Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [33]
“I only want to go as far as that grove of trees at the end of the street,” Tas said, pointing. “Look—it’s just an ordinary grove of ordinary oak trees. Probably a park or something. Maybe we could have lunch—”
“I don’t like this place!” Flint said stubbornly. “It reminds me of … of … Darken Wood—that place where Raistlin spoke to the spooks.”
“Oh, you’re the only spook here!” Tas said irritably, determined to ignore the fact that it reminded him of the same thing. “It’s broad daylight. We’re in the center of a city, for the love of Reorx—”
“Then why is it freezing cold?”
“It’s winter!” the kender shouted, waving his arms. He hushed immediately, staring around in alarm at the weird way his words echoed through the silent streets. “Are you coming?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Flint drew a deep breath. Scowling, he gripped his battle-axe and marched down the street toward the kender, casting a wary eye at the buildings as though at any moment a spectre might leap out at him.
“ ’Tisn’t winter,” the dwarf muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Except around here.”
“It won’t be spring for weeks,” Tas returned, glad to have something to argue about and keep his mind off the strange things his stomach was doing—twisting into knots and the like.
But Flint refused to quarrel—a bad sign. Silently, the two crept down the empty street until they reached the end of the block. Here the buildings ended abruptly in a grove of trees. As Tas had said, it seemed just an ordinary grove of oak trees, although they were certainly the tallest oaks either the dwarf or the kender had seen in long years of exploring Krynn.
But as the two approached, they felt the strange chilling sensation become stronger until it was worse than any cold they had ever experienced, even the cold of the glacier in Ice Wall. It was worse because it came from within and it made no sense! Why should it be so cold in just this part of the city? The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But soon their fingers were numb and stiff. Flint could no longer hold his battle-axe and was forced to put it back in its holder with shaking hands. Tas’s teeth chattered, he had lost all feeling in his pointed ears, and he shivered violently.
“L-let’s g-get out-t of h-here …” stammered the dwarf through blue lips.
“W-we’re j-just s-standing in a sh-shadow of a building.” Tas nearly bit his tongue. “W-when we g-get in the s-s-sunshine, it’ll war-warm up.”
“No f-fire on K-K-Krynn will w-warm th-this!” Flint snapped viciously, stomping on the ground to get the circulation started in his feet.
“J-just a f-few m-more f-feet …” Tas kept going along gamely, even though his knees knocked together. But he went alone. Turning around, he saw that Flint seemed paralyzed, unable to move. His head was bowed, his beard quivered.
I should go back, Tas thought, but he couldn’t. The curiosity that did more than anything in the world to reduce the kender population kept drawing him forward.
Tas came to the edge of the grove of oak trees and—here—his heart almost failed him. Kender are normally immune to the sensation of fear, so only a kender could have come even this far. But now Tas found himself a prey to the most unreasoning terror he had ever experienced. And whatever was causing it was located within that grove of oak trees.
They’re ordinary trees, Tas said to himself, shivering. I’ve talked to spectres in Darken Wood. I’ve faced three or four dragons. I broke a dragon orb. Just an ordinary grove of trees. I was prisoner in a wizard’s castle. I saw a demon from the Abyss. Just a grove of ordinary trees.
Slowly, talking to himself, Tasslehoff inched his way through the oak trees. He didn’t go far, not even past the row of trees that formed the outer perimeter of the grove. Because now he could see into the heart of the