"Yes, the weakness will pass," Raistlin whispered. "That is the first spell I have cast from the spellbook of Fistandantilus. The spell of opening worked, but I did not believe it would drain me like this."
The door led them into another passageway that ran straight west for about forty feet, took a sharp turn to the south, then east, then continued south again. Here the way was blocked by another single bronze door.
Raistlin shook his head. "I can only use the spell once. It is gone from my memory."
"A fireball would open the door," said Fizban. "I think I remember that spell now-"
"No, Old One," Tanis said hastily. "It would fry all of us in this narrow passage. Tas-"
Reaching the door, the kender pushed on it. "Drat, it's open," he said, disappointed not to have to pick a lock. He peered inside. "Just another room."
They entered cautiously, Raistlin illuminating the chamber with the staff's light. The room was perfectly round, about one hundred feet in diameter. Directly across from them, to the south, stood a bronze door and in the center of the room-
"A crooked column," Tas said, giggling. "Look, Flint. The dwarves built a crooked column!"
"If they did, they had a good reason," the dwarf snapped, shoving the kender aside to examine the tall, thin column. It definitely slanted.
"Hmmmm," said Flint, puzzled. Then- "It isn't a column at all, you doorknob!" Flint exploded. "It's a great, huge chain! Look, you can see here it's hooked to an iron bracket on the floor."
"Then we are in the Chain Room!" Gilthanas said in excitement. "This is the famed defense mechanism of Pax Tharkas. We must be almost in the fortress."
The companions gathered around, staring at the monstrous chain in wonder. Each link was as long as Caramon was tall and as thick around as the trunk of an oak.
"What does the mechanism do?" asked Tasslehoff, longing to climb up the great chain. "Where does this lead?"
"The chain leads to the mechanism itself," Gilthanas answered. "As to how it works, you must ask the dwarf for I am unfamiliar with engineering. But if this chain is released from its moorings"-he pointed to the iron bracket in the floor-"massive blocks of granite drop down behind the gates of the fortress. Then no force on Krynn can open them."
Leaving the kender to peer up into the shadowy darkness, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the wondrous mechanism, Gilthanas joined the others in searching the room.
"Look at this!" he finally cried, pointing to a faint door-shaped line in the stones on the north wall. "A secret door! This must be the entrance!"
"There's the catch." Tasslehoff, turning from the chain, pointed to a chipped piece of stone at the bottom. "The dwarves slipped up," he said, grinning at Flint. "This is a false door that looks false."
"And therefore not to be trusted," Flint said flatly.
"Bah, dwarves have bad days like everyone else," Eben said, bending down to try the catch.
"Don't open it!" Raistlin said suddenly.
"Why not?" asked Sturm. "Because you want to alert someone before we find the way into Pax Tharkas?"
"If I had wanted to betray you, knight, I could have done so a thousand times before this!" Raistlin hissed, staring at the secret door. "I sense a power behind that door greater than any I have felt since-" He stopped, shuddering.
"Since when?" his brother prompted gently.
"The Towers of High Sorcery!" Raistlin whispered. "I warn you, do not open that door!"
"See where the south door leads," Tanis told the dwarf.
Flint stumped over to the bronze door on the south wall and shoved it open. "Near as I can tell, it leads down another passage exactly like all the others," he reported glumly
"The way to Pax Tharkas is through a secret door," Gilthanas repeated. Before anyone could stop him, he reached down and pulled out the chipped stone. The door shivered and began to swing silently inward.
"You will regret this!" Raistlin choked.
The door slid aside to reveal a large room, nearly filled with yellow, brick-like objects. Through a thick layer of dust, a faint yellowish color was visible.
"A treasure room!" Eben cried. "We've found the treasure of Kith-Kanan!"
"All in gold," Strum said coldly. "Worthless, these days, since steel's the only thing of any value…" His voice trailed off, his eyes widened in horror.
"What is it?" shouted Caramon, drawing his sword.
"I don't know!" Sturm said, more as a gasp than words.
"I do!" Raistlin breathed as the thing took shape before his eyes. "It is the spirit of a dark elf! I warned you not to open that door."
"Do something!" Eben said, stumbling backwards.
"Put up your weapons, fools!" Raistlin said in a piercing whisper. "You cannot fight her! Her touch is death, and if she wails while we are within these walls, we are doomed. Her keening voice alone kills. Run, run all of you! Quickly! Through the south door!"
Even as they fell back, the darkness in the treasure room took shape, coalescing into the coldly beautiful, distorted features of a female drow-an evil elf of ages past, whose punishment for crimes unspeakable had been execution. Then the powerful elven magic-users chained her spirit, forcing her to guard forever the king's treasure. At the sight of these living beings, she streched out her hands, craving the warmth of flesh, and opened her mouth to scream out her grief and her hatred of all living things.
The companions turned and fled, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape through the bronze door. Caramon fell over his brother, knocking the staff from Raistlin's hand. The staff clattered on the floor, its light still glowing, for only dragonfire can destroy the magic crystal. But now its light flared out over the floor, plunging the rest of the room into darkness.
Seeing her prey escaping, the spirit flitted into the Chain Room, her grasping hand brushing Eben's cheek. He screamed at the chilling, burning touch and collapsed. Sturm caught him and dragged him through the door just as Raistlin grabbed his staff and he and Caramon lunged through.
"Is that everyone?" Tanis asked, reluctant to close the door. Then he heard a low, moaning sound, so frightful that he felt his heart stop beating for a moment. Fear seized him. He couldn't breathe. The cry ceased, and his heart gave a great, painful leap. The spirit sucked in its breath to scream again.
"No time to look!" Raistlin gasped. "Shut the door, brother!"
Caramon threw all his weight on the bronze door. It slammed shut with a boom that echoed through the hall.
"That won't stop her!" Eben cried, panic-stricken.
"No," said Raistlin softly. "Her magic is powerful, more powerful than mine. I can cast a spell on the door, but it will weaken me greatly. I suggest you run while you can. If it fails, perhaps I can stall her."
"Riverwind, take the others on ahead," Tanis orderd. "Sturm and I'll stay with Raistlin and Caramon."
The others crept down the dark corridor, looking back to watch in horrible fascination. Raistlin ignored them and handed the staff to his brother. The light from the glowing crystal flashed out at the unfamiliar touch.
The mage put his hands on the door, pressing both palms flat against it. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to forget everything except the magic. "Kalis-an budrunin-" His concentration broke as he felt a terrible chill.
The dark elf! She had recognized his spell and was trying to break him! Images of his battle with another dark elf in the Towers of High Sorcery came back to his mind. He struggled to blot out the evil memory of the battle that wrecked his body and came close to destroying his mind, but he felt himself losing control. He had forgotten the words! The door trembled. The elf was coming through!
Then from somewhere inside the mage came a strength he had discovered within himself only twice before-in the Tower and on the altar of the black dragon in Xak Tsaroth. The familiar voice that he could hear clearly in his mind yet never identify, spoke to him, repeating the words of the spell. Raistlin shouted them aloud in a strong, clear voice that was not his own. "Kalis-an budrunin kara-emarath!"