“I don’t think he can hear you,” said Kharas.
Kender are not subject to fear, so it couldn’t have been fear that made Tasslehoff leap several feet into the air. It must have been because he felt like leaping. He gave a few more light-hearted leaps after that, just to prove it.
Tas turned to confront the white-haired, white-bearded, stooped-shouldered dwarf. The kender raised a scolding finger. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I say this, but I don’t believe you are Kharas. He’s dead inside that vestibule. I saw his corpse. He was stung to death by a scorpion, and it’s been my experience that a person can’t be alive here and dead there at the same time.”
“Perhaps I’m the ghost of Kharas,” suggested the dwarf.
“I thought you might be, at first,” Tas poked his finger into the dwarf’s arm, “but ghosts are insubstantial, and you’re substantial.”
He was quite proud of those long words. They ranked right up there with Ramification and Speculation.
That gave him an idea. His glasses! The ruby glasses had let him read writing he couldn’t read and see through a wall that wasn’t there. Perhaps they would reveal the truth about this mysterious dwarf.
“Hey! Look behind you! What’s that?” Tas cried, and pointed past the dwarf’s left shoulder. The dwarf turned to look.
Tas whipped out his spectacles and put them on his nose and stared through the ruby glass. He was so amazed by what he saw that he forgot to take them off again. He stood staring, his body going limp, his mind stumbling about in a foggy daze.
“You’re…” he began weakly. “You’re a…” He swallowed hard, and the word came out.
“Dragon.”
The dragon was an enormous dragon, the biggest Tasslehoff had ever seen, bigger even than the horrible red dragon of Pax Tharkas. This dragon was also the most beautiful. His scales glittered gold in the sunlight. He held his head proudly, his body was powerful, yet his movements were made with studied grace. He didn’t appear to be a ferocious dragon, the kind who considered kender a toothsome midday snack. Although Tas had a feeling this dragon could look very fierce when he wanted to. Right now the dragon only looked troubled and disturbed.
“Ah,” said the dragon, his gaze fixed on the ruby spectacles perched on the kender’s nose, “I wondered where I’d put those.”
“I found them,” said Tas immediately. “I think you must have dropped them. Are you going to kill me?”
Tas wasn’t really afraid. He just needed to be informed. While he didn’t want to be killed by a dragon, if he was going to, he didn’t want to miss it.
“I should kill you, you know,” the golden dragon said sternly. “You’ve seen what you’re not meant to see. There’ll be hell to pay over this, I suppose.”
The dragon’s expression hardened. “Still, I don’t much care. Queen Takhisis and her foul minions have returned to the world, haven’t they?”
“Does this mean that you’re not a foul minion?” Tas asked.
“You could say that,” said the dragon, with the hint of smile in his wise, shining eyes.
“Then I will say that.” Tas was relieved. “Yes, the Dark Queen is back, and she’s causing a great deal of trouble. She’s driven the poor elves out of their beautiful homeland and killed a lot of them, and she and her dragons killed Goldmoon’s family and all her people, even the little children. That was really sad.” The kender’s eyes filled with tears. “And there are these creatures called draconians who look like dragons except they don’t, because they walk on two legs like people, but they have wings, tails, and scales like dragons and they’re really nasty. There are red dragons who set people on fire, and black dragons who boil the flesh off your bones, and I don’t know how many other kinds.”
“But no dragons like myself,” said the dragon. “No gold dragons or silver…” Tasslehoff had a squirmy feeling then. He had seen gold and silver dragons somewhere. He couldn’t quite place it. It had something to do with a tapestry and Fizban… The memory almost came back, but then it was gone. Disappeared in a puff ball.
“Sorry, but I’ve never seen anyone like you before.” Tas brightened. “I saw a woolly mammoth once, though. Would you like to hear about it?”
“Perhaps some other time,” said the dragon politely. He looked even more troubled and very grim.
“I’m Tasslehoff Burrfoot, by the way,” said Tas.
“I am called Evenstar,” said the dragon.
“What are you doing here?” Tas asked curiously.
“I am the guardian of the Hammer of Kharas. I have kept it safe until the gods returned and a dwarven hero of honor and righteousness came to claim it. Now my duty is done, my punishment is ended. They cannot keep me here.”
“You talk like this was a prison,” said Tas.
“It was,” Evenstar replied gravely.
“But,” Tasslehoff spread his arms, looked up at the wide blue sky—“you could fly anywhere!”
“I was bound to my promise, a promise I’ve kept for three hundred years. Now I am free to go.”
“You could fight alongside us,” Tas suggested eagerly. “Why, I’ll bet you could tie one of those red dragons in knots and make him swallow his tail!”
Evenstar smiled.
“I wish I could help you, little friend. I would like nothing better. I cannot, however. We dragons took a vow, and although I opposed it and advised against it, I will not break the vow. Though I cannot fight at your side, I will do what I can to aid you. These draconian creatures you describe trouble me greatly.”
“What are you going to do? Make them swallow their tails?”
“That would spoil my surprise. Farewell, Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” said Evenstar. “I would ask you to keep my secret, for the world must not yet know that my kind exists, but I understand that secrets can be a great burden on one with such a light and merry heart. Therefore it is a burden I will not inflict.”
Tas didn’t understand. He barely heard. He was wrestling with a choke in his throat that wouldn’t go away. The dragon was so wonderful and beautiful, and he looked so unhappy, that Tasslehoff took off the ruby spectacles and held them out in his small hand.
“I guess these belong to you.”
The dragon reached down an enormous claw, a claw that could have engulfed the kender, and gently snagged the spectacles with a tip.
“Oh, before I forget,” Tas said, sadly watching the spectacles disappear in the dragon’s grasp, “how do we get off this tomb? Not that I’m not enjoying my stay here,” he added quickly, thinking the dragon might be offended, “but I left Tanis and Caramon and the others on their own, and they tend to get into trouble when I’m not there to watch over them.”
“Ah, yes,” said Evenstar gravely. “I understand.”
The dragon drew a large rune on the flagstones. He breathed on the rune and it began to glow with a shimmering golden light.
“When you are ready to depart, step onto this rune, and it will take you to the Temple of the Stars where the dwarven Thanes are gathered to await the Hammer’s return.”
“Thank you, Evenstar,” said Tas. “Will I see you again?”
“Who knows? The gods hold the fates of all in their hands.”
Evenstar’s body began to shimmer with the same golden light. The light grew dim, then faint, then vanished altogether in a radiant haze. Tas had to blink several times and snort a great deal to clear some snuffles from his eyes and nose. He was still not seeing all that well, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
A white-bearded, stoop-shouldered dwarf stood in front of him. The dwarf held a pair of rubycolored spectacles in his hand.
“Here,” said the dwarf, “you dropped these. And mind that you don’t lose them! Spectacles like this don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Tas started to say he would treasure them forever, but he didn’t, because the dwarf wasn’t there to say it to. The dwarf wasn’t anywhere.
“Oh, well,” Tas said, cheering up, “I have the spectacles back! I’ll be very careful of them. Very careful.”