“We thought it best to leave them hidden like that,” she said, and added wistfully, “Someday, perhaps, we can uncover them and light will once again shine on us. Now is not the time, however. Too many people in this world consider knowledge a threat.”
The library was not only dark, it was eerily silent. All sound was absorbed and swallowed up by the books. The world could end in an explosion of fire outside and they would be none the wiser.
“I tell you honestly,” said Aran on the morning of the third day, “I’d rather be fighting death knights.” He opened a book. Dust flew up his nose and he gave a violent sneeze. “An entire legion of death knights with a hundred drunken dwarves thrown in!”
He glanced dispiritedly through the discolored pages. “This appears to have been written by spiders who dipped their legs in ink and ran across the vellum. There are pictures of dragons, though, so this might have something to do with orbs.”
Lillith peered over his shoulder. “That’s the language of magic. Put it here with the other books on dragons.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes, leaving a smear of dirt on her forehead. “Be sure to mark its place on the shelf.”
“This book also has pictures of dragons,” said Brian, “but the pages are so brittle I’m afraid they’ll disintegrate if I continue examining it, and I can’t read it anyway.”
Lillith took the book from him, handling it carefully, and added it to the small pile.
“Perhaps there is a wizard is the city who could translate this writing for us-” Brian began.
“We’re not telling the wizards about this,” Derek stated flatly.
“There aren’t any wizards in Tarsis, anyway,” said Lillith, “or at least any who’d openly admit to it. We’ll wait for the kender. I’m not promising anything, mind you, but-”
“Lillith?” A male voice called out her name. “Are you here?”
Derek rose to his feet.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said Lillith hurriedly. “It’s one of the Aesthetics.” She raised her voice. “I’m coming, Marcus!”
She hurried off toward the front of the library.
“Brian, go with her,” Derek ordered.
Brian did as he was told, wending his way through the shelves, trying to remember the twists and turns that would take him to the front and not strand him on some remote literary island. He kept the light of Lillith’s lantern in sight and eventually caught up with her.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?” Lillith asked, dimpling.
Brian felt his cheeks burn and was thankful it was so dim she couldn’t see him flush.
“It’s just… it might be dangerous,” he said lamely. Lillith only laughed at him.
A man stood in the doorway. He was wrapped up in cloak and scarves and it was difficult to tell anything about him. Lillith hurried over to him and the two conferred together in low voices. Brian hung back, though he knew quite well Derek had sent him to spy on her. The two didn’t speak long. Marcus left and Lillith came back to Brian. Her eyes were shadowed in the lantern light. She looked troubled.
“What’s wrong?” Brian asked.
“You should alert the others,” she said.
Brian gave a halloo that echoed off the walls and shook the dust from the ceiling. He heard Aran swear and the sound of heavy objects falling.
Lillith winced. “Be careful!” she called out anxiously.
“Oh, I’m all right,” Aran answered.
Lillith muttered something, and Brian grinned. It wasn’t the knight she was worried about. It was her precious books.
“The kender is in Tarsis,” she reported when Derek and Aran emerged from the gloom into the lantern light. “He and his friends entered the city through one of the gates this morning. They’re staying in the Red Dragon, but there’s going to be trouble. The guards at the gate saw that one of the men was wearing a breastplate with the markings of a Solamnic knight and reported him to the authorities. They’ve sent guards to the inn to arrest them.”
“That would be Brightblade,” said Derek irritably, “and he is not a knight. He has no right to wear such armor!”
“That’s not really the point, Derek,” said Aran, exasperated. “The point is that Brightblade and his friends are about to be arrested, and if the draconians find out that these are the people they’ve been searching for-”
“They can’t find out!” said Lillith urgently. “They mustn’t! They’ll search the kender’s belongings, and they’ll discover what he’s carrying. You have to save him.”
“From the Tarsian guards? In broad daylight? Mistress, I don’t care what mysterious thing this kender is supposed to be carrying. A rescue attempt would only end in our joining the kender in prison,” said Derek.
“My friends are going to create a diversion,” Lillith said. “You’ll be able to grab the kender in the confusion. Bring him straight here. I’ll be waiting for you. Now hurry!” She started to herd them up the stairs.
“How will we find this inn?” Brian asked. “We don’t know our way around town!”
“You won’t have any trouble,” she predicted. “Keep to the main road out front. Go back through the Central Plaza, the way you came. After that, just follow the shouting.”
Brian blinked and rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bright winter sunlight. He’d been living in the library in perpetual night, and he had no idea what time of day it was. From the position of the sun, he guessed it must be about midmorning. The knights hastened along the main street as Lillith had told them, meeting no one until they came to the Central Plaza. Here, they found crowds of people, all in a state of excitement. Those who had been inside the shops and stalls were pouring out into the streets, while others were breaking into a run. The knights could hear a low roaring sound, as of waves breaking on a shore.
“What’s happening, my good man?” Aran asked, stopping to talk to a shopkeeper gloomily watching his customers stream out of his store. “Has the sea come back?”
