Berem stared at Tanis warily. “You won’t give me up?”
“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Tanis stated coldly, avoiding the question. “At any rate, I’ll need a guide, someone who knows the area . . .”
Wrenching himself free of Caramon’s grip, Berem regarded them with a hunted expression. “I’ll go,” he whimpered. “Don’t give me to the elf . . .”
“All right,” Tanis said coldly. “Quit sniveling. I’ll be leaving before dark and I’ve got a lot to do—”
Turning abruptly, he was not surprised to feel a strong hand grip his arm. “I know what you’re going to say, Caramon.” Tanis did not turn around. “And the answer is no. Berem and I are going alone.”
“Then you’ll go to your deaths alone,” Caramon said quietly, holding onto Tanis firmly.
“If so, then that’s what I’ll do!” Tanis tried without success to break free of the big man. “I’m not taking any of you with me.”
“And you’ll fail,” Caramon said. “Is that what you want? Are you going just to find a way to die that will end your guilt? If so, I can offer you my sword right now. But if you truly want to free Laurana then you’re going to need help.”
“The gods have reunited us,” Goldmoon said gently. “They have brought us together again in our time of greatest need. It is a sign from the gods, Tanis. Don’t deny it.”
The half-elf bowed his head. He could not cry, there were no tears left. Tasslehoff’s small hand slipped into his.
“Besides,” said the kender cheerfully, “think how much trouble you’d get into without me!”
19
A single candle.
The city of Kalaman was deathly silent the night after the Dark Lady issued her ultimatum. Lord Calof declared a State of War, which meant all taverns were closed, the city gates were locked and barred, no one allowed to leave. The only people permitted to enter were families from the small farming and fishing villages near Kalaman. These refugees began arriving near sundown, telling fearful tales of draconians swarming over their land, looting and burning. Although some of the noblemen of Kalaman had been opposed to such a drastic measure as a declared State of War, Tanis and Gilthanas—united for once—had forced the Lord to make this decision. Both of them painted vivid and horrifying pictures of the burning of the city of Tarsis. These proved extremely convincing. Lord Calof made his declaration, but then stared at the two men helplessly. It was obvious he had no idea what to do in regard to the defense of the city. The horrifying shadow of the floating citadel hovering above had completely unnerved the lord, and most of his military leaders were in little better shape. After listening to some of their wilder ideas, Tanis rose to his feet.
“I have a suggestion, my lord,” he said respectfully. “You have a person here, well-qualified to take over the defense of this city—”
“You, Half-Elf?” interrupted Gilthanas with a bitter smile.
“No,” said Tanis gently. “You, Gilthanas.”
“An elf?” said Lord Calof in amazement.
“He was in Tarsis. He has had experience fighting the draconians and the dragons. The good dragons trust him and will follow his judgment.”
“That’s true!” Calof said. A look of vast relief crossed his face as he turned to Gilthanas. “We know how elves feel about humans, my lord, and—I must admit—most humans feel the same about elves. But we would be eternally grateful if you could help us in this time of peril.”
Gilthanas stared at Tanis, puzzled for a moment. He could read nothing in the half-elf’s bearded face. It was almost, he thought, the face of a dead man. Lord Calof repeated his question, adding something about “reward,” apparently thinking Gilthanas’s hesitation was due to a reluctance to accept the responsibility.
“No, my lord!” Gilthanas came out of his reverie with a start. “No reward is necessary or even wanted. If I can help save the people of this city, that will be reward enough. As for being of different races"—Gilthanas looked once more at Tanis—“perhaps I have learned enough to know that doesn’t make any difference. It never did.”
“Tell us what to do,” Calof said eagerly.
“First, I would like a word with Tanis,” Gilthanas said, seeing the half-elf preparing to depart.
“Certainly. There is a small room through the door to your right where you may talk in private.” The lord gestured.
Once inside the small, luxuriously appointed room, both men stood in uncomfortable silence for long moments, neither looking at the other directly. Gilthanas was the first to break the silence.
“I have always despised humans,” the elflord said slowly, “and now I find myself preparing to take on the responsibility of protecting them.” He smiled. “It is a good feeling,” he added softly, looking directly at Tanis for the first time.
Tanis’s eyes met Gilthanas’s and his grim face relaxed for a moment, though he did not return the elflord’s smile. Then his gaze fell, his grave expression returned.
“You’re going to Neraka, aren’t you?” Gilthanas said after another long pause.
Tanis nodded, wordlessly.
“Your friends? They’re going with you?”
“Some of them,” Tanis replied. “They all want to go, but—” He found he could not continue, remembering their devotion. He shook his head.
Gilthanas stared down at an ornately carved table, absently running his hand over the gleaming wood.
“I must leave,” Tanis said heavily, starting for the door. “I have a lot yet to do. We plan to leave at midnight, after Solinari’s set—”
“Wait.” Gilthanas put his hand on the half-elf’s arm. “I—I want to tell you I’m sorry. . . about what I said this morning. No, Tanis, don’t leave. Hear me out. This isn’t easy for me.” Gilthanas paused a moment. “I’ve learned a great deal, Tanis—about myself. The lessons have been hard ones. I forgot them... when I heard about Laurana. I was angry and frightened and I wanted to hit someone. You were the closest target. What Laurana did, she did out of love for you. I’m learning about love, too, Tanis. Or I’m trying to learn.” His voice was bitter. “Mostly I’m learning about pain. But that’s my problem.”
Tanis was watching him now. Gilthanas’s hand was still on his shoulder.
“I know now, after I’ve had time to think,” Gilthanas continued softly, “that what Laurana did was right. She had to go, or her love would have been meaningless. She had faith in you, believed in you enough to go to you when she heard you were dying, even though it meant going to that evil place—”
Tanis’s head bowed. Gilthanas gripped him tightly, both hands on his shoulders.
“Theros Ironfeld said once that—in all the years he had lived—he had never seen anything done out of love come to evil. We have to believe that, Tanis. What Laurana did, she did out of love. What you do now, you do out of love. Surely the gods will bless that.”
“Did they bless Sturm?” Tanis asked harshly. “He loved!”
“Didn’t they? How do you know?”
Tanis’s hand closed over Gilthanas’s. He shook his head. He wanted to believe. It sounded wonderful, beautiful... just like tales of dragons. As a child, he’d wanted to believe in dragons, too...
Sighing, he walked away from the elflord. His hand was on the doorknob when Gilthanas spoke again.
“Farewell... brother.”
The companions met by the wall, at the secret door Tasslehoff had found that led up and over the walls, out into the plains beyond. Gilthanas could, of course, have given them permission to leave by the front gates, but the fewer people who knew of this dark journey the better as far as Tanis was concerned.
Now they were gathered inside the small room at the top of the stairs. Solinari was just sinking behind the distant mountains. Tanis, standing apart from the others, watched the moon as its last silvery rays touched the battlements of the horrible citadel hovering above them. He could see lights in the floating castle. Dark shapes moved around. Who lived in that dreadful thing? Draconians? The black-robed mages and dark clerics whose power had torn it from the soil and now kept it drifting among masses of thick gray clouds?