The War of the Lance t2-3

by Margaret Weis

  "Good-bye, good-bye," Fizban told us. We were all inside Huma's Tomb, in the Silver Dragon Mountain. "Nice seeing you again. I'm a bit miffed about the chicken feathers" — (I could explain that part but it would take too long. Astinus has it written down in his Chronicles2.) — "but no hard feelings."

  Then Fizban glared at me.

  "Are you coming?" he demanded. "I haven't got all night."

  The chance to travel with a wizard! Especially a dead wizard! I couldn't pass it up. (Though I guess he wasn't really dead but none of us were sure of that at the time, especially Fizban.)

  "Coming? With you!" I cried.

  I was all excited and would have left right then and there, but it occurred to me that if I left, who would look out for everyone else in the group? (If I had known then that Silvara was really a silver dragon, I wouldn't have felt so bad, but I didn't.) I had no idea what sort of trouble my friends would get into without me. Especially Flint, my best friend, the dwarf.

  Flint was truly a wonderful person and had many good qualities, but — since I have to be honest — I thought he lacked a bit in the common-sense line. He was constantly getting into trouble and it was me who was always having to drag him out.

  But Fizban promised me that Flint and the rest of my friends would be fine without me and that we'd see them again in Famine Time, which was coming up soon. So I grabbed my pack and my pouches and off Fizban and I went together on an adventure.

  An adventure that I never told anyone about until now.

  The story I never told.

  "Where are we going?" I asked Fizban, after we'd left Huma's Tomb far, far behind us.

  The wizard was moving in a tremendous hurry, huffing and puffing and stomping down the trail, his arms flying, his hat pulled low over his forehead, his staff thumping the ground.

  "I don't know," he said fiercely, and walked faster than ever.

  This struck me as a bit odd. I mean, I've set off on journeys to places that I didn't know precisely where I was going but I never rushed to get there. I took my time. Enjoyed the scenery. Which is maybe why we were traveling so fast, because at that point there wasn't much scenery to enjoy. We hadn't gone very far when — smack — we walked right into Foghaven Vale.

  I suppose you're wondering about that SMACK sound. Maybe you think squish might be more appropriate for talking about walking into fog. Or perhaps whoosh. But I thought "smack" at the time because that's what it felt like. Smack into a gray-white wall of fog. It was thick. Extremely thick. I know because I held my hand up to my face and walked right into it myself. I wondered if the fog had thickened up on purpose in our honor.

  "Drat!" said Fizban, waving his arms. "Get out of my way! Can't see a confounded thing. What's the meaning of this? No respect for the aged! Absolutely none at all."

  He stood there waving his arms and shouting at the fog. I watched a while as best I could for not being able to see him all that well. But it seemed to me that the more he shouted the thicker the fog got — sort of an "I'll Show You, Old Man!" type of reaction. And my topknot was soaking wet and dripping water down the back of my shirt, and my shoes were slowly filling up with oozing muck — all of which was very entertaining for a while, but soon lost a lot of its charm.

  "Fizban," I said, going up to tug on his sleeve.

  I guess I startled him, coming up on him suddenly out of the fog like that.

  At any rate, he apologized very handsomely for hitting me on the nose with his staff and helped pick me up out of the muck and patted my head until it quit ringing. And we thought at first my nose was broken, then decided it wasn't and when the bleeding stopped, we started on our way again.

  We walked and we walked. Finally, Fizban said he thought the fog had let up considerably. The result, he said, of a marvelous spell he'd cast on it. I didn't think it was polite to contradict him and besides I could almost sort of see the grass under my feet if I bent down and looked for it, so I figured he must be right. But we slowed our pace quite a bit, especially after Fizban walked BLAM into the tree.

  It was either right before or right after he set the tree on fire that we came to Huma's Tomb.

  It was daylight now. (We'd spent the night getting here.) The fog lifted just enough for us to see where we were, which I thought was quite sneaky of the fog. Almost like it was laughing at us.

  I must tell you I was somewhat disappointed to see Huma's Tomb again. Not that it isn't a wonderful place. It is. Huma's Tomb, for those who haven't made the pilgrimage there, is really a temple. It is rectangular in shape and made out of black rock that Flint called obsidian. The outside is carved all over with knights fighting dragons and it is a very solemn and reverent place.

