"You—you want to go there!" Tas gasped.
"Of course," Lady Crysania said coldly. "I go there to seek the Forestmaster's help. It would take me many long months to travel from here to the Forest of Wayreth, even on horseback. Silver dragons dwell in Darken Wood with the Forestmaster. They will fly me to my destination."
"But the spectres, the ancient dead king and his followers—”
"were released from their terrible bondage when they answered the call to fight the Dragon Highlords," Lady Crysania said, somewhat sharply. "You really should study the history of the war, Tasslehoff. Especially since you were involved in it. When the human and elven forces combined to recapture Qualinesti, the spectres of Darken Wood fought with them and thus broke the dark enchantment that held them bound to dreadful life. They left this world and have been seen no more."
"Oh," said Tas stupidly. After glancing about for a moment, he sat back down on his bedroll. "I talked to them," he continued wistfully. "They were very polite—sort of abrupt in their comings and goings, but very polite. It's kind of sad to think—”
"I am quite tired," interrupted Lady Crysania. "And I have a long journey ahead of me tomorrow. I will take the gully dwarf and continue on to Darken Wood. You can take your besotted friend back home where he will—hopefully—find the help he needs. Now go to sleep."
"Shouldn't one of us . . . stay on watch?" Tas asked hesitantly. "Those rangers said—” He stopped suddenly. Those "rangers" had been in the inn that wasn't.
"Nonsense. Paladine will guard our rest," said Lady Crysania sharply. Closing her eyes, she began to recite soft words of prayer.
Tas gulped. "I wonder if we know the same Paladine?" he asked, thinking of Fizban and feeling very lonesome. But he said it under his breath, not wanting to be accused of blasphemy again. Lying down, he squirmed in his blankets but could not get comfortable. Finally, still wide awake, he sat back up and leaned against a tree trunk. The spring night was cool but not unpleasantly chill. The sky was clear, and there was no wind. The trees rustled with their own conversations, feeling new life running through their limbs, waking after their long winter's sleep. Running his hand over the ground, Tas fingered the new grass poking up beneath the decaying leaves.
The kender sighed. It was a nice night. Why did he feel uneasy? Was that a sound? A twig breaking? Tas started and looked around, holding his breath to hear better. Nothing. Silence. Glancing up into the heavens, he saw the constellation of Paladine, the Platinum Dragon, revolving around the constellation of Gilean, the Scales of Balance.Across from Paladine—each keeping careful watch upon the other—was the constellation of the Queen of Darkness—Takhisis, the FiveHeaded Dragon.
"You're awfully far away up there," Tas said to the Platinum Dragon. "And you've got a whole world to watch, not just us. I'm sure you won't mind if I guard our rest tonight, too. No disrepect intended, of course. It's just that I have the feeling Someone Else up there is watching us tonight, too, if you take my meaning." The kender shivered. "I don't know why I feel so queer all of a sudden. Maybe it's just being so close to Darken Wood and—well, I'm responsible for everyone apparently!"
It was an uncomfortable thought for a kender. Tas was accustomed to being responsible for himself, but when he'd traveled with Tanis and the others, there had always been someone else responsible for the group. There had been strong, skilled warriors –
What was that? He'd definitely heard something that time! Jumping up, Tas stood quietly, staring into the darkness. There was silence, then a rustle, then -
A squirrel. Tas heaved a sigh that came from his toes.
"While I'm up, I'll just go put another log on the fire," he said to himself. Hurrying over, he glanced at Caramon and felt.a pang. It would have been much easier standing watch in the darkness if he knew he could count on Caramon's strong arm. Instead, the warrior had fallen over on his back, his eyes closed, his mouth open, snoring in drunken contentment. Curled about Caramon's boot, her head on his foot, Bupu's snores mingled with his. Across from them, as far away as possible, Lady Crysania slept peacefully, her smooth cheek resting on her folded hands.
With a trembling sigh, Tas cast the logs on the fire. Watching it blaze up, he settled himself down to watch, staring intently into the night-shrouded trees whose whispering words now had an ominous tone. Then, there it was again.
"Squirrel!" Tas whispered resolutely.
