The mage flashed the light around the floor. There were Tanis, Riverwind, Goldmoon, and Tika, all huddled near Caramon. They seemed all right, he thought, giving them a quick inspection. Around them lay scattered debris. Half of the beam slanted down through the rubble to rest on the stone floor. Raistlin smiled. A nice bit of work, that spell. Once more they were in his debt.
If we don’t perish from the cold, he reminded himself bitterly. His body was shaking so he could barely hold the staff. He began to cough. This would be the death of him. They had to get out.
‘Tanis,’ he called, reaching out to shake the half-elf.
Tanis lay crumpled at the very edge of Raistlin’s magic, protective circle. He murmured and stirred. Raistlin shook him again. The half-elf cried out, reflexively covering his head with his arm.
‘Tanis, you’re safe,’ Raistlin whispered, coughing. ‘Wake up.’
‘What?’ Tanis sat bolt upright, staring around him. ‘Where—’ Then he remembered. ‘Laurana?’
‘Gone.’ Raistlin shrugged. ‘You threw her out of danger—’
‘Yes...’ Tanis said, sinking back down. ‘And I heard you say words, magic—’
‘That’s why we’re not crushed.’ Raistlin clutched his sopping wet robes around him, shivering, and drew nearer Tanis, who was staring around as if he’d fallen onto a moon.
‘Where in the name of the Abyss—’
‘We’re in the cellar of the Inn,’ the mage said. ‘The floor gave way and dropped us down here,’
Tanis looked up. ‘By all the gods,’ he whispered in awe.
‘Yes,’ Raistlin said, his gaze following Tanis’s. ‘We’re buried alive.’
Beneath the ruins of the Red Dragon Inn, the companions took stock of their situation. It did not look hopeful. Goldmoon treated their injuries, which were not serious, thanks to Raistlin’s spell. But they had no idea how long they had been unconscious or what was happening above them. Worse still, they had no idea how they could escape.
Caramon tried cautiously to move some of the rocks above their heads, but the whole structure creaked and groaned. Raistlin reminded him sharply that he had no energy to cast more spells, and Tanis wearily told the big man to forget it. They sat in the water that was growing deeper all the time.
As Riverwind stated, it seemed to be a matter of what killed them first: lack of air, freezing to death, the Inn falling down on top of them, or drowning.
‘We could shout for help,’ suggested Tika, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘Add draconians to the list, then,’ Raistlin snapped. ‘They’re the only creatures up there liable to hear you.’
Tika’s face flushed, and she brushed her hand quickly across her eyes. Caramon cast a reproachful glance at his brother, then put his arm around Tika and held her close. Raistlin gave them both a look of disgust.
‘I haven’t heard a sound up there,’ Tanis said, puzzled. ‘You’d think the dragons and the armies—’ He stopped, his glance meeting Caramon’s, both soldiers nodding slowly in sudden grim understanding.
‘What?’ asked Goldmoon, looking at them.
‘We’re behind enemy lines,’ Caramon said. ‘The armies of draconians occupy the town. And probably the land for miles and miles around. There’s no way out, and nowhere to go if there were a way out.’
As if to emphasize his words, the companions heard sounds above them. Guttural draconian voices that they had come to know all too well drifted down through to them.
‘I tell you, this is a waste of time,’ whined another voice, goblin by the sound, speaking in Common. ‘There’s no one alive in this mess.’
‘Tell that to the Dragon Highlord, you miserable dog-eaters,’ snarled the draconian. ‘I’m sure his lordship’ll be interested in your opinion. Or rather, his dragon’ll be interested. You have your orders. Now dig, all of you.’
There were sounds of scraping, sounds of stones being dragged aside. Rivulets of dirt and dust started to sift down through the cracks. The big beam shivered slightly but held.
The companions stared at each other, almost holding their breaths, each remembering the strange draconians who had attacked the Inn. ‘Somebody’s after us,’ Raistlin had said.
‘What are we looking for in this rubble?’ croaked a goblin in the goblin tongue. ‘Silver? Jewels?’
Tanis and Caramon, who spoke a little goblin, strained to hear.
‘Naw,’ said the first goblin, who had grumbled about orders. ‘Spies or some such wanted personally by the Dragon Highlord for questioning.’
‘In here?’ the goblin asked in amazement.
‘That’s what I said,’ snarled his companion. ‘You saw how far I got. The lizardmen say they had them trapped in the Inn when the dragon hit it. Said none of them escaped, and so the Highlord figures they must still be here. If you ask me—the dracos screwed up and now we’ve got to pay for their mistakes.’
The sounds of digging and of rock moving grew louder, as did the sound of goblin voices, occasionally punctuated by a sharp order in the guttural voice of the draconians. There must be fifty of them up there! Tanis thought, stunned.
Riverwind quietly lifted his sword out of the water and began wiping it dry. Caramon, his usually cheerful face somber, released Tika and found his sword. Tanis didn’t have a sword, Riverwind tossed him his dagger. Tika started to draw her sword, but Tanis shook his head. They would be fighting in close quarters, and Tika needed lots of room. The half-elf looked questioningly at Raistlin.
The mage shook his head. ‘I will try, Tanis,’ he whispered. ‘But I am very tired. Very tired. And I can’t think, I can’t concentrate.’ He bowed his head, shivering violently in his wet robes. He was exerting all his effort not to cough and give them away, muffling his choking in his sleeve.
One spell will finish him, if he gets that off, Tanis realized. Still, he may be luckier than the rest of us. At least he won’t be taken alive.
The sounds above them grew louder and louder. Goblins are strong, tireless workers. They wanted to finish this job quickly, then get back to looting Tarsis. The companions waited in grim silence below. An almost steady stream of dirt and crushed rock dropped down upon them, along with fresh rainwater. They gripped their weapons. It was only a matter of minutes, maybe, before they were discovered.
Then, suddenly, there were new sounds. They heard the goblins yell in fear, the draconians shout to them, ordering them back to work. But they could hear the sounds of shovels and picks being dropped down onto the rocks above them, then the cursing of the draconians as they tried to stop what was apparently a full-scale goblin revolt.
And above the noise of the shrieking goblins rose a loud, clear, high-pitched call, which was answered by another call farther away. It was like the call of an eagle, soaring above the plains at sunset. But this call was right above them.
There was a scream—a draconian. Then a rending sound—as if the body of the creature were being ripped apart. More screams, the clash of steel being drawn, another call and another answer—this one much nearer.
‘What is that?’ Caramon asked, his eyes wide. ‘It isn’t a dragon. It sounds like—like some gigantic bird of prey!’
‘Whatever it is, it’s tearing the draconians to shreds!’ Goldmoon said in awe as they listened. The screaming sounds stopped abruptly, leaving a silence behind that was almost worse. What new evil replaced the old?
Then came the sound of rocks and stones, mortar and timber being lifted and sent crashing to the streets. Whatever was up there was intent on reaching them!
‘It’s eaten all the draconians,’ whispered Caramon gruffly, ‘and now it’s after us!’
Tika turned deathly white, clutching at Caramon’s arm. Goldmoon gasped softly and even Riverwind appeared to lose some of his stoic composure, staring intently upward.
‘Caramon,’ Raistlin said, shivering, ‘shut up!’