“Very funny,” the shopkeeper growled. “Seems there’s some sort of riot going on over by the Red Dragon Inn. A Solamnic Knight made the mistake of showing his insignia in our city. The guards tried to haul him off to the Hall of Justice, but they may not get that far. We don’t take kindly to his kind in Tarsis. He’ll get justice, all right.”
Aran raised his hand to make sure the scarf he had wound around his nose and mouth had not slipped. “A pox on all Solamnic Knights, I say. I think we’ll go have a look. Good day to you, sir.”
“Here,” said the shopkeeper, handing Aran a rotting tomato. “I can’t leave the store, but throw this at him for me.”
“I’ll do that, sir, thank you,” said Aran.
The three ran off, joining the throng of people heading in one direction. They found their way blocked by people yelling insults and tossing the occasional rock. Judging by the craning heads, the prisoners were coming in their direction. Brian peered over the shoulders of those in front of him and saw the small procession come into view. The Tarsian guards had their prisoners surrounded. The crowds fell back and grew quiet at the sight of the guards.
“There’s Brightblade, all right,” Aran announced. He was the tallest of them and had the best view. “And to judge by his ears, that man with him is the half-elf. There’s a true elf and a dwarf, and that must be Lillith’s prize kender.”
“Where’s the diversion?” Brian wondered.
“We can at least get closer,” said Derek, and they shoved their way through the mob that was milling about indecisively. The crowd had grown bored yelling at the knight and it seemed they might disperse when, suddenly, the kender lifted his shrill voice and yelled at one of the guards, “Hey, you! Adle-pated pignut! What happened to your muzzle?”
The guard went red in the face. Brian had no idea what an adle-pated pignut was, but apparently the guard did, for he lunged at the kender, who dodged nimbly out of the guard’s grasp and swatted him over the head with his hoopak. Some in the crowd je
ered, others applauded, while others began throwing whatever came to hand-vegetables, rocks, shoes. No one was particular about his aim, and the Tarsian guards found themselves under fire. The kender continued to taunt anyone who caught his fancy, with the result that several in the crowd tried to break through the guards’ defenses to get to him.
The commander of the guard started yelling at the top of his lungs. The elf was knocked off his feet. Brian saw Sturm halt and bend protectively over the fallen elf, fending off people with his hands. The dwarf was kicking someone and punching with his fists, while the half-elf was trying desperately to make his way to the kender.
“Now!” said Derek. He commandeered a gunny sack he found lying in front of a vegetable stand and shouldered his way through the crowd. Brian and Aran followed in his wake.
The half-elf was about to grab hold of the kender. Not knowing what else to do, Aran tossed his tomato and struck the half-elf full in the face, momentarily blinding him.
“Sorry about that,” Aran said ruefully.
Derek swooped down on the kender and clamped his hand over his mouth. Brian and Aran grabbed the kender’s feet. Derek popped the sack over his head and carried him, wriggling and squeaking, down the street.
Someone yelled to stop them, but the knights had acted so rapidly that by the time those watching realized what had happened, they were gone.
“You take him!” Derek shouted to Aran, who was the strongest among them.
Aran tossed the kender over his shoulder, keeping one arm clamped over his legs. The kender’s topknot had fallen out of the sack and straggled down Aran’s back. Derek ran down an empty side street. Brian came last, keeping an eye on their backs. With only a vague idea of where they were, they feared getting lost and they made their way back to the main road as quickly as possible.
The bagged kender was emitting muffled howls and wriggling like an eel. Aran was having difficultly hanging onto him and people were stopping to stare.
“Keep quiet, little friend,” Aran advised the kender, “and quit kicking. We’re on your side.”
“I don’t believe it!” shrieked the kender.
“We’re friends of Sturm Brightblade,” said Brian.
The kender ceased to howl.
“Are you knights like Sturm?” he asked excitedly.
Derek cast Aran a stony glance and seemed about to launch into one of his tirades. Aran shook his head at him.
“Yes,” he said, “we’re knights like Sturm, but we’re in hiding. You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t, I promise,’ said the kender, then he added, “Can you take me out of the sack? It was fun, at first, but now it’s starting to smell of onion.”
Derek shook his head. “Once we reach the library. Not before. I’ve no mind to go chasing a kender through the streets of Tarsis.”
“Not just yet,” Aran said conspiratorially. “It’s too dangerous. You’d be recognized.”
“You’re probably right. I’m one of the heroes of the battle of Pax Tharkas, and I helped find the Hammer of Kharas. When are we going to rescue the others?”
The three knights looked at each other.
“Later,” said Aran. “We… uh… have to think up a plan.”
“I can help,” the kender offered eagerly. “I’m an expert at plan-thinking. Would it be possible for you to open a small hole so that I could breath a little better? And maybe you could not jounce me around quite so much. I ate a big breakfast and I think it’s starting to turn on me. Have you ever wondered why the same food that tastes so good going down tastes really horrible when it comes back up-”
Aran dropped the kender on the ground. “I’m not going to have him puke on me,” he told Derek.
“Keep a firm grip on him,” ordered Derek. “He’s your responsibility.”
