Sturm clapped his hands to his ears and snorted. "Not an Uncle Trapspringer story!"

  Derek's head jerked around. "Hush!" he snarled. Suddenly his face contorted in surprise. "Whoa!" The tunnel had ended abruptly in a deep, dark chasm! One foot over the edge, Derek swung his arms wildly to keep from sliding over entirely.

  Instinctively, Laurana reached for his out-flung arm, and Sturm grabbed her. Together they pulled the struggling knight back from the edge. Wheezing and panting, he collapsed momentarily in aheap. Then, remembering himself, he struggled to his feet, brush ing off the helping hands.

  "Great! Now where do we go?" he demanded.

  Laurana frowned. "I don't see any reason-or way-to cross the chasm. There's nothing but an icy wall on the other side. I guess we'll have to retrace our steps and continue up the cliff face after all," she finished wearily.

  "Not necessarily!" sang out Tasslehoff, whom I must confess I'd forgotten. He was on his knees, tapping on the left wall with his knuckles. Suddenly he looked up at Elistan, reaching for the mace hanging from the cleric's belt. "May I borrow this?" he asked politely. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the mace and smashed it into the icy wall, sending glassy shards flying about the tunnel.

  "Tasslehoff, what on Krynn are you doing?" Laurana demanded, reaching out to prevent his next swing. She stopped abrubtly as the kender's blows revealed a hole into another area. Before she could say more, Tasslehoff hopped through the jagged opening.

  "Tas, wait!" she cried, hurrying after him.

  "Oh, no," Sturm muttered, as if this scene were nothing new to him. Hitching up his gear, he followed the golden-haired elf. The rest of us hastily followed.

  Stepping through the opening, I found the others in a vast room formed of rough-hewn stone blocks. In one corner was stacked a pile of dried peat, ready for burning. In another were huge wooden barrels in neat rows. Weapons and tools hung from racks on the walls. A dilapidated door swung from one hinge on the wall opposite me. We seemed to be in some sort of storeroom-but for whom? A shiver of apprehension raised the hair on my scalp.

  "I knew we were overlooking something!" Tasslehoff cried, scurrying about the room in excitement.

  Elistan strode up to the kender, his palm outstretched. "Yes, you were… My mace, please," he reminded Tas.

  "Oh, this?" Tas asked, pulling the mace from his pack, where he'd obviously placed it for safe-keeping. "Yes, well, I was talking about something else. Listen."

  The kender's voice hushed, the room became strangely, uncomfortably quiet. Tasslehoff crept slowly toward the center, cocking his head from side to side. As if frozen, we all stood watching him. "Do you hear it, Sturm?" he asked softly. "It sounds like… like clicking, or scratching. Raggart?"

  All eyes turned to me as if I should somehow know the source of the strange noise. I reached up to pull down my fur hood so that I could hear better, when Derek bellowed in sudden fury, his sword flashing from its sheath. Before any of us had time to comprehend what was happening, the room exploded into snarling, screaming chaos. Minotaurs, creatures with the bodies of men and the heads of bulls, and thanoi, another bizarre mix of human and walrus, burst through the doorway and fell on the two knights and the kender.

  Surprised, Sturm had barely time enough to draw his weapon from under his furs. Surging forward with Derek, he strove to push the gruesome creatures back to the door. But the thanoi, hungry for the blood of intruders, were crazed. Swinging wildly with axes and clubs, they forced the two knights back into the center of the room.

  My eye caught sight of Laurana's flaxen hair as she drew her blade and lunged forward to join the attack. The sight of the plucky fighter made me realize I'd done nothing to help. But what could I-a tired old man-do?

  Tormented with indecision, I saw the kender disappear among the rows of barrels. It wasn't like him to hide from something this exciting. What was he up to? I wondered.

  Suddenly, a blood-thirsty roaring filled my ears. Jerking my head around, I saw a minotaur press past the warriors, bent for Elistan and me. But the creature's face changed from delight to surprise as he tripped and fell at my feet for no apparent reason. From among the barrels I heard a childish giggle, and the reason became clear. "Now!" shouted the kender, and I guess he was talking to me, for suddenly I knew what to do.

  First, I raised my staff and bashed the minotaur over the head with it as hard as I could. Then I dashed over to the first row of barrels and tugged on the rim of one of the heavy things until whatever was inside sloshed, swaying the barrel ever so slightly.

