor, much like the bright light one sees when looking at the opening of a mine from deep inside the shaft. When Tanis and Brandella finally came tumbling out of the darkness, they were dumped onto a flower bed awash with vivid colors. Above them stood trees with bright purple leaves. Blinded by the light, neither could see anything but flashes of brilliant color for several minutes. As they groped about the flower bed, Tanis called out, 'Are you all right7 Are you hurt?'
Brandella's voice floated shakily to him through the blotches of red, orange, purple, and magenta. 'Nothing broken. What about you7'
He made another attempt to focus on what appeared to be a chrysanthemum-although he'd never seen one in that particular shade of chartreuse. 'Fine. I'm fine. At least I think so.'
'I wonder where we are,' Brandella said, rubbing her eyes.
'You're in my garden!' boomed an angry male voice. 'And you're ruining it!'
Tanis tried to crawl toward the voice, squashing a splotch of pink under one knee.
The voice grew more strident. 'Don't move! You're making it worse. Wait until your eyes adjust.'
They did as they were instructed. As they sat, though, Tanis asked, 'Other than your garden, what is this place?'
There was a pause. 'You don't know?'
Tanis shook his head.
A short, baritone chuckle broke the silence. 'Why, this place is Death. Everyone who comes here knows that.'
Flower gardens in Death? Tanis wondered. A white and black tulip slowly came into focus before him, then drifted out again.
'That can't be,' explained Brandella. 'We're not dead. At least I don't think we are. Are we dead, Tanis?'
Tanis studied the tulip. When it came back into focus again, it was lavender and black. He shook his head, hoping to clear it, and a cloud of unfocused multicolored snow drifted down past his eyes. 'I have no idea. I certainly hope not.'
Their eyes slowly stopped tearing, and they were able to see their surroundings. They saw the flowers and the trees. And they saw the man who glared at them. He was a middle-aged human of stature, with a full beard, elegantly sweeping mustache, and sinewy arms. He obviously had been a well-built, powerful man in his youth. He was dressed simply, in loose white pants and a flowing, white shirt.
Dozens of petals clung to Brandella's mane of curly hair. She looked at Tanis and giggled, and Tanis knew his own red-brown locks were similarly adorned.
'Ah, you two can see now?' the man demanded. 'Then please leave my garden.'
They gingerly stepped out of the flowers. The man stood half a head taller than Tanis. Brandella made an attempt to assuage the man's irritation.
'I've never seen flowers like that,' she said. 'They're beautiful.' She knelt to smell a blossoming yellow and green flower with splotches of pink and red on its petals. The man, seemingly mollified, smiled indulgently down on her.
'They're from the Age of Dreams,' the man said, hands on his hips. 'They don't grow on Krynn anymore. The same is true of the trees.'
She sniffed at the blossom, and a look of surprise crossed her face. 'It has no scent,' she said, perplexed, rocking back on her heels.
'That's the shame of it,' admitted their guide. 'They look good, but they're dead. Like everything else
