“Tas,” said Lillith, “there are some very dangerous people in the city who would give a great deal to find these magical glasses. If you think you might have left them back in the inn—”
“Ah! I know!” Tasslehoff smacked himself in the forehead. “I’m such a doorknob, as Flint is always telling me.” Tas reached his hand into one of the pockets in his bright colored trousers. He pulled out an assortment of objects—a prune pit, a petrified beetle, a bent spoon which he said was to be used for turning any undead he might be lucky enough to encounter, and finally, wrapped in a handkerchief embroidered with the name C. Majere, was a pair of spectacles made of clear glass with wire rim frames.
“They’re truly remarkable.” Tas regarded them with fond pride. “That’s why I’m so careful of them.”
“Uh, yes,” said Lillith, vastly relieved.
“Does your friend want them back?” Tas asked wistfully.
Lillith didn’t know how to answer. Evenstar had told Astinus, the Master of the Great Library, to seek out the kender and make certain Tas had the glasses in his possession. The dragon had said nothing about taking the glasses away from the kender, nor had he said anything about the kender using them to help the knights or anyone seeking knowledge.
As the follower of a neutral god, one who maintained the balance between the gods of Light and those of darkness, Lillith was not supposed to take sides in any war. Her assigned task was to guard the knowledge. If this was done, if the knowledge of the ages was preserved, then no matter whether good or evil prevailed, wisdom’s flame would continue to light the way for future generations.
The Kingpriest, though he had revered Paladine, God of Light, had feared knowledge. He feared that if people were permitted to learn about gods other than Paladine and the gods of Light, they would cease to worship those gods and turn to others. That was why Paladine and the other gods of Light had turned against him.
Now Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, was trying to conquer the world. She also feared knowledge, knowing that those who live in ignorance will not ask questions, but will slavishly do what they are told. Takhisis was trying to stamp out knowledge, and Gilean and his followers were determined to oppose her.
Where were the gods of Light in this battle? Had they returned with Gilean? Did Paladine and the other gods of Light have their champions, and if so, would they be like the Kingpriest? Would they want to destroy the books? If they did, Lillith would fight them as she would fight draconians or anyone else who threatened her library.
Perhaps this was the reason Evenstar had turned to Astinus for help and not to Paladine, assuming Paladine was around. Evenstar distrusted Takhisis and her minions, yet he was not certain he could trust the gods of Light.
Now Lillith was confronted with the kender, and although she considered herself open-minded and free from prejudice, she couldn’t help but think the dragon might have chosen a more responsible guardian for such a valuable artifact. She considered it a major miracle the kender had kept hold of the glasses all during the long journey from Thorbardin to Tarsis. It was not her place to judge, however, especially when she didn’t know all the facts. She had been told to find the kender and ascertain that he had the spectacles on him. She could report back that he did. Her job was done, but should she allow him to help the knights?
“No, Evenstar doesn’t want them back,” Lillith said to Tas. “You can keep them.”
“I can?” Tas was thrilled. “That’s wonderful! Thank you!”
“You can thank your friend the golden woolly mammoth,” said Lillith, smiling. She took out a small book and began to take notes. “Now, tell me what you see this time when you look through the lenses…”
In the back portion of the library, the knights had not resumed their search but were embroiled in an argument.
“You did what?” Derek demanded, scowling at Brian.
“I gave the kender my word of honor as a knight that I would help rescue Sturm and the others,” Brian repeated calmly.
“You had no right to make such a promise!” Derek returned angrily. “You know the importance of our mission to recover this dragon orb and take it back to Solamnia! You could put it all in peril—”
“I didn’t say anything about you assisting them, Derek,” Brian told him. “You and Aran can continue with your search for the dragon orb. Brightblade is a fellow Solamnic, and though I only knew him a short time, I consider him a friend. Even if I didn’t know him, I would do everything in my power to keep him and his companions from falling into the hands of the enemy. Besides,” he added stubbornly, “I have now given my word.”
“The Measure says it’s our duty to thwart and confound our foes,” Aran pointed out, tilting his flask to his mouth, then wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“Tell me how we confound our foes by rescuing a half-elf and a dwarf and a counterfeit knight?” Derek retorted, but Brian could see that his argument was having some effect. Derek was at least considering his proposal.
Brian went back to work, giving Derek time to think things through. Their studies were interrupted by Lillith, who came marching the kender along, her hand on his shoulder, giving his hand an occasional slap—in a friendly manner—when he tried to pluck a book off the shelves.
All three knights rose politely to their feet. “Yes, Mistress, how may we serve you?” Derek asked.
“It’s how I can serve you, or rather, how Tasslehoff can serve you.” Lillith reached for one of the books in the stack dealing with dragons. Opening the book to a page at random, she moved it near the lantern. “Tas, can you read this?”
Tasslehoff climbed onto a tall stool. He settled himself comfortably and peered at the page. He wrinkled his forehead. “You mean all those squiggly lines? No, sorry.”
Derek grunted. “I’d be surprised if he can read at all!”
Lillith said softly, “Tas, I meant for you to put on the special glasses when you read. What we talked about.”
“Oh, yeah! Right!” Tasslehoff reached his hand into his pocket and fumbled about.
“I think they’re in the other pocket,” Lillith whispered. “Mistress, we are wasting valuable time—” Tasslehoff dove into the correct pocket and came up, glasses in hand. He placed them on his small nose, pinched the nosepieces together to help them stay on, and looked down at the page.
“It says, ‘The red dragons are the largest of the chro… chrom… “—he stumbled over the word—“chromatic dragons and the most feared. Although they disdain humanoids, red dragons may occasionally ally themselves with those who have the same goals and ambitions, which include a lust for power. Red dragons revere Queen Takhisis—’”
“Let me see that!” Derek snatched the book away from Tasslehoff. He stared at it, then shoved it back. “He’s lying. I can’t read a word.”
“But he can,” said Lillith triumphantly, “with the magical Glasses of Arcanist.”
“How do you know he’s not making it up?” “Oh, come now, Derek,” said Aran, laughing, “would a kender or anyone else for that matter make up the word ‘chromatic’?”
Derek eyed Tas dubiously. He held out his hand. “Let me see those glasses.”
Tasslehoff glanced at Lillith. She nodded her head and Tas handed him the glasses, though with obvious reluctance.
“They’re mine,” he said pointedly, “given to me by a golden woolly mammoth.”
Derek attempted to put the glasses on his nose, but they were much too small. He peered at the book through the lenses, practically going cross-eyed to try to focus on the words. Lowering the glasses, he rubbed his eyes and regarded the kender with more respect.
“He’s telling the truth,” Derek admitted, sounding astonished beyond belief. “I can read the words with those glasses, though I have no idea how.”
“They’re magical,” said Tas proudly. He quickly plucked the glasses out of Derek’s hand. “They used to belong to some guy named Arachnid.”