"The elf almost got us killed by the slug," Eben said accusingly. "I wonder what's in store for us down here?"
No one answered. By now, everyone was experiencing the sense of growing evil Raistlin had warned of. Their footsteps slowed, and it was only through force of group will that they continued on. Laurana felt fear convulse her limbs and she clung to the wall for support. She longed for Tanis to comfort her and protect her, as he had done when they were younger and facing imaginary foes, but he walked at the head of the line with her brother. Each had his own fear to contend with. At that moment, Laurana decided that she would die before she asked for their help. It occurred to her, then, that she was really serious when she said she wanted to make Tanis proud of her. Shoving herself away from the side of the crumbling tunnel, she gritted her teeth and moved forward.
The tunnel came to an abrupt end. Crumbled stone and rubble lay beneath a hole in the rock wall. The sense of malevolent evil flowing from the darkness beyond the hole could almost be felt, wafting across the flesh like the touch of unseen fingers. The companions stopped, none of them-not even the nerveless kender-daring to enter.
"It's not that I'm afraid," Tas confided in a whisper to Flint. "It's just that I'd rather be somewhere else."
The silence became oppressive. Each could hear his own heart beat and the breathing of the others. The light jittered and wavered in the mage's shaking hand.
"Well, we can't stay here forever," Eben said hoarsely. "Let the elf go in. He's the one who brought us here!"
"I'll go," Gilthanas answered. "But I'll need light."
"None may touch the staff but I," Raistlin hissed. He paused, then added reluctantly, "I'll go with you."
"Raist-" Caramon began, but his brother stared at him coldly. "I'll go, too," the big man muttered.
"No," Tanis said. "You stay here and guard the others. Gilthanas, Raistlin, and I will go."
Gilthanas entered the hole in the wall, followed by the mage and Tanis, the half-elf assisting Raistlin. The light revealed a narrow chamber, vanishing into darkness beyond the staff's reach. On either side were rows of large stone doors, each held in place by huge iron hinges, spiked directly into the rock wall. Raistlin held the staff high, shining it down the shadowy chamber. Each knew that the evil was centered here.
"There's carving on the doors," Tanis murmured. The staff's light threw the stone figures into high relief.
Gilthanas stared at it. "The Royal Crest!" he said in a strangled voice.
"What does that mean?" Tanis asked, feeling the elf's fear infect him like a plague.
"These are the crypts of the Royal Guard," Gilthanas whispered. "They are pledged to continue their duties, even in death, and guard the king-so the legends speak."
"And so the legends come to life!" Raistlin breathed, gripping Tanis's arm. Tanis heard the sound of huge stone blocks shifting, of rusting iron hinges creaking. Turning his head, he saw each of the stone doors begin to swing wide! The hallway filled with a cold so severe that Tanis felt his fingers go numb. Things moved behind the stone doors.
"The Royal Guard! They made the tracks!" Raistlin whispered frantically. "Human and not human. There is no escape!" he said, grasping Tanis tighter. "Unlike the spectres of Darken Wood, these have but one thought-to destroy all who commit the sacrilege of disturbing the king's rest!"
"We've got to try!" Tanis said, unclenching the mage's biting fingers from his arm. He stumbled backwards and reached the entryway, only to find it blocked by two figures.
"Get back!" Tanis gasped. "Run! Who- Fizban? No, you crazy old man! We've got to run! The dead guards-"
"Oh, calm down," the old man muttered. "Young people. Alarmists." He turned around and helped someone else enter. It was Goldmoon, her hair gleaming in the light.
"It's all right, Tanis," she called softly. "Look!" She drew aside her cape: the medallion she wore glowed blue. "Fizban said they would let us pass, Tanis, if they saw the medallion. And when he said that-it began to glow!"
"No!" Tanis started to order her back, but Fizban tapped him on the chest with a long, bony finger.
"You're a good man, Tanis Half-Elven," the old mage said softly, "but you worry too much. Now just relax and let us send these poor souls back to their sleep. Bring the others along, will you?"
Tanis, too startled for words, fell back as Goldmoon and Fizban walked past, Riverwind following. As Tanis watched, they walked slowly between the rows of gaping stone doors. Behind each stone door, movement ceased as she passed. Even at that distance, he could feel the sense of malevolent evil slip away.
As the others came to the crumbling entryway and he helped them through, he answered their whispered questions with a shrug. Laurana didn't say a word to him as she entered; her hand was cold to the touch and he could see, to his astonishment, blood on her lip. Knowing she must have bitten it to keep from screaming, Tanis, remorseful, started to say something to her. But the elfmaid held her head high and refused to look at him.
The others ran after Goldmoon hurriedly, but Tasslehoff, pausing to peek into one of the crypts, saw a tall figure dressed in resplendent armor lying on a stone bier. Skeletal hands grasped the hilt of a longsword lying across the body. Tas looked up at the Royal Crest curiously, sounding out the words.
"Sothi Nuinqua Tsalarioth" said Tanis, coming up behind the kender.
"What does it mean?" Tas asked.
"Faithful beyond Death," Tanis said softly.
At the west end of the crypts, they found a set of bronze double doors. Goldmoon pushed it open easily and led them into a triangular passage that opened into a large hall. Inside this room, the only difficulty they faced was in trying to get the dwarf out of it. The hall was perfectly intact-the only room in the Sla-Mori they had encountered so far that had survived the Cataclysm without damage. And the reason for that, Flint explained to anyone who would listen, was the wonderful dwarven construction-particularly the twenty-three columns supporting the ceiling.
The only way out was two identical bronze doors at the far end of the chamber, leading west. Flint, tearing himself away from the columns, examined each and grumbled that he hadn't any idea what was behind them or where they led. After a brief discussion, Tanis decided to take the door to his right. The door opened onto a clean, narrow passageway that led them, after about thirty feet, to another single bronze door. This door, however, was locked. Caramon pushed, tugged, pried-all to no avail.
"It's no use," the big man grunted. "It won't budge."
Flint watched Caramon for several minutes, then finally stumped forward. Examining the door, he snorted and shook his head. "Jt's a false door!"
"Looks real to me!" Caramon said, staring at the door suspiciously. "It's even got hinges!"
"Of course, it does," Flint snorted. "We don't build false doors to look false-even a gully dwarf knows that."
"So we're at a dead end!" Eben said grimly.
"Stand back," Raistlin whispered, carefully leaning his staff against a wall. He placed both hands on the door, touching it only with the tips of his fingers, then said, "Khetsaram pak7io//" There was a flare of orange light, but not from the door-it came from the wall!
"Move!" Raistlin grabbed his brother and jerked him back, just as the entire wall, bronze door and all, began to pivot.
"Quickly, before it shuts," Tanis said, and everyone hurried through the door, Caramon catching his brother as Raistlin staggered.
"Are you all right?" Caramon asked, as the wall slammed shut behind them.