10

The Royal Guard.

The Chain Room.

Perhaps it was just imagination, but the darkness seemed thicker as they walked down the other tunnel and the air grew colder. No one needed the dwarf to tell them that this was not normal in a cave, where the temperature supposedly stayed constant. They reached a branch in the tunnel, but no one felt inclined to go left, which might lead them back to the Hall of the Ancients-and the wounded slug.

"The elf almost got us killed by the slug," Eben said accusingly. "I wonder what's in store for us down here?"

No one answered. By now, everyone was experiencing the sense of growing evil Raistlin had warned of. Their footsteps slowed, and it was only through force of group will that they continued on. Laurana felt fear convulse her limbs and she clung to the wall for support. She longed for Tanis to comfort her and protect her, as he had done when they were younger and facing imaginary foes, but he walked at the head of the line with her brother. Each had his own fear to contend with. At that moment, Laurana decided that she would die before she asked for their help. It occurred to her, then, that she was really serious when she said she wanted to make Tanis proud of her. Shoving herself away from the side of the crumbling tunnel, she gritted her teeth and moved forward.

The tunnel came to an abrupt end. Crumbled stone and rubble lay beneath a hole in the rock wall. The sense of malevolent evil flowing from the darkness beyond the hole could almost be felt, wafting across the flesh like the touch of unseen fingers. The companions stopped, none of them-not even the nerveless kender-daring to enter.

"It's not that I'm afraid," Tas confided in a whisper to Flint. "It's just that I'd rather be somewhere else."

The silence became oppressive. Each could hear his own heart beat and the breathing of the others. The light jittered and wavered in the mage's shaking hand.

"Well, we can't stay here forever," Eben said hoarsely. "Let the elf go in. He's the one who brought us here!"

"I'll go," Gilthanas answered. "But I'll need light."

"None may touch the staff but I," Raistlin hissed. He paused, then added reluctantly, "I'll go with you."

"Raist-" Caramon began, but his brother stared at him coldly. "I'll go, too," the big man muttered.

"No," Tanis said. "You stay here and guard the others. Gilthanas, Raistlin, and I will go."

Gilthanas entered the hole in the wall, followed by the mage and Tanis, the half-elf assisting Raistlin. The light revealed a narrow chamber, vanishing into darkness beyond the staff's reach. On either side were rows of large stone doors, each held in place by huge iron hinges, spiked directly into the rock wall. Raistlin held the staff high, shining it down the shadowy chamber. Each knew that the evil was centered here.

"There's carving on the doors," Tanis murmured. The staff's light threw the stone figures into high relief.

Gilthanas stared at it. "The Royal Crest!" he said in a strangled voice.

"What does that mean?" Tanis asked, feeling the elf's fear infect him like a plague.

"These are the crypts of the Royal Guard," Gilthanas whispered. "They are pledged to continue their duties, even in death, and guard the king-so the legends speak."

"And so the legends come to life!" Raistlin breathed, gripping Tanis's arm. Tanis heard the sound of huge stone blocks shifting, of rusting iron hinges creaking. Turning his head, he saw each of the stone doors begin to swing wide! The hallway filled with a cold so severe that Tanis felt his fingers go numb. Things moved behind the stone doors.

"The Royal Guard! They made the tracks!" Raistlin whispered frantically. "Human and not human. There is no escape!" he said, grasping Tanis tighter. "Unlike the spectres of Darken Wood, these have but one thought-to destroy all who commit the sacrilege of disturbing the king's rest!"

"We've got to try!" Tanis said, unclenching the mage's biting fingers from his arm. He stumbled backwards and reached the entryway, only to find it blocked by two figures.

"Get back!" Tanis gasped. "Run! Who- Fizban? No, you crazy old man! We've got to run! The dead guards-"

"Oh, calm down," the old man muttered. "Young people. Alarmists." He turned around and helped someone else enter. It was Goldmoon, her hair gleaming in the light.

"It's all right, Tanis," she called softly. "Look!" She drew aside her cape: the medallion she wore glowed blue. "Fizban said they would let us pass, Tanis, if they saw the medallion. And when he said that-it began to glow!"