  "Elistan, help me!" I called to the cleric, who stood on the edge of the battle, mumbling prayers. Seeing my intention, he drew his hands from his cuffs and pulled on the rim of the barrel with me, until, with a ground-jarring thump, the cask dropped onto its rounded side on the floor. Wordlessly, we stepped back and ran at the barrel full-tilt, sending it rolling like a loosened boulder at the prone minotaur.

  Groggy from his fall and my bashing, the creature looked up just in time to see a spiraling wooden barrel about to smash into the tips of his horns. Then the minotaur's eyes saw no more, squashed as they were by the mammoth barrel.

  But my triumph was shortlived as I quickly realized my error. The barrel was still rolling, headed straight for Laurana, Sturm, and Derek. Still engaged with thanoi and minotaurs in the center of the room, they did not see their danger. I panicked and yelled to the only one who faced me.

  "Sturm!"

  The knight's blood-spattered face jerked up, his eyes widened slightly. Without missing a beat, he slashed viciously at the thanoi before him. Leaning to his right, he shoved Derek away from the minotaur he fought, then bowled Laurana over to his left, not a second ahead of the swiftly turning barrel. It knocked the remaining minotaur and thanoi to the floor, then the barrel stopped, pinning or squashing whatever happened to get in its way.

  Unfortunately, that included Derek's foot. Surprised by Sturm's shove, the stubborn knight had tried to stand his ground, apparently slipped in a pool of blood, and crashed to the floor, just as the barrel arrived. Though obviously in great pain, the knight hacked at the furry thanoi fingers that desperately groped at him from under the barrel.

  Raising her sword, Laurana strode forward and ended the lives of the struggling creatures, as Sturm hoisted the end of the barrel pinning Derek's foot.

  "This is your fault, Brightblade," Derek growled, nearly spitting on Sturm's proffered hands. He struggled to stand alone, though the effort cost him. Sturm caught the Knight of Solamnia by the armpits as he slumped toward the floor.

  As the cleric of my tribe, it was my duty to heal, as best I could, the wounds of my people. I rushed to Derek's side to examine his foot. Even with his boot on, I could see that it was twisted unnaturally. Gently slipping the furry glove off, my hand touched the jagged edge of a bone. Blood flowed freely from the purple, swollen wound. Swallowing a gasp of revulsion, I searched my mind for an answer. But I had none. I hadn't the power to heal this man.

  Derek, thankfully, had passed out from the pain. I gently maneuvered the bone back to what I thought was its intended position, then let Derek's foot slide from my hand to rest on the cold ground. Looking up suddenly, I found Sturm's eyes on me.

  "Great job, Raggart," he said, smiling warmly. "Your trick with the barrel was an excellent idea."

  My mouth dropped in shock. How could he say that? Not only had I crushed Derek's foot, but I'd given Sturm's enemy more cause to hate him. Derek would never forgive Sturm for my mistake! I couldn't bare the shame anymore. I spun around to flee, but a firm hand gripped my shoulder.

  "Do not blame yourself, Raggart." Elistan's soothing voice enveloped me. "Sturm is right. Your quick thinking saved our lives-including Derek's." He knelt down next to the unconscious knight and laid a hand to his forehead.

  Though his words were intended to reassure me, they only increased my shame. I hung my head and turned away, my face burning. No matter what anyone said, I knew that my thoughtless, though well-intended action had caused Derek's injury. Not only had I caused it, I couldn't even cure him! Some cleric I was!

  "Laurana, Sturm!" the kender squealed. I'd forgotten all about him again. "I think I know where the orb is!"

  "Tasslehoff Burrfoot, what have you been up to?" Laurana demanded sternly. "You haven't been off exploring by yourself, have you?"

  "Well, not exactly." The kender looked sheepish. "I thought I saw one of those walrus-looking men running out the door, so I thought I'd better find out what mischief he was up to. When I realized I'd lost sight of him, I looked up and found myself in a library-here in this frozen castle!" His face was flushed with barely contained excitement. Though I said nothing, I noticed that his pack had new bulges.

  "That does it," Laurana said firmly. "Our battle here will likely draw more attention. Let's get moving." She brushed a tangle of hair from her face. "Will Derek be able to travel, or must we carry him?"