  Inside is Huma's bier where they laid his body to rest. And his shield and sword are still there, but his body isn't. The Tomb is sad because it makes you think about your life and how you wish you'd done things better. But it's a good kind of sad because you realize that there's still the rest of your life for you to change and make better.

  That was how I felt when I FIRST saw Huma's Tomb, but now maybe all the fog was making it look different. All I felt now was the kind of sad that doesn't make you feel good inside.

  "Ah, ha I" Fizban shouted. "I know where I am."

  "Huma's Tomb," I said.

  "No!" He was thunderstruck. "Didn't we just leave here?"

  "Yes. We must have been walking in circles. Maybe I'll go say good-bye to Flint, while I'm here," I said, and started to climb the stairs.

  "No, no," Fizban said quickly, grabbing hold of me. "They're not there. All gone inside the Silver Dragon Mountain. Silvara's taken them to the magical pool of dragonmetal, used to forge the magical dragonlances. Come along. We have other fish to fry."

  Well, I had to admit that the temple did look dark and deserted now. And fried fish sounded good. So we set out.

  We hadn't taken two steps before the fog came back, only this time it was mixed with smoke from the smoldering tree and I couldn't see the grass beneath my feet. I couldn't see my feet.

  We walked and walked and walked and stopped and rested and ate dinner. We began to walk again and Fizban told me what a marvelous tracker he was, much better than Riverwind, and how he (Fizban) never ever got lost and how he always kept the wind on his right cheek so moss wouldn't grow on his north side. And then we came to Huma's Tomb. The second time.

  "Ah! ha!" cried Fizban, charging out of the fog, and stubbed his toe on the stairs leading up to the temple.

  When he saw where we were (for the second time), he shouted. "You again!" He scowled and shook his fist at the temple. And he kicked the stairs with the same toe he used to bump into them.

  Fizban hopped around on one foot and yelled at the stairs, which was fun to watch for a while, but must have got pretty boring later on because the next thing I knew I was asleep.

  What I mean to say is that the next thing I knew I was awake, but I must have fallen asleep in order to have woken up, mustn't I? I think I slept for a considerable length of time because I was all stiff and sore from lying on the slick, black stairs, and I was wet and cold and hungry.

  "Fizban?" I said.

  He wasn't there.

  I felt sort of creepy, maybe because the Tomb was sort of creepy. My stomach twisted up, because I was afraid something might have happened to Fizban and, to be honest, this fog was starting to make my skin shiver, as Flint would say. Then I heard him snore. (Fizban.) He was sleeping on the grass with his injured foot propped up on a step and his hat over it (his foot).

  I was very glad to see him and guess I startled him, waking him up suddenly with a yell like that. He apologized for letting off the fireball, and we were able to have a hot breakfast, due to the fact that another tree was burning. He said that my eyebrows would grow back any day.

  After breakfast, off we went again — Fizban with his foot wrapped up in a dish towel I'd found in my pouch. We walked around in the fog for I forget how long except I remember eating again and sle
eping again and then we came to Huma's Tomb.

  For the third time.

  I don't mean to offend any knights when I say this, but I was beginning to be a little bored at the sight of it.

  "This does it," Fizban muttered, and he started to roll up his sleeves. "Follow us, will you!"

  "I don't think it's following us," I pointed out, and I'm afraid I spoke pretty sharp. "I think we're following it!"

  "No!" Fizban looked amazed. Then confused. "Do you think so?"

  "Yes," I snapped, wondering if my eyebrows would truly grow back and wishing I could see what I looked like without them. In fact, I was wishing I could see anything, besides Huma's Tomb and fog and burning trees.

  "Then you don't think I should let loose with a real rip-snorter of a spell and blow it sky high?" he asked, in a kind of wistful tone.

  "I don't think the knights would like that," I pointed out testily. "And you know how they can be."

  (No offense. I don't mean all knights. Just some knights.)

  "Besides," I continued, "Huma might come back and be really put out to find that someone blew up his Tomb while he was gone. And I can't say that I'd blame him."