"No!" Tanis started to order her back, but Fizban tapped him on the chest with a long, bony finger.

"You're a good man, Tanis Half-Elven," the old mage said softly, "but you worry too much. Now just relax and let us send these poor souls back to their sleep. Bring the others along, will you?"

Tanis, too startled for words, fell back as Goldmoon and Fizban walked past, Riverwind following. As Tanis watched, they walked slowly between the rows of gaping stone doors. Behind each stone door, movement ceased as she passed. Even at that distance, he could feel the sense of malevolent evil slip away.

As the others came to the crumbling entryway and he helped them through, he answered their whispered questions with a shrug. Laurana didn't say a word to him as she entered; her hand was cold to the touch and he could see, to his astonishment, blood on her lip. Knowing she must have bitten it to keep from screaming, Tanis, remorseful, started to say something to her. But the elfmaid held her head high and refused to look at him.

The others ran after Goldmoon hurriedly, but Tasslehoff, pausing to peek into one of the crypts, saw a tall figure dressed in resplendent armor lying on a stone bier. Skeletal hands grasped the hilt of a longsword lying across the body. Tas looked up at the Royal Crest curiously, sounding out the words.

"Sothi Nuinqua Tsalarioth" said Tanis, coming up behind the kender.

"What does it mean?" Tas asked.

"Faithful beyond Death," Tanis said softly.

At the west end of the crypts, they found a set of bronze double doors. Goldmoon pushed it open easily and led them into a triangular passage that opened into a large hall. Inside this room, the only difficulty they faced was in trying to get the dwarf out of it. The hall was perfectly intact-the only room in the Sla-Mori they had encountered so far that had survived the Cataclysm without damage. And the reason for that, Flint explained to anyone who would listen, was the wonderful dwarven construction-particularly the twenty-three columns supporting the ceiling.

The only way out was two identical bronze doors at the far end of the chamber, leading west. Flint, tearing himself away from the columns, examined each and grumbled that he hadn't any idea what was behind them or where they led. After a brief discussion, Tanis decided to take the door to his right. The door opened onto a clean, narrow passageway that led them, after about thirty feet, to another single bronze door. This door, however, was locked. Caramon pushed, tugged, pried-all to no avail.

"It's no use," the big man grunted. "It won't budge."

Flint watched Caramon for several minutes, then finally stumped forward. Examining the door, he snorted and shook his head. "Jt's a false door!"

"Looks real to me!" Caramon said, staring at the door suspiciously. "It's even got hinges!"

"Of course, it does," Flint snorted. "We don't build false doors to look false-even a gully dwarf knows that."

"So we're at a dead end!" Eben said grimly.

"Stand back," Raistlin whispered, carefully leaning his staff against a wall. He placed both hands on the door, touching it only with the tips of his fingers, then said, "Khetsaram pakloil" There was a flare of orange light, but not from the door-it came from the wall!

"Move!" Raistlin grabbed his brother and jerked him back, just as the entire wall, bronze door and all, began to pivot.

"Quickly, before it shuts," Tanis said, and everyone hurried through the door, Caramon catching his brother as Raistlin staggered.

"Are you all right?" Caramon asked, as the wall slammed shut behind them.

"Yes, the weakness will pass," Raistlin whispered. "That is the first spell I have cast from the spellbook of Fistandantilus. The spell of opening worked, but I did not believe it would drain me like this."

The door led them into another passageway that ran straight west for about forty feet, took a sharp turn to the south, then east, then continued south again. Here the way was blocked by another single bronze door.

Raistlin shook his head. "I can only use the spell once. It is gone from my memory."

"A fireball would open the door," said Fizban. "I think I remember that spell now-"

"No, Old One," Tanis said hastily. "It would fry all of us in this narrow passage. Tas-"

Reaching the door, the kender pushed on it. "Drat, it's open," he said, disappointed not to have to pick a lock. He peered inside. "Just another room."

