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“Sure, my boy!” Fizban beamed. “At least until this adventure’s ended.”

“Or it ends us,” Tanis muttered, climbing rapidly over the rocks. The draconians were drawing nearer and nearer.

2

The golden span.

Up and up into the hills they climbed, the draconians in pursuit of the group, who now appeared to them to be spies.

The group had lost the trail Caramon used chasing after Berem, but could not take time to search for it. They were considerably startled, therefore, when they suddenly came across Caramon, sitting calmly on a boulder, Berem—unconscious—stretched out beside him.

“What happened?” Tanis asked, breathing heavily, exhausted after the long climb.

“I caught up with him, finally.” Caramon shook his head. “And he put up a fight. He’s strong for an old guy, Tanis. I had to clunk him. I’m afraid I was a bit too hard, though,” he added, staring down at the comatose figure remorsefully.

“Great!” Tanis was too tired even to swear.

“I’ll handle this,” Tika said, reaching into a leather pouch.

“The draconians are coming up past that last big rock,” Flint reported as he stumbled into view. The dwarf seemed about done in. He collapsed onto a rock, mopping his sweating face with the end of his beard.

“Tika—” Tanis began.

“Found it!” she said triumphantly, pulling out a small vial. Kneeling down beside Berem, she took the stopper from the vial and waved it under his nose. The unconscious man drew a breath, then immediately began to cough.

Tika slapped him on the cheeks. “On your feet!” she said in her barmaid voice. “Unless you want the draconians to catch you.”

Berem’s eyes flew open in alarm. Clutching his head, he sat up dizzily. Caramon helped him stand.

“That’s wonderful, Tika!” Tas said in excitement. “Let me—” Before she could stop him, Tas grabbed the vial and held it up to his own nose, inhaling deeply.

“Eeee Ahhhh!” The kender gagged, staggering back into Fizban, who had come up the path after Flint. “Ugh! Tika! That’s … awful!” He could barely speak. “What is it?”

“Some concoction of Otik’s,” Tika said, grinning. “All of us barmaids carried it. Came in handy in lots of instances, if you take my meaning.” Her smile slipped. “Poor Otik,” she said softly. “I wonder what’s become of him. And the Inn—”

“No time for that now, Tika,” Tanis said impatiently. “We’ve got to go. On your feet, old man!” This to Fizban, who was just sitting down comfortably.

“I’ve got a spell,” Fizban protested as Tas tugged and prodded him up. “Take care of those pests instantly. Poof!”

“No!” Tanis said. “Absolutely not. With my luck, you’d turn them all into trolls.”

“I wonder if I could …” Fizban’s face brightened.

The afternoon sun was just beginning to slide down the rim of the sky when the trail they had been following ever higher into the mountains suddenly branched off into two different directions. One led into the mountain peaks, the other seemed to wind around the side. There might be a pass among the peaks, Tanis thought; a pass they could defend, if necessary.

But before he could say a word, Fizban started off on the trail that wound around the mountain. “This way,” the old mage announced, leaning on his staff as he tottered forward.

“But—” Tanis started to protest.

“Come on, come on. This way!” said Fizban insistently, turning around and glaring at them from beneath his bushy white eyebrows. “That way leads to a dead end—in more ways than one. I know. I’ve been here before. This leads around the side of a mountain to a great gorge. Bridge over the gorge. We can get across, then fight the draconians when they try to come after us.”

Tanis scowled, unwilling to trust the crazy old mage.

“It is a good plan, Tanis,” Caramon said slowly. “It’s obvious we’re going to have to fight them sometime.” He pointed to the draconians climbing up the mountain trails after them.

Tanis glanced around. They were all exhausted. Tika’s face was pale, her eyes glazed. She leaned on Caramon, who had even left his spears back on the trail to lighten his burden.

Tasslehoff grinned at Tanis cheerfully. But the kender was