“You said since the end of the Chaos War. Where did the souls go before that?”
“The blessed souls went to other realms beyond. Cursed souls were doomed to remain here, until they learned the lessons they were meant to learn in life. Then they, too, left for the next stage. The old gods encouraged the souls to leave. The old gods gave the souls no choice. The old gods ignored the fact that the souls did not want to depart. They longed to remain within the world and do what they could to assist the living. The One God saw this and granted the souls the gift that they could remain in the world and serve the One God. So they do, Galdar. And so they will.”
Mina looked at him with her amber eyes. “You would not want to leave, would you, Galdar?”
“I would not want to leave you, Mina,” he replied. “That is what I fear most about dying. That I would have to leave you.”
“You never will, Galdar,” Mina said to him, her voice gentle. The amber warmed. Her hand touched his arm, and her touch was as warm as the amber. “I promise you that. You never will.”
Galdar was uneasy. He hesitated to say the next, for fear she would be displeased, but he was her second-in-command, and he was responsible not only to her but to those under his command.
“How long are we going to stay here, Mina? The men don’t like it in this forest. I can’t say that I blame them. The living have no place here. We’re not wanted.”
“Not long,” she said. “I must pay a visit to someone who lives within this forest. Yes, he lives,” she emphasized the word. “A wizard by the name of Dalamar. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
Galdar shook his head. He had as little to do with wizards as possible and took no interest in them or their business.
“After that,” Mina continued, “I must leave for a brief time—”
“Leave?” Galdar repeated, involuntarily raising his voice.
“Leave?” Captain Samuval came hurrying over. “What is this? Who is leaving?”
“Mina,” said Galdar, his throat constricting.
“Mina the only reason the troops stay is because of you,” said Samuval.
“If you go—”
“I will not be gone long,” said Mina, frowning.
“Long or short, Mina, I’m not sure we can control the men,” said Captain Samuval. He kept jerking his head about, constantly looking over his shoulder. “And I don’t blame them. This land is cursed. Ghosts crawl all over it. I can feel them crawling all over me!”
He shivered and rubbed his arms and glanced fearfully about. “You can’t see them except out of the corner of your eye. And when you look at them, they’re gone. It’s enough to drive a man stark, staring mad.”
“I will speak to the men, Captain Samuval,” Mina replied. “You and Galdar must speak to them, as well, and you must show them by example that you are not afraid.”
“Even though we are,” the minotaur growled.
“The dead will not harm you. They have been ordered to congregate here for one purpose and one purpose alone. The One God commands them. They serve the One God, and through the intercession of the One God, they serve me.”
“What is this purpose, Mina? You keep saying that, but you tell us nothing.”
“All will be revealed. You must be patient and have faith,” Mina said. The amber eyes cooled and hardened.
Galdar and Samuval exchanged glances. Samuval held still, no longer jerked his head about or rubbed his arms, afraid of offending Mina.
“How long will you be gone?” Galdar asked.
“You will come with me to the wizard’s Tower. Then I travel north, to speak to the dragon who rules Palanthas, the dragon known as Khellendros or, as I prefer to call him, Skie.”
“Skie? He’s not even around anymore. All know that he departed on some strange quest.”
“The dragon is there,” Mina said. “He waits for me, though he does not know it.”
“Waits to attack you, maybe,” said Samuval with a snort. “He’s not like one of our blue dragons, Mina. This Skie is a butcher. He devours his own kind to gain power, just like Malystryx.”
“You should not go alone, Mina,” Galdar urged tersely. “Take some of us with you.”
“The Hand of the One God brought down Cyan Bloodbane, Mina said sternly. “The Hand of the One God will bring down Skie, if he thwarts the God’s commands. Skie will obey. He has no choice. He cannot help himself.
“You will obey me, too, Galdar, Captain Samuval,” Mina added. “As will the men.” Her tone and her look softened. “You have no need to fear. The One God rewards obedience. You will be safe in the forest of the dead. They guard you. They have no thought of harming you. Resume the march, Galdar. We must make haste. Events in the world move swiftly, and we are called.”
“We are called,” muttered Galdar, after Mina had departed traveling deeper into the forest. “We are always called, it seems.”
“Called to victory,” observed Captain Samuval. “Called to glory. I don’t mind that. Do you?”
“No, not that part,” Galdar admitted.
“Then what’s wrong—besides this place frightens the pudding out of us.” Samuval glanced around the shadowed forest with a shudder.
“I guess I’d like to think I had some say in the matter,” Galdar muttered. “Some choice.”
“In the military?” Samuval chortled. “Your mama must have dropped you on your head when you were a calf if you think that!”
He looked down the path. Mina had passed beyond his sight. “Come on,” he said uneasily. “Let’s keep moving. The sooner we’re out of this place, the better.”
Galdar pondered this. Samuval was right, of course. In the military one obeyed orders. A soldier didn’t get to vote on whether or not he’d like to storm a city, whether or not he’d like to face a barrage of arrows or have a cauldron of hot boiling oil poured on his head. A soldier did what he was told to do without question. Galdar knew that, and he accepted that. Why was this any different?
Galdar didn’t know. Couldn’t answer.
21
An Unexpected Visitor
Palin looked up from the book he had been studying and rubbed his watery eyes and the back of his neck. His vision, once so clear and keen, had deteriorated with age. He could still see well at a distance, but he was forced to read through spectacles that magnified the text or—in their absence— (he was forever misplacing them)—he had to read with his head bent close to the page. Slamming shut the book in frustration, he shoved it across the stone table, there to reside with the other books that had been of no help.
Palin glanced with little hope at the other books he had found upon the shelves and had yet to read. He had chosen these simply because he recognized his uncle’s handwriting on the covers and because they pertained to magical artifacts. He had no reason to suppose they referred specifically to the Device of Time Journeying.
To be truthful, he found them depressing. Their references to magic and the gods of magic filled him with memories, longings, desires. This room where he sat—his uncle’s laboratory—was the same, depressing. He thought back to his conversation with Dalamar yesterday, the day the kender had been discovered missing, the day Palin had insisted on entering his uncle’s old laboratory, searching through Raistlin’s books on magic in hopes of finding useful information on the Device of Time Journeying.
“I know that the Wizards’ Council ordered Raistlin’s laboratory shut,”
Palin said as they wended their way up the treacherous stairs that spiraled around the dark heart of the Tower of High Sorcery—a misnomer now, if ever there was one. “But they are gone, as the magic is gone. I doubt they’ll come looking for us.”