  "I will carry myself!" Derek growled. To my surprise, he pushed past Elistan to pull himself to his feet. "Never let it be said that Derek Crownguard slowed anyone down!"

  "No one would ever accuse you of that," Laurana muttered, the double edge in her words lost to Derek. "Let's go find this library of Tas's."

  Gingerly, Derek placed his weight on his foot. I waited for him to crumble like softened snow. But as he headed for the door, a slight limp was the only indication that he'd hurt his foot. Having seen the extent of his wound, I was stunned! Could sheer force of will allow Derek to walk on the bloody stump I had just examined?

  What startled me almost as much was that no one else was surprised. I was about to demand an explanation when Elistan caught my eye. That serene, half-smile lit his face as he winked at me knowingly. My mind balked at the only possibility. Could it be true?… Elistan…?

  "Come on, Raggart!" Tasslehoff's high-pitched voice prodded me. Shaking my head, I looked around the storeroom to find I was alone with dead minotaurs and thanoi. Everyone waited for me at the doorway at the far side of the room. I'd think about Elistan and Derek's foot later, I told myself as I hurried to join them.

  Sturm poked his head out the door and peered about for signs of life. With a jerk of his head, he signaled us to follow him into the area beyond.

  We stepped into what must have been the central courtyard of a once-beautiful castle. Five or more doors led off in a semi-circle to the right, and three more curved around to our left. The courtyard was otherwise empty, save for a massive fountain shaped of water-spurting dragons. The fountain immediately struck me as strange- Why hadn't it frozen?

  "Magical," Elistan said abruptly, as if reading my thoughts. "The water has curative properties."

  But instead of thrilling me, for I had many aches and pains a few swallows might cure, Elistan's prediction made me apprehensive. Someone or something very magical and intelligent was at work in Icewall Castle.

  "The library's over here!" Tasslehoff whispered loudly, slipping off to one of the rooms to our left. "There was a trap on this door," he added proudly, his hand on the knob, "but I fixed it." He disappeared through the opening, only to thrust his head back out again. "By the way," he chimed, pointing to a spot before the door, "don't step on this big, flat stone."

  "Kender!" muttered Derek, but I noticed he stepped across the stone before continuing into the room beyond. Sturm and Laurana followed, with Elistan and me behind.

  Several candles, nearly burned to their bases, lit the small room that was filled with racks and shelves of books, scrolls, and loose papers. Tasslehoff was everywhere at once, ducking under tables and peering between shelves.

  "What makes you think the orb is in here, kender?" asked Derek. "We shouldn't stay long. We can't afford to get caught in here. I can barely turn around, let alone fight."

  "Derek's right, Tas," said Laurana. "Let's search quickly and get out of here," Derek cast a surprised glance at Laurana, caught off guard by her support. "Raggart, keep an eye on the courtyard." Following her instructions, I moved back to stand in the doorway, an eye on both areas.

  "I didn't say the orb was in here," Tasslehoff said de fensively, "I only said it MIGHT be. Whoever owns this library must certainly read a lot, though how he finds the time… Of course, what else has he to do in the middle of all this boring ice and snow-no offense, Raggart."

  I smiled to let him know none was taken. Frankly, I found the landscape a bit dull at times, too. But my smile slipped as I read the spines of several books- spellbooks, I noted with growing apprehension.

  "I've not felt such all-consuming evil since… since Pax Tharkas." Elistan shuddered, though I didn't understand the reference. "I think we're near the orb, but I do not believe it is in this room."

  Abruptly, Laurana stopped pulling books from shelves. Looking resolute, she said grimly, "Then we'll just have to search every room in this frozen castle until we find it."

  "I knew better than to trust a kender," Derek scoffed, striding toward the door.

  "You're the one who insisted back in Tarsis that I come along," Tasslehoff pointed out, his little chin thrust forward.

  "A demand I've come to regret more than once," Derek muttered.

  "Then I don't suppose you want to know about the room hidden behind this wall?" the kender asked coyly.

  Derek's face turned dark.

  Laurana stepped up between them. "What room, Tas?" she asked in that sweet voice of hers.

  Tasslehoff shot a triumphant glance at Derek before turning an excited grin on Laurana. "I think there's one behind this bookcase," he said, striding up to the shortest wall in the room, directly opposite the doorway I stood in. Tas knocked twice on the middle sup port of the bookcase. The whole wall swung back, almost knocking the kender off his feet in the process. "See?"