Was that something moving in the shadows? There was a distinct crack—like a twig snapping in two. No squirrel did that! Tas fumbled about in his pouch until his hand closed over a small knife.
The forest was moving! The trees were closing in!
Tas tried to scream a warning, but a thin-limbed branch grabbed hold of his arm . . ..
"Aiiii," Tas shouted, twisting free and stabbing at the branch with his knife.
There was a curse and yelp of pain. The branch let loose its hold, and Tas breathed a sigh. No tree he had ever met yelped in pain. Whatever they were facing was living, breathing . . ..
"Attack!" the kender yelled, stumbling backward. "Caramon! Help! Caramon—”
Two years before, the big warrior would have been on his feet instantly, his hand closing over the hilt of his sword, alert and ready for battle. But Tas, scrambling to get his back to the fire, his small knife the only thing keeping whatever it was at bay, saw Caramon's head loll to one side in drunken contentment.
"Lady Crysania!" Tas screamed wildly, seeing more dark shapes creep from the woods. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"
He could feel the heat of the fire now. Keeping an eye on the menacing shadows, Tas reached down and grabbed a smoldering log by one end—he hoped it was the cool end. Lifting it up, he thrust the firebrand out before him.
There was movement as one of the creatures made a dive for him. Tas swiped out with his knife, driving it back. But in that instant, as it came into the light of his brand, he'd caught a glimpse of it.
"Caramon!" he shrieked. "Draconians!"
Lady Crysania was awake now; Tas saw her sit up, staring around in sleepy confusion.
"The fire!" Tas shouted to her desperately. "Get near the fire!" Stumbling over Bupu, the kender kicked Caramon. "Draconians!" he yelled again.
One of Caramon's eyes opened, then the other, glaring around muzzily.
"Caramon! Thank the gods!" Tas gasped in relief.
Caramon sat up. Peering around the camp, completely disoriented and confused, he was still warrior enough to be hazily aware of danger. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he gripped the hilt of his sword and belched.
"Washit?" he mumbled, trying to focus his eyes.
"Draconians!" Tasslehoff screeched, hopping around like a small demon, waving his firebrand and his knife with such vigor that he actually succeeded in keeping his enemies at bay.
"Draconians?" Caramon muttered, staring around in disbelief. Then he caught a glimpse of a twisted reptilian face in the light of the dying fire. His eyes opened wide. "Draconians!" he snarled. "Tanis! Sturm! Come to me! Raistlin—your magic! We'll take them."
Yanking his sword from its scabbard, Caramon plunged ahead with a rumbling battle cry—and fell flat on his face.
Bupu clung to his foot.
"Oh, no!" Tas groaned.
Caramon lay on the ground, blinking and shaking his head in wonder, trying to figure out what hit him. Bupu, rudely awakened, began to howl in terror and pain, then bit Caramon on the ankle.
Tas started forward to help the fallen warrior—at least drag Bupu off him—when he heard a cry. Lady Crysania! Damn! He'd forgotten about her! Whirling around, he saw the cleric struggling with one of the dragonmen.
Tas hurtled forward and stabbed viciously at the draconian. With a shriek, it let loose of Crysania and fell backward, its body turning to stone at Tas's feet. Just in time, the kender remembered to retrieve his knife or the stony corpse would have kept it fast.
Tas dragged Crysania back with him toward the fallen Caramon, who was trying to shake the gully dwarf off his leg.
The draconians closed in. Glancing about feverishly, Tas saw they were surrounded by the creatures. But why weren't they attacking full force? What were they waiting for?
"Are you all right?" he managed to ask Crysania.
"Yes," she said. Though very pale, she appeared calm and—if frightened—was keeping her fear under control. Tas saw her lips move—presumably in silent prayer. The kender's own lips tightened.
"Here, lady," he said, shoving the firebrand in her hand. "I guess you're going to have to fight and pray at the same time."
"Elistan did. So can I," Crysania said, her voice shaking only slightly.
Shouted commands rang out from the shadows. The voice wasn't draconian. Tas couldn't make it out. He only knew that just hearing it gave him cold chills. But there wasn't time to wonder about it. The draconians, their tongues flicking out of their mouths, jumped for them.
