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Raistlin made his way through the piles of junk to the door, which was standing wide open. Slowly and silently, he shut the door, leaving it open only a crack, and peered out.

The pounding on the door and the shouting continued, as did the arguing among the Black Robes. Eventually Hook Nose decided they should open the door; his reason being that if they did not, the guards would break it down, and the Black Robes would have to pay the landlord for the damage.

Raistlin kept his eye to the door. A contingent of draconians entered and climbed the stairs, their claws leaving scratch marks on the wood.

“I am Commander Slith,” barked one. “I have orders to search the premises.”

“Search? For what? This is an outrage,” said Hook Nose, his voice trembling.

“It has come to the attention of Queen Takhisis that a powerful and potentially dangerous magical artifact has entered the city of Neraka,” Commander Slith said in sonorous tones. “As you know, by law, all magical artifacts must be brought to the temple for evaluation and registration. Those artifacts which are deemed a threat to the good people of Neraka will be confiscated in the interests of public safety.”

Raistlin thought immediately of the Staff of Magius, and he was thankful it was safely hidden in his room in the Broken Shield, tucked under the mattress. Security appeared to be somewhat lax around the Broken Shield, and he had been worried about thieves. He was puzzled however. The Staff of Magius was powerful, and it could be dangerous, but Raistlin did not think it was powerful enough to attract the attention of the Dark Queen.

“We know the law,” Hook Nose was saying in angry tones. “And we have always obeyed it. We have no artifacts of any sort here.”

“What about Mistress Iolanthe?” asked Paunchy eagerly. “She has dangerous artifacts. She doesn’t keep them here, though.”

“You should search her,” prompted Scrawny.

“We have spoken to Mistress Iolanthe,” said Commander Slith. “We met with her in the private chambers of Emperor Ariakas. Mistress Iolanthe assures us that she has no knowledge of this artifact. She gave us permission to search her apartment. We didn’t find it.”

“Why do you think we would have it?” Hook Nose demanded.

“We believe that some of you are members of Hidden Light,” said Commander Slith.

Raistlin saw the sivak wink at one of the other soldiers.

“Hidden Light! No, no, no!” Hook Nose was babbling in terror. “We are all of us loyal subjects of our glorious Queen, I assure you!”

“Good. Then you won’t mind if we search the building,” said the commander coolly.

“Please do. We have nothing to hide. What is this artifact?” Hook Nose asked with pathetic eagerness. “We will be glad to hand it over to you if we find it.”

“A dragon orb,” said Commander Slith, and he ordered his detail to separate, sending some to the lower levels, some to the upper, and some to search the ground floor.

“Dragon orb?” Hook Nose glanced at his fellows.

“Never heard of it,” said Paunchy, and Scrawny shook his head.

Commander Slith rattled off the description. “A crystal ball the size of a man’s head. It can either be nondescript in appearance or it may swirl with color.” He yelled at his men, “If you find anything that fits this description, don’t touch it. Summon me at once.”

Raistlin left the door, stumbling over books as he made his way back to his stool, hardly seeing where he was going. He pulled his cowl low, picked up a sheaf of parchment pages, and pretended to be absorbed in studying the contents. The words swam before his eyes. His hand crept to the leather pouch he wore on his belt, the pouch that was filled with marbles. None were as large as a man’s head, but one of them indeed swirled with color.

He could hear wood splintering—the draconians on the lower level were kicking in the doors. His first panicked impulse was to shove the pouch underneath a stack of books or hide it behind a row of shelving. He swiftly regained command of himself and thought through the problem. Hiding the pouch would be the worst thing he could do. If the draconians discovered it, they would guess at once that it contained something valuable. Draconians were smart and they were users of magic. They would soon figure out that a large crystal globe known to possess magical properties might be able to reduce itself to a small size.

Far better to keep the pouch on his person, hidden in plain sight. He could hear the draconians chanting spells. He could not distinguish the words, but he knew the type of spell he would cast if he were searching for a hidden magical artifact. He would use a spell that would detect magic, cause the artifact to reveal itself, perhaps glow with light or make a humming sound.

Raistlin reached into the pouch. His sensitive fingers could distinguish the dragon orb from the other marbles by feel alone. The marbles were cool to the touch. The orb was slightly warm and its surface was far smoother, its shape more perfectly round.

Other draconians were searching the kitchen, flinging pots and pans to the floor, banging the door of the pantry, breaking crockery. They would reach the library next.

Raistlin took hold of the orb and clasped it in his hand, closing his fist over it. What if the orb gave itself away? What if the orb wanted to be found by Queen Takhisis? What if the orb had told Takhisis where to find it?

The orb grew warm in his hand. Viper’s voice whispered to him. Takhisis fears the orbs. She seeks to destroy the orbs. She knows the danger we pose. Keep me safe and I will keep you safe.

The door to the library flew open, and two bozak draconians entered. They stopped dead in the doorway to stare.

Raistlin thrust the orb back into the pouch and rose respectfully, smoothing his robes with his hands and keeping his head bowed as though too frightened to lift his eyes.

“Commander, you better come see this,” called the bozak.

Commander Slith strode into the room. He glanced around at the stacks and bundles and piles and snorted with disgust.

“Looks like gully dwarves have been living here,” he said. The sivak eyed Raistlin. “Who in the Abyss are you?”

Hook Nose came bustling importantly through the door. “He’s nobody, Commander. A novice. He does odd jobs for us. Look at the mess you’ve created, Majere! Get this cleaned up at once!”

“Yes, Master,” said Raistlin. “I am sorry, Master.”

“Are we going to search through all this junk, sir?” the bozak asked as Hook Nose hurried off to complain loudly about the fact that the draconians had scattered flour all over the kitchen floor. “It will take weeks!”

“Cast your spell and be done with it,” replied Commander Slith. “Mistress Iolanthe warned us that coming here would be a waste of time, and she was right.”

“Do you trust the witch, sir?” the bozak asked doubtfully. “What makes you think she hasn’t got the orb herself?”

Commander Slith chuckled. “The witch has a strong sense of self-preservation. She knows that her life wouldn’t be worth spit if Takhisis caught her with a dragon orb.”

“What is a dragon orb, anyway?” The bozak kicked at a stack of books and sent them tumbling. “What does it do?”

“Beats me. All I know is that the orb was responsible for the Blue Lady losing the Battle of the High Clerist’s Tower, or so I heard.” Commander Slith rubbed his clawed hands. “I’d love to get my hands on it. Several people I know will pay a good price for it.”

“Pay for it?” The bozak was shocked. “If we find it, we’re under orders to give it to the Nightlord immediately.”

Commander Slith shook his head sadly and draped his arm around the bozak’s shoulders. “Glug, my boy, I keep trying to educate you. You never ‘give’ anything to anyone.”

“But our orders—”

“Orders, shmorders!” Slith sniffed in disdain. “Who gives us orders? Humans. And who’s losing this war? Humans. We dracos have got to start looking out for ourselves.”