Aran removed the bag. The kender emerged, red in the face from being dangled upside-down and out-of-breath. He was short and slender, like most of his race, and his face was bright, inquisitive, alert, and smiling. He twitched a fur-lined vest and garishly colored clothes into place, felt to make sure his topknot of hair was still on top of his head and checked to see that all his pouches had come with him. This done, he held out his small hand.
“I’m Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” he said. “My friends call me Tas.”
“Aran Tallbow,” said Aran, and he gravely shook hands, then offered his flask. “To make up for the onion.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Tas, and he took a drink and almost took the flask, quite by accident, of course, as he told Aran in apology.
“Brian Donner,” said Brian, extending his hand.
Tas looked expectantly at Derek.
“Keep moving,” said Derek impatiently, and he walked off.
“Funny sort of name,” muttered the kender with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Sir Keep Moving.”
“He’s Derek Crownguard,” said Aran, getting a tight grip on the kender’s collar.
“Humph,” said Tas. “Are you sure he’s a knight?”
“Yes, of course, he is,” said Aran, grinning at Brian and winking. “Why do you ask?”
“Sturm says knights are always polite, and they treat people with respect. Sturm is always polite to me,” said Tas in solemn tones.
“It’s the danger, you see,” Brian explained. “Derek’s worried about us. That’s all.”
“Sturm worries about us a lot, too.” Tas sighed and looked back over his shoulder. “I hope he and the rest of my friends are all right. They always get into trouble if I’m not with them. Of course,” he added on second thought, “my friends get into lots of trouble when I am with them, but then I’m there to help them out of it, so I think I should go back-”
The kender made a sudden jerk, gave a twist and a wriggle, and before Aran knew what was happening the knight was holding an empty fur vest, and the kender was dashing off down the street.
Brian leaped after him and was finally able to catch him. Fortunately, Derek was far ahead of them and hadn’t seen what had happened.
“How did he escape like that?” Aran demanded of his friend.
“He’s a kender,” said Brian, unable to help laughing at the bewildered expression on Aran’s face. “It’s what they do.”
He assisted Tas in putting his fur vest back on, then, said, “I know you’re worried about your friends. So are we, but we’ve been sent on a very important mission to find you.”
“Me?” Tas said, astonished. “An important mission to find me-Tasslehoff Burrfoot?”
“There’s someone who wants to meet you. I promise,” Brian added gravely, “on my honor as a knight that when I have taken you to talk to our friend, I will help you rescue your friends.”
“Derek’s not going to like that,” Aran predicted with a grin.
Brian shrugged.
“An important mission!” breathed Tasslehoff. “Wait until I tell Flint. Yes, sure, I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t want to disappoint your friend. Who is your friend anyway? Why does he want to see me? Where are we going? Will he be there when we arrive? How did you know where to find me?”
“We’ll explain everything later,” said Aran. “We have to hurry.”
Aran took hold of Tas by one arm, Brian grabbed him by the other, and they hustled him down the street.
5
Magical glasses. The word “chromatic”. Love amid the dust. illith was waiting for them at the entrance to the library. Her face brightened when Aran and Brian deposited the kender on the ground in front of her.
“You found him! I’m so glad,” Lillith said, relieved. “Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” said the kender, reaching out his hand.
“Lillith Hallmark,” she returned, taking his hand in hers and pressing it warmly. “I am so very honored to meet you, Master Burrfoot.”
Tas flushed with pleasure at this.
“We should not be standing out in the open,” Derek warned. “Take him into the library.”
“Yes, you’re right. Com
e inside.” Lillith led the way. The kender followed her, delighted with the wonder of this unexpected adventure.
“A library! I love libraries. I’m not usually permitted inside them, however. I tried to visit the Great Library of Palanthas once, but I was told they don’t allow kender. Why is that, Lillith, do you know? I thought maybe they had made a mistake and what they meant to say was that they didn’t allow ogres, which I can understand, and I tried to crawl in through a window, so as not to bother anyone at the door, but I got stuck, and the Pathetics had to come help me-”
“Aesthetics,” Lillith corrected, smiling.
“Yes, them, too,” said Tas. “Anyway, I found out the rule doesn’t say anything about ogres, but it does say ‘no kender’. I’m very glad you admit kender.”
“We don’t as a general policy,” said Lillith, “but in your case, we’ll make an exception.”
By this time, they’d descended the stairs into the library proper. Tasslehoff stood quite still, staring around in awe. Lillith kept her hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you very much, gentlemen, for bringing him, and now, if you could excuse us, I must speak with Master Burrfoot in private.” Lillith added in apologetic tones, “As I told you, this is not my secret.”
“Secret?” said Tas eagerly.
“Of course, Mistress,” said Derek. He hesitated then added, “You mentioned something about Burrfoot being able to assist us-”
“I will let you know if he can or not,” Lillith assured him. “That’s part of the secret.”
“I’m extremely good at keeping secrets,” Tas announced. “What secret am I keeping?”
Dragons of the Highlord Skies dc-2 Page 21
