The companions turned and fled, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape through the bronze door. Caramon fell over his brother, knocking the staff from Raistlin's hand. The staff clattered on the floor, its light still glowing, for only dragonfire can destroy the magic crystal. But now its light flared out over the floor, plunging the rest of the room into darkness.
Seeing her prey escaping, the spirit flitted into the Chain Room, her grasping hand brushing Eben's cheek. He screamed at the chilling, burning touch and collapsed. Sturm caught him and dragged him through the door just as Raistlin grabbed his staff and he and Caramon lunged through.
"Is that everyone?" Tanis asked, reluctant to close the door. Then he heard a low, moaning sound, so frightful that he felt his heart stop beating for a moment. Fear seized him. He couldn't breathe. The cry ceased, and his heart gave a great, painful leap. The spirit sucked in its breath to scream again.
"No time to look!" Raistlin gasped. "Shut the door, brother!"
Caramon threw all his weight on the bronze door. It slammed shut with a boom that echoed through the hall.
"That won't stop her!" Eben cried, panic-stricken.
"No," said Raistlin softly. "Her magic is powerful, more powerful than mine. I can cast a spell on the door, but it will weaken me greatly. I suggest you run while you can. If it fails, perhaps I can stall her."
"Riverwind, take the others on ahead," Tanis orderd. "Sturm and I'll stay with Raistlin and Caramon."
The others crept down the dark corridor, looking back to watch in horrible fascination. Raistlin ignored them and handed the staff to his brother. The light from the glowing crystal flashed out at the unfamiliar touch.
The mage put his hands on the door, pressing both palms flat against it. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to forget everything except the magic. "Kalis-an budrunin-" His concentration broke as he felt a terrible chill.
The dark elf! She had recognized his spell and was trying to break him! Images of his battle with another dark elf in the Towers of High Sorcery came back to his mind. He struggled to blot out the evil memory of the battle that wrecked his body and came close to destroying his mind, but he felt himself losing control. He had forgotten the words! The door trembled. The elf was coming through!
Then from somewhere inside the mage came a strength he had discovered within himself only twice before-in the Tower and on the altar of the black dragon in Xak Tsaroth. The familiar voice that he could hear clearly in his mind yet never identify, spoke to him, repeating the words of the spell. Raistlin shouted them aloud in a strong, clear voice that was not his own. "Kalis-an budrunin kara-emarath!"
From the other side of the door came a wail of disappointment, failure. The door held. The mage collapsed.
Caramon handed the staff to Eben as he picked up his brother in his arms and followed the others as they groped their way along the dark passage. Another secret door opened easily to Flint's hand, leading to a series of short, debris-filled tunnels. Trembling with fear, the companions wearily made their way past these obstacles. Finally they emerged into a large, open room filled from ceiling to floor with stacks of wooden crates. Riverwind lit a torch on the wall. The crates were nailed shut. Some bore the label SOLACE, some GATEWAY.
"This is it. We're inside the fortress." Gilthanas said, grimly victorious. "We stand in the cellar of Pax Tharkas."
"Thank the true gods!" Tanis sighed and sank onto the floor, the others slumping down beside him. It was then they noticed that Fizban and Tasslehoff were missing.
11
Lost. The plan. Betrayed!
Tasslehoff could never afterwards clearly recall those last, few, panicked moments in the Chain Room. He remembered saying, "A dark elf? Where?" and standing on his tiptoes, trying desperately to see, when suddenly the glowing staff fell on the floor. He heard Tanis shouting, and-above that-a kind of a moaning sound that made the kender lose all sense of where he was or what he was doing. Then strong hands grabbed him around the waist, lifting him up into the air.
"Climb!" shouted a voice beneath him.
Tasslehoff stretched out his hands, felt the cool metal of the chain, and began to climb. He heard a door boom, far below, and the chilling wail of the dark elf again. It didn't sound deadly this time, more like a cry of rage and anger. Tas hoped this meant his friends had escaped.
"I wonder how I'll find them again," he asked himself softly, feeling discouraged for a moment. Then he heard Fizban muttering to himself and cheered up. He wasn't alone.
Thick, heavy darkness wrapped around the kender. Climbing by feel alone, he was growing extremely tired when he felt cool air brush his right cheek. He sensed, rather than saw, that he must be coming to the place where the chain and the mechanism linked up (Tas was rather proud of that pun). If only he could see! Then he remembered. He was, after all, with a magician.
"We could use a light," Tas called out.
"A fight? Where?" Fizban nearly lost his grip on the chain.
"Not fight! Light!" Tas said patiently, clinging to a link. "I think we're near the top of this thing and we really ought to have a look around."
"Oh, certainly. Let's see, light…" Tas heard the magician fumbling in his pouches. Apparently he found what he was searching for, because he soon gave a little crow of triumph, spoke a few words, and a small puffball of bluish-yellow flame appeared, hovering near the magician's hat.
The glowing puffball whizzed up, danced around Tasslehoff as if to inspect the kender, then returned to the proud magician. Tas was enchanted. He had all sorts of questions regarding the wonderful flaming puffball, but his arms were getting shaky and the old magician was nearly done in. He knew they better find some way to get off this chain.
Looking up, he saw that they were, as he had guessed, at the top part of the fortress. The chain ran up over a huge wooden cogwheel mounted on an iron axle anchored in solid stone. The links of the chain fit over teeth big as tree trunks, then the chain stretched out across the wide shaft, disappearing into a tunnel to the kender's right.
"We can climb onto that gear and crawl along the chain into the tunnel," the kender said, pointing. "Can you send the light up here?"
"Light-to the wheel," Fizban instructed.
The light wavered in the air for a moment, then danced back and forth in a decidedly nay-saying manner.
Fizban frowned. "Light-to the wheel!" he repeated firmly.
The puffball flame darted around to hide behind the magician's hat. Fizban, making a wild grab for it, nearly fell, and flung both arms around the chain. The puffball light danced in the air behind him as if enjoying the game.
"Uh, I guess we've got enough light, after all" Tas said.
"No discipline in the younger generation," Fizban grumbled. "His father-now there was a puffball…" The old magician's voice died away as he began to climb again, the puffball flame hovering near the tip of his battered hat.
Tas soon reached the first tooth on the wheel. Discovering the teeth were rough hewn and easy to climb, Tas crawled from one to another until he reached the top. Fizban, his robes hiked up around his thighs, followed with amazing agility.
"Could you ask the light to shine in the tunnel?" Tas asked.
"Light-to the tunnel," Fizban ordered, his bony legs wrapped around a link in the chain.
The puffball appeared to consider the command. Slowly it skittered to the edge of the tunnel, and then stopped.
"Inside the tunnel!" the magician commanded.
The puffball flame refused.
"I think it's afraid of the dark," Fizban said apologetically.