They tried it, and bored through the twenty-inch-thick floor in thirty minutes. Flushed with success, they bored more holes, connecting the first Micone hole with the Sec ond, about twelve feet away. Using this line as the base Of a triangle, Sturm and Kitiara angled Out into the main floor
Space. They were well into the triangle's Second arm, When the sun Went down and the gnomes came Streaming in. Flash announced that the scaffold was done.
"Then find a bit and join in," Kitiara said. "More Water,
Sturm! The handle feels hot!"
It was well past midnight when they finished, thirty-Six holes in all. Cupelix worked up an especially bracing repast with thick soup and lots Of bread. They had mined four bits, and Kitiara's hands were blistered.
Rainspot Offered her Some soothing Salve, but She declined. "Let's get On With it," She Said. "Get the pegs."
The gnomes did the peg work. They cut lengths from the remaining Scrap Wood, and Sturm banged these home with the sledge. Everyone cleared Out Of the triangle area formed by the bored holes. Kitiara filled a canvas bucket With Water and handed it to Sturm.
"Your honor," she Said. "Your idea."
He took the handle. "This is for the good yeoman Of Cas tle Brightblade," he answered, dousing each peg in turn, refilling the bucket, and dousing them all again.
Nothing happened.
"Well?" Said Kitiara, bracing One hand On her hip.
"It takes a while," said Sturm. "The pegs have to swell.
We'd better have some more water."
Sturm poured water On the pegs three more times. The tops Of the pegs clearly Swelled above the level Of the floor, but little else appeared to happen.
"wonderful," Kitiara said Sarcastically. She loped Out,
Snorting With ill-concealed contempt. One by One, the gnomes gave up, and went Outside. Sturm Shook his head.
"It Worked for my father's masons," he Said.
"Masonry is an arcane art," Cupelix said. "Its secrets are not easily adapted by the untrained."
Then the floor went crack.
Near the hole that Sturm and Kitiara had So laboriously enlarged, a hairline crack reached from the first peg, across the marble, to the peg On the Other Side Of the hole. Sturm laid the sledge On his shoulder and hurried to the scene. He
Was about to smite the Splitting Stone, When he heard another crack, and a fissure slowly zigzagged from the tri angle's far point to its base; Sturm raised the hammer.
"No, wait," Said the fascinated dragon.
The line between the Micone holes jumped apart, and
Sturm started backward. A section Of stone, larger than any they'd released by hand, broke free and plunged into the cavern below. That Opened the floodgates, and the entire triangle collapsed into the cavern with a rush. The Obelisk rang with the concussion as a ton Of marble hit the resonant floor a hundred feet down.
Kitiara burst in, the gnomes at her heels. "Great suffering gods! What was that?" She cried.
Sturm dusted his hands and pointed dramatically to the gaping hole in the floor. "The way is clear for Cupelix to descend!" he Said.
The gnomes were all for going On and bringing the Obelisk down that very night, but Sturm and Kitiara were both exhausted and begged Off. Cupelix supported them, saying that he had many items he Wished to Save from destruction before the tower Was demolished. He flew up to his private aerie and left the mortals to take their ease.
The gnomes quieted after the initial rush Of Success wore
Off. They burrowed into the Cloudmaster's jetsam and
Slept, their tinny Snores Sounding like an Operatic war between bullfrogs and crickets. Sturm Stretched Out On a blanket surrounded by Stacked crates. The Sky Was bril liantly clear as usual, and he counted Stars to make himself drowsy.
Kitiara sauntered around the crates. "Asleep?" she asked.
"Huh? No, not yet."
She slipped down opposite him, her back braced by a box.,"This may be our last night On Lunitari."
"Sounds good to me."
"You know, I've been trying to figure out how, long We've been here. In local terms, We've seen about forty-four days and forty-five nights. How long does that make it back home?"
"I don't know," he admitted.
"Suppose We get back to Krynn and find that years have passed?"
