Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [116]
His touch was like cool water to a fevered man. Tanis felt reason return. The bloody haze cleared from his vision. He dropped the blood-stained sword from his red hands and collapsed, sobbing, at Fizban’s feet. The old man leaned down and gently patted him.
“Be strong, Tanis,” he said softly, “for you must say goodbye to one who has a long journey before him.
Tanis remembered. “Flint!” he gasped.
Fizban nodded sadly, glancing at Berem’s body. “Come along. There’s nothing more you can do here.”
Swallowing his tears, Tanis staggered to his feet. Shoving aside the mage, he stumbled over to where Flint lay on the rocky ground, his head resting on Tasslehoff’s lap.
The dwarf smiled as he saw the half-elf approach. Tanis dropped down on his knees beside his oldest friend. Taking Flint’s gnarled hand in his, the half-elf held it fast.
“I almost lost him, Tanis,” Flint said. With his other hand he tapped his chest. “Berem was just about to slip out through that other hole in the rocks over there when this old heart of mine finally burst. He—he heard me cry out, I guess, because the next thing I knew he had me in his arms and was laying me down on the rocks.”
“Then he didn’t—he didn’t—harm you …” Tanis could barely speak.
Flint managed a snort. “Harm me! He couldn’t harm a mouse, Tanis. He’s as gentle as Tika.” The dwarf smiled up at the girl, who also knelt beside him. “You take care of that big oaf, Caramon, you hear?” he said to her. “See he comes in out of the rain.”
“I will, Flint.” Tika wept.
“At least you won’t be trying to drown me anymore,” the dwarf grumbled, his eyes resting fondly on Caramon. “And if you see that brother of yours, give him a kick in the robes for me.”
Caramon could not speak. He only shook his head. “I—I’ll go look after Berem,” the big man mumbled. Taking hold of Tika, he gently helped her stand and led her away.
“No, Flint! You can’t go off adventuring without me!” Tas wailed. “You’ll get into no end of trouble, you know you will!”
“It’ll be the first moment of peace I’ve had since we met,” the dwarf said gruffly. “I want you to have my helm, the one with the griffon’s mane.” He glared at Tanis sternly, then turned his gaze back to the sobbing kender. Sighing, he patted Tas’s hand. “There, there, lad, don’t take on so. I’ve had a happy life, blessed with faithful friends. I’ve seen evil things, but I’ve seen a lot of good things, too. And now hope has come into the world. I hate to leave you”—his rapidly dimming vision focused on Tanis—“just when you need me. But I’ve taught you all I know, lad. Everything will be fine. I know … fine …”
His voice sank, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Tanis held tightly to his hand. Tasslehoff buried his face in Flint’s shoulder. Then Fizban appeared, standing at Flint’s feet.
The dwarf opened his eyes. “I know you, now,” he said softly, his eyes bright as he looked at Fizban. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? At least at the beginning of the journey … so I won’t be alone? I’ve walked with friends so long, I feel … kind of funny … going off like this … by myself.”
“I’ll come with you,” Fizban promised gently. “Close your eyes and rest now, Flint. The troubles of this world are yours no longer. You have earned the right to sleep.”
“Sleep,” the dwarf said, smiling. “Yes, that’s what I need. Wake me when you’re ready … wake me when it’s time to leave …” Flint’s eyes closed. He drew in a smooth easy breath, then let it out.…
Tanis pressed the dwarf’s hand to his lips. “Farewell, old friend,” the half-elf whispered, and he placed the hand on the dwarf’s still chest.
“No! Flint! No!