Kitiara put her left hand on a certain stone in the wall, her right hand on another stone, and pressed a third stone on the floor with her foot. By force of habit, Raistlin made a mental note of the precise location of each stone with regard to its neighbors. He certainly hoped he would never have to return to Dargaard Keep, but one never knew. Grinding on its hinges, the wall that was actually a door swung slowly open. Kit sprang through the opening into the darkness beyond. Raistlin glanced around, then followed cautiously after her.
Kitiara placed her hand on a stone on the other side, and the door swung shut, muffling the banshees’ wail. He and Kitiara both shared a sigh of relief.
She took the torch from him and went ahead of him, lighting the way. Stairs carved out of rock, enclosed by rough-hewn rock walls, spiraled downward. Kitiara descended rapidly, her boots ringing on the stone, drowning out all sound of the banshees. Raistlin followed. He noted that the stairway was not charred and that there was no smell of smoke or death.
“This stonework is new,” he said, running his hand over the rock and collecting dust on his fingers. “Recently built.”
“By the hand of our Queen,” said Kitiara.
Raistlin stopped walking. “Where are you taking me? What is down here?”
Kitiara smiled slyly. “Perhaps you’d rather go back upstairs to listen to the choir?”
Raistlin resumed his descent. The staircase—he counted forty-five stairs—led to a door made of solid steel. Raistlin stared at it, impressed. The door alone was worth all the wealth in Neraka. He could not imagine what treasure lay behind it.
Kitiara placed her right hand, palm flat, on the center of the door, which was smooth, without a mark that Raistlin could see. Kit spoke a single word, “Takhisis,” and light flared white beneath her palm. She invoked the name of the Dark Queen again, and a green light glowed. Kitiara said the name three more times, and three times the light changed colors, going from red to blue to black.
The outline of a five-headed dragon blazed, etched into the door, and the door rose, silently and smoothly, until it disappeared into the ceiling.
Kitiara motioned Raistlin to go inside. He remained outside the door, regarding her coldly.
“You first,” he said.
Kitiara laughed and shook her head and walked ahead of him. She held the torch high, so he could inspect the vault. The light shone on walls carved out of solid rock. The vault was not large, perhaps twenty paces by twenty paces. The ceiling was low. Raistlin could have reached up his hand to touch it.
The vault contained only three objects—an hourglass, made of crystal encased in gold; the golden pedestal on which the hourglass stood; and a candle marked with red, numbered stripes placed at regular intervals, starting with one and ending at twenty-four. The candle kept count of the hours of the day. It had burned nearly to the bottom.
Raistlin still did not trust Kitiara, but curiosity overcame caution. He entered the room and walked over to inspect the hourglass. He had no need to cast a spell to tell that it was enchanted.
The top of the hourglass was filled with sand; the bottom held darkness, utter and eternal. Raistlin looked closely and saw that a single grain of sand was lodged in the narrow opening between the two halves. The grain had not fallen. It was blocking the rest of the sand, preventing it from dropping.
“It’s clogged,” said Raistlin.
“Wait!” Kitiara breathed.
“For what?”
“For Dark Watch,” said Kitiara.
Raistlin watched the flame of the candle consume the wax, eating away at the white until it reached the red stripe that marked the end of a day. When the red began to melt, he looked at the hourglass and drew in a soft breath.
The single grain of sand that was lodged in the narrow opening between the two halves began to sparkle. The grain shone, bright as a star, and like a star, it streaked through the darkness, falling to the bottom. The grain flickered a moment in the darkness; then the light faded and went out. Another small grain dropped into the narrow opening and hung there.
Kitiara replaced the candle that marked the hours with a new candle, lighting the new one from the guttering flame of the old. The flame burned clear and unwavering in the still air of the vault.
“What is this?” Raistlin asked, his voice soft with awe.
“The Hourglass of Stars,” said Kitiara. “It began keeping time on the first day of creation, and when the sand runs out, time will end.”
Raistlin longed to touch the glistening sides of the crystal, but he kept his hands clasped together in the sleeves of his robes. One needed to be wary of artifacts.
“And what is it doing here? How did Takhisis come by it?”
“She forged it,” said Kitiara.
“What does this have to do with Ariakas?” Raistlin asked. “Nothing,” said Kitiara. He looked at her, startled.
“Oh, I know that’s what I told Iolanthe. I had to tell her something for her to bring you here, otherwise she would have been suspicious. How do you think that wizardess Ladonna escaped? Iolanthe helped her. The witch is not to be trusted, Baby brother.”
Raistlin was not surprised. That fit with his suspicions.
“I do not trust her,” said Raistlin. “I trust no one.”
“Not even me?” Kitiara asked playfully.
She reached out her hand as if to smooth back his hair as she had done when he was a child burning up with fever.
Raistlin drew back, avoiding her touch. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”
Kitiara lowered her hand and rested it on the golden top of the hourglass. “The Sly One. That’s what they called you. Perhaps that’s why you were always my favorite. It seems that Nuitari has betrayed his mother for the last time. Takhisis has decided to get rid of the god of magic and his two treacherous cousins. She is bringing in three new gods, Gods of the Gray. They will answer directly to their Queen, and she will give them the magic.”
Raistlin staggered as though he’d been punched in the face. If he had not been holding on to his staff, he would have fallen. All thoughts of rescuing Laurana flew from his mind. He had himself to consider. He was in deadly peril. Kit was talking about destroying the gods of magic, destroying the magic that was his lifeblood.
He could feel the Dark Queen very near him. He could feel her breath upon the back of his neck. He heard her voice as he had heard it in her shrine in the Red Mansion.
Serve me! Bow down before me!
This was her punishment for his disobedience. He had to be careful here, very careful.
“An interesting notion,” said Raistlin cooly. “Removing three gods cannot be easy, even for Takhisis. How does she plan to accomplish this?”
“With your assistance, Baby brother.” Kitiara gazed into the flame of the candle. “Tomorrow night, the Night of the Eye, the most powerful wizards in Ansalon will gather in one place—the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. You are going to destroy that Tower and those within.”
“And if I refuse?” Raistlin asked.
“Why should you? You owe these wizards nothing. They made you suffer,” said Kitiara. “Takhisis will make you far more powerful than Par-Salian ever was, more powerful than all wizards in the world combined. You have only to ask her.”
Raistlin watched the flame of the candle eat into the wax.
“What do you want of me?” he asked.
“Serve Takhisis and she will give you everything your heart desires,” said Kitiara. She ran her hand over the top of the hourglass. “Betray her and she will devour you.”
“That is not much of a choice,” said Raistlin.
“You are lucky she is giving you a choice at all. I do not know what you did, but our Queen is not pleased with you. She gives you this chance to prove yourself. What is your answer?”