Tanis glared at the mage, hating him for his cold, unfeeling logic, and for being right. The half-elf stood up, yanking Laurana to her feet. He came very close to hating her, too, without quite understanding why, knowing simply that she was making a difficult task much harder.
"You are on your own," he told her quietly, as the rest stood up and gathered their things. "I can't hang around, protecting you. Neither can Gilthanas. You have behaved like a spoiled brat. I told you once before-you better grow up. Now, if you don't, you're going to die and probably get all the rest of us killed right along with you!"
"I'm sorry, Tanthalas," Laurana said, avoiding his angry gaze. "But I couldn't lose you, not again. I love you." Her lips tightened and she said softly, "I'll make you proud of me."
Tanis turned and walked away. Catching sight of Caramon's grinning face and hearing Tika giggle, he flushed. Ignoring them, he approached Sturm and Gilthanas. "It seems we must take the right-hand corridor after all, whether or not Raistlin's feelings about evil are correct." He buckled on his new sword belt and scabbard, noticing, as he did so, Raistlin's eyes lingering on the weapon.
"What is it now?" he asked irritably.
"The sword is enchanted," Raistlin said softly, coughing. "How did you get it?"
Tanis started. He stared at the blade, moving his hand as though it might turn into a snake. He frowned, trying to remember. "I was near the body of the elven king, searching for something to throw at the slug, when, suddenly, the sword was in my hand. It had been taken out of the sheath and-" Tanis paused, swallowing,
"Yes?" Raistlin pursued, his eyes glittering eagerly.
"He gave it to me," Tanis said softly. "I remember, his hand touched mine. He pulled it from its sheath."
"Who?" asked Gilthanas. "None of us were near there."
"Kith-Kanan…"
10
The Royal Guard. The Chain Room
Perhaps it was just imagination, but the darkness seemed thicker as they walked down the other tunnel and the air grew colder. No one needed the dwarf to tell them that this was not normal in a cave, where the temperature supposedly stayed constant. They reached a branch in the tunnel, but no one felt inclined to go left, which might lead them back to the Hall of the Ancients-and the wounded slug.
"The elf almost got us killed by the slug," Eben said accusingly. "I wonder what's in store for us down here?"
No one answered. By now, everyone was experiencing the sense of growing evil Raistlin had warned of. Their footsteps slowed, and it was only through force of group will that they continued on. Laurana felt fear convulse her limbs and she clung to the wall for support. She longed for Tanis to comfort her and protect her, as he had done when they were younger and facing imaginary foes, but he walked at the head of the line with her brother. Each had his own fear to contend with. At that moment, Laurana decided that she would die before she asked for their help. It occurred to her, then, that she was really serious when she said she wanted to make Tanis proud of her. Shoving herself away from the side of the crumbling tunnel, she gritted her teeth and moved forward.
The tunnel came to an abrupt end. Crumbled stone and rubble lay beneath a hole in the rock wall. The sense of malevolent evil flowing from the darkness beyond the hole could almost be felt, wafting across the flesh like the touch of unseen fingers. The companions stopped, none of them-not even the nerveless kender-daring to enter.
"It's not that I'm afraid," Tas confided in a whisper to Flint. "It's just that I'd rather be somewhere else."
The silence became oppressive. Each could hear his own heart beat and the breathing of the others. The light jittered and wavered in the mage's shaking hand.
"Well, we can't stay here forever," Eben said hoarsely. "Let the elf go in. He's the one who brought us here!"
"I'll go," Gilthanas answered. "But I'll need light."
"None may touch the staff but I," Raistlin hissed. He paused, then added reluctantly, "I'll go with you."
"Raist-" Caramon began, but his brother stared at him coldly. "I'll go, too," the big man muttered.
"No," Tanis said. "You stay here and guard the others. Gilthanas, Raistlin, and I will go."
Gilthanas entered the hole in the wall, followed by the mage and Tanis, the half-elf assisting Raistlin. The light revealed a narrow chamber, vanishing into darkness beyond the staff's reach. On either side were rows of large stone doors, each held in place by huge iron hinges, spiked directly into the rock wall. Raistlin held the staff high, shining it down the shadowy chamber. Each knew that the evil was centered here.
"There's carving on the doors," Tanis murmured. The staff's light threw the stone figures into high relief.
Gilthanas stared at it. "The Royal Crest!" he said in a strangled voice.
"What does that mean?" Tanis asked, feeling the elf's fear infect him like a plague.
"These are the crypts of the Royal Guard," Gilthanas whispered. "They are pledged to continue their duties, even in death, and guard the king-so the legends speak."
"And so the legends come to life!" Raistlin breathed, gripping Tanis's arm. Tanis heard the sound of huge stone blocks shifting, of rusting iron hinges creaking. Turning his head, he saw each of the stone doors begin to swing wide! The hallway filled with a cold so severe that Tanis felt his fingers go numb. Things moved behind the stone doors.
"The Royal Guard! They made the tracks!" Raistlin whispered frantically. "Human and not human. There is no escape!" he said, grasping Tanis tighter. "Unlike the spectres of Darken Wood, these have but one thought-to destroy all who commit the sacrilege of disturbing the king's rest!"
"We've got to try!" Tanis said, unclenching the mage's biting fingers from his arm. He stumbled backwards and reached the entryway, only to find it blocked by two figures.
"Get back!" Tanis gasped. "Run! Who- Fizban? No, you crazy old man! We've got to run! The dead guards-"
"Oh, calm down," the old man muttered. "Young people. Alarmists." He turned around and helped someone else enter. It was Goldmoon, her hair gleaming in the light.
"It's all right, Tanis," she called softly. "Look!" She drew aside her cape: the medallion she wore glowed blue. "Fizban said they would let us pass, Tanis, if they saw the medallion. And when he said that-it began to glow!"
"No!" Tanis started to order her back, but Fizban tapped him on the chest with a long, bony finger.
"You're a good man, Tanis Half-Elven," the old mage said softly, "but you worry too much. Now just relax and let us send these poor souls back to their sleep. Bring the others along, will you?"
Tanis, too startled for words, fell back as Goldmoon and Fizban walked past, Riverwind following. As Tanis watched, they walked slowly between the rows of gaping stone doors. Behind each stone door, movement ceased as she passed. Even at that distance, he could feel the sense of malevolent evil slip away.
As the others came to the crumbling entryway and he helped them through, he answered their whispered questions with a shrug. Laurana didn't say a word to him as she entered; her hand was cold to the touch and he could see, to his astonishment, blood on her lip. Knowing she must have bitten it to keep from screaming, Tanis, remorseful, started to say something to her. But the elfmaid held her head high and refused to look at him.
The others ran after Goldmoon hurriedly, but Tasslehoff, pausing to peek into one of the crypts, saw a tall figure dressed in resplendent armor lying on a stone bier. Skeletal hands grasped the hilt of a longsword lying across the body. Tas looked up at the Royal Crest curiously, sounding out the words.