  "No, I suppose not," said Fizban, unhappily. "Maybe I could just blow up the stairs?"

  "How will Huma get up to the door if the stairs are gone?"

  "I see your point." Fizban heaved a sigh.

  "You know, Fizban," I said sternly (I decided I had to be stern), "this has been a lot of fun. Really. It's not everyday I get my nose almost broken and both my eyebrows singed off and watch you set fire to two trees and see Huma's Tomb in the fog three times (four for me) but I think we've done just about everything exciting there is to do around here. It's time to move on. WHEREVER IT IS WE'RE GOING." I said the last words in an extra firm tone, hoping he'd take the hint.

  Fizban muttered around awhile and did a few magic tricks that were kind of interesting, like shooting off some white and purple stars. He asked me how I liked that one and would I like to see some more?

  I said no.

  Then he got real flustered and took off his hat and took off the dish towel from around his hurt foot and put his hat back on, only he put it on his foot and put the dish towel over his head.

  Suddenly he said, "I've got it! A spell — "

  "Wait! Not yet!" I cried, jumping up and covering my face with my hands.

  "A spell that will take us right where we want to go!" he shouted triumphantly. "Here, grab hold of my sleeve. Hang on tight, there's a good lad. Keep your hand out of my pouch. Wizard-stuff in there. And some rather fine liverwurst. Ready? Here we go!"

  Well, I thought. Finally! At last!

  I grabbed hold of Fizban's sleeve and he spoke some words that sounded like spiders crawling around inside my head. Everything went blurry and I heard a sound like wind blowing in my ears.

  And when I opened my eyes, there we were.

  Inside Huma's Tomb.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Fizban!" I said and this time I was stern AND firm. "Did you mean to do that?"

  "Yes," he said, twisting the dish towel in his hands and sneaking peeks around the room. "Got us right where I wanted. Uh, do you happen to know where that might be? Just testing you," he added quickly.

  I'm afraid I shouted. "We're in Huma's Tomb!"

  "Oh, dear," he said.

  Well, by this time I'd had enough. "I hate to hurt your feelings, Fizban, but I don't think you're much of a wizard and — "

  I didn't finish that because Fizban's eyebrows (HE still had eyebrows) came together and got real bristly and stuck out over his nose and he looked suddenly very fierce and angry. I was afraid he was angry at me, but as it turned out, he wasn't.

  "Enchantment!" he cried.

  "What?" I didn't know what we were talking about.

  "Enchantment!" he said again. "We're under an enchantment! We're cursed!"

  "How marvelou — I m-mean, how awful," I stammered, seeing his fierce look grow even fiercer. "Who… who would put us under an enchantment?" I asked in very polite tones.

  "Who else? The Dark Queen." He glared at me and stomped around the tomb. "She knows I'm after the dragon orb and she's trying to thwart me. I'll fix her. I'll… (mumble, mumble, mumble)."

  I put the mumbles in because I really couldn't make out what Fizban said he was going to do to the Dark Queen if he ever got his hands on her. Or if I did at the time I can't remember now.

  "Well," I said briskly, hopping up. "Now that we know we're cursed and under an enchantment, let's leave and get on with our journey."

  Fizban bristled at me. "That's just it, you see. We can't leave."

  "Can't leave?!" My heart sank down to the hole in my sock. "You mean… we're…"

  Trapped," said Fizban gloomily. "Doomed forever to wander in the fog and always come back here, where we started. Huma's Tomb."

  "Forever!"

  My heart oozed right out of the hole in my sock and ended up in my shoe. A snuffle rose up in my throat and choked me. "I'm very glad you're not dead anymore, Fizban, and I'm truly quite fond of you, but I don't want to be trapped in a cursed enchantment in a tomb with you forever! Why, what would Flint do without me? And Tanis? I'm his advisor, you know. You have to get us out of here!"

  I'm afraid I went a bit wild, just because I was so tired of being in this Tomb and of the fog and everything. I grabbed hold of Fizban's robes and the snuffle turned into a whimper, then into a wail, and I lost control of myself for a fairly good stretch of time.

