Heaving a sigh, the kender walked on, kicking stones with his feet and looking around the city once more. Palanthas was well worth the look. The city had been fabled even during the Age of Might for its beauty and grace. There was no other city on Krynn that could compare to it—at least to human thought. Built on a circular pattern like a wheel, the center was, literally, the hub of the city. All the major official buildings were located here, and the great sweeping staircases and graceful columns were breathtaking in their grandeur. From this central circle, wide avenues led off in the directions of the eight major compass points. Paved with fitted stone (dwarven work, of course) and lined with trees whose leaves were like golden lace year-round, these avenues led to the seaport on the north and to the seven gates of the Old City Wall.
Even these gates were masterpieces of architecture, each one guarded by twin minarets whose graceful towers rose over three hundred feet into the air. The Old Wall itself was carved with intricate designs, telling the story of Palanthas during the Age of Dreams. Beyond Old City Wall lay New City. Carefully planned to conform to the original design, New City extended from Old City Wall in the same circular pattern with the same wide, tree-lined avenues. There were, however, no walls around New City. The Palanthians didn’t particularly like walls, (walls ruined the over—all design) and nothing in either Old or New City was ever built these days without first consulting the overall design, both within and without. Palanthas’s silhouette upon the horizon in the evening was as lovely to the eye as the city itself—with one exception.
Tas’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by a poke in the back from Flint.
“What is the matter with you?” the kender demanded, facing the dwarf.
“Where are we?” Flint asked surlily, hands on his hips.
“Well, we’re . . .” Tas looked around. “Uh . . .that is, I think we’re . . . then again, perhaps we’re not.” He fixed Flint with a cold stare. “How did you get us lost?”
“ME!” The dwarf exploded. “You’re the guide! You’re the map-reader. You’re the kender who knows this city like he knows his own house!”
“But I was thinking,” Tas said loftily.
“What with?” Flint roared.
“I was thinking deep thoughts,” Tas said in wounded tones.
“I-oh, never mind,” Flint grumbled and began to peer up and down the street. He didn’t quite like the looks of things.
“This certainly does seem strange,” Tas said cheerfully, echoing the dwarf’s thoughts. “It’s so empty—not at all like the other streets of Palanthas.” He stared longingly down the rows of silent empty buildings. “I wonder—”
“No,” said Flint. “Absolutely not. We’re going back the way we came—”
“Oh, come on!” Tas said, heading down the deserted street.
“Just a little ways, to see what’s down here. You know Laurana told us to look around, inspect the forti—forta—the whatch-ma-call-its.”
“Fortifications,” muttered Flint, stumping reluctantly along after the kender. “And there aren’t any around here, you doorknob. This is the center of the city! She meant the walls around the outside of the city.”
“There aren’t any walls around the outside of the city,” Tas said triumphantly. “Not around New City, anyway. And if it’s the center, why is it deserted? I think we should find out.”
Flint snorted. The kender was beginning to make sense—a fact which caused the dwarf to shake his head and wonder if maybe he shouldn’t lie down somewhere out of the sun.
The two walked for several minutes in silence, traveling deeper and deeper into the heart of the city. To one side, only a few blocks away, rose the palatial mansion of the Lord of Palanthas. They could see its towering spires from here. But ahead of them, nothing was visible. It was all lost in shadow....
Tas glanced into windows and stuck his nose into doorways of the buildings they passed. He and Flint proceeded clear to the end of the block before the kender spoke.
“You know, Flint,” Tas said uneasily, “these buildings are all empty.”
“Abandoned,” said Flint in hushed tones. The dwarf laid his hand on his battle-axe, he started nervously at the sound of Tas’s shrill voice.
“There’s a queer feeling about this place,” Tas said, edging closer to the dwarf. “I’m not afraid, mind you—”
“I am,” said Flint emphatically. “Let’s get out of here!”
Tas looked up at the tall buildings on either side of them. They were well kept. Apparently the Palanthians were so proud of their city that they even spent money keeping up vacant buildings. There were shops and dwellings of all kinds, obviously structurally sound. The streets were clean and free from litter and garbage. But it was all deserted. This had once been a prosperous area, the kender thought. Right in the heart of the city. Why wasn’t it now? Why had everyone left? It gave him an “eerie” feeling and there were not many things in Krynn that gave kender “eerie” feelings.
“There aren’t even any rats!” Flint muttered. Taking hold of Tas’s arm, he tugged at the kender. “We’ve seen enough.”
“Oh, come on,” Tas said. Pulling his arm away, he fought down the strange eerie sensation and—straightening his small shoulders—started off down the sidewalk once more. He hadn’t gone three feet when he realized he was alone. Stopping in exasperation, he looked back. The dwarf was standing on the sidewalk, glowering at him.
“I only want to go as far as that grove of trees at the end of the street,” Tas said, pointing. “Look—it’s just an ordinary grove of ordinary oak trees. Probably a park or something. Maybe we could have lunch—”
“I don’t like this place!” Flint said stubbornly. “It reminds me of ... of ... Darken Wood—that place where Raistlin spoke to the spooks.”
“Oh, you’re the only spook here!” Tas said irritably, determined to ignore the fact that it reminded him of the same thing. “It’s broad daylight. We’re in the center of a city, for the love of Reorx—”
“Then why is it freezing cold?”
“It’s winter!” the kender shouted, waving his arms. He hushed immediately, staring around in alarm at the weird way his words echoed through the silent streets. “Are you coming?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Flint drew a deep breath. Scowling, he gripped his battle-axe and marched down the street toward the kender, casting a wary eye at the buildings as though at any moment a spectre might leap out at him.
“Tisn’t winter,” the dwarf muttered out of the comer of his mouth. “Except around here.”
“It won’t be spring for weeks,” Tas returned, glad to have something to argue about and keep his mind off the strange things his stomach was doing—twisting into knots and the like.
But Flint refused to quarrel—a bad sign. Silently, the two crept down the empty street until they reached the end of the block. Here the buildings ended abruptly in a grove of trees. As Tas had said, it seemed just an ordinary grove of oak trees— although they were certainly the tallest oaks either the dwarf or the kender had seen in long years of exploring Krynn.
But as the two approached, they felt the strange chilling sensation become stronger until it was worse than any cold they had ever experienced, even the cold of the glacier in Ice Wall. It was worse because it came from within and it made no sense! Why should it be so cold in just this part of the city? The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But soon their fingers were numb and stiff. Flint could no longer hold his battle-axe and was forced to put it back in its holder with shaking hands. Tas’s teeth chattered, he had lost all feeling in his pointed ears, and he shivered violently.