"Who's ready?" Fizban demanded irritably.

"Skimbosh! With the net to catch you, you see-"

"Net!" Fizban turned pale. "That does it!" He flung a foot over the edge.

But before he could move, the chief reached out and pulled on the first lever. The grinding sound started again as the catapult began pivoting in its mooring. The sudden motion threw Fizban back, knocking his hat over his eyes.

"What's happening?" Tas shouted.

"They're getting him in position," Gnosh yelled. "The longitude and lat.i.tude have been precalculated and the catapult set to come into the correct location to send the pa.s.senger-"

"What about the net?" Tas yelled.

"The magician flies up to Skimbosh-oh, quite safely, I a.s.sure you-we've done studies, in fact, proving that flying is safer than walking-and just when he's at the height of his trajectory, beginning to drop a bit, Skimbosh throws a net out underneath him, catching him just like this"-Gnosh demonstrated with his hand, making a snapping motion like catching a fly-"and hauls him-"

"What incredible timing that must take!"

"The timing is ingenious since it all depends on a certain hook we've developed, though"-Gnosh pursed his lips, his eyebrows drawing together-"something is throwing the timing off a bit, but there's a committee-"

The gnome pulled down on the lever and Fizban-with a shriek-went sailing through the air.

"Oh dear," said Gnosh, staring, "it appears-"

"What? What?" Tas yelled, trying to see.

"The net's opened too soon again"-Gnosh shook his head-"and that's the second time today that's happened on Skimbosh alone and this definitely will be brought up at the next meeting of the Net Guild-"

Tas stared, open-mouthed, at the sight of Fizban whizzing through the air, propelled from below by the tremendous force of the catapult, and suddenly the kender saw what Gnosh was talking about. The net on level fifteen-instead of opening after after the mage had flown past and then catching him as he started to fall-opened the mage had flown past and then catching him as he started to fall-opened before before the mage reached level fifteen. Fizban hit the net and was flattened like a squashed spider. For a moment he clung there precariously-arms and legs akimbo, then he fell. the mage reached level fifteen. Fizban hit the net and was flattened like a squashed spider. For a moment he clung there precariously-arms and legs akimbo, then he fell.

Instantly bells and gongs rang out.

"Don't tell me," Tas guessed miserably. "That's the alarm which means the net failed."

"Quite, but don't be alarmed (small joke)," Gnosh chuckled, "because the alarms trip a device to open the net on level thirteen, just in time, oops-a bit late, well, there's still level twelve-"

"Do something!" Tas shrieked.

"Don't get so worked up!" Gnosh said angrily. "And I'll finish what I was about to say about the final emergency back up system and that is, oh, here it goes-"

Tas watched in amazement as the bottoms dropped out of six huge barrels hanging from the walls on level three, sending thousands of sponges tumbling down onto the floor in the center of the chamber. This was done-apparently-in case all the nets on every level failed. Fortunately, the net on level nine actually worked, spreading out beneath the mage just in time. Then it folded up around him and whisked him over to the balcony where the gnomes, hearing the mage cursing and swearing inside, appeared reluctant to let him out.

"Sonoweverything'sfineandit'syourturn," said Gnosh.

"Just one last question!" Tas yelled at Gnosh as he sat down in the seat. "What happens if the emergency backup system with the sponges fails?"

"Ingenious-" said Gnosh happily, "because you see if the sponges come down a little too late, the alarm goes off, releasing a huge barrel of water into the center, and, since the sponges are there already, its easy to clean up the mess-"

The chief pulled the lever.

Tas had been expecting all sorts of fascinating things in the Examination Room, but he found it-to his surprise-nearly empty. It was lighted by a hole drilled through the face of the mountain which admitted the sunlight. (This simple but ingenious device had been suggested to the gnomes by a visiting dwarf who called it a 'window'; the gnomes were quite proud of it.) There were three tables, but little else. On the central table, surrounded by gnomes, rested the dragon orb and his hoopak.

