Ник О'Донохью - Kender, Gully Dwarves, and Gnomes

“It would be Palin’s duty, as a Mage of the White Robes, to try to reclaim the renegade or, if that failed, to trap him and bring him to the Conclave for justice. It would be a difficult task for a powerful Wizard of the white robes, much less an apprentice mage. Those of the Black Robes had it easier. “You, my uncle, would have simply killed him,” Palin murmured in a low voice, leaning his cheek against his staff.

“What do you think he’s done with the women?” Sturm asked anxiously.

The dwarf shrugged. “Used them for his pleasure, tossed them into the volcano, sacrificed them in some unholy magic rite. How should I know?”

Sturm looked grave; Tanin scowled; and Palin, truth be told, looked frightened.

“Well, we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be, I guess,” Tanin said heavily, gathering up a handful of spears. “These look stupid,” he muttered. “Maybe the dwarf’s right. If we’re facing an evil wizard gone berserk, we might as well die fighting with dignity instead of like kids playing at knights and goblins.”

“A weapon’s a weapon, Tanin,” Sturm said matter-of-factly, taking a spear in his hand. “At least it gives us some advantage ...”

The three brothers and the dwarf approached the wall that was still changing its aspect so often it made them dizzy to watch it.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point trying to find a secret way in,” Tanin said.

“By the time we found it, it’d likely be turning into the front door,” Dougan agreed. “If we wait here long enough, there’s bound to be an opening.”

Sure enough, but not exactly the opening any of them anticipated.

One moment they were looking at a wall of solid stone (“Dwarvish make,” remarked Dougan, admiringly) when it changed to a wall of water, thundering down around them out of nowhere, soaking them with its spray.

“We can get through this, I think!” Sturm cried above the noise of the waterfall. “I can see through it! The castle’s on the other side!”

“Yes, and there’s likely to be a chasm on the other side as well!” Tanin returned.

“Wait,” said Palin. “Shirak!” He spoke the magic word to the staff and, instantly the faceted crystal globe on top burst into light.

“Ah, I wish the chief had seen that!” said the dwarf wistfully.

Palin thrust the staff into the water, simply with the idea of being able to see something beyond it. To his amazement, however, the water parted the instant the staff touched it. Flowing down around the staff, it formed an archway that it seemed they could walk through, safe and dry.

“I’ll be damned!” Tanin said in awe. “Did you know it would do that, Little Brother?”

“No,” Palin admitted shakily, wondering what other powers Raistlin had invested into the staff.

“Well, thank Paladine it did,” Sturm said, peering through the hole in the water. “All safe over here,” he reported, stepping through. “In fact,” he added as Palin and Tanin and Dougan—with a wide-eyed gaze of longing at the staff—followed. “It’s a grass lawn!” Sturm said in wonder, looking around in the gray gloom by the light of the staff. Behind them, the water changed again, this time to a wall of bamboo. Ahead of them stretched a long, smooth sward that rose up a gentle slope, leading to the castle itself.

“Now it’s grass, but its liable to change into a lava pit any moment,” Palin pointed out.

“You’re right, Little Brother,” Tanin grunted. “We better run for it.”

Run they did; Palin hiking up his white robes, the stout dwarf huffing and puffing along about three steps behind. Whether they truly made their destination before the sward had time to change into something more sinister or whether the sward was always a sward, they never knew. At any rate, they reached the castle wall just as night’s black shadows closed in on them, and they were still standing on smooth, soft grass.

“Now all we need,” said Sturm, “is a way inside—” The blank wall of gray marble that they had been facing shimmered in the staffs light, and a small wooden door appeared, complete with iron hinges and an iron lock.

Hurrying forward, Tanin tugged at the lock. “Bolted fast,” he reported.

“Just when a kender would come in handy,” Sturm said with a sigh.

“Kender! Bite your tongue!” Dougan muttered in disgust.

“Palin, try the staff,” Tanin ordered, standing aside.

Hesitantly, Palin touched the brilliantly glowing crystal of the staff to the lock. The lock not only gave way, but it actually melted, forming a puddle of lead at Palin’s feet.

“Lad,” said the dwarf, swallowing, “your uncle must have been a remarkable man. That’s all I can say .”

“I wonder what else it can do?” Palin muttered, staring at the staff with a mixture of awe, pride, and frustration.

“We’ll have to worry about that later! Inside,” said Tanin, yanking open the door. “Sturm, you go first. Palin follow him. We’ll use your staff for light. The dwarf and I’ll be right behind you.”

They found themselves crowded together on a flight of narrow, winding stairs that spiraled upward. Walls surrounded them on all sides; they could see nothing save the stairs vanishing into darkness.

“You realize,” said Palin suddenly, “that the door will—” Whirling around, he shone the light of the staff on a blank wall.

“Disappear,” finished Tanin grimly.

“There goes our way out!” Shuddering, Sturm looked around. “These stairs could change! Any moment, we could be encased in solid rock!”

“Keep moving!” ordered Tanin urgently.

Running up the steep stairs as fast as they could, expecting to find themselves walking on anything from hot coals to a swinging bridge, they climbed up and up until, at last, the stout dwarf could go no farther.

“I’ve got to rest, lads,” Dougan said, panting, leaning against a stone wall that was, unaccountably, remaining a stone wall.

“Nothing inside seems to be changing,” Palin gasped, weary himself from the unaccustomed exercise. He looked with envy at his brothers. Their bronze-skinned, muscular bodies gleamed in the staff’s light. Neither was even breathing hard.

“Palin, shine the light up here!” Sturm ordered, peering ahead.

His legs aching so that he thought he could never move them again, Palin forced himself to take another step, shining the staff’s light around a comer of the stairwell. “There’s a door!” Sturm said, in triumph. “We’ve reached the top!”

“I wonder what’s beyond it,” Tanin said darkly.

He was interrupted by, of all things, a giggle. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” called a laughing voice from the other side of the door. “It’s not locked.”

The brothers looked at each other. Dougan frowned. Palin forgot his aching body, forcing himself to concentrate on his spell casting. Tanin’s face tightened, his jaw muscles clenched. Gripping his spear, he thrust his way past Dougan and Palin to come stand beside Sturm.

Cautiously, both warriors put their hands on the door.

“One, two, three,” Sturm counted in a whisper. On the count of three, he and Tanin threw their combined weight against the door, knocking it open and leaping through, spears at the ready. Palin ran after them, his hands extended, a spell of fire on his lips. Behind him, he could hear the dwarf roaring in fury.

They were greeted with peals of merry laughter.

“Did you ever see,” came the giggling voice, “such cute legs?”

The mist of battle rage clearing from his eyes, Palin stared around blankly. He was surrounded, literally, by what must have been hundreds of women. Beside him, he heard Sturm’s sharp intake of breath and he saw, dimly, Tanin lower his spear in confusion. From somewhere on the floor at his feet, he heard Dougan swearing, the dwarf having tripped over the door-stoop in his charge and fallen flat on his face. But Palin was too stunned, staring at his captors, to pay any attention to him.