They entered cautiously, Raistlin illuminating the chamber with the staff's light. The room was perfectly round, about one hundred feet in diameter. Directly across from them, to the south, stood a bronze door and in the center of the room-

"A crooked column," Tas said, giggling. "Look, Flint. The dwarves built a crooked column!"

"If they did, they had a good reason," the dwarf snapped, shoving the kender aside to examine the tall, thin column. It definitely slanted.

"Hmmmm," said Flint, puzzled. Then- "It isn't a column at all, you doorknob!" Flint exploded. "It's a great, huge chain! Look, you can see here it's hooked to an iron bracket on the floor."

"Then we are in the Chain Room!" Gilthanas said in excitement. "This is the famed defense mechanism of Pax Tharkas. We must be almost in the fortress."

The companions gathered around, staring at the monstrous chain in wonder. Each link was as long as Caramon was tall and as thick around as the trunk of an oak.

"What does the mechanism do?" asked Tasslehoff, longing to climb up the great chain. "Where does this lead?"

"The chain leads to the mechanism itself," Gilthanas answered. "As to how it works, you must ask the dwarf for I am unfamiliar with engineering. But if this chain is released from its moorings"-he pointed to the iron bracket in the floor-"massive blocks of granite drop down behind the gates of the fortress. Then no force on Krynn can open them."

Leaving the kender to peer up into the shadowy darkness, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the wondrous mechanism, Gilthanas joined the others in searching the room.

"Look at this!" he finally cried, pointing to a faint door-shaped line in the stones on the north wall. "A secret door! This must be the entrance!"

"There's the catch." Tasslehoff, turning from the chain, pointed to a chipped piece of stone at the bottom. "The dwarves slipped up," he said, grinning at Flint. "This is a false door that looks false."

"And therefore not to be trusted," Flint said flatly.

"Bah, dwarves have bad days like everyone else," Eben said, bending down to try the catch.

"Don't open it!" Raistlin said suddenly.

"Why not?" asked Sturm. "Because you want to alert someone before we find the way into Pax Tharkas?"

"If I had wanted to betray you, knight, I could have done so a thousand times before this!" Raistlin hissed, staring at the secret door. "I sense a power behind that door greater than any I have felt since-" He stopped, shuddering.

"Since when?" his brother prompted gently.

"The Towers of High Sorcery!" Raistlin whispered. "I warn you, do not open that door!"

"See where the south door leads," Tanis told the dwarf.

Flint stumped over to the bronze door on the south wall and shoved it open. "Near as I can tell, it leads down another passage exactly like all the others," he reported glumly.

"The way to Pax Tharkas is through a secret door," Gilthanas repeated. Before anyone could stop him, he reached down and pulled out the chipped stone. The door shivered and began to swing silently inward.

"You will regret this!" Raistlin choked.

The door slid aside to reveal a large room, nearly filled with yellow, brick-like objects. Through a thick layer of dust, a faint yellowish color was visible.

"A treasure room!" Eben cried. "We've found the treasure of Kith-Kanan!"

"All in gold," Strum said coldly. "Worthless, these days, since steel's the only thing of any value. . . ." His voice trailed off, his eyes widened in horror.

"What is it?" shouted Caramon, drawing his sword.

"I don't know!" Sturm said, more as a gasp than words.

"I do!" Raistlin breathed as the thing took shape before his eyes. "It is the spirit of a dark elf! I warned you not to open that door."

"Do something!" Eben said, stumbling backwards.

"Put up your weapons, fools!" Raistlin said in a piercing whisper. "You cannot fight her! Her touch is death, and if she wails while we are within these walls, we are doomed. Her keening voice alone kills. Run, run all of you! Quickly! Through the south door!"

Even as they fell back, the darkness in the treasure room took shape, coalescing into the coldly beautiful, distorted features of a female drow-an evil elf of ages past, whose punishment for crimes unspeakable had been execution. Then the powerful elven magic-users chained her spirit, forcing her to guard forever the king's treasure. At the sight of these living beings, she streched out her hands, craving the warmth of flesh, and opened her mouth to scream out her grief and her hatred of all living things.

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.