  "I see," Derek said, pushing past the startled kender to peer into the room beyond. "I see another empty, orbless room!"

  Derek took a few steps into the room, disappearing from my view. "Whoa-what the-?" He gasped suddenly. "Hey!" It was a shriek of frustration, not pain. Everyone pressed forward. Though I knew I should stay by the door no matter what, I could not resist looking too.

  There, in a bedchamber the same size as the library, stood Derek, his hands frozen to his sides. I could not understand it until I saw the slender form of an elf in chainmail and black robes, a black longsword gleaming in his hand. He wore a strange helmet with horns over his head. I did not know it then, but I was getting my first glimpse of a Dragon Highlord.

  "He's a dark elf wizard and he's put some kind of hold on Derek!" Elistan cried. "Keep him from casting spells!"

  Before anyone could reach the dark elf, he slammed the hilt of his sword into Derek's face. The knight crumpled into what I hoped was only unconsciousness.

  Instantly, Laurana and Sturm ran into the room, their arrival drawing the dark elf wizard away from the helpless Knight of Solamnia. The Highlord started to attack them, but he hesitated for a moment at the sight of Laurana.

  "An elf, and a woman yet, dares invade the castle of Feal-Thas, Dragon Highlord of the White Wing?" the wizard snarled, and suddenly began slashing at her with his sword.

  Ducking his blow, Laurana lost her footing and fell, hitting her head on a wooden desk. For a moment, she could not move, but crouched on the floor, holding her head in her hands. Seeing his opening, Feal-Thas closed in, his sword raised.

  "It was high and mighty elves like you who cast me out!" Feal Thas cried. "You will pay!" But in his thirst for Laurana's blood, the wizard had forgotten Sturm.

  The knight lunged forward to strike the sword from the dark elf's hand. But with a speed and agility unknown to most humans, the Highlord read Sturm's intentions and whirled about, slashing the knight's own sword hand. Sturm's gasped, holding his bleeding wrist. His moment of weakness cost him dearly. In a single, lightning-swift motion, Feal-Thas snatched a dagger from his sleeve and hurled it toward the knight. A hideous shriek gurgled out of Sturm's mouth as he clutched at his throat, and blood streamed down his fur cloak. He collapsed.

  "Sturm!" Laurana cried out at the sight of her fallen friend. Her beautiful face contorted with rage as she whirled on Feal-Thas. With grim determination, Laurana wiped the blood from her eyes and fought her enemy, though it was easy to see that each blow drained her by half. Feal-Thas appeared to enjoy playing with her, seeming to delight in parrying her waning blows without striking back.

  Elistan, whose strategy so far had been to stay out of the way of the fighters in the small chamber, could hold back no longer. Seeing Laurana alone, he hurled himself at the wizard, bashing him repeatedly in the back with his mace. Though the attack caught him unaware, Feal-Thas used his magic to toss the cleric from him as he would a fly. A huge, phantom hand reached out, grabbed the cleric, and threw him aside. Elistan slammed into the far wall and slid silently to the floor.

  And there I stood, rooted to the spot, useless as a dwarven doorknob. What had my strategy-my excuse-been? I wasn't even watching our rear anymore. What could I do? I remembered the kender- where was he? He'd come through for me before, tripping the minotaur. But he was nowhere to be seen. There weren't any barrels here to save my unworthy life.

  I watched in despair as Laurana, exhausted from her lone struggle, dropped to one knee. She tried desperately to regain her footing, but Feal-Thas leaned forward and plucked the sword from her bloodstained, aching hands. Eyes dim with angry tears, she swung desperately at him with her fist. The dark elf grabbed her wrist and laughed.

  "What a pity," he murmured, the patronizing sound of victory in his voice. He held the tip of her own sword to the throbbing vein in her throat. "You appear to be an elf of some breeding-not entirely unattractive either. I could spare your life if you gave me good reason," he offered suggestively.

  Laurana, breathing heavily from her struggles, turned her gaze from the knife in Sturm's throat and his blood-soaked chest to look at the Highlord. She swallowed hard. "Are you suggesting I join you as a Highlord?" she asked in a seductively coy tone I would never have thought her capable of using.

 

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