Crysania lashed out with the smoldering brand clumsily, but it was enough to make the draconians hesitate. Tas was still trying to pry Bupu off Caramon. But it was a draconian who, inadvertantly, came to their aid. Shoving Tas backward, the dragonman laid a clawed hand on Bupu.
Gully dwarves are noted throughout Krynn for their extreme cowardice and total unreliability in battle. But—when driven into a corner—they can fight like rabid rats.
"Glupsludge!" Bupu screamed in anger and, turning from gnawing on Caramon's ankle, she sank her teeth into the scaly hide of the draconian's leg.
Bupu didn't have many teeth, but what she did have were sharp, and she bit into the draconian's green flesh with a relish occasioned by the fact that she hadn't eaten much dinner.
The draconian gave a hideous yell. Raising its sword, it was about to end Bupu's days upon Krynn when Caramon— bumbling around trying to see what was going on— accidentally sliced off the creature's arm. Bupu sat back, licking her lips, and looked about eagerly for another victim.
"Hurrah! Caramon!" Tas cheered wildly, his small knife stabbing here and there as swiftly as a striking snake. Lady Crysania smashed one draconian with her firebrand, crying out the name of Paladine. The creature pitched over.
There were only two or three draconians still standing that Tas could see, and the kender began to feel elated. The creatures lurked just outside the firelight, eyeing the big warrior, Caramon, warily as he staggered to his feet. Seen only in the shadows, he still cut the menacing figure he had in the old days. His sword blade gleamed wickedly in the red flames.
"Get 'em, Caramon!" Tas yelled shrilly. "Clunk their heads—”
The kender's voice died as Caramon turned slowly to face him, a strange look on his face.
"I'm not Caramon," he said softly. "I'm his twin, Raistlin. Caramon's dead. I killed him." Glancing down at the sword in his hand, the big warrior dropped it as if it stung him. "What am I doing with cold steel in my hands?" he asked harshly. "I can't cast spells with a sword and shield!"
Tasslehoff choked, casting an alarmed glance at the draconians. He could see them exchanging shrewd looks. They began to move forward slowly, though they all kept their gazes fixed upon the big warrior, probably suspecting a trap of some sort.
"You're not Raistlin! You're Caramon!" Tas cried in desperation, but it was no use. The man's brain was still pickled in dwarf spirits. His mind completely unhinged, Caramon closed his eyes, lifted his hands, and began to chant.
"Antsnests silverash bookarah," he murmured, weaving back and forth.
The grinning face of a draconian loomed up before Tas. There was a flash of steel, and the kender's head seemed to explode in pain . . ..
Tas was on the ground. Warm liquid was running down his face, blinding him in one eye, trickling into his mouth. He tasted blood. He was tired . . . very tired . . ..
But the pain was awful. It wouldn't let him sleep. He was afraid to move his head, afraid if he did it might separate into two pieces. And so he lay perfectly still, watching the world from one eye.
He heard the gully dwarf screaming on and on, like a tortured animal, and then the screams suddenly ended. He heard a deep cry of pain, a smothered groan, and a large body crashed to the ground beside him. It was Caramon, blood flowing from his mouth, his eyes wide open and staring.
Tas couldn't feel sad. He couldn't feel anything except the terrible pain in his head. A huge draconian stood over him, sword in hand. He knew that the creature was going to finish him off. Tas didn't care. End the pain, he pleaded. End it quickly.
Then there was a flurry of white robes and a clear voice calling upon Paladine. The draconian disappeared abruptly with the sound of clawed feet scrambling through the brush. The white robes knelt beside him, Tas felt the touch of a gentle hand upon his head, and heard the name of Paladine again. The pain vanished. Looking up, he saw the cleric's hand touch Caramon, saw the big man's eyelids flutter and close in peaceful sleep.
It's all right! Tas thought in elation. They've gone! We're going to be all right. Then he felt the hand tremble. Regaining some of his senses as the cleric's healing powers flooded through his body, the kender raised his head, peering ahead with his good eye.