“Conundrum,” said Tasslehoff in a voice that didn’t sound to him like his own voice but belonged to some altogether different person, a person who was well and truly scared. “We have to get out of here. Now!”
He backed precipitously away from the window.
“There, it’s finished,” said Conundrum, proudly displaying the device.
“Are you sure it will work?” Tas asked anxiously. He could hear footsteps on the stairs, or at least he thought he could.
“Or course,” Conundrum stated, scowling. “Good as new. By the way, what did it do when it was new?”
Tas’s heart, which had leaped quite hopefully at the first part of the gnome’s statement, now sank. “How do you know it works if you don’t know what it does?”
Tas demanded. He could quite definitely hear footsteps. “Never mind. Just give it to me. Quickly!”
Palin had wizard-locked the door, but Palin was . . . wasn’t here anymore. Tas guessed that the wizard-lock wasn’t here either. He could hear footsteps and harsh breathing. He pictured the large and heavy minotaur, tromping up all those stairs.
“I thought at first it might be a potato peeler,” Conundrum was saying. He gave the device a shake that made the chain rattle. “But it’s a bit small, and there’s no hydraulic lift. Then I thought—”
“It’s a device that sends you traveling through time. That’s what I’m going to do with it, Conundrum,” Tasslehoff said. “Journey back through time. I’d take you with me, but I don’t think you’d much like where I’m going, which is back to the Chaos War to be stepped on by a giant. You see, it’s my fault that everyone I love is dead, and if I go back, they won’t be dead. I’ll be dead, but that doesn’t matter because I’m already dead—”
“Cheese grater,” said Conundrum, regarding the device thoughtfully. “Or it could be, with a few modifications, a meat grinder, maybe, and a—”
“Never mind,” said Tasslehoff, and he drew in a deep breath to give himself courage. “Just hand me the device. Thank you for fixing it. I hate to leave you here in the Tower of High Sorcery with an angry minotaur and the Dark Knights, but once I’m stepped on, they might not be here anymore. Would you please hand me the device?”
The footsteps had stopped, but not the harsh breathing. The stairs were steep and treacherous. The minotaur had been forced to halt his climb to catch his breath.
“Combination fishing rod and shoe tree?” guessed the gnome.
The minotaur’s footsteps started again.
Tas gave up. One could be polite for only so long. Especially to a gnome. Tas made a grab for the device. “Give it to me!”
“You’re not going to break it again?” Conundrum asked, holding it just out of the kender’s reach.
“I’m not going to break it!” Tasslehoff said firmly. With a another lunge, he succeeded in nabbing the device and wrenched it out of the gnome’s hand. “If you’ll watch closely, I’ll show you how it works. I hope,” he muttered to himself.
Holding the device, Tas said a little prayer in his heart. “I know you can’t hear me, Fizban ... Or maybe you can but you’re so disappointed in me that you don’t want to hear me. I’m truly sorry. Truly, truly sorry.” Tears crept into his eyes. “I never meant to cause all this trouble. I only wanted to speak at Caramon’s funeral, to tell everyone what a good friend he was to me. I never meant for this to happen. Never! So, if you’ll help me just once to go back to die, I’ll stay dead. I promise.”
“It’s not doing anything,” Conundrum grumbled. “Are you sure it’s plugged in?” Hearing the footsteps growing louder and louder, Tas held the device over his head.
“Words to the spell. I have to say the words to the spell. I know the words,” the kender said, gulping. “It goes ... It goes ... Thy time is thine ... Around it you journey ... No, that can’t be right. Travel. Around it you travel. . . and something, something expanses . . .” The footsteps were so close now that he could feel the floor shake.
Sweat beaded on the kender’s forehead. He gulped again and looked at the device, as if it might help him. When it didn’t, he shook it.
“Now I see how it got broken in the first place,” said Conundrum severely. “Is this going to take long? I think hear someone coming.”
“Grasp firmly the beginning and you’ll end up at the end. No, that’s wrong,” Tas said miserably.
“All of it’s wrong. I can’t remember the words! What’s the matter with me? I used to know it by heart. I could recite it standing on my head. I know because Fizban made me do it.” There came a thundering crash on the door, as of a heavy minotaur shoulder bashing into it. Tas shut his eyes, so that he wouldn’t hear what was going on outside the door. “Fizban made me say the spell standing on my head backwards. It was a bright, sunny day. We were in a green meadow, and the sky was blue with these little puffy white clouds, and the birds were singing, and so was Fizban until I asked him politely not to....”
Another resounding crash and a sound of wood splintering.
The words flooded Tasslehoff’s being, as warm and bright as the sunshine on that spring day. He didn’t know where they came from, and he didn’t stick around to ask.
The device began to glow brightly, jewels gleaming.
The last sensation Tas felt was that of a hand clutching his. The last sound Tas heard was Conundrum’s voice, crying out in panic, “Wait! There’s a screw loose—” And then all sound and sensation was lost in the wonderful and exciting rushing-wind noise of the magic.
3
Punishment for Failure
“The kender is gone, Mina,” Galdar reported, emerging from the Tower.
“Gone?” Mina turned away from the amber coffin that held the body of Goldmoon to stare at the minotaur. “What do you mean? That’s impossible? How could he escape—” Mina gave a cry of anguish. Doubling over in wrenching pain, she sank to her knees, her arms clasped around her, her nails digging into her bare flesh in transports of agony.
“Mina!” Galdar cried in alarm. He hovered over her, helpless, baffled. “What has happened? Are you wounded? Tell me!”
Mina moaned and writhed upon the ground, unable to answer.
Galdar glared around at her Knights. “You were supposed to be guarding her! What enemy has done this?”
“I swear, Galdar!” cried one. “No one came near her—” Mina,” said Galdar, bending over her, “tell me where you are hurt!
Shuddering, in answer, she placed her hand on the black hauberk she wore, placed her hand over her heart.
“My fault!” she gasped through lips that bled. She had bitten down on them in her torment. “My fault. This... my punishment.”
Mina remained on her knees, her head bowed, her hands clenched. Rivulets of sweat ran down her face. She shivered with fevered chills. “Forgive me!” she gasped, the words were flecked with blood. “I failed you. I forgot my duty. It will not happen again, I swear on my soul!” The spasms of wracking pain ceased. Mina sighed, shuddering. Her body relaxed. She drew in deep breaths and rose, unsteadily, to her feet.