He almost laughed at the idea, but stopped himself.
Sturm couldn't prove that years hadn't elapsed while they were On the red moon.
"There are so many Old tales about humans who Went Off to elf realms and returned in What they thought were a few months to find their children grown and their friends dead
Of Old age," Kitiara said. Sturm thought She was just musing
Over possibilities, but then he realized that she Was seriously concerned.
"What are you afraid of, Kit?" he asked gently.
"The five-year reunion. It's important that I not miss it."
"And Tanis?"
"Yes."
"Do you intend to go back to him?"
Kitiara shifted uncomfortably. "No, that's not it. We didn't part on the best of terms, and I want to patch things up, before -" She started to say Something but stopped.
"Before what?" Sturm prompted.
"Before I begin my travels with Cupelix."
So, she was Owning up to it. "Are you giving up trying to find your father and his people?"
"My father always said his family had disowned him and his forever," she said. "Much as I'd love to ride up to their front door and spit in their faces, partnership With a dragon promises to be more exciting." She Shrugged. "I say, to the
Abyss with the Uth Matars."
The quiet interval grew long, and Sturm felt his eyelids droop With Sleep. He was about to nod Off When Kitiara said, "Sturm, if you see Tanis before I do, will you tell him
I'm sorry, and that he Was right?" Sturm was too much Of a gentleman to inquire What she had to be sorry about. He promised upon his honor as a Brightblade to bear her mes sage back to Tanis Half-Elven.
Chapter 29
The Obelisk Falls
The dragon cal1ed to them, rousing them from their slumber. The gnomes bounced up, eager to be about their business. Sturm rubbed his eyes and looked about. Kitiara was not in sight.
He stretched and hunted around for a drink of water. As he was gulping a cool drink, Kitiara appeared. She tossed aside a handsaw and said, "What's the beast yelling about? I couldn't quite make it out."
"He wants us to get on with the demolition," said Sturm.
"Fine. I'm ready."
All the glass and porcelain jars and cups they had were to be used to pour vitriol on the lead mortar seams. The gnomes lined up like soldiers, mugs and cream pitchers in hand like swords. Kitiara gave them a mocking salute and told them to bide their time.
Inside, Cupelix was nervously hopping from one massive leg to the other. "All my books and manuscripts are safe," he said. "The Micones have transferred everything to a safe place in the cave." There was no longer reason to delay.
Cupelix put his three-toed feet into the hole and curled his tail up close to his chest. It would be a tight fit.
"Get your wings in," Sturm said. "Closer. That's it."
"Good thing I am a svelte example of my race," Cupelix said. His massive body was in the hole. Only his head showed inside the obelisk.
"I believe I shall miss this place," he said.
"Go on!" Kitiara shouted. Cupelix's head disappeared. He fell forty feet before getting his wings open. He hit the cavern floor with enough force to rock the tower on its foundations, but to the dragon it was a minor tumble. He telepathed his good health and told the mortals to proceed.
"Cupelix is safely in the cavern," Sturm said to Stutts when they were outside.
Stutts put two fingers to his mouth and blew a shrieking whistle. "Begin pouring!" he cried.
The gnomes, spaced around the three sides of the obelisk, applied vitriol to the lead. Wisps of noxious vapor coiled off the walls, choking all the gnomes but Roperig and Fitter, who had invented Caustic Smoke Filters for Noses and
Mouths (Mark II). Keen observers would have recognized the filters as being made of old bandannas and suspenders.
"Right! Now clear off the top level and pour on the sec ond!" Stutts called. Convenient beakers of vitriol were posi tioned on the lower platforms of the scaffold.
Flash climbed down the spindly collection of poles and planks. He swung to the second level and promptly kicked over his beaker. Oil of vitriol streamed down the scaffold, eating away the wood and rope lashing with as much vigor as it consumed the lead.
"Look out!" said Sturm. The poles under Flash sagged and came apart. The gnome wavered back and forth on his toes and toppled from the planking.