Tanis nodded doubtfully.
"Well, the gnomes figure that if night ever comes to Death, then a new day of Life will have to dawn for all of us who dwell here," Behobiphi said, and wrapped his sheet more tightly. "So they're trying to build a machine that will pull the sun out of the sky. They think they may have the problem licked in another three or four thousand years. Now, that, you have to admit, is every bit as plausible as Huma's portal, right?" He favored Tanis with a guileless glance.
Sadly, Tanis had to agree. He began to undress; on the other side of the divider, he could hear Brandella doing the same. A shoe clunked to the floor, and a low wail sounded through the thin curtain.
"My buckles!" Brandella mourned.
34
Dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his body, Tanis led the way out a rear door into the yard behind the minotaur's baths-and stopped short. "Back!" ordered Tanis. "Get back inside! Hurry!" Brandella, caught off-guard, tripped and fell on the slippery, tiled floor in the doorway. Tanis, his eyes glued on the terrifying sight in the yard and feeling a fear beyond his understanding, didn't look where he was going. He stumbled over her feet and crashed, arms flailing, on top of her. "Dragon!" he shouted. "Don't be frightened," boomed a loud, deep, but not unfriendly voice. "I see Behobiphi didn't warn you; he sometimes forgets."
Tanis rolled off Brandella, and the two sat up in the doorway and stared. An old silver dragon sat quietly in the shade of a grove of trees, a thin line of smoke trailing from its nostrils.
"I am Softfire," said the dragon with what may have been the dragon equivalent of a smile. 'The heat of my fire breath will help dry you. Please step forward. I won't burn you."
The dragonfear faded. Tanis stood and tried to hold himself with some dignity-difficult when clad only in a towel. "Stay here," he whispered to Brandella.
"If he wanted to kill us, he could have done it already," she argued. "I'm coming with you."
That made some grudging sense to Tanis, so he didn't protest. They stepped forward into the chilly yard.
'That's a good spot," said Softfire. "Stand there." The dragon breathed a clear blue flame that shot out near them. They both flinched but managed to keep from bolting. The air near them grew hot, but not unbearably so, and soon, with each breath of fire, the water that dripped from their bodies began to rapidly evaporate. Even their hair dried.
"The minotaur will bring you your clothes, all cleaned," said Softfire. "In the meantime, come and scratch under my chin. I like the way it feels."
Tanis hung back, but Brandella walked fearlessly up to the beast. "Were you this friendly when you were alive7" she asked, running her fingernails under the beast's jaw.
"Oooohhhh, that's good," sighed Softfire, lifting his chin higher. He licked his dragon lips with a forked tongue and chuckled deep in his throat. "No," he finally answered. "I was a terror when I was young and alive. You should have seen me during what you call the Second Dragon Wars. There was one battle-"
Behobiphi interrupted from the bathhouse doorway. "You're not going to tell them your old war stories, are you?" the minotaur asked.
"Why not?" Softfire asked indignantly condensation from the steamy bath surrounding him with a hazy silver aura. "My tales may be old to you, but they're new to them."
"That may be," Behobiphi said briskly, "but there are more customers waiting. Please be quick with your tale, as well as with all of your embellishments."
The dragon snorted, the heat from his fiery exhalation scorching a stone wall. Tanis realized how tame the beast was, and what it would be like if riled. He resolved not to rile it.
"Embellishments?" the dragon complained. "I ought to snuff out your entire establishment for that insult!"
Tanis got the impression that the minotaur and the dragon had had this conversation regularly during the past few centuries.
"Do what you will," sighed the minotaur. "Just do it' quickly." Behobiphi handed Tanis and Brandella their freshly cleaned clothes and went back into the house.
"We really would love to hear your stories," said Tanis, "but we happen to be in a hurry. We need to find out how to get back to the living world-and quickly."
'That seems to be a preoccupation of so many here," observed the dragon. "I wonder why?"
"We can't speak for the others, but we're not supposed to be here. We're still alive," said Brandella, scratching Softfire under his left ear.
"Aaahhhhh… Oooohhh. You do that well." The dragon stretched like a huge tabby.
Tanis joined in, scratching the dragon under his right ear.
"Eeehhhhh… Aahhhhhh. You're too wonderful for words. What nice creatures you are to do this for me. I almost hate to help you leave." He closed his eyes. 'Then there is a way?" Tanis asked excitedly. He and Brandella exchanged glances; the weaver kept rubbing the silver dragon, scratching his scaly neck in quick, deft strokes. The creature thumped the ground several times with a huge, taloned hind leg; several branches broke from trees and fell to the earth.
"I don't know," Softfire said. "But I do know this: The only way out of Death for you is with magic; it won't work on anyone else here." The creature opened eyes that were more knowing than sleepy. "I heard a story from a brass dragon friend about a strange new spell being offered among all the mages; it might be exactly what you need." Softfire's gaze flicked from Tanis to Brandella and back again. Then the deep voice continued. "According to my friend, a wizard who recently died had quite a collection of bizarre and unusual spells-" "Kishpa," breathed Brandella, squeezing Tanis's arm. The dragon's eyes drifted shut again, but his voice continued to reverberate. "All the wizards like to trade spells, bartering a fire spell for a darkness spell-that sort of thing. Of course," the dragon continued, twisting his neck so Brandella could reach an out-of-the-way spot, "there is little they can do with their magic here, but they enjoy the collecting; it adds to their status among their peers. Anyway, this new mage arrived and promptly gave away-didn't want anything in return- one of his spells to every mage he could find." "Where is this new wizard?" begged Brandella. "I wish I could tell you," said Softfire with a massive, scaly shrug, 'but he could be anywhere. Death is a large place that stretches beyond imagining. He would be impossible to find." Brandella sighed.
'This spell that he gave away, the one that you said might help us, do you know what it is7" Tanis asked.
'That's the peculiar part. It's a totally useless spell to the Dead in our world. The spell allows the Living to leave the Dead; it's the kind of spell-"
"-that Kishpa would have loved when he was alive," exulted Brandella. "It is exactly the kind of useless spell he collected, something that would be just as useless in the world of the Living as it is in the world of the Dead."
"Except to us," Tanis added.
"And he must have known that," she cried, tears joyfully running down her face.
"You keep on like that," warned Softfire, "and I'm going to have to dry you all over again."
Brandella kissed the dragon's heavily scaled cheek while happily crying out to Tanis, "Don't you see7"
"Yes," Tanis admitted, surprised by the jealousy he felt. Even after Kishpa's death, it seemed, the half-elf could not compete with the mage. "We must find someone who has the spell-and quickly, because we will grow weaker with no food or water. And it must be someone who will share it with us."