Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [143]
“But the dragon orbs have been missing for hundreds of years!” Tas said incredulously. “No one knew about them! How could it be your Life Quest?”
“Oh, we knew about them,” Gnosh answered, “because it was my grandfather’s Life Quest, and then my father’s Life Quest. Both of them died without ever seeing a dragon orb. I feared I might, too, but now finally, one has appeared, and I can establish our family’s place in the afterlife—”
“You mean you can’t get to the—er—afterlife until you complete the Life Quest?” Tas asked. “But your grandfather and your father—”
“Probably most uncomfortable,” Gnosh said, looking sad, “wherever they are—My goodness!”
A remarkable change had come over the dragon orb. It began to swirl and shimmer with many different colors—as if in agitation.
Muttering strange words, Fizban walked to the orb and set his hand upon it. Instantly, it went black. Fizban cast a glance around the room, his expression so severe and frightening that even Tas fell back before him. The knight sprang forward.
“Get out!” the mage thundered. “All of you!”
“I was ordered not to leave and I’m not—” The knight reached for his sword, but Fizban whispered a few words. The knight slumped to the floor.
The gnomes vanished from the room instantly, leaving only Gnosh, wringing his hands, his face twisted in agony.
“Come on, Gnosh!” Tas urged. “I’ve never seen him like this. We better do as he says. If we don’t, he’s liable to turn us into gully dwarves or something icky like that!”
Whimpering, Gnosh allowed Tas to lead him out of the room. As he stared back at the dragon orb, the door slammed shut.
“My Life Quest …” the gnome moaned.
“I’m sure it will be all right,” Tas said, although he wasn’t sure, not in the least. He hadn’t liked the look on Fizban’s face. In fact, it hadn’t even seemed to be Fizban’s face at all—or anyone Tas wanted to know!
Tas felt chilled and there was a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. The gnomes muttered among themselves and cast baleful glances at him. Tas swallowed, trying to get a bitter taste out of his mouth. Then he drew Gnosh to one side.
“Gnosh, did you discover anything about the orb when you studied it?” Tas asked in a low voice.
“Well,” Gnosh appeared thoughtful, “I did find out that there’s something inside of it, or seems to be, because I’d stare at it and stare at it without seeing anything for the longest time then, right when I was ready to quit, I’d see words swirling about in the mist—”
“Words?” Tas interrupted eagerly. “What did they say?”
Gnosh shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said solemnly, “because I couldn’t read them; no one could, not even a member of the Foreign Language Guild—”
“Magic, probably,” Tas muttered to himself.
“Yes,” Gnosh said miserably, “that’s what I decided—”
The door blew open, as if something had exploded.
Gnosh whirled around, terrified. Fizban stood in the doorway, holding a small black bag in one hand, his staff and Tasslehoff’s hoopak in the other. Gnosh sprang past him.
“The orb!” he screeched, so upset he actually completed a sentence. “You’ve got it!”
“Yes, Gnosh,” said Fizban.
The mage’s voice sounded tired, and Tas, looking at him closely, saw that he was on the verge of exhaustion. His skin was gray, his eyelids drooped. He leaned heavily on his staff. “Come with me, my boy,” he said to the gnome. “And do not worry. Your Life Quest will be fulfilled. But now the orb must be taken before the Council of Whitestone.”
“Come with you,” Gnosh repeated in astonishment, “to the Council”—he clasped his hands together in excitement—“where perhaps I’ll be asked to make a report, do you think—”
“I wouldn’t doubt it in the least,” Fizban answered.
“Right away, just give me time to pack, where’s my papers—”
Gnosh dashed off. Fizban whipped around to face the other gnomes who had been sneaking up behind him, reaching out eagerly for his staff. He scowled so alarmingly that they stumbled backward and vanished into the Examination Room.
“What did