The wind picked up, shrieking through the ruins, blowing sand and dirt into their faces. The blistering heat of the day had become the harsh cold of night.
"But through my contacts," the creature hissed, "I discovered that one of them had sent a message to a young female, apparently his sister. And this female is on her way here!"
"Here?"
Looking guardedly over his shoulder, the scaly creature leaned over and whispered to the Nightmaster, telling him how the one called Kitiara had received the message and departed immediately. She could be expected to arrive on the island within days. With a ghastly wink, the scaly one assured the Nightmaster that its sources were impeccable, that this news could be relied upon.
Puffed up with arrogant pride, the visitor took another long drink.
With an impassive expression, the Nightmaster watched the creature. "And you think," rumbled the Nightmaster, "that the one I seek is this young mage from Solace—not the prisoner in Lacynos?"
"Yes," hissed the visitor, "and the young mage has disappeared. He and two friends have left Solace. They, too, may be on their way here."
Sighing, the Nightmaster raised his huge head, his horns stabbing upward as he cast his eyes toward the dark sky, searching for omens. The Nightmaster wasn't worried. He, above all, had supreme confidence.
Something was afoot, but it couldn't be anything serious. These were minor irritants. Fesz had been dispatched to deal with the prisoner in Lacynos. He himself would be prepared to greet the young female. The others, wherever they had disappeared to, would be found. In any case, what danger could they pose to the inevitability of Sargonnas?
"You have done well," growled the Nightmaster to the scaly creature.
The scaly one gulped more spirits. He would depart before daylight. Nobody could attest to having seen him. Nobody would be able to say who or what had served the Nightmaster.
Chapter 7
Escape From Ogrebond
Thud.
Raistlin, Flint, and Tanis landed in a heap in the middle of the floor of a small rectangular, unassuming room with bleached walls. Although mere seconds had passed since they leaped off the precipice, time had seemed to stop and stretch during their fall. All three found themselves breathless, dazed, and disoriented. Flint was the first of the companions to stumble to his feet, followed by the half-elf and the young mage.
No windows or vents broke the smooth stone walls and ceiling of the room where they found themselves. The only entrance appeared to be a thick oaken door. Stunned by the experience of traveling through the portal, Tanis crawled over and pressed his ear against the door but could hear nothing.
In the center of the room stood its single item of interest, a huge, gilded, oval piece of glass, shiny and suggestive of a mirror but not a mirror. The oval sat on a wooden base propped up at a sharp angle. At its widest point, the oval's reflective surface curved into a wide indentation, broken in the middle by a needle-thin slit.
Wearing the black gem the Ogress had given him, Raistlin approached the oval, gripping the amulet tightly. He murmured an obscure incantation, followed by a simple command: "Close gate."
The surface moved almost imperceptibly, like the blink of an eye, and the needle-thin slash disappeared. Raistlin removed the amulet from around his neck, wrapped it in some cloth, and stuffed it in one of the folds of his cloak.
"Naturally I'm grateful that we didn't get smashed to bits on those rocks," said Flint, "but where are we?"
Raistlin, occupied with concealing the amulet, said nothing. By the door, Tanis had pulled himself to his feet and was giving the steel handle a fruitless tug.
"It's locked," said Tanis.
"I expected as much," said Raistlin.
"Sealed tight," Tanis continued, squatting to peer through the keyhole. "There's no draft. I can't see much other than a dark hallway and several other doors."
"Outside or inside?" asked Flint, coming over.
"What?" asked Tanis.
"Is the door locked from the outside or inside?"
"Why, it has to be locked from the outside, doesn't it?" Tanis asked, puzzled.
"Don't be too sure," Raistlin cautioned, coming over to inspect the door. He braced himself against the wall, shaking his head as if to clear it. Flint and Tanis exchanged looks. "It seems I am a little wobbly still," explained the young mage.
"It's locked from the inside," declared Flint authoritatively after giving the mechanism of the lock a once-over.
"How can it be locked from the inside? That doesn't make any sense."
But Flint was no longer paying any attention to Tanis. He had taken out one of his long, thin knives and a stitching needle and was poking inside the lock. The diminutive dwarf didn't have to bend over far in order to bring his eyes level with his work. Several minutes passed in silence while he fiddled with his makeshift lockpick.
'Too bad Tasslehoff isn't with us," Tanis said. He smiled at the realization that he actually missed the kender. "He'd make short work of that lock."
Flint paused to glare at the half-elf. "That doorknob of a kender would take so long telling you about the time his Uncle Trapspringer was in a similar predicament that he'd totally forget what he was supposed to be doing." The dwarf turned back to his task.
Flint grunted with satisfaction as he heard the click that he was straining to hear. He gave the stitching needle an upward thrust. The door cracked open just a hairsbreadth. "Not to mention the fact that Tas is the reason we've portaled ourselves into this room in the first place!" Flint added righteously.
Raistlin stood up, recovered. "Careful," the young mage warned before sliding open the door and slipping out.
Tanis followed quickly.
"Wait for me!!" cried Flint, hurrying to tuck away his tools and follow.
While the light in the locked room had been dim, the hallway plunged them into
