Margaret Weis - Dragons of The Dwarven Depths

Caramon released his grip on his twin.

Raistlin hurried off to check on Sturm. Caramon could not remember his brother having ever been this worried about the knight before. Caramon had a feeling that Raistlin was more worried about Prince Grallen than Sturm. Caramon trailed after him, just as Tasslehoff, sputtering and spitting out muck, pulled himself up out of the water.

“Ugh!” said the kender, dragging sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “What a stupid place to put a swamp! How’s Sturm? What did I miss?”

Raistlin had his hand on the knight’s pulse. His breastplate was scorched, but it had protected him from the worst of the blast. At Raistlin’s touch, Sturm moved his hands and his eyes opened. He tried to stand up.

“Raist,” said Caramon, helping Sturm to his feet, “if you didn’t summon them, then why didn’t the wraiths attack us? Why just attack the draconians?”

“I don’t know, Caramon,” Raistlin said in exasperation. “I am not an expert on the undead.” Seeing his brother still expected an answer, Raistlin sighed. “There are many explanations. You know as well as I do that undead are often left behind as guardians. Perhaps the draconians took some sort of sacred artifact, or perhaps, as the knight is so fond of saying, evil turned upon itself.”

Caramon seemed unconvinced. “Yeah, maybe.” He eyed his brother, then said abruptly, “We should clear out of here, before the rest of those baaz come back.”

Raistlin looked at the cave’s opening, which resembled the grinning jaw of a skull, and he fancied for a moment that the ruins were laughing. “I do not think the others will be coming back, but you are right. We should leave.” He glanced around at the bundles of loot lying on the ground, and shook his head. “A pity we do not have time to go through this. Who knows what valuable objects they found down there?”

“I wouldn’t touch it if you paid me,” said Caramon, giving the bundles a dark glance. “All right, Your Highness. Lead the way.”

Sturm was groggy but appeared to be uninjured, except for some superficial burns on his hands and arms. He plunged into the swamp, wading ankle-deep through the water. The mists rolled and twined about him.

“I just came out of there,” Tas protested. “It’s not as much fun as you might imagine.” He shrugged his shoulders and picked up his hoopak. “Oh well. I guess I can’t get any wetter.” He jumped in and went floundering after Sturm.

Raistlin grimaced. Kilting up his robes around his knees, he thrust his staff into the murk to test the bottom and then stepped gingerly into the dark water.

Caramon came after him, his hand ready to steady his brother. “It’s just that I thought I heard that wraith say something to you, Raist. I thought I heard it call you ‘Master’.”

“What a vivid imagination you have, my brother,” Raistlin returned caustically. “Perhaps, when this is over, you should write a book.”

Laurana was in the cavern she shared with Tika, lying on the bed. She had been up a day and a night, out searching for her missing friend and the kender, and she was exhausted. Still, she couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking back over everything Tika had said, everything she’d done the last time they’d been together. The clues were there, right in front of her. Laurana should have known immediately that Tika meant to go off after Caramon and that Tas would go with her. She should have done something to stop them.

“If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, thinking about… other things…”

Other things such as Tanis. Laurana had just shut her eyes and was starting to drift off, when Goldmoon’s voice brought her wide awake. “Laurana! They’ve found her!” Two Plainsmen carried Tika on a make-shift litter into the cave where the sick and injured were tended. People gathered to see, and murmurs of pity and concern rose from the women, while the men shook their heads. They rested the litter gently on the floor.

Riverwind built up the fire, as his wife brought cool water. Laurana hovered over Tika.

“Where did they find her?”

“Lying on the bank of the stream,” said Goldmoon.

“Was Tas with her?”

“She was alone. No sign of the kender.”

Tika moaned in pain and stirred restlessly. Her eyes were wide open and hectically brilliant, but she saw only her feverish world. When Goldmoon bent over her, Tika screamed and began to strike her savagely with her fists. It took Riverwind and the two Plainsmen to hold her down, and even then she tried to struggle to free herself.

“What’s the matter with her?” Laurana asked, alarmed.

“Look at those scratches. She’s been attacked by some sort of wild animal,” Goldmoon answered, bathing Tika’s forehead in cool water. “A bear or a mountain lion, maybe.”

“No,” said Riverwind. “Draconian.”

His wife raised her head, looking at him in consternation. “How can you tell?” Riverwind pointed to several smears of gray ash on Tika’s leather armor. “The claw marks are only on her arms and legs, whereas a wild beast would have left its marks all over her body. The draconian was trying to subdue her, to rape her…”

Laurana shuddered. Riverwind looked very grim and his wife deeply troubled.

“What’s the matter?” Laurana asked. “She’ll be all right, won’t she? You can heal her…”

“Yes, Laurana, yes,” said Goldmoon, reassuringly. “Leave her with me, all of you.” She smoothed Tika’s red curls, damp with sweat, and placed her hand on the medallion of Mishakal she wore around her neck. “You should call a meeting of the Council, husband.”

“I need to talk to Tika first.”

Goldmoon hesitated, then said, “Very well. I will summon you when she is awake, but only talk to her for a little while. She is in need of food and rest.”

“Let me stay,” Laurana pleaded. “This is my fault.”

Goldmoon shook her head. “You need to go find Elistan.”

Laurana didn’t understand, but she could see that both were worried over something. Laurana accompanied the chieftain out of the shelter.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Tika was attacked by a draconian,” Riverwind said. “The attack must have occurred here. Or near here.”

Laurana suddenly understood the terrible implications. “The gods have mercy on us! That means our enemies have found a way into the valley! Goldmoon was right—I must tell Elistan—”

“Do so quietly,” Riverwind cautioned “Bring him back with you. Say nothing to anyone else, not yet. We don’t want to start a panic.”

“No, of course not,” Laurana said, and hastened off.

People were gathered at a respectful distance outside the cave, waiting for news. Tika, with her ready laughter and her cheerful disposition, was a favorite of nearly everyone in the camp, not counting the High Theocrat.

Maritta stopped Laurana as she left the cave, asking in concern how Tika was doing. Laurana saw that it would be easier to make a general announcement.

“She is very sick right now, but Goldmoon is with her and she will recover,” Laurana told the crowd. “She needs rest and quiet.”

“What happened to her?” asked Maritta.

“We won’t know until she wakes up,” Laurana hedged, and, managing to extricate herself, she went off in search of Elistan.

She met him on his way to Goldmoon.

“I heard about Tika,” he said. “How is she?”

“She will be well, thank the gods,” said Laurana. “Riverwind asks to speak to you.” Elistan looked at her searchingly. He saw the worry and fear in her face, and he was about to ask her what was wrong, then thought better of it. “I will come at once.” They returned to find a few people still lingering outside the cave. Laurana assured them once more that Tika was going to be fine and added that the best thing they could do to help her was to include her in their prayers.