Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [37]
The companions watched in stunned fascination, paralyzed by the sight of the gigantic ceiling beams shuddering beneath the strain as the roof caved in onto the upper floors.
“Get out!” Tanis shouted. “The whole place is—”
The beam directly above the half-elf gave a great groan, then split and cracked. Gripping Laurana around the waist, Tanis flung her as far from him as he could and saw Elistan, standing near the front of the Inn, catch her in his arms.
As the huge beam above Tanis gave way with a shuddering snap, he heard the mage shriek strange words. Then he was falling, falling into blackness—and it seemed that the world fell on top of him.
Sturm rounded a corner to see the Inn of the Red Dragon collapse in a cloud of flame and smoke as a dragon soared in the sky above it. The knight’s heart beat wildly with grief and fear.
He ducked into a doorway, hiding in the shadows as some draconians passed him—laughing and talking in their cold, guttural language. Apparently they assumed this job was finished and were seeking other amusement. Three others, he noticed—dressed in blue uniforms, not red—appeared extremely upset at the Inn’s destruction, shaking their fist at the red dragon overhead.
Sturm felt the weakness of despair sweep over him. He sagged against the door, watching the draconians dully, wondering what to do next. Were they all still in there? Perhaps they had escaped. Then his heart gave a painful bound. He saw a flash of white.
“Elistan!” he cried, watching the cleric emerge from the rubble, dragging someone with him. The draconians, swords drawn, ran toward the cleric, calling out in Common for him to surrender. Sturm yelled the challenge of a Solamnic knight to an enemy and ran out from his doorway. The draconians whirled about, considerably disconcerted to see the knight.
Sturm became dimly aware that another figure was running with him. Glancing to his side, he saw the flash of firelight off a metal helm and heard the dwarf roaring. Then, from a doorway, he heard words of magic.
Gilthanas, unable to stand without help, had crawled out and was pointing at the draconians, reciting his spell. Flaming darts leaped from his hands. One of the creatures fell over, clutching its burning chest. Flint leaped on another, beating it over the head with a rock, while Sturm felled the other draconian with a blow from his fists. Sturm caught Elistan in his arms as the man staggered forward. The cleric was carrying a woman.
“Laurana!” Gilthanas cried from the doorway.
Dazed and sick from the smoke, the elfmaid lifted her glazed eyes. “Gilthanas?” she murmured. Then, looking up, she saw the knight.
“Sturm,” she said confusedly, pointing behind her vaguely. “Your sword, it’s here. I saw it—”
Sure enough, Sturm saw a flash of silver, barely visible beneath the rubble. His sword, and next to it was Tanis’s sword, the elven blade of Kith-Kanan. Moving aside piles of stone, Sturm reverently lifted the swords that lay like artifacts within a hideous, gigantic cairn. The knight listened for movement, calls, cries. There was only a dreadful silence.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said slowly, without moving. He looked at Elistan, who was staring back at the wreckage, his face deathly pale. “The others?”
“They were all in there,” Elistan said in a trembling voice. “And the half-elf …”
“Tanis?”
“Yes. He came through the back door, just before the dragon hit the Inn. They were all together, in the very center. I was standing beneath a doorway. Tanis saw the beam breaking. He threw Laurana. I caught her, then the ceiling collapsed on top of them. There’s no way they could have—”
“I don’t believe it!” Flint said fiercely, leaping into the rubble. Sturm grasped hold of him, yanked him back.
“Where’s Tas?” the knight asked the dwarf sternly.
The dwarf’s face fell. “Pinned under a beam,” he said, his face gray with grief and sorrow. He clutched at his hair wildly, knocking off his helm. “I’ve got to go