It was back to its original size, Tas noted with interest. It looked the same-still a round piece of crystal, with a kind of milky colored mist swirling around inside. A young Knight of Solamnia with an intensely bored expression on his face stood near the orb, guarding it. His bored expression changed sharply at the approach of strangers.

"Quite all right," Gnosh told the knight rea.s.suringly, "these are the two Lord Gunthar sent word about-" Still talking, Gnosh hustled them over to the central table. The gnome's eyes were bright as he regarded the orb. "A dragon orb," he murmured happily, "after all these years-"

"What years?" Fizban snapped, stopping at some distance from the table.

"You see," Gnosh explained, "each gnome has a Life Quest a.s.signed to him at birth, and from then on his only ambition in life is to fulfill that Life Quest, and it was my Life Quest to study the dragon orb since-"

"But the dragon orbs have been missing for hundreds of years!" Tas said incredulously. "No one knew about them! How could it be your Life Quest?"

"Oh, we knew about them," Gnosh answered, "because it was my grandfather's Life Quest, and then my father's Life Quest. Both of them died without ever seeing a dragon orb. I feared I might, too, but now finally, one has appeared, and I can establish our family's place in the afterlife-"

"You mean you can't get to the-er-afterlife until you complete the Life Quest?" Tas asked. "But your grandfather and your father-"

"Probably most uncomfortable," Gnosh said, looking sad, "wherever they are-My goodness!"

A remarkable change had come over the dragon orb. It began to swirl and shimmer with many different colors-as if in agitation.

Muttering strange words, Fizban walked to the orb and set his hand upon it. Instantly, it went black. Fizban cast a glance around the room, his expression so severe and frightening that even Tas fell back before him. The knight sprang forward.

"Get out!" the mage thundered. "All of you!"

"I was ordered not to leave and I'm not-" The knight reached for his sword, but Fizban whispered a few words. The knight slumped to the floor.

The gnomes vanished from the room instantly, leaving only Gnosh, wringing his hands, his face twisted in agony.

"Come on, Gnosh!" Tas urged. "I've never seen him like this. We better do as he says. If we don't, he's liable to turn us into gully dwarves or something icky like that!"

Whimpering, Gnosh allowed Tas to lead him out of the room. As he stared back at the dragon orb, the door slammed shut.

"My Life Quest..." the gnome moaned.

"I'm sure it will be all right," Tas said, although he wasn't sure, not in the least. He hadn't liked the look on Fizban's face. In fact, it hadn't even seemed to be Fizban's face at all-or anyone Tas wanted to know!

Tas felt chilled and there was a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. The gnomes muttered among themselves and cast baleful glances at him. Tas swallowed, trying to get a bitter taste out of his mouth. Then he drew Gnosh to one side.

"Gnosh, did you discover anything about the orb when you studied it?" Tas asked in a low voice.

"Well," Gnosh appeared thoughtful, "I did find out that there's something inside of it, or seems to be, because I'd stare at it and stare at it without seeing anything for the longest time then, right when I was ready to quit, I'd see words swirling about in the mist-"

"Words?" Tas interrupted eagerly. "What did they say?"

Gnosh shook his head. "I don't know," he said solemnly, "because I couldn't read them; no one could, not even a member of the Foreign Language Guild-"

"Magic, probably," Tas muttered to himself.

"Yes," Gnosh said miserably, "that's what I decided-"

The door blew open, as if something had exploded.

Gnosh whirled around, terrified. Fizban stood in the doorway, holding a small black bag in one hand, his staff and Ta.s.slehoff's hoopak in the other. Gnosh sprang past him.

"The orb!" he screeched, so upset he actually completed a sentence. "You've got it!"

"Yes, Gnosh," said Fizban.

