Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [39]
“Shirak,” whispered Raistlin, and the Staff flared into light. Sitting up, he glanced around. Yes, he was right. They were in the cellar of the Inn. Broken bottles of wine spilled their contents onto the floor. Casks of ale were split in two. It wasn’t all water he had been lying in.
The mage flashed the light around the floor. There were Tanis, Riverwind, Goldmoon, and Tika, all huddled near Caramon. They seemed all right, he thought, giving them a quick inspection. Around them lay scattered debris. Half of the beam slanted down through the rubble to rest on the stone floor. Raistlin smiled. A nice bit of work, that spell. Once more they were in his debt.
If we don’t perish from the cold, he reminded himself bitterly. His body was shaking so he could barely hold the staff. He began to cough. This would be the death of him. They had to get out.
“Tanis,” he called, reaching out to shake the half-elf.
Tanis lay crumpled at the very edge of Raistlin’s magic, protective circle. He murmured and stirred. Raistlin shook him again. The half-elf cried out, reflexively covering his head with his arm.
“Tanis, you’re safe,” Raistlin whispered, coughing. “Wake up.”
“What?” Tanis sat bolt upright, staring around him. “Where—” Then he remembered. “Laurana?”
“Gone.” Raistlin shrugged. “You threw her out of danger—”
“Yes …” Tanis said, sinking back down. “And I heard you say words, magic—”
“That’s why we’re not crushed.” Raistlin clutched his sopping wet robes around him, shivering, and drew nearer Tanis, who was staring around as if he’d fallen onto a moon.
“Where in the name of the Abyss—”
“We’re in the cellar of the Inn,” the mage said. “The floor gave way and dropped us down here.” Tanis looked up. “By all the gods,” he whispered in awe.
“Yes,” Raistlin said, his gaze following Tanis’s. “We’re buried alive.”
Beneath the ruins of the Red Dragon Inn, the companions took stock of their situation. It did not look hopeful. Goldmoon treated their injuries, which were not serious, thanks to Raistlin’s spell. But they had no idea how long they had been unconscious or what was happening above them. Worse still, they had no idea how they could escape.
Caramon tried cautiously to move some of the rocks above their heads, but the whole structure creaked and groaned. Raistlin reminded him sharply that he had no energy to cast more spells, and Tanis wearily told the big man to forget it. They sat in the water that was growing deeper all the time.
As Riverwind stated, it seemed to be a matter of what killed them first: lack of air, freezing to death, the Inn falling down on top of them, or drowning.
“We could shout for help,” suggested Tika, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Add draconians to the list, then,” Raistlin snapped. “They’re the only creatures up there liable to hear you.”
Tika’s face flushed, and she brushed her hand quickly across her eyes. Caramon cast a reproachful glance at his brother, then put his arm around Tika and held her close. Raistlin gave them both a look of disgust.
“I haven’t heard a sound up there,” Tanis said, puzzled. “You’d think the dragons and the armies—” He stopped, his glance meeting Caramon’s, both soldiers nodding slowly in sudden grim understanding.
“What?” asked Goldmoon, looking at them.
“We’re behind enemy lines,” Caramon said. “The armies of draconians occupy the town. And probably the land for miles and miles around. There’s no way out, and nowhere to go if there were a way out.”
As if to emphasize his words, the companions heard sounds above them. Guttural draconian voices that they had come to know all too well drifted down through to them.
“I tell you, this is a waste of time,” whined another voice, goblin by the sound, speaking in Common. “There’s no one alive in this