Dragons of the Autumn Twilight - Margaret Weis [193]
He had no time to ponder this strange occurrence. The gully dwarves, catching sight of the flash of steel, dropped their pots and ran wildly down the corridor.
“Never mind them!” Tanis snapped at Flint. “Into the playroom. Hurry!” Stepping over the bodies, he flung the door open.
“If anyone finds these bodies, it’ll be all over,” Caramon said.
“It was over before we began!” Sturm muttered angrily. “We’ve been betrayed, so it’s just a matter of time.”
“Keep moving!” Tanis said sharply, shutting the door behind them.
“Be very quiet,” Maritta whispered. “Flamestrike generally sleeps soundly. If she does waken, act like women. She’ll never recognize you. She’s blind in one eye.”
The chill dawn light filtered in through tiny windows high above the floor, shining on a grim, cheerless playroom. A few well-used toys lay scattered about. There was no furniture. Caramon walked over to inspect the huge wooden beam barring the double doors that led to the courtyard outside.
“I can manage,” he said. The big man appeared to lift the beam effortlessly, then set it against the wall and shoved on the door. “Not locked from the outside,” he reported. “I guess they didn’t expect us to get this far.”
Or perhaps Lord Verminaard wants us out there, Tanis thought. He wondered if what the draconian said was true. Had the Dragon Highlord and the dragon really gone? Or were they—angrily he wrenched his mind back. It doesn’t matter, he told himself. We have no choice. We must go on.
“Flint, stay here,” he said. “If anyone comes, warn us first, then fight.”
Flint nodded and took a position just inside the door leading to the corridor, first opening it a crack to see. The draconian bodies had turned to dust on the floor.
Maritta took a torch from the wall. Lighting it, she led the companions through a dark archway into the tunnel leading to the dragon’s lair.
“Fizban! Your hat!” Tas risked whispering. Too late. The old magician made a grab for it but missed.
“Spies!” yelled Verminaard in a rage, pointing up to the balcony. “Capture them, Ember! I want them alive!”
Alive? the dragon repeated to himself. No, that could not be! Pyros recalled the strange sound he had heard last night and he knew without a doubt that these spies had overheard him talking about the Green Gemstone Man! Only a privileged few knew that dread secret, the great secret, the secret that would conquer the world for the Queen of Darkness. These spies must die, and the secret die with them.
Pyros spread his wings and launched himself into the air, using his powerful back legs to propel himself from the floor with tremendous speed.
This is it! thought Tasslehoff. Now we’ve done it. There’s no escape this time.
Just as he resigned himself to being cooked by a dragon, he heard the magician shout a single word of command and a thick, unnatural darkness almost knocked the kender over.
“Run!” panted Fizban, grabbing the kender’s hand and dragging Tas to his feet.
“Sestun—”
“I’ve got him! Run!”
Tasslehoff ran. They flew out the door and into the gallery, then he had no idea where he was going. He just kept hold of the old man and ran. Behind him he could hear the sound of the dragon whooshing up out of his lair and he heard the dragon’s voice.
“So you are a magic-user, are you, spy?” Pyros shouted. “We can’t have you running around in the dark. You might get lost. Let me light your way!”
Tasslehoff heard a great intake of breath into a giant body, then flames crackled and burned around him. The darkness vanished, driven away by the fire’s flaring light, but, to his amazement, Tas wasn’t touched by the flame. He looked at Fizban—hatless—running next to him. They were in the gallery still, heading for the double doors.
The kender twisted his head. Behind him loomed the dragon,