to see him all that well. But it seemed to me that the more he shouted the thicker the fog got — sort of an 'I'll Show You, Old Man!' type of reaction. And my topknot was soaking wet and dripping water down the back of my shirt, and my shoes were slowly filling up with oozing muck — all of which was very entertaining for a while, but soon lost a lot of its charm.
'Fizban,' I said, going up to tug on his sleeve.
I guess I startled him, coming up on him suddenly out of the fog like that.
At any rate, he apologized very handsomely for hitting me on the nose with his staff and helped pick me up out of the muck and patted my head until it quit ringing. And we thought at first my nose was broken, then decided it wasn't and when the bleeding stopped, we started on our way again.
We walked and we walked. Finally, Fizban said he thought the fog had let up considerably. The result, he said, of a marvelous spell he'd cast on it. I didn't think it was polite to contradict him and besides I could almost sort of see the grass under my feet if I bent down and looked for it, so I figured he must be right. But we slowed our pace quite a bit, especially after Fizban walked BLAM into the tree.
It was either right before or right after he set the tree on fire that we came to Huma's Tomb.
It was daylight now. (We'd spent the night getting here.) The fog lifted just enough for us to see where we were, which I thought was quite sneaky of the fog. Almost like it was laughing at us.
I must tell you I was somewhat disappointed to see Huma's Tomb again. Not that it isn't a wonderful place. It is. Huma's Tomb, for those who haven't made the pilgrimage there, is really a temple. It is rectangular in shape and made out of black rock that Flint called obsidian. The outside is carved all over with knights fighting dragons and it is a very solemn and reverent place.
Inside is Huma's bier where they laid his body to rest. And his shield and sword are still there, but his body isn't. The Tomb is sad because it makes you think about your life and how you wish you'd done things better. But it's a good kind of sad because you realize that there's still the rest of your life for you to change and make better.
That was how I felt when I FIRST saw Huma's Tomb, but now maybe all the fog was making it look different. All I felt now was the kind of sad that doesn't make you feel good inside.
'Ah, ha I' Fizban shouted. 'I know where I am.'
'Huma's Tomb,' I said.
'No!' He was thunderstruck. 'Didn't we just leave here?'
'Yes. We must have been walking in circles. Maybe I'll go say good-bye to Flint, while I'm here,' I said, and started to climb the stairs.
'No, no,' Fizban said quickly, grabbing hold of me. 'They're not there. All gone inside the Silver Dragon Mountain. Silvara's taken them to the magical pool of dragonmetal, used to forge the magical dragonlances. Come along. We have other fish to fry.'
Well, I had to admit that the temple did look dark and deserted now. And fried fish sounded good. So we set out.
We hadn't taken two steps before the fog came back, only this time it was mixed with smoke from the smoldering tree and I couldn't see the grass beneath my feet. I couldn't see my feet.
We walked and walked and walked and stopped and rested and ate dinner. We began to walk again and Fizban told me what a marvelous tracker he was, much better than Riverwind, and how he (Fizban) never ever got lost and how he always kept the wind on his right cheek so moss wouldn't grow on his north side. And then we came to Huma's Tomb. The second time.
'Ah! ha!' cried Fizban, charging out of the fog, and stubbed his toe on the stairs leading up to the temple.
When he saw where we were (for the second time), he shouted. 'You again!' He scowled and shook his fist at the temple. And he kicked the stairs with the same toe he used to bump into them.
Fizban hopped around on one foot and yelled at the stairs, which was fun to watch for a while, but must have got pretty boring later on because the next thing I knew I was asleep.
What I mean to say is that the next thing I knew I was awake, but I must have fallen asleep in order to have woken up, mustn't I? I think I slept for a considerable length of time because I was all stiff and sore from lying on the slick, black stairs, and I was wet and cold and hungry.
'Fizban?' I said.
He wasn't there.
I felt sort of creepy, maybe because the Tomb was sort of creepy. My stomach twisted up, because I was afraid something might have happened to Fizban and, to be honest, this fog was starting to make my skin shiver, as Flint would say. Then I heard him snore. (Fizban.) He was sleeping on the grass with his injured foot propped up on a step and his hat over it (his foot).
I was very glad to see him and guess I startled him, waking him up suddenly with a yell like that. He apologized for letting off the fireball, and we were able to have a hot breakfast, due to the fact that another tree was burning. He said that my eyebrows would grow back any day.
After breakfast, off we went again — Fizban with his foot wrapped up in a dish towel I'd found in my pouch. We walked around in the fog for I forget how long except I remember eating again and sleeping again and then we came to Huma's Tomb.
For the third time.
I don't mean to offend any knights when I say this, but I was beginning to be a little bored at the sight of it.
'This does it,' Fizban muttered, and he started to roll up his sleeves. 'Follow us, will you!'
'I don't think it's following us,' I pointed out, and I'm afraid I spoke pretty sharp. 'I think we're following it!'
'No!' Fizban looked amazed. Then confused. 'Do you think so?'
'Yes,' I snapped, wondering if my eyebrows would truly grow back and wishing I could see what I looked like without them. In fact, I was wishing I could see anything, besides Huma's Tomb and fog and burning trees.
'Then you don't think I should let loose with a real rip-snorter of a spell and blow it sky high?' he asked, in a kind of wistful tone.
'I don't think the knights would like that,' I pointed out testily. 'And you know how they can be.'
(No offense. I don't mean all knights. Just some knights.)
'Besides,' I continued, 'Huma might come back and be really put out to find that someone blew up his Tomb while he was gone. And I can't say that I'd blame him.'
'No, I suppose not,' said Fizban, unhappily. 'Maybe I could just blow up the stairs?'
'How will Huma get up to the door if the stairs are gone?'
'I see your point.' Fizban heaved a sigh.
'You know, Fizban,' I said sternly (I decided I had to be stern), 'this has been a lot of fun. Really. It's not everyday I get my nose almost broken and both my eyebrows singed off and watch you set fire to two trees and see Huma's Tomb in the fog three times (four for me) but I think we've done just about everything exciting there is to do around here. It's time to move on. WHEREVER IT IS WE'RE GOING.' I said the last words in an extra firm tone, hoping he'd take the hint.
Fizban muttered around awhile and did a few magic tricks that were kind of interesting, like shooting off some white and purple stars. He asked me how I liked that one and would I like to see some more?
I said no.
Then he got real flustered and took off his hat and took off the dish towel from around his hurt foot and put his hat back on, only he put it on his foot and put the dish towel over his head.
Suddenly he said, 'I've got it! A spell — '
'Wait! Not yet!' I cried, jumping up and covering my face with my hands.
'A spell that will take us right where we want to go!' he shouted triumphantly. 'Here, grab hold of my sleeve. Hang on tight, there's a good lad. Keep your hand out of my pouch. Wizard-stuff in there. And some rather fine liverwurst. Ready? Here we go!'
Well, I thought. Finally! At last!
I grabbed hold of Fizban's sleeve and he spoke some words that sounded like spiders crawling around inside my head. Everything went blurry and I heard a sound like wind blowing in my ears.