The mage's voice sounded tired, and Tas, looking at him closely, saw that he was on the verge of exhaustion. His skin was gray, his eyelids drooped. He leaned heavily on his staff. "Come with me, my boy," he said to the gnome. "And do not worry. Your Life Quest will be fulfilled. But now the orb must be taken before the Council of Whitestone."

"Come with you," Gnosh repeated in astonishment, "to the Council"-he clasped his hands together in excitement-"where perhaps I'll be asked to make a report, do you think-"

"I wouldn't doubt it in the least," Fizban answered.

"Right away, just give me time to pack, where's my papers-"

Gnosh dashed off. Fizban whipped around to face the other gnomes who had been sneaking up behind him, reaching out eagerly for his staff. He scowled so alarmingly that they stumbled backward and vanished into the Examination Room.

"What did you find out?" Tas asked, hesitantly approaching Fizban. The old mage seemed surrounded by darkness. "The gnomes didn't do anything to it, did they?"

"No, no." Fizban sighed. "Fortunately for them. For it is still active and very powerful. Much will depend on the decisions a few make-perhaps the fate of the world."

"What do you mean? Won't the Council make the decisions?"

"You don't understand, my boy," Fizban said gently. "Stop a moment, I must rest." The mage sat down, leaning against a wall. Shaking his head, he continued. "I concentrated my will on the orb, Tas. Oh, not to control dragons," he added, seeing the kender's eyes widen. "I looked into the future."

"What did you see?" Tas asked hesitantly, not certain from the mage's somber expression that he wanted to know.

"I saw two roads stretching before us. If we take the easiest, it will appear the best at the beginning, but darkness will fall at the end, never to be lifted. If we take the other road, it will be hard and difficult to travel. It could cost the lives of some we love, dear boy. Worse, it might cost others their very souls. But only through these great sacrifices will we find hope." Fizban closed his eyes.

"And this involves the orb?" Tas asked, shivering.

"Yes."

"Do you know what must be done to...to take the d-dark road?" Tas dreaded the answer.

"I do," Fizban replied in a low voice. "But the decisions have not been left in my hands. That will be up to others."

"I see," Tas sighed. "Important people, I suppose. People like kings and elflords and knights." Then Fizban's words echoed in his mind. The lives of some we love... The lives of some we love...

Suddenly a lump formed in Tas's throat, choking him. His head dropped into his hands. This adventure was turning out all wrong! Where was Tanis? And dear old Caramon? And pretty Tika? He had tried not to think about them, particularly after that dream.

And Flint-I shouldn't have gone without him, Tas thought miserably. He might die, he might be dead right now! The lives of some you love! The lives of some you love! I never thought about any of us dying-not really. I always figured that if we were together we could beat anything! But now, we've gotten scattered somehow. And things are going all wrong! I never thought about any of us dying-not really. I always figured that if we were together we could beat anything! But now, we've gotten scattered somehow. And things are going all wrong!

Tas felt Fizban's hand stroke his topknot, his one great vanity. And for the first time in his life, the kender felt very lost and alone and frightened. The mage's grip tightened around him affectionately. Burying his face in Fizban's sleeve, Tas began to cry.

Fizban patted him gently. "Yes," the mage repeated, "important people."

6.

The Council of Whitestone.

An important person.

The Council of Whitestone met upon the twenty-eighth day of December, a day known as Famine Day in Solamnia, for it commemorated the suffering of the people during the first winter following the Cataclysm. Lord Gunthar thought it fitting to hold the Council meeting on this day, which was marked by fasting and meditation.

It had been over a month since the armies sailed for Palanthas. The news Gunthar received from that city was not good. A report had arrived early on the morning of the twenty-eighth, in fact. Reading it twice over, he sighed heavily, frowned, and tucked the paper into his belt.