  Fizban patted my topknot and let me cry into his robes, then he slapped me on the back and said to brace myself and keep a stiff upper torso. He was going to offer me his handkerchief to wipe my nose only he couldn't find it. Fortunately, I found it and so I used it and felt some better. Funny, the way getting those snuffles and wails out of your insides makes you feel better.

  And I was so much better that I had an Idea.

  "Fizban," I said, after giving the matter thought, "if the Dark Queen has put us under an enchantment, it must mean she's watching us — right?"

  "You betcha!" he said, and he looked around quite fierce again.

  It occurred to me then that maybe I shouldn't talk so loud because if she was watching us she might be listening to us, too. So I crept over to Fizban and, once I found his ear under all that hair, I whispered into it, "If she's watching the front door, why don't we sneak out the back?"

  He looked sort of stunned, then he blinked and said, "By George! I have an idea. If the Dark Queen's watching the front door, why don't we sneak out the back?!"

  "That was my idea," I pointed out.

  "Don't be a ninny!" he said, miffed. "Are you a great and powerful wizard?"

  "No," I was forced to admit.

  "Then it was my idea," he said. "Hang on."

  He grabbed hold of my topknot and I grabbed hold of his robes and he spoke some more of those spider-leg words. The Tomb got blurry and wind rushed around me and I was dizzy and turned every which way. All in all quite a delightful sensation. And then everything settled down and I heard Fizban say "oops" in a kind of way that I didn't like much, having said it myself a time or two on occasion and knowing what it meant.

  I opened my eyes kind of cautiously, thinking that if I saw Huma's Tomb again I'd be upset. But I didn't. See Huma's Tomb, that is. I opened my eyes wide and my mouth opened at the same time to ask where we were, when suddenly a hand clapped over my mouth.

  "Shush!" said Fizban.

  His whiskers tickled my cheek, and, before I knew what was happening, he'd lifted me clean off my feet and was dragging me backward into a really dark part of wherever it was we were.

  "Mish, muckgup, whursh blimp," I said. What I meant to say was, "But, Fizban, that's Flint!" only it sounded like the other since he had his hand over my mouth.

  "Quiet! We're not supposed to be here!" he hissed back at me, and he looked incredibly angry and not at all pleased with either me or himself and probably the Dark Queen, too. So
I kept quiet.

  Though of course what I really wanted to do was to shout, "Hey, Flint! It's me, Tas!" 'cause I knew the dwarf'd be really glad to see me.

  He always is, though he pretends he isn't, because that's the way dwarves are. And Theros Ironfeld was with Flint, too, and I knew Theros would be glad to see me because just a while back up in Huma's Tomb he'd saved me from falling into a hole and ending up on the other side of the world.

  With Fizban's hand clapped tight over my mouth and his whiskers tickling me I didn't have much else to do except look. So I looked. We were in what appeared to be a blacksmith's shop, only it was the largest and finest blacksmith's shop I'd ever seen in my entire life. And I guessed then that this blacksmith's shop must be making Theros happy because he is the finest blacksmith I'd ever known in my life. He and this shop just seemed to go together.

  There was an anvil bigger than me and a forge with a bellows and a lake of cold water that you put the hot metal in to hear it hiss and see steam rise up and when the metal comes out it's not hot anymore.

  But the most wonderful thing was a huge pool of what looked like molten silver that gave off a most beautiful light. It reminded me of Silvara's hair in the light of Solinari, the silver moon. That silver light was the only light in the forge and it seemed to coat everything with silver, even Flints beard. Theros's black skin shone like he'd been standing out in the moonlight. And his silver arm gleamed and glistened and it was so lovely and wonderful that I felt a snuffle come up on me again.

  "Shhhh!" Fizban whispered.

  I couldn't have talked now anyhow, what with the snuffle, and he knew that, I guess, because he let loose of me. We stood quietly in the shadows and watched. All the time Fizban was muttering that we shouldn't be here.

  While Fizban muttered to himself — trying to remember his spell, I suppose — I fought the snuffle and listened to Flint and Theros talk. For awhile I was too busy with the snuffle to pay much attention to what they were saying, but then it occurred to me that neither of them looked very happy, which was odd, considering that they were down here with this wonderful pool of silver. I listened to find out why.