Margaret Weis - Dragons of Autumn Twilight

"About one hundred and twenty feet farther on, there's a crossroads," Flint added. "We found footprints there, but we could not make out what they were. They don't look like draconians or hobgoblins and they don't come this direction. The mage says the evil flows from the road to the right."

"We will camp here for the night," Tanis said, "near the entry. We'll post double watch-one by the door, one down the corridor. Sturm, you and Caramon first. Gilthanas and I, Eben and Riverwind, Flint and Tasslehoff."

"And me," said Tika stoutly, though she couldn't ever remember being so tired in her life. "I'll take my turn."

Tanis was glad the darkness hid his smile. "Very well," he said. "You watch with Flint and Tasslehoff."

"Good!" Tika replied. Opening her pack, she shook out a blanket and lay down, conscious all the while of Caramon's eyes on her. She noticed Eben watching her, too. She didn't mind that. She was accustomed to men staring at her admiringly and Eben was handsomer even than Caramon. Certainly he was wittier and more charming than the big warrior. Still, just the memory of Caramon's arms around her made her shiver with delightful fear. She firmly put the memory from her mind and tried to get comfortable. The chain mail was cold and it pinched her through her blouse. Yet she noticed the others didn't take theirs off. Besides, she was tired enough to sleep dressed in a full suit of plate armor. The last thing Tika remembered as she drifted off was telling herself she was thankful she wasn't alone with Caramon.

Goldmoon saw the warrior's eyes linger on Tika. Whispering something to Riverwind-who nodded, smiling-she left him and walked over to Caramon. Touching him on the arm, she drew him away from the others into the shadow of the corridor.

"Tanis tells me you have an older sister," she stated.

"Yes," Caramon answered, startled. "Kitiara. Though she's my half-sister."

Goldmoon smiled and laid her hand gently on Caramon's arm. "I'm going to talk to you like an older sister."

Caramon grinned. "Not like Kitiara, you won't, lady of Que-shu. Kit taught me the meaning of every swear word I'd ever heard, plus a few I hadn't. She taught me to use a sword and fight with honor in the tournaments, but she also taught me how to kick a man in the groin when the judges weren't watching. No, lady, you're not much like my older sister."

Goldmoon's eyes opened wide, startled by this portrayal of a woman she guessed the half-elf loved. "But I thought she and Tanis, I mean they-"

Caramon winked. "They certainly did!" he said.

Goldmoon drew a deep breath. She hadn't meant the conversation to wander off, but it did lead to her subject. "In a way, that's what I wanted to speak to you about. Only this has to do with Tika."

"Tika?" Caramon flushed. "She's a big girl. Begging your pardon, I don't see that what we do is any of your concern."

"She is a girl, Caramon," Goldmoon said gently. "Don't you understand?"

Caramon looked blank. He knew Tika was a girl. What did Goldmoon mean? Then he blinked in sudden understanding and groaned. "No, she isn't-"

"Yes." Goldmoon sighed. "She is. She's never been with a man before. She told me, while we were in the grove putting on her armor. She's frightened, Caramon. She's heard a lot of stories. Don't rush her. She desperately wants approval from you, and she might do anything to win it. But don't let her use that as a reason to do something she'll regret later. If you truly love her, time will prove it and enhance the moment's sweetness."

"I guess you know that, huh?" Caramon said, looking at Goldmoon.

"Yes," she said softly her eyes going to Riverwind. "We have waited long, and sometimes the pain is unbearable. But the laws of my people are strict. I don't suppose it would matter now," she spoke in a whisper, more to herself than Caramon, "since we are the only two left. But, in a way, that makes it even more important. When our vows are spoken, we will lie together as man and wife. Not until then."

"I understand. Thanks for telling me about Tika," Caramon said. He patted Goldmoon awkwardly on the shoulder and returned to his post.

The night passed quietly, with no sign of their pursuer. When the watches changed, Tanis discussed Eben's story with Gilthanas and received an unsatisfactory answer. Yes, what the man said was true. Gilthanas had been gone when the draconians attacked. He had been trying to convince the druids to help. He'd returned when he heard the sounds of battle and that's when he'd been struck on the head. He told Tanis all this in a low, bitter voice.

The companions woke when morning's pale light crept through the door. After a quick breakfast, they gathered their things and walked down the corridor into the Sla-Mori.

Arriving at the crossroads, they examined both directions-left and right. Riverwind knelt to study the tracks, then rose, his expression puzzled.

"They are human," he said, "but they are not human. There are animal tracks as well-probably rats. The dwarf was right. I see no sign of draconians or goblins. What is odd, however, is that the animal tracks end right here where the paths cross. They do not go into the right-hand corridor. The other strange tracks do not go to the left."

"Well, which way do we go?" Tanis asked.

"I say we don't go either way!" Eben stated. "The entrance is still open. Let's turn back."

"Turning back is no longer an option," Tanis said coldly. "I would give you leave to go yourself, only-"

"Only you don't trust me," Eben finished. "I don't blame you, Tanis Half-Elven. All right, I said I'd help and I meant it. Which way-left or right?"

"The evil comes from the right," Raistlin whispered.

"Gilthanas?" Tanis asked. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No, Tanthalas," the elf answered. "Legend says that there were many entrances from Sla-Mori into Pax Tharkas-all secret. Only the elven priests were allowed down here, to honor the dead. One way is as good as another."

"Or as bad," whispered Tasslehoff to Tika. She gulped and crept over to stand near Caramon.

"We'll go left," Tanis said, "since Raistlin feels uneasy about the right."

Walking by the light of the mage's staff, the companions followed the dusty, rock-strewn tunnel for several hundred feet, then reached an ancient stone wall rent by a huge hole through which only darkness was visible. Raistlin's small light showed faintly the distant walls of a great hall.

The warriors entered first, flanking the mage who held his staff high. The gigantic hall must once have been splendid, but now it had fallen into such decay that its faded splendor seemed pathetic and horrible. Two rows of seven columns ran the length of the hall, though some lay shattered on the floor. Part of the far wall was caved in, evidence of the destructive force of the Cataclysm. At the very back of the room stood two double bronze doors.

As Raistlin advanced, the others spread out, swords drawn. Suddenly Caramon, in the front of the hall, gave a strangled cry. The mage hurried to shine his light where Caramon pointed with a trembling hand.

Before them was a massive throne, ornately carved of granite. Two huge marble statues flanked the throne, their sightless eyes staring forward into the darkness. The throne they guarded was not empty. Upon it sat the skeletal remains of what had once been a male-of what race, none could say, death being the great equalizer. The figure was dressed in regal robes that, even though faded and decayed, still gave evidence of their richness. A cloak covered the gaunt shoulders. A crown gleamed on the fleshless skull. The bone hands, fingers lying gracefully in death, rested on a sheathed sword.

Gilthanas fell to his knees. "Kith-Kanan," he said in a whisper. "We stand in the Hall of the Ancients, his burial tomb. None have seen this sight since the elven clerics vanished in the Cataclysm."