The Council of Whitestone had met once before within the recent past, a meeting precipitated by the arrival of the refugee elves in Southern Ergoth and the appearance of the dragonarmies in northern Solamnia. This Council meeting was several months in the planning, and so all members-either seated or advisory-were represented. Seated members, those who could vote, included the Knights of Solamnia, the gnomes, the hill dwarves, the dark-skinned, sea-faring people of Northern Ergoth, and a representative of the Solamnic exiles living on Sancrist. Advisory members were the elves, the mountain dwarves, and the kender. These members were invited to express their opinions, but they could not vote.

The first Council meeting, however, had not gone well. Some of the old feuds and animosities between the races represented burst into flame. Arman Kharas, representative of the mountain dwarves, and Duncan Hammerrock, of the hill dwarves, had to be physically restrained at one point, or blood from that ancient feud might have flowed again. Alhana Starbreeze, representative of the Silvanesti in her father's absence, refused to speak a word during the entire session. Alhana had come only because Porthios of the Qualinesti was there. She feared an alliance between the Qualinesti and the humans and was determined to prevent it.

Alhana need not have worried. Such was the distrust between humans and elves, that they spoke to each other only out of politeness. Not even Lord Gunthar's impa.s.sioned speech in which he had declared, "Our unity begins peace; our division ends hope!" made an impression.

Porthios's answer to this had been to blame the dragons' reappearance on the humans. The humans, therefore, could extricate themselves from this disaster. Shortly after Porthios made his position clear, Alhana rose haughtily and left, leaving no one with any doubts about the position of the Silvanesti.

The mountain dwarf, Arman Kharas, had declared that his people would be willing to help, but that until the Hammer of Kharas was found, the mountain dwarves could not be united. No one knew at the time that the companions would soon return the Hammer, so Gunthar was forced to discount the aid of the dwarves. The only person, in fact, who offered help was Kronin Thistleknott, chief of the kender. Since the last thing any sane country wanted was the "aid" of an army of kenders, this gesture was received with polite smiles, while the members exchanged horrified looks behind Kronin's back.

The first Council disbanded, therefore, without accomplishing much of anything.

Gunthar had higher hopes for this second Council meeting. The discovery of the dragon orb, of course, put everything in a much brighter light. Representatives from both elven factions had arrived. These included the Speaker of the Suns, who brought with him a human claiming to be a cleric of Paladine. Gunthar had heard a great deal about Elistan from Sturm, and he looked forward to meeting him. Just who would represent the Silvanesti, Gunthar wasn't certain. He a.s.sumed it was the lord who had been declared regent following Alhana Starbreeze's mysterious disappearance.

The elves had arrived on Sancrist two days ago. Their tents stood out in the fields, gaily colored silk flags fluttering in brilliant contrast to the gray, stormy sky. They were the only other race to attend. There had not been time to send a message to the mountain dwarves, and the hill dwarves were reported to be fighting for their lives against the dragonarmies; no messenger could reach them.

Gunthar hoped this meeting would unite the humans and the elves in the great fight to drive the dragonarmies from Ansalon. But his hopes were dashed before the meeting began.

After scanning the report from the armies in Palanthas, Gunthar left his tent, preparing to make a final tour of the Glade of the Whitestone to see that everything was in order. Wills, his retainer, came dashing after him.

"My lord," the old man puffed, "return immediately."

"What is it?" Gunthar asked. But the old retainer was too much out of breath to reply.

Sighing, the Solamnic lord went back to his tent where he found Lord Michael, dressed in full armor, pacing nervously.

"What's the matter?" Gunthar said, his heart sinking as he saw the grave expression on the young lord's face.

Michael advanced quickly, seizing Gunthar by the arm. "My lord, we have received word that the elves will demand the return of the dragon orb. If we won't return it, they are prepared to go to war to recover it!"

"What?" Gunthar demanded incredulously. "War! Against us! That's ludicrous! They can't-Are you certain? How reliable is this information?"

"Very reliable, I'm afraid, Lord Gunthar."

"My lord, I present Elistan, cleric of Paladine," Michael said. "I beg pardon for not introducing him earlier, but my mind has been in a turmoil since he first brought me this news."